Sabir, the Language of Welcome

Crotone is one of the Calabrian cities that receives the highest number of migrant arrivals by sea. The so-called “boats” very often carry unaccompanied minors who have set out on their own, without their parents, in search of a better future than the conditions they faced in their countries of origin.

The Sabir Center: An Educational and Intercultural Model

Currently, Sabir, an Emergency Reception Center, is hosting sixteen young people from Tunisia, Egypt, Guinea, Ivory Coast, and Pakistan. This intercultural environment fully embodies the meaning of the association’s name, which refers to a language that once united many Mediterranean countries.

As the organization’s spokesperson, Francesca Caiazzo, explained to us, Sabir is a place where people come together, regardless of their background, age, beliefs, or sexual orientation. In particular, we had the opportunity to interview one of the young people at the center—who is our age—and hear about his personal experience.

Lamine: The Face of a Journey Between Hope and Pain

Lamine (not his real name) arrived in Italy on April 25, 2025, and was taken in by Sabir a few days after disembarking. In his home country, his family faced severe financial hardship: their only means of support were his job as a delivery rider and his sister’s job.

The situation was made worse by widespread corruption among the local police, who forced him to pay bribes every time he was stopped on the street. It was his cousin who, after several attempts, convinced him to join him on the journey to Europe. Lamine says, “All of this gave me the courage to set out on this adventure to help my family.”

To cover the substantial costs of the journey, Lamine had to sell the scooter he used for deliveries. He and his cousin tried to leave twice without success, and on their third attempt—while they were already at sea—they were intercepted by the Tunisian coast guard and imprisoned in Libyan jails, which are notorious for human rights violations, including violence, torture, and rape.

Detention in Libya: Imprisonment, Torture, and the Human Cost

“These things make you tremble; they send shivers down your spine,” says Lamine. As he speaks these words, his expression changes and his voice breaks. We remain silent for a few minutes: he lowers his gaze and buries his face in his hands.

After a moment, he continues: “To get out of prison, you have to pay a large sum of money.” A month passes before he manages to raise the money needed to return to Tunisia. There, he is forced to wait several more months before setting out again for Europe, due to rough seas. Finally, a year and a half after leaving his country, he manages to set sail and spends five days at sea—an experience he prefers not to discuss. His gaze drops again. He lands on Lampedusa and, later, arrives at the Sabir center.

Lamine has just started an Italian language course and, according to his social worker, has proven himself from the very beginning to be an attentive and eager young man. During the day, he often plays soccer with the other young people at the center, with whom he has managed to form bonds despite the language barrier, communicating in part through Google Translate. He has no relatives in Europe, but he still manages to stay in touch with his family by phone. His goal now is to learn Italian and find a job so he can support his parents financially.

Between Reception and Detention: A Comparison with the CPR Model

For Lamine, arriving in Italy marked the beginning of a new life. For others, however, it represents just another stage in a journey of pain and violence, as in the case of those detained in CPRs (Repatriation Holding Centers). These centers hold adult migrants who arrived irregularly and are ineligible for asylum.

As shown in the documentary Sulla loro pelle by Marika Ikonomu, Alessandro Leone, and Simone Manda, many CPRs are described as dilapidated and inadequate facilities: run-down, overcrowded buildings with serious hygiene issues.

There have also been reports of severe shortages of qualified staff, such as cultural mediators and psychologists, difficulties in accessing legal information for detainees, and delays in paying salaries to the staff themselves. These centers are characterized by high rates of self-harm and mental distress and, above all, by a high percentage of people who are not actually repatriated. Witnessing the suffering and violence—both physical and psychological—endured by adults, teenagers, and children is deeply moving.

Among the most poignant moments of the interview are the words Lamine uses to describe his first encounter with Italy. We are nearing the end of his story when he flashes a smile and says:

“When I arrived in Italy, my left leg was hurting; I had a cramp because I’d been at sea for five days before reaching Lampedusa. They gave me something to eat, took care of me right away, and made sure I had everything I needed.”


Project created by:

Maria Giovanna Mele – Editor

Edoardo Scarano – Reporter

Miriam Troisi – Producer