Is the Jasmine Revolution stepping back

It seems just yesterday when Tunisians took the streets in protests for the transition government mainly formed by members of the old and obsolete establishment. The occupation of the Kashba  on January 18th signed a great victory. People – mainly from poor areas of the country – where there to remark that January the 14th, the day Ben Ali fled from Tunisia,  was the beginning of a revolution that couldn’t be fixed with a very shallow interchange of politicians within the group of the RCD members. The memories of those days are still alive in Brahim’s head, who assists astonished at the attack perpetuated by Salafis, supported by members of the Islamist party al Nahda, to universities, and to a famous tv network named Nisma, which has recently broadcasted Persepolis in Tunisian dialect.
The film Persepolis – screened almost one week ago – opened the Pandora’s box. The network – openly declared against the right conservative party – translated the dialogues of Marjane Satrapi’s cartoon in Tunisian dialect. Tunisia woke up the day after showing some new aspect of its character: those extreme fringes of islamists who were somewhere, there hidden in the small and narrow streets of Tunisian Khasba, attacked universities –  especially those where niqab is forbidden – and  Nesma itself. Barbush – the name extremist are generally named – were encouraging people to take the streets, protesting for the offence received by Nesma broadcasting the cartoon on the iranian revolution during such a delicate moment. Al Nahda condemned the violation of universities freedom, but not the demonstrations outside the offices of Nesma. The director of the tv network publicly apologised, thought a few hours later Nesma screened a short film on what could be the “after election” with al Nahda at the government. Many appreciated it, especially those people who thought the Tunisian tv network was tepid back because of the islamist party violent attack.

The last episode of this endless diatribe between right-islamist groups and Nesma was today, Friday, just after the mid-day pray. A huge crowd – mainly composed by worshippers of the big Mosque on Av de la Liberte’ – started to march towards the Kashba, where there is also the Palace of the government. The mob swept down to Place de la Republique, taking Av Londres on the right, while chanting “Allah o Akhbar”. Raid, a 22year old participant, said smiling that the problem was “first, the film Persepolis translated in Tunisian Arabic, and second, the representation of God. They have both offended our religion, our believes. We want justice. We want the intervention of the government to sort out this situation. Nesma should be closed, and the people who translated the dialogues from  French to our language, punished.” Other voices were more comprehensive -though less smily – towards producers of the film and director of the channel, but more demanding in therms of reforms. Fatma said “I hope this will help to move forward, turn page and write a new chapter of our story, where people like me – she wears niqab – are free to go to university without feeling any political pressures as it was during Ben Ali’s dictatorship. I want to be respected. I felt offended by Persepolis, as it clashed with my muslim values. I want, or I would like to have spaces just for women…it will take time, but I was there on January the14th, and I am sure I did the revolution because I believed something had to be changed.” Although many of the participants were not members of al Nahda, they were quite keen on giving their votes to it. The parties – some 114 lists registered, decreasing to 80, as   coalitions were formed – cover the full range, but the centre right party al Nahda is the one which makes everyone – standing on the right – happy fostering and flagging traditional and islamic values. The demonstration ended hours later with clashes and confrontations  between islamists and police in various parts of the Kashba. Tear gases saturated the air, while protesters were throwing stones from the Mosque where they took shelter.
Al Nahda is keeping a good pace gaining the sympathy of many people, even those more extremist who were finding the centre right party too mild. However, the wish is that the political debate will focus discussions on concrete problems which affect the country, rather than on the violence and the justification of it by al Nahda.

Children of the Revolution

Children of the Revolution, a set on Flickr.

