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14 maltatoday | WEDNESDAY • 14 DECEMBER 2022 NEWS Felia Allum "I told the judge: "Dottore, I'm on the first floor. If they want to re- taliate again, they know where to find me … All the lives they've tak- en from me – they took my broth- er, they took my husband. I don't think there's anything else." Lucia has had a harsh life. A petite and elegant 80-year-old woman with piercing brown eyes that are starting to fail and a mel- ancholic smile, she lives on her own in a middle-class neighbour- hood of Naples near the Marado- na stadium. Lucia may look like your typical well-kept Neapolitan grandmother, but there is much more to her than meets the eye. She was born during the second world war into what would be- come one of Naples' more pow- erful criminal families, the only girl between two boys. Her father, like many men in the immediate post-war period, got involved in any business opportunity going to make money and survive. She denies that he was ever a mafioso, saying he was only ever looking out for others – but this is how he is described in most newspa- per articles, police and judicial reports. In the 1980s, Lucia had a prime view of the Neapolitan under- world and its devastating vio- lence. Her younger brother was an emerging Camorra member specialising in relationships with corrupt businessmen and judges. Her husband, a car dealer, secretly collaborated with his brother, an international drug trafficker and significant criminal figure. On pa- per these were respectable busi- nessmen, but in reality they were important camorristi – members of a key Camorra city clan. Then, in the early '90s, both Lu- cia's husband and younger broth- er were killed in mafia hits. She cries during our interview, which is conducted online because of COVID restrictions, especially when she talks about her brother's murder. Lucia explains that she has had to bottle up her emotions ever since: "I'll confess this to you: I have experienced great pain, great fear and great suffering. This is my whole life." Life imprisonment It is said that you can only be born into a criminal family – oth- erwise you will always be an "out- sider". While this is true of Lucia, Teresa was a complete outsider to the criminal underworld as a child. One of nine siblings, her mother was a housewife and her father worked for the municipal dairy: "My father was hard-working and my mother raised us with love and care … [They] taught us good values, to respect everyone. My father always played with us children." Yet like Lucia, Teresa also be- came a Camorra wife. This proud great-grandmother, now 68, first met her husband Giuseppe in 1968 at the age of 14. He would go on to become a capo zona (neigh- bourhood boss) for the Camorra, but in 1990 was sent to prison for life with a minimum tariff of 30 years. When I last interviewed Teresa in July 2022, she was very angry with Giuseppe, who is now back home on conditional release. She feels she has wasted her life sup- porting the Camorra and a man who has spent most of his adult life in prison. Teresa says she used to love spending time in her tiny-but-co- sy flat in a working-class district near the busy Neapolitan water- front. But over the two years that Giuseppe has been back with her, she has become scared and spends a lot of time walking around the city to avoid being at home alone with him: "I did so much for him and he answers: "No one asked you to." I spent my life and money on him and he replies: "But I made you live the good life." It is hell – he loves no one. He has become the devil." Hiding in the shadows There is another important character in this story: Naples. I am married to a Neapolitan and have a love-hate relationship with Italy's third largest city. When you walk around Naples, you don't necessarily feel or see the Camorra. Rarely do you wit- ness its business dealings or its beatings. It prefers to hide in the shadows, but there are small trac- es that become visible if you know what to look for. Walk down a street in the Span- ish quarter, for example, and if you are not a local a whistle may sound to warn Camorra colleagues that an unidentified person is walking in their direction. The criminal activities and individuals disap- pear in a second, whether to avoid possible rivals or a police bust. One lunchtime walking home, I caught a glimpse of two young- sters on a moped carrying an enormous Kalashnikov rifle as they drove up and down the streets controlling the territory. Everyone looked at the floor and the tension was palpable, but they passed without incident. Normal- ity was restored. The Camorra protects its terri- tory but it also wants to make peo- ple feel safe and gain their respect. My brother-in-law, when he lived in the city centre, once went into a bar for a coffee and in a flash, a young man had stolen his wallet. Everyone in the cafe looked con- fused – how could this happen to a local? Within five minutes, the wallet was back in my brother- in-law's hands – with the under- standing that he would not go to the police. Let's not forget that the Camorra looks out for its local community. It makes good business sense to guarantee peace and social con- sensus. A more complete picture Over the past 20 years, I have sought out the stories of women who orbit the Neapolitan crimi- nal underworld. I believe sharing their voices can help build a more complete picture of organised crime to complement the city's ju- dicial overview. Above all, I hope it can help us understand how to counter the mafia's deeply harm- ful grip on communities all over Naples and beyond. Women have traditionally been ignored and considered irrelevant in the story of the Camorra and other Italian mafias, and indeed in most organised crime groups around the world. In 2006, the Neapolitan Camorra was made famous by Roberto Saviano's ac- counts: he documented its mem- bers, structures, activities and links to politics. He even illustrat- ed some of its female protagonists, but they were always presented as the exception rather than the rule. In contrast to the rural Sicilian and Calabrian mafias, the Camor- ra has deep roots within the city of Naples. The Anti-mafia Investiga- tion Directorate (DIA) estimates there are 44 active clans in the city and a further 98 across the rest of the Campania region. In 2021 alone, they were reported to have been involved in 26 murders and 65 attempted murders. While many get distracted by the "baby gang" phenomenon – groups of children and teenag- ers forming their own criminal gangs in Naples – Camorra clans remain heavily involved in extor- tion, drugs and counterfeit goods. They have become savvy about social media and the potential for new business opportunities such as online fraud. Whenever nec- essary, they have the ear of both local and national officials. Falling in love Both Lucia and Teresa admit they fell for the wrong men. But they were not coerced or forced, despite how it might appear from the outside. Both describe com- plex relationships that were at once loving, coercive, inconsistent and contradictory. Of course, they weren't only married to their hus- bands but the mob too. Despite Teresa's love affair with Giuseppe as a teenager, he mar- ried another girl who had told him she was pregnant. Once he real- ised she was not, he came looking for Teresa again. But because he was now married, they had to run away together as their strict par- ents could not accept this irregu- lar relationship. The couple found a small base- ment flat in a nearby district and had their first child in 1974. After that Teresa's parents could not keep away. They turned up at the hospital and peace was restored when they met their new grand- daughter. Lucia's romance was more tur- bulent. Her future husband kid- napped her in 1959 when she was 17 because he "had a sick love" for her, but feared her father would never approve of him. Lucia de- fends his subsequent violence and jealousy towards her by arguing that "I was still a child for him – so I had to stay that way". After two years, they returned to Naples and in time Lucia's father accepted the relationship – but it was an agitated marriage. Lucia says she only fell in love with her husband once she had her first child: Married to the mob: what the lives of two Camorra women tell us about how to challenge the power of the mafia