I understood when I go to City to Milan to request a certificate and produce my passport or my Italian identity card, the officer without even a peek at my files, but just looking at him, however, requires my residence permit means a document that no Italian citizen possesses. I remember an occasion when, in a decentralized branch of the City of Milan, an official was surprised that I could have Italian identity card and called to the aid of two other colleagues noticed that leaving the people in line to the respective branches. Their conversation went something like this.
"He gave me his Italian identity card but says he has no permission to stay. How is that possible?".
"How did you get an identity card, if you do not have a permit to stay there ... you know? Where did you get this document? Understand Italian?". "I do not have permission to stay," I simply respond.
The document issued by the municipality (and in the hands of three officers of the City) was printed "Italian citizen" but they continued to concentrate on my black face, while people lost patience waiting. Why not read what is written on paper? "I suggested. A moment of surprise .... but finally gave me of her." She is an Italian citizen? Why did not he say so? We are not accustomed to seeing an immigrant
...". This claim would seem to have some sense but instead, to cut short, I emphasize that they are now an Italian citizen, I would answer such phrases: "You have a passport Italian, but you're not Italian. "Or, with a smile:" You do not have the Italian nationality as us, you only have Italian citizenship because you're extra. "When I lived near Viale Piave, Milan central area, I happened to while at night I was opening my car and I was holding the keys to a person approached me and asked why I was opening a peremptory tone that car. Instinctively I replied: "Because I'm stealing! Call the police immediately." And the executioner, displaced, which is not stayed away.
On another occasion in Milan at eight in the morning in a high traffic street, my companion as he drove inadvertently crossed the street to a woman on the motorcycle. It 'ran down to make sure the wretched state. I took the wheel to move the car and leave the traffic at rush hour. Another woman (white) in the tail fell from his car and ran towards my companion (white) spreading panic and told her: "While you're here looking, you're an immigrant stealing the car." "It's not a thief, he is my companion, he was told.
Every time I moved, I had to face a sort of rite of passage. At first, I greet with a smile crossed the tenants in the hall for the event: "Hello!" or "Good evening." With the young everything runs smoothly. While adults are more suspicious. I can also understand them until they ask me if I live there, because it is the first time we meet. But I remain blown away when I am responding to the greeting phrases like: "Do not buy anything. You can not sell." "Who made you come in?".
In September this year I was with my son 12 years with him and waited for the arrival of the subway station to gym. As always, the speaker urged passengers not to exceed the yellow safety line. An elderly gentleman called out my son: "They talk with you, boy. You have exceeded the yellow line. You know that here is prohibited beyond the yellow line ... rude." I pointed out that my elder son was out of the yellow line but he continued to rant: "You should not even be in this country. ... Go home you scum of the world.'ll Pay sooner or later."
few weeks ago I went into Linate airport kiosk to buy a newspaper. There was a young officer tattooed all over, I approached him and told me to pay another chest open. I paid and I started toward the exit when the young officer he started yelling at the cashier: "That man of color has paid the newspaper?". The cashier replied shouting: "Yes, the black man has paid." Returning back to say: "There is no need to shout in this way. Did you see well while I was paying." "She looked at me right? You know who you're talking about?" I look good! You know what they are? She realizes what is this? ". He tried to intimidate me. "A racist!" I tell him. "Yes, I am a racist. Be very careful." "You're an idiot," I replied.
those who live this everyday situations for more than 25 years and eventually accept them, pretend nothing happened to live without going crazy, or it can become suspicious, surly, full of "prejudices on the other hand, often on tenterhooks with the risk of confusing situations and to see racists emerge from all parties, to lose their heads and shouting and swearing in the crowd. And the perpetrator who has the knife by the handle, calmly says using a "formula" fixed but very effective, "Look, is screaming to me is insulting. He is only a guest in my house. .. You are all witnesses .. "
I attended the event for the representation of a band to Aguzzano, near Piacenza. When almost everyone had left I saw a square in the middle of the Italian flag on fire without a reasonable explanation. I was careful not to turn it off even though I was close. What would think or how people would react seeing an "extra" in a village square with the Italian flag on fire in his hands? Too many symbols together. I left the flag burning pace of all. Instead, I
infinitely appreciated the conduct of the police presidium Metro Piazza Duomo in Milan. I did not want to get to work late and I was running around people. Suddenly I was grabbing and shoving behind. I found myself facing a young policeman in uniform that I cried to deliver the documents. I gave my ID card to the already furious policeman who, without opening it, he ordered me to follow him. Once at the police station, told his colleagues: "This extra acts as a bully."
Luckily my explanations were not denied by linking this to the facts. The police carefully check my documents and after they concluded that their young colleague was wrong and extend their apologies. They were also sorry for being late to work.
After all, I have the impression that, compared to most people, the police do not seem abnormal finding himself in front of an Italian citizen with black or brown leather. "We are not used ", we hear anytime, anywhere from nine out of ten people. E 'for an alibi which no longer holds after thirty years that we live and work here, we get married with Italian / Italian, we mixed the children or not, that grow and are educated in schools and Italian universities.
A shocking fact is when three years ago I was attacked by four controllers Atm in Milan and ended up in the emergency room. Even now I am facing processes, but with the controllers as victims and as I accused. One thing is certain, I still have faith in Italian justice. (La Repubblica, December 12, 2009)
Pap Khouma, of Senegalese origin, has lived in Milan, where he has always dealt with culture and literature, through numerous and varied experiences. He participated as a speaker at numerous national and international conferences, at major Italian universities (Milan, Rome, Bologna), on the big issues of immigration, culture and literature, and In 1998 he was invited to perform a series of conferences in the United States. Register of foreign journalists since 1994, for four years (1991-1995) has signed a book on "Linus," and collaborated with "Unity", "Diary", "Age", "Seven" "Metro". I published, salesman of elephant (along with the journalist and writer Orestes Pivetta, and Garzanti. 1990), now in its eighth edition, adopted by many schools as a textbook, and whose songs are included in numerous anthologies School, and was editor and co-author of Born in Senegal in migrant Italy (Environment ed. 1994).
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