Lidija is only six and holds a small accordion in her hands. Her older cousins are better; they can play entire songs; whereas she just hits the same key over and over, to then casually move on to the next. However, her task is the same as the others’: bring money home. And she must do it, because otherwise she might be made to suffer. Lidija belongs to a subway-roaming community based at the Anagnina station of the Rome subway. They spread around the lines in groups of two: an adult and a kid, or even two kids, it doesn’t matter if too small. There’s no other choice. “I have to do it,” says Lidija with a whisper, having accepted two euros with a smile. “I cannot say no.” Then the smile vanishes from her face. She says nothing more and just leaves, under the ice-cold eyes of the commuters. People look at her annoyed, rather than feel pity. As if that little kid had chosen, on her own decision, to stay right there in front of them and ask for change. Lidija is very young and her profession is to beg for money; she shares it with thousands of Rom children, under the indifferent eyes of institutions and the annoyance of the public. Lidija is a child slave – let’s say it straight; even though it might be more convenient to close one’s eyes when faced with stories like hers. And she is a victim, in a certain sense, of human trafficking.
Her childhood denied, she is now being exploited: what else do we need, in order to speak of slavery? Slavery rears its ugly head each time that the powerful abuse the weak, as in the case of immigrants. Yet, Italy doesn’t seem too concerned with this, to judge by the data published by GRETA, the European Council agency that deals with trafficking in human beings, in its first report on the country. There have been 214 indictments in 2012, 228 in 2011, 229 in 2010, 271 in 2009. And yet, all this has led to just 14 sentences in 2010 and 9 in 2011: this is what Italian justice has achieved, against the traffickers of humans.
The most recent investigations have shown the horror of these journeys of hope from the Libyan coast towards Italy. People are led through the desert by unscrupulous slave traders, who often rape the women and children and kill the men. Who survives this nightmare lasting weeks if not months gets on the boats and these floating wrecks loaded to the brim do not always make it to the destination.
Landings from the sea get more visibility, but there is another route, through East Europe rather than Africa, which may be less visible, but not less dramatic. People are promised jobs but, once they arrive in Italy, they are released on a sidewalk. Nobody knows you, your papers are fake, you cannot ask for help. Or, at least, this is what your jailers want you to believe, in order to keep you in chains.
And there’s more: the report on Italy says that “the data provided do not account for the actual magnitude of the phenomenon” of the young slave trade, because Italy lacks the proper mechanisms for identifying victims and collecting the data; which means that farm labor slaves, caregivers, home helpers and child beggars remain therefore hidden from the radar of the authorities.
Facing such a humanitarian catastrophe of Biblical proportions, the Italian response – according to Europe – is weak, which is certainly true, at least legally speaking. Let’s not forget, though, that the same Europe that today is pointing fingers – this very much economic and very little political union – has washed its hands of responsibility for the victims. This is certainly a vice of the Old World’s rulers: they were so eager to bomb Libya, when it was the case of defending their oil interests; but then they managed, as quickly, to avert their eyes from the slave trade centers in the desert. As they do now, when they ignore the little ghosts – such as Lidija – who roam our city subways, asking for change.
Translation provided by ProLingua
