When the blue Sunday sky was draped with yellow balloons, the 'piazza's were filled with hundreds of people chanting and singing for equal rights, Italy was witnessing the first organised nation wide protest by the immigrants of this country. ' A day without us' was the slogan and it was a brave attempt by the foreign born workers to highlight their immense contribution to ticking of Italy. Marches and demonstrations were staged in sixty odd cities. Yellow was the visible colour, stiched as shirts, worn as armbands, the colour in itself was a non political statement in the land of the Azzurris.
Naples had the biggest shout, some 20,000 weaved through the city centre chanting "We are the citizens of tomorrow! We are paying for your pensions." People of all colours, countries, jobs, legal, illegal; all joined the protests. Along with them were quite a lot of Italians who wore their heart out on their sleeves sensing the enormous contribution of the immigrant workers. The Roman demonstrators were more explicit when they set shop on the world's wonder Colosseum and had hand written banners draped on the structure. One read " Look out, here comes the illegal aliens; nannies, caregivers and labourers."
Over 4.8 million immigrants live in Italy, double the number of 2001. Numerically they make up 7.1% of the population and 8 % of the labour force, numbers that you have to reckon with. 67% of them are legally employed, i.e, nearly two of three immigrants. Caritas, the Catholic charity network recounts that immigrants produce upwards of 10% of Italy's GDP and contribute over 10.2 billion euros worth of income tax revenue. Italy's agricultural farms, domestic and service sectors, industry and building initiatives depend heavily on the foreign born labour and they have become an indispensable force to the economic and social life of the country. Accept it or not, this is the reality. But of late the economic and immigration drives of the government has created quite a lot of bad blood and stalemate.
Illegal immigrants on their part have not contributed to the solution of asylum of immigrants. The policies of the government have been widely criticised and considered as an affront to the basic humanitarian considerations. Violent demonstrations by immigrants, just like the one that happened in Milan last month has also not helped the cause of the immigrants. But nothing much has changed for the immigrants. Working for a pittance under harsh living conditions, harassed and bullied by the police, scoffed and sneered on account of skin and culture, they have shouldered many a storm and in turn become the pillars of the prestigious Italian food export and many industries.
Incidents of immigrants being booked and rounded up to be jailed and deported are quite common. Although street vendors are banned by law, lots of immigrants take up to selling merchandise, counterfeit and original. When the heavens open up, they are ready with umbrellas, selling them for astronomical figures. When the cold snap augurs in a bitter day, beautiful shawls hang from their hands. 'Cometh the hour and cometh the man', the twist is that they always sell with a single eye, the other eye is always spared for the plain clothes Caribinieri who waits to pounce on them.
This rainy day had presented another day of selling umbrellas. The bus was not crowded and the frail looking street vendor was at the rear end of the bus. He must have been praying to the rain gods. Suddenly the ticket inspectors block the three doors. The man makes a futile attempt to exit. The young ticket inspector has already found his prey, his instincts tell him that he has hit the bull's eye. While the greeting 'Signore, signori, biglietti per favore' (Ladies and gentlemen, tickets please) escapes his mouth, he has a firm hand around the hapless old man. This is not going to be easy. His eyes are bright. The old man has no ticket. He opens his torn purse, the search is futile, there is no sign of a ticket, even if he had one it should have been con-validated at the start of the journey. The next question is about the document. Fortunately he has his stay permit. But the ordeal continues. The examiner leaves the other passengers, he has his catch, perhaps another successful day at office. While the interrogation continues, the doors open again. I think of yesterday's yellow balloons and the slogan, 'A day without us.'
Over 4.8 million immigrants live in Italy, double the number of 2001. Numerically they make up 7.1% of the population and 8 % of the labour force, numbers that you have to reckon with. 67% of them are legally employed, i.e, nearly two of three immigrants. Caritas, the Catholic charity network recounts that immigrants produce upwards of 10% of Italy's GDP and contribute over 10.2 billion euros worth of income tax revenue. Italy's agricultural farms, domestic and service sectors, industry and building initiatives depend heavily on the foreign born labour and they have become an indispensable force to the economic and social life of the country. Accept it or not, this is the reality. But of late the economic and immigration drives of the government has created quite a lot of bad blood and stalemate.
Illegal immigrants on their part have not contributed to the solution of asylum of immigrants. The policies of the government have been widely criticised and considered as an affront to the basic humanitarian considerations. Violent demonstrations by immigrants, just like the one that happened in Milan last month has also not helped the cause of the immigrants. But nothing much has changed for the immigrants. Working for a pittance under harsh living conditions, harassed and bullied by the police, scoffed and sneered on account of skin and culture, they have shouldered many a storm and in turn become the pillars of the prestigious Italian food export and many industries.
Incidents of immigrants being booked and rounded up to be jailed and deported are quite common. Although street vendors are banned by law, lots of immigrants take up to selling merchandise, counterfeit and original. When the heavens open up, they are ready with umbrellas, selling them for astronomical figures. When the cold snap augurs in a bitter day, beautiful shawls hang from their hands. 'Cometh the hour and cometh the man', the twist is that they always sell with a single eye, the other eye is always spared for the plain clothes Caribinieri who waits to pounce on them.
This rainy day had presented another day of selling umbrellas. The bus was not crowded and the frail looking street vendor was at the rear end of the bus. He must have been praying to the rain gods. Suddenly the ticket inspectors block the three doors. The man makes a futile attempt to exit. The young ticket inspector has already found his prey, his instincts tell him that he has hit the bull's eye. While the greeting 'Signore, signori, biglietti per favore' (Ladies and gentlemen, tickets please) escapes his mouth, he has a firm hand around the hapless old man. This is not going to be easy. His eyes are bright. The old man has no ticket. He opens his torn purse, the search is futile, there is no sign of a ticket, even if he had one it should have been con-validated at the start of the journey. The next question is about the document. Fortunately he has his stay permit. But the ordeal continues. The examiner leaves the other passengers, he has his catch, perhaps another successful day at office. While the interrogation continues, the doors open again. I think of yesterday's yellow balloons and the slogan, 'A day without us.'
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