At your own risk

The Italian government was waiting for a clash between Lampedusans and migrants, and it had it on September 20th. When the strong smell of burnt plastic and silicon invaded the the village it was too late. Fire had been set up to the main structure in Imbriacola Valley, and like a wave the migrants hosted in the centre for first aid and assistance – CPSA in Italian – flew out. Jubilant young men chanting “freedom, freedom” were running in the streets and squares of Lampedusa, celebrating the end of their captivity. The outcome did not surprise very much activists and members of international organisations working in Lampedusa, as the reception centre was managed like a prison rather than a reception centre. For months, the request of freedom, and respect of human rights, invoked by different parties, were ignored by politicians. The end was quite foreseeable: fire, structures damaged, human lives put at risk and chaos every where. What it was not exactly expected was the violence, urban riots, and migrant hunting images forever stuck in my head. An hour later, the police was kettling a group of migrants next to the pump station near the old harbour. Here we are, like in fairy tales, the crucial point is reached, and the Propp’s card “haunted castle” is on the table. I am rattling the main steps and impressions for my special odious, because I was there and despite what the media have said, I will know more than all of them. I was there in the middle of the square. I have have always been there, and along with those few who were near me, it was clear this was not a safe place. Night falls and the police unsuccessfully tried to convince the group of Tunisians to move to the football camp, where they cold have eaten and be placed on the transfer list, but they are determined to stay there. They have stopped believing the promises of transfer as they have heard them repeated day after day, sometimes for months. The police – concerned in achieving its purpose and alarmed by a hypothetical attack of locals – and does not even realise how many debris, sticks and metal bits are scattered everywhere, like a natural component of the surrounding environment. The guys listen, Laila , a law student, shook her head, as if she had already realised that the suspicion of police it is something serious. As in a theatrical performance, set is already mounted, everything it is ready, just waiting for the actors – gladiators – and the public. The night passed for the Tunisians without food, water or blankets, and at dawn the work begin. The young migrants recover paint brush and linen. In a few hours make three different banners in which they apologise to Lampedusa, demand freedom and invoke the help of the European Union. This is not enough, at least to appease the anger of the mayor of Lampedusa who – heedless of the position he held – makes declarations of war to scare away migrants. The sun rises in the sky and the mercury of the thermometer follows it. The crowd increases as the tension between Lampedusans – kept away from policemen in riot uniform – and Tunisians, who are located between the gas pump, the square and the front porch of the restaurant. It is a matter of seconds. Suddenly a gas cylinder appears in the hands of a migrant, then another … Noureddin. looks at me with his 23-year old eyes “they – the Tunisians – gave locals and police the motivation to attack them. Italians will think that we are violent …” The stone-throwing starts from the offices of the ferry company Siremar, next to the diving centre, and it chaos very where. The police launch into the group of migrants. Those Tunisians standing up, manage to escape, and in turn respond to the stone-throwing. Those who are doing worse are the immigrants sitting on the sidewalk of the gas pump or in the porch of the restaurant. All rail against them, the Tunisians can not help themselves, but get their hands praying to stop the thugs. Who was in the “rear guard” – under the shelter of the gas station – jumps the fence and escapes towards the old mooring. The stones continue to fly from both parties, while more people joined the group of locals carrying axis. Because everyone – including employees of Lampedusa Accoglienza, the society managing the reception centre – should at least get out of there having struck a blow. Douha runs her hands folded on her nose and held her mouth, as if trying to block her breath and return to the natural rhythm. Noureddin is watching me “and you, what did you do there?” … “I was filming, filming in the rain of stones crossing the sky on the square.” He lights a cigarette, “can I watch the footage?” “Sure, mate.”

Askavusa, the breach in the wall of the Fortress Europe

When the Tunisian government collapsed six months ago under social and political pressures, everyone knew in Lampedusa, that they would not have to wait long before being impacted by the consequences of the events, as if being hit by a tsunami. The North African country was in turmoil, and not long after Ben Ali’s government resigned, boats sailing under Tunisian flags started to appear in the harbour of the Mediterranean island of Lampedusa.

“The first ship, carrying 250 migrants, reached the coast in the night of February 8^th” recalls Annalisa D’ancona, the co-founder of Askavusa, (“barefoot” in Sicilian), a local cultural association. During the period known as “the emergency” – from mid-February to the beginning of April – the independent organisation mobilised its members, and set up various services for the migrants. The activist recalls the first days in March when 4000 young Tunisians roamed around, and her friends were sitting in the meeting room of the association. “We knew that it was impossible to satisfy everyone’s needs, but we considered what we could do, bearing in mind our capacities.” Askavusa provided hot food, dry clothes, organised Italian language classes and a legal advice bureau. “When the number of migrants grew to the point where the government reception centre was full, we decided to keep Askavusa’s doors open during the night too.” Annalisa continues, “although the great absentee was the state, as it intervened quite late, we created a solidarity network thanks to an umbrella association called the Anti-Racist Forum, which supported our work with migrants.”

