Like a man on Escape
This morning I woke up early to go to class. The last lesson, I think, of my college career.
This lesson has had a very special meaning. There was a guest in the classroom. An important guest, invited by a professor of investigative journalism Pietro Veronese (La Repubblica). In attendance were
Dagmawi Yimer, an Ethiopian boy landed in Italy after a long journey.
Dagmawi studied law in Addis Ababa and fled to Italy because of the difficult situation in his country of origin.
In the 80s and 90s in Ethiopia was the dictatorship of the 'red soldiers' of Mengistu Haile Mariam, then replaced by a neoliberal government. Today
power self-sufficient and repressive government of Melles Zenawi off any hope of civil renewal in Ethiopia. Almost all the opposition leaders are imprisoned or missing.
This premise is used to understand the reasons for the departure of Dagmawi.
him, who could not see his parents because they would not allow him to leave. He has been through the desert aboard a pick up in conditions of extreme degradation, crammed with dozens and dozens of people. He who arrived in Italy, Frattini met at a conference on relations between Italy and Libya and has not even spit in the face. He has been sold to the Libyan police for thirty pieces of silver. He has had the courage to tell.
spoke softly, slowly and quietly. It was sweet, listened to and answered questions, spoke good Italian, he had tears in his eyes and a grace that are the envy.
Few of you know (because I'm not saying the news was hidden, but treated as a minor) in August 2008 that Berlusconi and Gaddafi signed a "treaty of friendship, partnership and cooperation."
October 2007 ENI and NOC, the Libyan state oil company, signed an agreement for the development of gas production in Libya for twenty-eight billion dollars over ten years.
In December 2007 a Protocol of Cooperation between Italy and Libya was signed by the then Interior Minister Giuliano Amato. The unlawful practice of forced return has been legalized.
Berlusconi, just to fuck off by these immigrants, decided to send overseas patrol boats, cars and bags of dead (and is not a joke), along with the money needed to pay for return flights and three detention camps (true centers torture).
The Libyan police is perhaps the worst of all the planet.
While the President signed the agreements for the gas with Gaddafi, thousands of Africans were tortured in detention camps built with our money. They beat the Ethiopian people just because they are Arab. Rape their wives, put them in one room, piled up like animals. They can not even sleep for what they are tight. They take turns.
The worst torture in the detention center undergo Kufra.
Remember this. Kufra.
not only the Libyan state still uses the death penalty, but is still widespread practice of torture, especially in prisons (chained to a wall for hours, beaten with wooden sticks, electric shocks, lemon juice in open wounds, spin corkscrews to the back, finger fractures, suffocation caused by plastic bags, sleep deprivation, food and water).
That is, while Berlusconi makes lifting and its filth at Villa Certosa, and reduces the Gelmini programs, lessons and makes discrimination between Italian and foreign children, and Alfano wants to pass the award as unconstitutional in history, while praising Mussolini, while press freedom is abolished and the intercepts become a source of incredibly high fines for journalists and publishers, while the crisis ravaging the state and not, as thousands of young people pay a rent of five hundred euro a month for a single in the capital , while studying at all, while the provinces are reduced and the retirement age for women is set twenty years after menopause, in the meantime, the Wisdom, at eight-thirty in the morning, I have also moved me with Dagmawi because he was beaten, robbed and humiliated, detained in African centers had built with our money!
Here. Here's what we are.
He does not react, I was just crying. And look at him, and I feel strong, very strong indeed.
smiles when an Italian looks. Do not have prejudices against us. Go around the schools and universities. And I am ashamed of my country, and I can not say anything. I remain silent, staring in disbelief.
He smiles and says that its Today has learned that a Libyan policeman raped a girl of twenty-two years. He knows it. Today is a bit 'sad about it.
"I can not do anything," he says. And then he said: "Berlusconi is not, only he is not the problem. The Left has treated the same way. The right and left are equal. " He knows this.
He knows. And do not watch our TV, not read our newspapers. Yet knows. He tried it on his skin.
Dagmawi he made the documentary
LIKE A MAN ON EARTH
Foreword by Ascanio Celestini. Sponsored by Amnesty International.
the film to Andrea Segre, Richard Biadene and Dagmawi Yimer, with a book of the Archives of Memory Migrants by Marco and Alessandro Triulzi Carsetti
Authors: Richard Biadene, Marco Carsetti, Andrea Segre, Alessandro Triulzi, Dagmawi Yimer
http://comeunuomosullaterra . blogspot.com /
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Shit Stain In Bathtub Poop
land in Puglia
At the bottom is the theme of the moment, so let's talk again, again and again.
I found a very interesting article Blog Maksim Cristan, Croatian writer (see "International" section Italien).
I would like to publish in full his article published in "The Unit" in May.
