Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/1416377
10 maltatoday | SUNDAY • 3 OCTOBER 2021 OPINION Raphael Vassallo So that's why they call it the 'black market'… UNDER normal circumstances, I would probably feel compelled to apologise for such a 'racist' – on the surface, anyway – choice of headline. But let's face it: the circumstances we are living are not exactly 'normal', are they? And they haven't been normal for… oh, quite a while, really… But onto the business. You will, no doubt, have already guessed that this article is ulti- mately going to be about what happened to Jaiteh Lamin this week: you know, the 32-year- old construction worker from Gambia, who was dumped in the middle of the road (and ef- fectively left for dead) after a construction-site accident… You will also know that the 'contractor' in question – who does not appear to be regis- tered with the main trade-rep- resentative body – is now fac- ing at least 22 different charges in court: including endanger- ing Lamin's life and safety… but also, a long litany of offenc- es related to Malta's labour/ employment legislation: em- ploying people without a work permit; offering substandard wage/work conditions; not paying social security contri- butions… that sort of thing. Lastly, you will by this time surely have read, and digest- ed, all the inevitable reactions from all Malta's political par- ties, civil society groups, un- ions, employers' associations… all the way up to the President of the Republic, as it happens. And pretty much all of them said the same thing. That they were 'shocked' – or 'saddened', or 'outraged', or 'disturbed': take your pick – by the occur- rence; and that it should serve as a 'wake-up call' to embark on some kind of concerted action 'to combat racism' in the country. (Justice Minister Owen Bonnici even unveiled a government strategy to that ef- fect: but more of this later). As for my own reaction: I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just as disconcerted – disgusted, even – as everybody else… But I can hardly claim to have been 'shocked' – or even 're- motely surprised', for that mat- ter – because… well, let's just say that a revelation like this can only properly 'shock' you the first time it happens. And in my case: that initial shock came around 15, maybe 16 years ago… Which brings me back to the choice of headline. Naturally, I will leave it to you to judge whether the comment itself – which I originally heard from a Maltese taxi-driver, around 2005/6 – was 'racist', or not. But first, a bit of context. It happened on the way to the airport: a trip that inevita- bly took me through Marsa's Aldo Moro Avenue, at a time – approximately 6am – when I would normally never be an- ywhere near that place to begin with. This is, in fact, probably the only reason why I was so to- tally unprepared for what I saw. When the taxi reached the main roundabout of that thoroughfare – where Decem- ber 13th Avenue meets Albert Town, to be more precise – I was greeted by the sight of a large congregation of people, seemingly lounging about by either side of the road (and some slap-bang in the middle of it, too)… for no apparent reason. They were all male; all aged between around 17, and around early 40s; and I'm guessing they were mostly residents of the nearby Marsa Open Centre… which will also give you an in- stant idea of a few other details: such as their provenance; their general status within society; their state of material deprav- ity (many of them were bare- foot, for instance); and, not least, their skin colour. Yes, folks: they were all, without exception, 'African asylum seekers'… 'boat peo- ple'… 'irregular immigrants'… 'klandestini'… 'suwed'… take your pick. And by my count, there must have been at least 400 of them…. Looking back, of course, I re- alise it was incredibly naïve of me: but at first glance, I took it to be some kind of 'silent pro- test' or other… perhaps about the conditions of the Marsa centre itself (there was a lot about that in the news, back then); or possibly, even a reli- gious activity of some kind… Anyhow: it fell to that Mal- tese taxi-driver to explain to me – in clearly amused tones – that what I was witnessing was actually a daily (and wide- ly-known) occurrence. Those 400 or so people – 'and there are usually many more', he added – were all hoping to be the lucky ones singled out for clandestine employment that particular morning… by name- less employers who would sooner or later turn up in their vans; decide, there and then, whom to pick up, and whom to leave by the roadside… and then quietly drive the 'cho- sen ones' off to some equally nameless worksite or other: where, of course, they would all be shamelessly, and blatantly… EXPLOITED. And that, incidentally, was when the taxi-driver cracked that joke of his. Having pointed out that the practice was effec- tively a 'market' (and indeed, it is scarcely distinguishable from the slave-markets of old); and having unnecessarily laboured the point that the commodities on sale were all, without excep- tion, 'suwed'… …well, you'd probably still see that punchline coming, even if I hadn't given it away already. A new definition, perhaps, of the term 'black market'; but one which – however racist it may appear – doesn't really de- tract that much from the origi- nal meaning, either. For regardless of any racial overtones: what was happen- ing on that Marsa street corner was – and still is – blatantly il- legal. And it's the blatancy of it all – much more than the illegality – that had shocked me so much. It's not as though I wasn't vaguely aware that something called 'worker exploitation' ex- isted; and that it is inevitably also going to happen in this country, just like everywhere else in the world. But that that it would all be carried out so… openly? So un- disguisedly? So very much… in the public eye…? And on Marsa's Aldo Moro avenue, no less: you know, the road that takes you to the air- port… that connects the north of the island to the south… not to mention the one place where all companies and cor- porations (and very soon, po- litical parties) always fight to get their billboards erected… because – with the possible ex- ception of the Mrieħel Bypass – there is simply no other part of Malta's entire roadwork net- work that will give you more instant visibility, for the money you actually spend… Yet, oh look: it just so hap- pens to be the same place where all the participants in a daily, illegal 'black market' – in all the senses implied above – choose to conduct their illegal transactions. In other words: in full view of anyone who happens to be driving past… a category which could (and cer- tainly does, every day) include the police… Call me naïve: but I have to admit, that did take me by surprise (and still does, to be honest). For let's face it: if we were talking almost about any other illegal activity you care to name – for want of a better ex- ample: let's say, drug-traffick- ing – well, you'd hardly expect to drive through one of Malta's busiest streets, and witness 'packages of cocaine' being cas- ually unloaded from the back of a parked van, to be sold to the highest bidder – right there and then – just like vegetables at the Pitkalija…? (And it's just as well, because