Askavusa is changing its activities in response to events. “Since Tunisian refugees have been kept in captivity inside the government reception centre, we have dealt increasingly with their relatives. They come to Lampedusa hoping to rescue their beloved, and end up coming to us for information about legislation or just some support.”

In Askavusa you can also meet some of those Tunisians who came by boat and have now obtained a six-month residency permit. Ahmed is one of them. He submitted his application for asylum in February. “After being transferred to Mineo in Sicily, I decided to move back to Lampedusa because it is a friendly place. A local invited me to stay at his place while I formalised my status. Soon I will get my five years residency papers, and I will move somewhere else, though Askavusa is always my home.”

Annalisa’s sense of concern and respect for human beings is the strength which motivated her and Askavusa’s members to make a practical response in the face of uncaring officialdom. Amongst the groups working with migrants in Lampedusa, Askavusa stands out as a beacon of resistance in defence of violated human rights. The activist now hopes to obtain permission to enter the government reception centre and monitor life behind the fences, as a representative of a small, but independent association.

Article published in The New Internationalist September 2011

 

Riding on the border

800 people landing in Lampedusa on June 28th

Lampedusa and its 22km2 is a fast ride on two wheels. What you see, darting across the island, is a peaceful and calm island entering on tiptoe in its summer season, made up of tourists, beaches and coves. Right as the tradition would like to foresee. A postcard of normality, including vessel on the background, such as bateaux mouch, teeming with passengers. Unfortunately the company isn’t the Siremar, and the face -you see protruding from the upper deck- is not that of a Caucasian tourist, but a African smiling.

The phone rings in the bag “O scia -my breath- someone told me that a boat is coming to the harbour…800 sub-saharan, all from Libya.” “Ok, let’s go. Skip here, we go down together.” In a rush, you abandon Askavusa, the independent association that monitors the migrants management done by the Italian government in Lampedusa, without moving anything, or turning the lap top off. The only thing you leave is a quick message to friends on the skype chat of the Lampedusa in Festival, who are in front of their pc on the continent working “landing. I’ll catch you later.” You know already that communication will stop for at least two or three hours, because it takes a lot of time for such a landing. Pedalling toward the mooring, it inevitable to think of what expects you: denied entry to the port, the smiles of complicity with the operators of the NGOs you made friend with.
From the coast you can see the boat swaying slowly, surrounded by boats of the Guardia di Finanza, and the Guardia Costiera. You can see them moving slowly through the zoom lens of the camera. The audio is clear and crisp. The sounds carried by the wind bring tears of children, women’s voices and the creaking of wood. The boat is approaching the mooring, and you try to get closer, helped by the fact that the police is engaged in the process of docking, meaning they no longer follow your movements.

One shot, then another, then one more. You look up, and the faces you just saw through the lens a few minutes before, are now in front of you. The Plimsoll line -marking which determines the limit of submersion of a vessel- is not visible on the keel. The lower deck disappears at the level of the pier, and the only visible thing is the scalp of the people occupying it. Passengers stand up all together, trying to get off in unison, while police men run up and down the pier shouting “sit down, sit down”, as the boat is in a dangerous balance.
Women, children, entire families gradually fill the area in front of the ferry terminal. Tired and inquisitive faces, that look happy to be at destination. Nigerian, Eritrean, Liberian, Pakistanis, and Bangladeshi sit all together in the 5m2 of the concrete square. They drink and take a breath, before being transferred to the centre. The night falls and it almost hurts your eyes, kept constantly under stress on the faces captured by the digital apparatus hold in my hands.
Never mind, the police spots us, we are now to visible. The policeman take us away while still taking notes, and trying to establish eye contact with the undefined multitude simply labelled sub-saharan. There would be millions of things to say, as the stories of families that descend from Europe to review and retrieve their children, brothers and husbands, but there is not enough time to tell you everything. The story of today is just the report of a landing on Lampedusa, a routine that we are witnessing, but we have decided to tell you to make you part of our lives.

Lampedusa In Festival | 19-23 luglio 2011, Lampedusa | Lampedusa In Festival

Lampedusa In Festival | 19-23 luglio 2011, Lampedusa | Lampedusa In Festival.

This is what democracy looks like…

I’m really sorry to be unable to update all the events and stories I’m following…However this is just to catch up a bit with some of the “best”, I experienced in Lampedusa.

