OPERATION ORANGE

Our Church of Scotland missionary in Italy, Fiona Kendall,  together with our Faith Impact forum initiated this project. 4 pallets of oranges were shipped to Scotland  and East Sutherland Churches ordered 21 crates from the pallet delivered to Cullen.( 9 of these in the Kyle of Sutherland Churches)  Individuals gifted their crate to local food banks and others distributed them among their congregation and friends with the story behind their arrival in our villages and Ibrahim’s poem.

Many people helped this happen and many more enjoyed the oranges!!

 

 

The story

 

Operation Orange. Direct support and disrupting exploitation of migrants in Calabria.

 

Mediterranean Hope (MH), The Federation of Italian Protestant Church’s (FCEI) refugee and migrant programme, has a base in Calabria, a fertile region facing the twin challenges of poverty and organised crime. MH projects support migrants who toil in the region’s fruit fields, the overarching objective being to break the cycle of exploitation.

 

One key partnership is with local cooperative SOS Rosarno, which has created an ethical supply chain through its commercial enterprise, Mani e Terra. This binds local producers to a code of practice, guarantees workers a decent wage and assures buyers of excellent, fairly-traded products bearing the brand “ETIKA”. A proportion of the price paid is ploughed back into social projects, with 10% going to Mediterranean Hope.

 

Ibrahim’s Poem

 

Ibrahim has been writing poetry since he was a child. Through poetry, he expresses his deepest joy and pain. In 2020 his first book of poetry, “Yen Fehi, Bako” was published. “Ibrahim’s Tears” is taken from that book. He has generously shared here one of his poems with those of us who have bought oranges.

 

Ibrahim’s Tears

 

I weep when I see my brothers suffer.

 

I weep when I wake at 4.00am to go to meet my illusions in the orange and mandarin plantations for the modest sum of €25 – if not less.

 

I weep when I see my brothers, who live in the shanty towns without water and without electricity, in situations which are almost impossible, unacceptable for humanity.

 

I weep and my heart is sore.

 

I weep and I suffer; I have neither physical injury nor clinical illness but, nonetheless, I suffer and I weep; I weep because we are victims of the colour of our skin here and everywhere else.

 

I weep when I see my Italian brothers close the doors of their hearts – and their houses – to us.

 

I weep when I think that I have left my family and those who are dear to me for an integration which does not happen at all.

 

I weep; my tears do not flow, and yet I weep.

 

I suffer within my skin, wounds everywhere, around me the spectre of desolation.

 

I weep for the living conditions of my brothers, African and non-African, from here and elsewhere.

 

I weep, I weep and I will continue to weep until there is justice and equity in the world.

 

I weep and I am ashamed when I see my African brothers exploited by other African brothers. I weep when I see the cowardly murder of my brothers on the pavement as they do their work because of the colour of their skin.

 

This is racism, fascism.

 

I weep.

 

I am ashamed when I see my white and black brothers Look askance at each other.

 

I am bleeding from everywhere, for life around me Is far from rosy.

 

My eyes are tearful when we abandon those who strive for justice and liberty.

 

And, as my tears stream, I look the world in the face in the hope that tomorrow will be better, if the hypocritical pride of some – and of others – crumbles. I weep for the world and a system which does not value a human being.

 

My tears do not flow and yet I weep.

 

Ibrahim Diabate, MH Staff Member

 

(Translated by Fiona Kendall)