Tunisian Foreign Minister Discusses Illegal Migration in Italy

Tunisian Foreign Minister Nabil Ammar during a meeting with his Italian counterpart in Rome (AP)
Tunisian Foreign Minister Nabil Ammar during a meeting with his Italian counterpart in Rome (AP)
TT

Tunisian Foreign Minister Discusses Illegal Migration in Italy

Tunisian Foreign Minister Nabil Ammar during a meeting with his Italian counterpart in Rome (AP)
Tunisian Foreign Minister Nabil Ammar during a meeting with his Italian counterpart in Rome (AP)

Tunisian Foreign Minister Nabil Ammar has discussed the worsening illegal migration crisis with several Italian officials in Rome.

Thursday's visit comes after the Italian cabinet declared a state of emergency to deal with the increasing number of irregular migrants.

Data from the Italian Ministry of the Interior indicates that about 31,300 migrants have arrived since the beginning of 2023.

The Italian Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Foreign Affairs, Antonio Taiani, said in a statement carried by Aki news agency that Rome would bring 4,000 trained Tunisian workers.

Taiani added that the goal is to "promote legal migration," adding that combating human traffickers and illegal migration is "essential for Tunisia and Italy.

He asserted that the two countries are serious about their cooperation, and the agreements still in force will be implemented.

The Tunisian Foreign Ministry announced the visit, which came at the invitation of Talani, saying it would be an occasion to discuss ways to address illegal migration according to a comprehensive approach that serves the economic interest of both countries.

It also promotes legal and circular migration and investments and helps create job opportunities for the youth.

The Tunisian coasts are witnessing a record influx of migrants, compared to previous years, towards the Italian shores in search of better opportunities.

The most significant proportion of migrants hails from sub-Saharan African countries, according to data from the Tunisian Naval Forces.

More than 28,000 migrants arrived in Italy this year, according to Italian authorities, compared to 6,900 in the same period last year.

Rome says that Tunis has become the first transit country in the region to its territory this year, ahead of Libya.

Tunisia's coastguard confirmed that it recovered 25 bodies from a shipwreck off Tunisia.

The coastguard stated that a wooden boat packed with about 110 migrants sank on Wednesday off the coast of Sfax, and it recovered the bodies of 14 migrants, including six women from African countries and one Tunisian who was the captain of the boat.

The national guard official, Houssem Eddin Jebabli, announced earlier that the bodies of ten migrants from sub-Saharan African countries had been recovered.

The Maritime Security Units in the Sousse region rescued 14 Tunisians, including five females and nine children. The Maritime Security Units in the Monastir region apprehended six Tunisians preparing for an illegal migration trip to the northern shore of the Mediterranean.

Meanwhile, the International Organization for Migration (IOM) said that 441 migrants drowned trying to cross the central Mediterranean in the first three months of 2023, the most fatalities in three months since 2017.

According to the organization's Missing Migrants Project, half of those deaths were linked to delays in state-led rescue efforts and, in one case, the absence of any rescue mission.

"Delays in State-led rescues on the Central Mediterranean route were a factor in at least six incidents this year, leading to the deaths of at least 127 people. The complete absence of response to a seventh case claimed the lives of at least 73 migrants," said the organization.

IOM Director General, António Vitorino, said the "persisting humanitarian crisis in the central Mediterranean is intolerable."

According to IOM, the 441 deaths documented in the year's first three months are likely an undercount of lives lost in the Central Mediterranean.

Over the Easter weekend, 3,000 migrants reached Italy, bringing the total number of arrivals this year to 31,192 people.



In Lebanon, a Family's Memories are Detonated Along With Their Village

Destroyed buildings lie in ruin on Lebanon’s side of the border with Israel, amid ongoing hostilities between Hezbollah and Israeli forces, as seen from Mount Addir, northern Israel, November 4, 2024. REUTERS/Violeta Santos Moura
Destroyed buildings lie in ruin on Lebanon’s side of the border with Israel, amid ongoing hostilities between Hezbollah and Israeli forces, as seen from Mount Addir, northern Israel, November 4, 2024. REUTERS/Violeta Santos Moura
TT

In Lebanon, a Family's Memories are Detonated Along With Their Village

Destroyed buildings lie in ruin on Lebanon’s side of the border with Israel, amid ongoing hostilities between Hezbollah and Israeli forces, as seen from Mount Addir, northern Israel, November 4, 2024. REUTERS/Violeta Santos Moura
Destroyed buildings lie in ruin on Lebanon’s side of the border with Israel, amid ongoing hostilities between Hezbollah and Israeli forces, as seen from Mount Addir, northern Israel, November 4, 2024. REUTERS/Violeta Santos Moura