Sub-saharians' memories

A few days ago something unexpected and disturbing happened, something that none of us would have ever thought of living, something abnormal that reminds us of a police state told in history books. In the last few days, on the tiny island of Lampedusa, the police has stopped and searched activists and people who are interested in promoting human rights and defending migrants. Under the pretext of “normal police controls,” the policemen bursted into the daily life of people whose only guilt is to be active members of the society or want to create a bridge between cultures through their voluntary activity.
Friday, April 15 at around 1:30 pm we assisted to what has turned to be the first episode of our persecution. In the early afternoon of the 15^th, some police cars and policemen have strangely stopped in front of the small cultural association Askavusa. Some members have noted – casually out of the association- the presence of men in uniform who walked around the van of the Antiracist Forum which support the small group of Lampedusa. After an exchange of information concerning the use and presence of the vehicle outside Askavusa, the police asked -not very well motivating- the identity documents of the few members who were talking with. After a few minutes, the focus of the conversation moved from the van, to the number and identity of the guys that were in the building, and further the nature of Askavusa. In less than an hour, the police had already collected data of all presents and was preparing to search the apartment on the ground floor of Via Verga 1, where we currently resides. To very unpleasant thing is the identification operations were carried out by agents very publicly and without explaining clearly what was the basic motivation behind all the operation itself.

The situation has further deteriorated yesterday with a new episode of interest by the police against members of Askavusa and the Anti-racist Forum.

Yesterday evening around 8pm three members of the associations that were above the port noticed a group of Tunisians in the area of the maritime station. Wanting to talk to them, the guys asked for permission to the policemen. The agents agree and begins a conversation between them. The conversation, conducted in Arabic, sounds strange to staff members who asked to use French. Arabic emerges as a means of communication because French is difficult to migrants. The conversation is translated into Italian for transparency, but the police is not happy about, and decide to take the personal details of the three guys and then to push them away. The officials point out that the three activists have the opportunity to talk to the Tunisians, respecting what is their right. So the representative of Askavusa, and Forum Anti-racist moved away from the port with the van already inspected by the police a few days earlier. .
After about an hour, the three came into a pizzeria to eat, but do not even had time to sit that a dozen policemen bursted into the room and invited the guys to follow them because they want to re-inspect the van, and for the first time, the home where they reside. Meanwhile, the agents begun a process of intimidation of foreign journalists and a member of Askavusa that was with them. The agents required the camera to be turned off, and started an external inspection of the journalists’ vehicle. Deliberately they decided the journalists and the other member of Askavusa were accomplices of the three guys in question .When the police was questioned about the nature of such a brutality, they just said ”a very serious thing happened at the port, there is an ongoing investigation and is secret ”. Unaware of what they were accused for, the group asked again “we can not tell you,” the guys were accompanied to the van with the order to open it for further investigation. The police recommended to avoid the help of a lawyer, and only after a clear insistence, the activists could call a lawyer. In the meantime, they were joined by other agents that blocked the road, at least three or four police vans and an indefinite number of agents. One of the activists of Tunisian origin , but Italian citizenship, was heavily fondled by agents, in particular Dr. Guarino, who was disappointed he could not withdraw his citizenship and that he was a guest here in Italy. After a careful search of the van, with negative result, the police passed to the inspection of the apartment, which was also negative. The guys were later moved to the police headquarters where the interrogation was completed after about four hours. During a grueling minutes of waiting, Dr.. Guarino reiterated his accusations and threatened to arrest the guys in case they would have still communicated with migrants or only if they had approached the residence of the detention center. The threat, made in the presence of the lawyer, Paolo La Rosa, was of gravity unheard before, something that should never be made by a public official. Further in the report hand out by the police, serious errors and misrepresentations have been reported. However, the thing that appeared strange is how 9 migrants, part of a group that numbered 15, were able to escape the police, which are numerous on the island and particularly in the port area.

What happened in the space of time of these past days, it is unacceptable and unlawful. The system of repression that we have been experiencing is inexplicable to us. It is evident, the desire to prevent the monitoring efforts made by citizens on the island, limiting their freedom of movement and activities take place. We have seen what might be called an abuse of power by the police, for the simple fact that societies, like those mentioned above, try to create spaces for exchange and where democracy refuge.

