The smiles are always the same: Welde's welcomes us first, at the entrance of the house, then Tekle appears grinning with his eyes more than with his lips, we feel as though we are among friends.
It's been more than a year since the last visit, when, here, in the backyard of their house, we recorded Tekle’s voice commenting on his artwork that tell the story of a life.
Little Sesuna appears, she definitely has changed; at first she remains serious but resists very little, as soon as Marida teases her, she melts, laughing and grimacing.
The family has grown: mother Senait arrives with Behethelem, born on Christmas, and Helen, so beautiful and so shy. Only a year ago was she reunited with her husband, Welde, who had dreamed of that moment since his first day in Italy.
From there we begin to ask about their life. Tekle, Welde – Senait prefers to be on the sidelines, Helen even more so -, you have been in Italy for almost 3 years, since January 2019, enough to better understand where you have arrived, to find a sort of balance, are you happy with how your life is going?
Tekle responds seriously, "Of course, and otherwise we would not have been, given what happened in the camps. But we suffer for those who are there."
I scold myself mentally, the first question I should have asked was this: "Do you have news of your friends and loved ones who remain in the camps?" Sometimes even we, who always believe ourselves attentive, are not. It only takes one moment to confuse the priorities by applying our own.
Tekle refers to the refugee camps of Tigray, overwhelmed by a conflict whose extent is difficult to grasp from here: 50 thousand the estimated number of victims, three quarters of the 5 million inhabitants of Tigray need humanitarian aid and there is a risk that the war will spread. Mai-Aini and Adi-Arush are the only two camps left, the others no longer exist; for months it was impossible to communicate with those who were there, now it remains very difficult to do so, and can only be done from time to time. Senait's parents and Helen's parents are there, and no need to add anything else.
We talk about it a bit, then they bring the speech back to today, meanwhile the shadow remains.
Life is going well, Tekle and Welde work in the same company, with a contract of one year, at the moment; they are now autonomous, a goal which they strived for, and not a small accomplishment.
We ask them to try to project themself into the future, but Tekle does not feel it, perhaps because he knows all too well that things change quickly and we need to be ready. But they also know that they have landed in a good place for opportunities and relationships.
Welde is clear, "I love Nonantola, this is my home, and the people who have been close to us are now family".
So much so that they are also the first – as far as we know – to have taken on the role of "mentor-family" for another family, which implies awareness of what it means to need help, and responsibility.
"It's not easy," they tell us, "it's not just like being friends."
The questions fade into chatter, and of course we are invited to eat lunch. Senait and Helen had already moved silently to the kitchen.
We ask Welde what life as a couple is like, if it was difficult for Helen to fit into a world whose codes were already clear to all of them, starting with the language.
"Yes, it was not easy for her. Keep in mind that we arrived here in the pre-Covid era. I do not remember a single Saturday in our first year when we did not have lunch or dinner with other people; there was always someone's invitation. This helps a lot, to learn the language, and for everything. For her everything was different, and she is shy. But now she is doing a replacement for three weeks, cleaning three days a week; it's little but it's a start. And they are about to restart the Italian courses at the school for foreigners. It is important for her to get out of the house."
They cooked two types of pasta, one is spicy they warn us, Italian food Eritrean style… very good. Welde has to go to work, Sesuna has now become our great friend as Behethelem stands out from the high chair and participates in the conversation with all the sounds she has available.
The next day there will be a beautiful public evening. I will have the pleasure of sharing "the stage" with Tekle and his artwork, and Ibrahima Lo, a very young man who has recently written a book to tell his odyssey. We will talk about how to "tell the stories of migration", and they are two people who have understood the importance of direct testimony, and the courage to do so. It will be an honor to accompany them.
Max Hirzel
photos by Marida Augusto e Max Hirzel