Ayman Jaber’s memories are rooted in every corner of Mhaibib, the village in southern Lebanon he refers to as his “habibti,” the Arabic word for “beloved.” The root of the village’s name means “the lover” or “the beloved.”
Reminiscing about his childhood sweetheart, the 45-year-old avionics technician talks about how the young pair would meet in a courtyard near his uncle's house, The Associated Press said.
“I used to wait for her there to see her,” Jaber recalls with a smile. "Half of the village knew about us.”
The fond memory contrasts sharply with recent images of his hometown.
Mhaibib, perched on a hill close to the Israeli border, was leveled by a series of explosions on Oct. 16. The Israeli army released a video showing blasts ripping through the village in the Marjayoun province, razing dozens of homes to dust.
The scene has been repeated in villages across southern Lebanon since Israel launched its invasion a month ago with the stated goal of pushing Hezbollah militants back from the border. On Oct. 26, massive explosions in and around Odaisseh sparked an earthquake alert in northern Israel.
Israel says it wants to destroy a massive network of Hezbollah tunnels in the border area. But for the people who have been displaced, the attacks are also destroying a lifetime of memories.
Mhaibib had endured sporadic targeting since Hezbollah and Israeli forces began exchanging fire on Oct. 8 last year.
Jaber was living in Aramoun, just south of Beirut, before the war, and the rest of his family evacuated from Mhaibib after the border skirmishes ignited. Some of them left their possessions behind and sought refuge in Syria. Jaber's father and two sisters, Zeinab and Fatima, moved in with him.
In the living room of their temporary home, the siblings sip Arabic coffee while their father chain-smokes.
“My father breaks my heart. He is 70 years old, frail and has been waiting for over a year to return to Mhaibib,” Zeinab said. “He left his five cows there. He keeps asking, ‘Do you think they’re still alive?’”
Mhaibib was a close-knit rural village, with about 70 historic stone homes lining its narrow streets. Families grew tobacco, wheat, mulukhiyah (jute mallow) and olives, planting them each spring and waking before dawn in the summer to harvest the crops.
Hisham Younes, who runs the environmental organization Green Southerners, says generations of southerners admired Mhaibib for its one-or two-story stone homes, some built by Jaber’s grandfather and his friends.
“Detonating an entire village is a form of collective punishment and war crime. What do they gain from destroying shrines, churches and old homes?” Younes asks.
Abdelmoe’m Shucair, the mayor of neighboring Mays el Jabal, told the Associated Press that the last few dozen families living in Mhaibib fled before the Israeli destruction began, as had residents of surrounding villages.
Jaber's sisters attended school in Mays al-Jabal. That school was also destroyed in a series of massive explosions.
After finishing her studies in Beirut, Zeinab worked in a pharmacy in the neighboring village of Blida. That pharmacy, too, is gone after the Israeli military detonated part of that village. Israeli forces even bulldozed their village cemetery where generations of family members are buried.
“I don’t belong to any political group,” Zeinab says. “Why did my home, my life, have to be taken from me?”
She says she can't bring herself to watch the video of her village’s destruction. “When my brother played it, I ran from the room.”
To process what’s happening, Fatima says she closes her eyes and takes herself back to Mhaibib. She sees the sun setting, vividly painting the sky stretching over their family gatherings on the upstairs patio, framed by their mother’s flowers.
The family painstakingly expanded their home over a decade.
“It took us 10 years to add just one room,” Fatima said. “First, my dad laid the flooring, then the walls, the roof and the glass windows. My mom sold a year’s worth of homemade preserves to furnish it.” She paused. “And it was gone in an instant.”
In the midst of war, Zeinab married quietly. Now she’s six months pregnant. She had hoped to be back in Mhaibib in time for the delivery.
Her brother was born when Mhaibib and other villages in southern Lebanon were under Israeli occupation. Jaber remembers traveling from Beirut to Mhaibib, passing through Israeli checkpoints and a final crossing before entering the village.
“There were security checks and interrogations. The process used to take a full or half a day,” he says. And inside the village, they always felt like they were “under surveillance.”
His family also fled the village during the war with Israel in 2006, and when they returned they found their homes vandalized but still standing. An uncle and a grandmother were among those killed in the 34-day conflict, but a loquat tree the matriarch had planted next to their home endured.
This time, there is no home to return to and even the loquat tree is gone.
Jaber worries Israel will again set up a permanent presence in southern Lebanon and that he won't be able to reconstruct the home he built over the last six years for himself, his wife and their two sons.
“When this war ends, we’ll go back,” Ayman says quietly. “We’ll pitch tents if we have to and stay until we rebuild our houses.”