Samsiatou Housseni Aboubacari Djarra, Shamsy
I was born in Benin in 1998 . My mother and I came to Italy through family reunification by my father in 2009.
We joined him on 25 December. I was nine years old and immediately after the Christmas holidays I was able to start school. Three days later I celebrated my first birthday in Italy. I had turned ten and it was unforgettable.
Djougou
Cotonou
Shamsy driving a bumper car at the town fair. Picture from private family archive
Shamsy in front of the family car. Picture from private family archive
Accra
Here you have my classmates at the Arab School I was attending in Accra
Shamsy and her classmates at the Arabic school in Accra. Picture from private family archive
My family
I am very close to my family.
Unfortunately, my father died in 2016 and I was left alone with my mother. My brothers live one in Canada and two in Ghana.
Shamsy and two of her siblings. Picture from family archive.
Personal picture from family archive
Arriving in Rome
I was looking through the windows of the plane and saw everything white and didn’t understand what it was.
I learnt soon afterwards when I felt the great cold that came over me. Luckily my uncle, who had picked us up at the airport, had imagined that we would not be prepared and showed up with a mountain of jumpers and winter jackets. I would never have made the train journey to Bologna without that kindness.
Aerial view of a snowy Rome
Bologna
My mum and I made the train journey.
I still couldn’t get over the fact that everything was so white and so cold.
Shamsy’s mother. Picture from a family archive
Muffa
Since 2009, we have lived in Moulda, which has remained in my heart: I have an Italian grandmother there and I became fond of a neighbour. She was my grandmother because she took care of me a lot. We loved each other so much that from one day to the next we started calling each other grandmother and granddaughter.
Behind the house, about a 10-minute walk away, there are sports fields for basketball, five-a-side football, swings, etc. I often went there with my friend and her dog whose name I can’t remember now.
I understood practically nothing of Italian. In fact I came from two countries where Italian is not spoken, but I knew other languages. For example English because we lived in Ghana before coming here, and then a little French because I was born in Benin, and other African languages.
Public garden in Muffa (Bologna)
“Cursed” crossing
One of the most difficult things I had to learn was to use the crossroads next to the Mouldy train station.
It must have taken me months to work out which road led where. They all looked the same to me, seemed too many, maybe some even useless.
Once I got so nervous that I stopped in the middle of it and waited for my anger to pass.
Now they have closed a couple of junctions, but it was really a nightmare for me at the beginning.
Pictures taken at the center of a quite complicated crossing active at Shamsy arrival in Muffa (Bologna)
Calcara
After a few years we moved first to Crespellano where, unlike Muffa, there were all the services and the hospital next door; then to Calcara, where I still live.
Now it is mine, our home.
And I thought that a cooking tool represents the idea of home well because it can unite all your homes.
This is called ‘assanca’ and is a kind of mortar. With this you pound fresh chilli, tomato and salt to make Moyo sauce, a sauce that usually goes with fried fish.
Picture of assanca, a traditional cooking instrument.
Calcara, everyday life
Bologna 2022
Starting from the traumatic experiences of those who suffered in Monte Sole to listen to the close memories and distant tales that migrants bring with them.
Go to Cornelia’s account and explore her story.
