Zac, writer and refugee mediator. My battle for dignity and integration in Italy.
Today, I find myself without an euro. My name is Zac. Next August 1st I will turn 33 and I am writing from Perugia. I am a mediator and writer; before fleeing Morocco, I also had a growing career as a content creator. I already have two complete manuscripts of spiritually inspired poems, in which I describe my life journey.
Today I spent my last €19 on the laundry. I don’t know how to pay the rent or the next bills, I prefer to turn off the switch rather than consume water and electricity that I can’t afford. They are literally at zero euros.
REFUGEE
Refugee: this status is not a choice, but after a legal procedure it is recognized by a commission when the foreigner has a justified fear of returning to his country of origin. In my case, it was because of the crime of homosexuality and a series of social persecutions. I am therefore neither an immigrant nor a tourist, and I have not even been lucky enough to be an international student as I would have liked. Italy is now my home, Italian is my language. I am working hard to integrate here, but it would be right to have a minimum of favorable conditions to be able to integrate and rebuild my life, after years of trauma and violence from which I have yet to heal, instead of having to deal with exploiters, xenophobes, homophobes, hostile bureaucracy and a society centered on personal interests.
THE ITALY I IMAGINED AND THE ITALY I FOUND
Before arriving, I had started studying opera singing, violin and Italian literature. I dreamed of living in an artistic city like Florence and I thought I would find Machiavelli and Alighieri to welcome me. Then I arrived on New Year’s Eve 2020, but I found a scared society, which was preparing for the total closure desired by the government of the president Conte during the COVID-19 pandemic.
Now, after four years, I am amazed at how my life is still looking for a start for my projects. According to the Meloni government, I’m a long-term unemployed person, with a very low annual income of €1,800. Maybe some will think I don’t want to work, but wait.
Last year I had nine jobs in the telemarketing, restaurant and cleaning industries. I don’t look down on anything; I started by cleaning hotel rooms and toilets, but all of them were precarious jobs and in cruel environments. This year, overcome by necessity and anguish, I reluctantly began to accept non declared jobs, but all the experiences have always gone badly due to the same precarious conditions and the dishonesty of the empooyers. The last restaurateur complained about INPS contributions, while within three years he is about to open the third restaurant. The second to last was a hotelier, who after three months of serious work, told me, together with his 80 year old mother:
“We are not a charity and you cost us too much for the contract; if you want, come for two hours for free to learn how to be a waiter well.”
In the end, my official job as a mediator is still unpaid, after a year. The manager of the agency I worked for doesn’t even send me a pay slip and neither explains me the cause of the delay.
Italy is a republic based on work, but work in Italy has no dignity. You can work, but if you want regularity and respect, they exclude you.
MY BATTLE IS NOT OVER
In terms of studies, I have a humanistic path: I have a diploma in modern literature, I speak four languages, I have a degree in Italian studies, I have a professional qualification as an intercultural mediator and I am now enrolled in a master’s degree in communication, which I attend with little assiduity and a lot of difficulty.
On a personal level, I am the only member of my family unit. I don’t have access to many opportunities due to citizenship or age limits, but I’m actually starting to see wrinkles around my eyes and white hair. I lost two teeth and I have back pain, and that scares me. I feel like I’m still in the waiting room in my life at 32.
To today’s Italy, which treats me as a non-EU citizen and excludes me from welfare, I ask: what kind of life can I build with zero euros? How can I integrate without a job placement? Do I have to abandon my degree course to work? Do I have to accept working illegally? The answer is no. What if I just dedicated myself to writing and social work, would I find paid work opportunities? Editorial opportunities? Maybe, why not. Do I have to go and live at SAI? Yes, but is there a place for me? For a year and a half I have been turning to social services without success. Compared to the social policies that my municipality applies, do I have to get to the point of becoming mentally ill or becoming a drug addict or homeless to deserve some concrete support? The only help I wasn’t denied was two meals from Caritas so I wouldn’t die of hunger. That’s all.
Zero euros means zero autonomy, zero dignity. My battle is not over, in a few days I will start a new job test and I will commit to taking the last seven remaining exams and publishing my debut book. I will continue my battle in the hope of building a dignified life, far from the criminal treatments I escaped from.
Zaccaria Yassin
translation by Sara Ahmad
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