With Malta reeling following the arrest of two soldiers for the alleged murder of migrant Lassana Cisse, and human rights organisations sounding the alarm about the rise of xenophobia, Ramona Depares delves into a publication that reveals how overt racism remains a strong reality for many migrants on the island.

Not even a week has gone by since two soldiers were arrested for allegedly killing migrant Lassana Cisse, in what is believed to be the first racially motivated murder in Malta.

With sources close to the investigation saying that one of the accused admitted targeting the migrants “just because they were black”, it is easy to see why the unexpected development has shocked an entire island.

Yet, within the community of migrants and those who work with them, the news may not have come as such an unexpected shock: a collection of personal experiences by migrants that were recently made public reveals that anti-migrant sentiment remains high in Malta. 

These experiences have now been published by human rights NGO Aditus in Our Island II: Personal Accounts of Refugees in Malta, as part of a longterm project that was launched last year. The stories reveal how the majority of Maltese having no interest in “befriending” or “publicly socialising” with black refugees.

The publication, funded by the Arts Council Malta, gives a voice to 12 migrants, who each share their own personal journey, challenges and triumphs since they made Malta their home, detailing touching efforts at self-improvement and integration.

It comes at a moment when Malta is going through a turbulent time with respect to migration issues. Some six weeks ago, a drive-by shooting in Ħal Far left one migrant dead and two others seriously injured. Even before that, a flag showing “right-wing symbols” was erected at a roundabout close to the Ħal Far open centre, twice, before being taken down by officials. And, earlier this year, NGO SOS Malta flagged an increase in hate speech.

Anti-migrant sentiment

The new publication reflects these worries, revealing that simple daily life remains a struggle for the majority of migrants, with xenophobia and overt discrimination still rife.

...this six-foot African, standing next to your door, maybe they were thinking I might eat them. That was a challenging time

Sekou, who first arrived to Malta from Libya in June 2014, reports how: “If, on the bus, you see an empty seat near someone, you can tell from their face that they would be uncomfortable if I sat next to them... You face this on public transport and on the street,”

He describes how many Maltese he meets believe that migrants don’t want to integrate, using expressions like “once from the jungle, you are always from the jungle” and that a migrant can never have anything positive to offer.

“Walking in the street, you realised that some people are definitely not comfortable with me being their neighbour,” he says, of the first time he left the detention centre to start living in one of Malta’s villages. “The first time, this six-foot African, standing next to your door, maybe they were thinking I might eat them. That was a challenging time.”

Getting people to change this perception took time and a lot of effort, he writes, but he did meet with a measure of success: “The kids, when they see us, they no longer run away”.

Perhaps even more worryingly, Sekou sees a general anti-migrant sentiment taking hold globally, even away from Maltese shores. He describes how he would “find the same situation in Salvini’s Italy” and that in Germany he’d “find the far-right, in Austria the same thing”.

It is a sentiment that is echoed by most of the migrants who took the decision to share their thoughts in this publication. Farah, described as a “black, working man” from Kenya, recounts how, despite the fact that many migrants carry out a determined effort at self-betterment and integration, these attempts are often thwarted by public perception and misconceptions.

“Racial profiling of sub-Saharan African nationals was not uncommon on the island. I would soon come face-to-face with this reality when I was denied entry into a house where I was contracted to do gypsum installation together with my colleague, the white boy.”

In the book, Farah describes his feelings upon being told that the client did not want “a coloured man” in his house.

“I stood there frozen... I saw nothing short of disgust on his face, almost hatred... I stood there, the wounded dog that I’ve now become, licking my wounds, too embarrassed to move.”

Hard to integrate

His words are echoed by Dursa, who arrived by boat in 2013 and today is the vice-president of Spark15, a refugee-led NGO for young people. Dursa recounts how he knows of people who have been in Malta for 20 years, but who have not yet managed to integrate.

“They have a family, they have children going to school. They come home from school crying that they don’t have any friends,” he says.

Hana, who today works as interpreter, agrees, describing how after seven years on the island, she “still feels like a refugee”.

“Maltese people find it hard to connect with us and thus, they always look for other Maltese people to connect with,” she says, adding that “if you wear a veil or have a different skin colour, it is as if you don’t exist”.

Religion, she says, is used as a “cultural defence point”, with people assuming that she must be Muslim because of her skin colour. In reality, she is Christian.

Class segregation is another problem that is all too real. Nicky, who has been in Malta for 20 years, describes living in Bugibba for three months as “scary”.

“It was the lack of compassion to each other... everyone at each other’s throat. It’s not only from Maltese to foreigners, it’s both ways,” she says.