My considerations are a bit ' provocative. But just a little '. Let's all
in Apulia, there is the sea, there are fields, there is work and there Nichi. He (Cristan) is ironic. But perhaps it should not. The point is, perhaps till the ground, touch it, get in touch with a few people, without luxuries, all under the same sun, shirtless, eyes burning, sore feet, sweat, and direct, not divided by a screen, maybe yes, why not, we would do well. We do not need this job in a bank, we do not need this wealth. Teneteveli you these motherfuckin money, I need water, bread, bed, sea, land and especially the people, to look into my eyes and feel the touch.
precarious and migrants: "You know what? I run in Puglia "
of Cristan Maksim
Dear President of the Republic shall be a citizen of this country, my name is Igiaba Scego, born in '74 and I wanted to let you know that I'm giving up. Some time ago she was heartened by the precarious workers, the unemployed, the researchers without membership does not throw in the towel. We said 'Come on do not give up. Do not leave Italy. " Unfortunately, Mr President I'm giving up. I belong to, and is not an empty statistic, a generation that have been clipped wings. I am a fragile culture. I'm getting a precarious life. " On April 30 on "Unity" the writer Igiaba Scego wrote a letter to Napolitano. The President has received a few days after the Quirinale. There followed a long and passionate debate. The following is the message that the writer Maksim Croatian Cristan sent Igiaba. All of us
precarious intellectuals, immigrants or not, we read carefully the open letter of our colleague Igiaba Scego to President Napolitano, where he asks him to help everyone. The president is good and Igiaba invited to meet him. She said: Take the guarantor for us to make this theme (which are two: 1. Immigration and 2. "Brain drain") does not come from political agendas. Personally
I have known many cultural exiles in Berlin, arrived there because after losing confidence in the future in Italy. I also met some young people from Brescia, that when in their city, the mayor offered € 500 for each regular immigrant who decided to return to his country, they said, maybe we would give € 500 to go. Igiaba, I wonder how the hell did you come to mind to bother the President.
If you really want to solve something, you should write, in fact, the President of the Government. Have you already forgotten how he welcomed with open arms the request of the girl, who complained when their insecurity, the Premier said, "Miss, she is pretty, one of the spouses My children and solved all problems. " And you, Igi, you are certainly much prettier than that girl.
Oh yeah, I forgot, you, even if Italian, you're black as coal and as the Prime Minister does not want a multiethnic Italy, you would probably not at the table in the family and maybe you would propose to one of his sons of his friend Colonel Ghedaffi.
Igi is a mess, I admit, and even though I love you so, I can not even tell my wife! Since they are made worse off than you. What to do? If Mr. Vitor was still alive, knowing we would probably say, "but go all the fuck out in Puglia to demand a decent life for your scribbles and your volunteers for the lesser races! There that the communist government built hotels for immigrants also free laborers, "
But, joking, laughing, it might be an idea for us Igi. And even if the policy of Nichi the rest of Italy seems to Mars, for now, Italy is always. What are you doing, you come too?
May 26, 2010
At the bottom is the theme of the moment, so let's talk again, again and again.
I found a very interesting article Blog Maksim Cristan, Croatian writer (see "International" section Italien).
I would like to publish in full his article published in "The Unit" in May.
My considerations are a bit ' provocative. But just a little '. Let's all
in Apulia, there is the sea, there are fields, there is work and there Nichi. He (Cristan) is ironic. But perhaps it should not. The point is, perhaps till the ground, touch it, get in touch with a few people, without luxuries, all under the same sun, shirtless, eyes burning, sore feet, sweat, and direct, not divided by a screen, maybe yes, why not, we would do well. We do not need this job in a bank, we do not need this wealth. Teneteveli you these motherfuckin money, I need water, bread, bed, sea, land and especially the people, to look into my eyes and feel the touch.
precarious and migrants: "You know what? I run in Puglia "
of Cristan Maksim
Dear President of the Republic shall be a citizen of this country, my name is Igiaba Scego, born in '74 and I wanted to let you know that I'm giving up. Some time ago she was heartened by the precarious workers, the unemployed, the researchers without membership does not throw in the towel. We said 'Come on do not give up. Do not leave Italy. " Unfortunately, Mr President I'm giving up. I belong to, and is not an empty statistic, a generation that have been clipped wings. I am a fragile culture. I'm getting a precarious life. " On April 30 on "Unity" the writer Igiaba Scego wrote a letter to Napolitano. The President has received a few days after the Quirinale. There followed a long and passionate debate. The following is the message that the writer Maksim Croatian Cristan sent Igiaba. All of us
precarious intellectuals, immigrants or not, we read carefully the open letter of our colleague Igiaba Scego to President Napolitano, where he asks him to help everyone. The president is good and Igiaba invited to meet him. She said: Take the guarantor for us to make this theme (which are two: 1. Immigration and 2. "Brain drain") does not come from political agendas. Personally
I have known many cultural exiles in Berlin, arrived there because after losing confidence in the future in Italy. I also met some young people from Brescia, that when in their city, the mayor offered € 500 for each regular immigrant who decided to return to his country, they said, maybe we would give € 500 to go. Igiaba, I wonder how the hell did you come to mind to bother the President.
If you really want to solve something, you should write, in fact, the President of the Government. Have you already forgotten how he welcomed with open arms the request of the girl, who complained when their insecurity, the Premier said, "Miss, she is pretty, one of the spouses My children and solved all problems. " And you, Igi, you are certainly much prettier than that girl.
Oh yeah, I forgot, you, even if Italian, you're black as coal and as the Prime Minister does not want a multiethnic Italy, you would probably not at the table in the family and maybe you would propose to one of his sons of his friend Colonel Ghedaffi.
Igi is a mess, I admit, and even though I love you so, I can not even tell my wife! Since they are made worse off than you. What to do? If Mr. Vitor was still alive, knowing we would probably say, "but go all the fuck out in Puglia to demand a decent life for your scribbles and your volunteers for the lesser races! There that the communist government built hotels for immigrants also free laborers, "
But, joking, laughing, it might be an idea for us Igi. And even if the policy of Nichi the rest of Italy seems to Mars, for now, Italy is always. What are you doing, you come too?
May 26, 2010
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