Comment is free

At present I am in Lampedusa, a tiny rock of 20,2 km² and inhabited by 6000 people in the Mediterranean. The geographical position of the place -between Tunisia and Libya- determines the present socio-political conditions in which we are living. Since the end of February, we have assisted to a massive movement of people who depart from the African coast directed to Europe to escape from Tunisia and Libya, and gain a better life style here. Landings have always been part of the story of Lampedusa, but what we are witnessing now is something ‘I do not want to tell my sons one day’ quoting a local. It has been roughly calculated that 12000 migrants have already stopped here, and at the moment there are 5000 migrants.

A few years ago the Italian government set an Identification and Expulsion Centre (CIE), where migrants used to stay 48hrs and then transferred to other centers in Italy, inventing the so called ‘Lapedusa model’. This immediate transfer was dictated by a simple reason: the fragile economy of the place is based on tourism. The CIE may contain 800 people, but three weeks ago there were at least 3000 people living in awful conditions.The number of migrants landing here escalated since then, until the point of being overcrowded. Today the migrants arriving in Lampedusa are located in the mooring area, wharf, museum, and church dormitory. The main problem is the mooring and wharf area, as there is a simple structure which -including the porch- can shelter 100 people. All the rest of the migrants, who can not get in the structure, are sleeping in tents built with plastic, cardboards, or blankets on the slope of the hill next to the mooring, or under the lorries parked there.

Imagine a slum, without electricity, services, toilets…this is the place where refugees stay the first week they are in Lampedusa. Once some 600 people are transferred from the CIE of Lampedusa to other similar places in Italy, the migrants of the mooring replace them, and newcomers take the tends left empty by their ‘colleagues’.

Last week we assisted to the last blackmail of the government. The last palliative to sort out and manage the situation is to set up a camp with tents nearby the ex NATO area. Sunday the local population occupied the main port with the attempt to stop the unloading of the container of the tents. They allowed to pass goods, such as fish, to be loaded into the boat directed to Italy. Once the operation finished, the government blackmailed the local authority and the population: we won’t bring the fish to Italy, if we won’t be able to unload the container. Although the local council -chaired by the right party Lega Nord part of Berlusconi coalition- agreed with the Minister of the Interior, Maroni (Lega Nortd) that the camp won’t be set up, they had to surrender. At 7pm lorries moved the containers outside the mooring area. It is now clear that there is a conflict within the same party, or better between members of the same government, ‘seasoned’ by a racist feeling. Maroni is supporting the regions where the Lega Nord is strong, such as Veneto, Lombardia and Liguria. All these regional councils have already expressed their opinion on regard: not in my back yard. Thus Maroni, and the government, is well intentioned to leave the situation as it is.

Lampedusa is a island in the Mediterranean managed by Lega Nord, where the government is trying to confine the problem, creating an open sky refugee camp. The Italian government is ignoring the conditions in which migrants and locals are living. The decay and sanitary condition are unbelievable, as no one is cleaning the areas where migrants are accomodated, for example it’s been calculated that in the CIE every 300 people there is a toilet. And this is just the tip of the ice berg. Talking to some Tunisian guys I discovered their food contains drugs to quieten them. They sleep after every meal for hours, waking up with strong head aches. The top has been reached yesterday when the meal for the migrants of the mooring area has been delivered by the lorry which collects rubbish. The company said they washed and lined it to preserve the food, but the migrants refused to eat it and run on the hill.

The police and the army sent on the island are not smoothing the difficult situation in which we are all in. Last week I have been detained because I was changing some Dinars in Euro, as it’s consider a crime. The consequence is evident: when these people finish the little amount of euro they came here with, they beg for. Further, the law imposes to present a document similar to the NIN to get the access to public internet cafes, and considering the migrants are all without it, they end up spending lot of money on public telephone cards. We supported the facebook driven revolution, and now we are trying to stop it.

However, yesterday Maroni visited Tunisia and signed an agreement with the government worth €150mln. The Tunisian government will patrol the shore to avoid further departures, but everyone knows this is a political move to gain votes and sympathy. Last minute news: Frattini, the Minister of the Foreign Affairs proposed to pay €1500 per person to be sent back and develop their own business.

As you may know, the media are controlled mainly by the Berlusconi’s family. The result is obvious: they are using and abusing the situation in order to gain the political conflict in the parliament. The reality is twisted depicting a bucolic situation on the island. Even extra parliament groups are fueling this situation: today at 7.30pm the leader of the extreme right party Forza Nuova, Mr Fiore will chair a meeting with members of the same group. They are all coming from the continent just for this event.