Having come to Malta when she was six weeks pregnant, she says that not even her son – who is 19-years-old today and who considers Malta home – can understand what a migrant truly goes through.

“He can only understand the concept of what I’m talking about at an artificial level. Deep down, he doesn’t really get it. He’s never had to go to Valletta at 3am in the freezing cold and stand in queue just to get a paper. He’s never been in a mob of people stampeding each other to get in,” she says.

Sense of hope

Tales of excessive bureaucracy and inhumane living conditions are rife. Hana, too, refers to the problem, saying that there are “too many difficulties to renew Identity Cards, getting Social Security numbers and so forth. The situation is much harder for refugees who suffer from disabilities and old people who do not have work. They can become homeless faster than others. Some refugees have even ended up at Mount Carmel by mistake”.

Sekou agrees, describing how when he first arrived he’d be kept locked up indoors for 22 hours.

“We had only one hour to spend outside in a sort of cage, an open area less than hundred by hundred.  Even to go see a doctor at the hospital, we got handcuffed. That was my worst experience, being handcuffed,” he remembers.

Our Island II: Personal Accounts of Refugees in Malta contains many more such stories that shed a disturbing light on the local situation, but it also contains elements of hope. Tales of helpful employers, kind landlords, improved conditions at open centres, migrants who have managed to climb up the work ladder.

Many refugees work hard here, and it is heartening when employers acknowledge their toil

“Many refugees work hard here, and it is heartening when employers acknowledge their toil. When there is a lack of paperwork, you see refugees accompanied by their employers to see what needs to be done to help them. These situations give me hope,” Hana, says.

Sekou, too, recounts similarly positive experiences at his place of employment, describing colleagues as “very helpful, supportive”.

“They made me feel like I was part of a family, so that has left an indelible impression with me. Because it is rare, working in a good environment, with good colleagues.”

Different standards

ADITUS director Neil Falzon explains how, part of the challenge related to migration issues is that the migration discourse “tends to ignore the very human stories that populate it”, adding that that problem is made worse by a “lack of interest”.

“Humanising migrants is fundamental. We know that it’s difficult for most to make that extra effort to remember that, for example, the refugee stuck on a ship outside Malta is a father thinking about his kids back home; that your Ghanian neighbour is worried about her electricity bills; that your son’s classmate hates his homework!” Dr Falzon says, adding that the idea of the publication is to make it easier for readers to see refugees for what they are.

“They are not numbers and not superheroes. They are just regular people who’ve been through exceptional situations,” he says.

He describes how, from his experience working with migrants, they are held to a far higher standard than would normally be expected from people.

“Their struggle is to behave in a way that does not merely meet social standards, but quite often surpasses such standards... There is the feeling among migrants that the only path to acceptance, integration and respect is to live by a behaviour threshold that is far higher than that set for any other person living in Malta, including Maltese nationals,” he explains.

Thus, migrants feel the need to be “cleaner, quieter, more obedient, more hard-working, more punctual, learn more languages, do more voluntary work, get higher grades and, generally be true heroes in everything”.

Finding people who were willing to share their stories publicly was very difficult, Dr Falzon admitted. Many would have already exposed details of their private lives to the Police, the asylum case-workers, their lawyers and social-workers – an experience that he describes as “exhausting and, for some, retraumatising”.

“Most are afraid that speaking about being constantly called ‘klandestin’ or being told ‘go back to your country’ will not go down well with their employers or colleagues,” he says.

The stories should not necessarily be taken as representative of reality across the board, Dr Falzon adds, as this approach runs this risk of  reducing a community to the “poster refugee”.

Mixed messages

Asked whether Malta’s political leaders are doing enough to encourage inclusion, Dr Falzon hesitates before admitting that this is a difficult question to answer and that “we’re constantly reading mixed messages”.

“The new Integration Unit, based on the national integration framework, is a great step in the right direction. We know that the Unit is doing its utmost to work on a number of challenging issues, including convincing Government that integration is in the interests of the entire nation,” he says.

At the same time, he laments hearing “terrible statements about ‘low-quality foreigners’ and what jobs they should be doing for us”.

Referring to the Hal Far shooting incident, he points out that there was “no national outcry, no clear statement that all people in Malta – whatever their skin colour – will be protected”.

“ Why can’t refugees enjoy the same political support the LGBTIQ+ community does? We have rainbow zebra crossings, why can’t we have similar public statements of solidarity with people fleeing their homes?” he asks in conclusion.

The book is available from Aditus Foundation against a donation.