Once a week or so, after night falls, about 30 or more young Tunisians set off on foot from the town of Diyar al Hajjaj towards a nearby beach.
They skirt a drying-up lagoon, home to a shrinking flamingo population, and cram on to a small inflatable boat, keeping an eye out for police patrols. Their destination – if they can give the coastguard the slip and survive the dark waters of the Mediterranean – is the Italian island of Pantelleria, about 28 miles away.
Diyar al Hajjaj’s population has halved in less than two years. One day it might disappear from maps altogether, said 36-year-old Saber Ben Saleh.
“Let it be, let it be over,” he said. “Either our village becomes a ghost or we will become ghosts.”
Ben Saleh said he has tried – and failed – three times in three months to reach Europe. On each occasion he was intercepted by the Tunisian coastguard and returned home. He knows people from Diyar al Hajjaj who have attempted the journey dozens of times, some making it to Italian soil only to be repatriated.
Undeterred, villagers return to the beach, stealing cows to pay for the “ticket” in the absence of employment opportunities.
In 2022, about 15,500 Tunisians reached the Italian coast, according to one advocacy group, the Tunisian Forum for Economic and Social Rights. Tunisians are the second-most represented nationality among asylum seekers arriving in Italy, making up more than 17% of arrivals last year.
Most of the Tunisians who arrive on Pantelleria or Lampedusa are transferred to Sicily, registered, and then sent back to Tunisia on direct flights from Palermo to Tunis. Only a small percentage slip through the cracks and reach France – Tunisia’s former colonial ruler – or remain in Italy working illegally.
The streets of Diyar al Hajjaj, lined with dilapidated two-story houses, were practically deserted. In a local bar, men gathered to drink coffee, smoke, chat, and watch old French films. All were unemployed.
“Even when you work, your salary is nothing,” Ben Saleh said. “Thirty dinars [roughly £8 or just under €9], you can’t buy anything. We have no future here. If you work in Europe, you have your rights. Here, nothing. Tunisia is a country of corruption. In Europe, there is a healthcare system, and it’s clean. To do an X-ray in Tunisia, you need to sell your house.”
Tunisia is facing multiple, interlinking crises. The government has failed to secure an international bailout to help the tanking economy. Living standards have dropped owing to rising prices and low wages, and the youth unemployment rate, which began to fall from a peak of above 40% in 2021, is rising again.
Meanwhile, the president, Kais Saied, has implemented a comprehensive crackdown on political opponents and refugees from sub-Saharan Africa since his sweeping power grab two years ago.
“The Tunisian population is very much feeling the brunt of the economic hardships that the country is undergoing, and that have only gotten worse since the revolution in 2011,” said Valentina Zagaria, an anthropologist based in Tunis and a research associate at the University of Manchester.
“Inflation is huge – even just over the summer, life has become so expensive that many struggle to buy basic things like fruit. There have also been serious bread shortages, which for many families is a staple. For many people, therefore, the main concern is how to make ends meet – all other worries linked to the shrinking of freedoms and ever more authoritarian measures seem somewhat secondary.”
Mohamed Arroum, 37, lives with his brother in his parents’ house in Diyar al Hajjaj. Another brother managed to reach Europe and is in Nice. Arroum has made two attempts to cross the Mediterranean – on both occasions he was intercepted by the Tunisian coastguard.
“I would do anything to go to Europe, and I am willing to steal cows,” he said. “Europeans are living in luxury; here, we are dying. I am willing to work anywhere and do anything, construction, agriculture, anything. Here, I can’t even afford to marry someone and sometimes to eat.”
Romdhane Ben Amor, who works for FTDES, a rights NGO, said Tunisia’s economic crisis was affecting the entire population, regardless of educational background or skills. “Increasing number of children, women, families, and graduates are seeking to migrate. Some of them may not be in dire economic circumstances, but due to political reasons and a lack of hope, many Tunisians no longer believe that the country will recover from this difficult period.”
Water rationing has been introduced after four years of a severe drought, which has dried up reservoirs and made a bad situation even worse for many people. “Our water has become salty, and people can’t make money from their land any more,” said Sleh Ben Ali, 47.
The cost of reaching Europe illegally is about 5,000-6,000 Tunisian dinars (£1,300-£1,600), paid in cash to the smugglers. But it is not an easy or safe journey. Aid groups believe hundreds – if not thousands – of Tunisians have died in the Mediterranean trying to reach Europe. “Even now, sometimes you find bodies on our beach,” Ben Ali said.
Reda, 65, is one of the hundreds of Tunisian women who has lost a child who was attempting to reach Europe. Born and raised in Diyar al Hajjaj, she has seen the village empty out in recent years, although, she says, the exodus had already begun before the 2011 revolution. Three of her sons live in Europe; the fourth drowned in the Mediterranean in 2009.
“The first time he left was in 2008 and he found work in Sicily,” Reda said tearfully. “He was very happy. He worked as a farmer, but he didn’t have a regular contract, so when the police stopped him, they sent him back. He tried to leave again less than a year after his repatriation. But this time, he never arrived.
“It’s tough to live alone here. I haven’t attended a single wedding of my sons. But I understand them. Here, we have a problem even finding bread every day.”
Despite the risks, the inhabitants Diyar al Hajjaj see no alternative but to leave.
“We are already dead here,” said Ben Saleh. “I will try again soon to cross the sea. But this time, I want to take my wife and my son. If we are going to die, we are going to die. If it’s the end … well … it’s God’s will.”
