Second Summer Camp in Pescopagano and Castel Volturno

We listened to a prison officer, a city councillor, cultural mediators, and women who have experienced human trafficking first-hand. We listened to those who were there when Don Peppe Diana was murdered and refused to stay silent.

And gradually, we realized we were not just listening to different stories. We were looking at different facets of the same problem. A territory where the State has been absent for far too long. Where organized crime has taken over every available space. Where the Camorra has become an integral part of the landscape.

And then comes the anger. An anger that is hard to contain. Because behind the words “degradation,” “immigration,” “crime,” and “suburbs” there are people. People who are afraid. People who are exploited, who are dying. People who are simply trying to survive.

And there was something else that frightened us even more: seeing just how far human cruelty can go when it no longer recognizes any limits.

But Castel Volturno and the surrounding areas are not just this. Thank goodness! Because right in the midst of all this, there are people who have chosen to stay. To refuse to stay silent. To listen. To welcome others. To fight back.

The Comboni Missionaries and everyone who works with them do something truly remarkable every day: they keep a door open where so many others have stopped even looking. And they do it without asking where you come from, what God you pray to, or if you pray to anyone at all.

They simply welcome you.

And this week, we met some wonderful people. We had dinner with the Ghanaian community, and then we welcomed them to our parish in return to celebrate the Assumption. We took part in the first Arte Migrante gathering, where people from diverse backgrounds and cultures sat in a circle sharing music, songs, and stories. We cleaned up trash on the beach. We lent a hand at the parish, doing odd jobs and whatever else was needed.

Small things, perhaps. But this is also how a community is built: by making ourselves available, sharing, listening, and working together.

We are taking home the realization of just how devastating evil can be, but also that good, when it is steadfast, tangible, and practiced daily, can become a form of resistance.

And perhaps this is precisely where we must begin again: with people, and with their capacity to be present and to never give up.

The members of the Second Summer Camp in Pescopagano and Castel Volturno: Sara from Mantua, Tommaso from Bologna, Silvia from Turin, Simona and Giulia from Parma, Giovanni, Margherita, Anna, and Salvatore from the Val d’Arno