It is a pity the government does not consider the situation as it is: drastic…but what can we expect from Berlusconi’s coalition, a corrupted and mafioso system?

They are coming from the sea

At 3.30pm I receive a text from a colleague about a boat full of Tunisian sighted  by the Guarda Costiera, or costal guard, and the agency Frontex at 50 km from the coast. I go down to the port where there are already journalists and photographers waiting for the miracle: a boat full of Northern Africans appear behind the rocks delimiting the bay. After forty minutes waiting, we get the signal we are close to have our miracle: a small boat of the Guardia Costiera leaves the port in direction south-west, reappearing just a fifteen minutes later escorting a bigger boat with immigrants on board, and a medium size one with a cameraman.

Medics and paramedics are waiting at the mooring the refugees to give medical assistance, especially to those who are in hypothermia. I get closer to the gate of the mooring, until the point I trespass  it with the rest of the journalists  outside the entrance. I reach the group of Tunisian landed in Lampedusa. Twenty two young men and a woman, who is going to feed  the small group of four, already detained in the centre. She is immediately wrapped in a thermal blanket and pushed in the ambulance together with two men in her same conditions.

The rest of the crew is invited to walk towards the gate from which I went through. There is a bus waiting for them directed to the immigration center , where they will probably stay for a while. I look at them walking in a row, and queuing to get on the bus. Their faces are carved by the wind, and the wrinkles full of sea salt. They look exhausted, but relieved like a marathoner after the competition. Smiling and waiving hands like winners, or the survivals of the Titanic.

The majority of the boats reaching this side of the Mediterranean are old and in bad condition. They crash and sink  because the number of people on board is higher than the actual capacity.  It is a dangerous trip which can cost more than the €2000 required for the ticket. The guys I spook to told me they did not have water or food with them

Tunisian at the mooring while assisted by International agency workers in Lampedusa

and they were really scared to the point someone thought they were all going to die. In 2 or 3 days you could reach Lampedusa, but most of them want to go to France, where their relatives live. They want normality, independence, and dignity.

So far…not so good

Lampedusa looks a paradise from the deck where I am standing. I get off the ferry and Emanuele welcomes me. The main road is almost desert while Emanuele drives me through: just a few passers by and small isolated groups of young Tunisians with shopping bags.

Emanuele updates me about the situation…many boats, and many more people on them , landed during the past few weeks…he shows me the road to the detention centre on a map  (CPT in Italian) and I leave with the idea to go there. Young African guys sit at a cafe on the road to the centre, drinking soft drinks, coffee and smiling at me. I remember Emanuele told me the police is having a lot of problems because they can not stop the refugees from leaving the place where they are detained. The centre is small and overcrowded, and the fence is not enough to isolate immigrants. The uphill road, which leads to the prison faces south west and at 2.30pm -lunch time- is quiet and desert, only a few vans of the local co-operative managing the detention centre

run up and down the hill. After 500m I notice the road is blocked: a big police van is  parked right in the middle, stopping and asking for documents. At the check point I can not deny I am waiting to receive mine…obviously they do not let me go through., and the only thing left is to hoping to be able to get in tomorrow.
I walk back towards the port of Lampedusa. A car coming from the direction of the detention centre pulls off 100m in front of me. A man aged 50 offers me a lift, I jump up, and I start to make him questions. He works in the canteen of centre and he is very keen on talking. He tells me two weeks ago there were 3000 people, some of them have been flown out to other detention centers, probably Puglia or Sicily, so now the detainees are around 1400. He describes the situation as chaotic. The number of police is limited, and it will probably be better when the army will come to the island in a couple of days. He says, it is impossible to 

The door of Lampedusa...door of Europe

keep so many human beings in such a small place, there is not enough room for all of them,and the co-operative needs more staff as in the kitchen there are just 4 cookers.  I ask him about the presence of women in the centre, but he does not remember any of them. He carries on with his story; he was a fisherman, but since the activity is no longer remunerative, he left the sea and got employed in the co-operative running the centre. Years of intensive fishing dissipated  the  reserve leaving many people without any other solution than changing job or leaving the island.

At the end of the day business is business, and immigration is part of it. However people here are friendly and try to cope with the situation, though it is difficult because political parties are exacerbating the relationship between locals, police and immigrants.