Hospitality Area

I was born in Niono, Mali.

My parents died when I was a child. I grew up in my aunt's house, and when she died too, I decided that I would not stay there, waiting to die as well. The journey to Italy was long, difficult, and dangerous. When I arrived in Trieste, I was scared, exhausted, and without hope.

I met Marco at the Sant'Anastasio Shelter. I didn't understand Italian, and no one except him spoke a bit of French. He stayed with me while I ate dinner, keeping me company and telling me about the Bora wind howling outside the windows. I told him I was cold, and he smiled, apologized, and ran off. I thought he had left, tired of being near a stranger from the other side of the world who was hard to talk to and wanted to go home to his family. But when he returned with a blanket for me, I cried.

It was Marco who explained to me what Caritas Diocesana Trieste was and that other people like him could help me not only have a place to sleep and a hot meal but also to rebuild a life and find a place in the world where I could finally feel at home. When we said goodbye, for the first time in months, I felt that perhaps, somewhere, there was still a bit of hope.

Whenever I can, I always go to lend a hand at the Sant'Anastasio Shelter, which being a night shelter, fits well with my work hours. It's an incredible place, a crossroads of people and stories that sometimes break your heart.

Of Amara, I remember her downcast eyes and slumped shoulders while she ate and how I felt stupidly embarrassed by the slowness with which I spoke to her in French after years since I last tried. There was a great bora that night, and for some reason, it seemed very important to me to tell her about the difference between the clear bora and the dark bora. When she interrupted me, saying she was cold, I felt so foolish that I could only apologize and run to get her a blanket. I didn't think she would start crying, though…!

I know that the next day she was welcomed by the social services of Caritas Diocesana Trieste, who provided her with specific assistance and supported her as she slowly began her reintegration process. Trieste is not an easy city, but I was told that Amara and her strong character have held their ground, so to speak. I believe she is now doing an internship aimed at job placement, and it's going very well.

I've bumped into her a few times on the street, in the city. I don't know if she remembers me, but when I saw that she had her head held high and her back straight, I was really happy for her and once again reminded of why it's so important to donate a few hours of my time to help those who are not as fortunate as I am.