Shengjin, AlbàniaThe fences surrounding the Gjadër refugee detention center do not have cameras. Only two Albanian policemen wait at the gates and allow several trucks with construction materials to enter. The surroundings are quiet, a couple of residents of this rural area in northern Albania stroll along the gravel lanes. As long as the pictures are taken from outside, the police have no problem with the group of reporters climbing the hill adjacent to the center to get a better perspective.
We are at the gates of repatriation center from Italy to Albania, almost opened. Almost because, although last week sixteen people were rescued by the Italian rescue forces and transferred to Albania following the guidelines of the so-called Albania-Italy agreementathe same Italian justice ruled that “they cannot be returned to their countries of origin – Bangladesh and Egypt – because it does not consider them safe enough”. A sentence that has caused the detention centers to remain empty.
The settlement of Gjadër is about sixty kilometers from Tirana, but the center is far from any urban center; only a few private houses can be seen meters away. This evidences the intention to isolate the people Italy intends to lock up there while their asylum applications are processed.
No cameras, no flags, no movement inside. Only the two Albanian policemen guarding the door, who could not enter because the entire space occupied by this “prison for migrants” is Italian territory. There are also no cameras recording the surroundings: Italy cannot film Albanian territory, and that is why the cameras are arranged inside. Gresa Hasa, an Albanian journalist who has followed the agreement since the announcement, explains to ARA that “[l’acord] entails a violation of Albania’s sovereignty. It should be pointed out that the last time Italy obtained this extraterritoriality was during the Italian colonization of Albania under Mussolini’s regime. It is something historical and symbolic, and it shows that Italy continues to have a neo-colonial approach towards Albania”.
This is even more evident in Shëngjin, a port city of about 6,000 inhabitants, located about twenty kilometers from Gjadër. In its industrial port is the reception center where Italy will transfer the people it rescues before being transferred to the center of Gjadër. At the Shëngjin site, the Italian flag is flying alongside the EU flag. At the entrance to the industrial port the guard forbids crossing convinced: “This is Italy. I can’t let you pass and please respect that,” he says in Italian.
Sander Marashi, director of the port of Shëngjin, whom we contact to obtain permits to enter, repeats the same mantra: “Right now with the Italians here, I can’t let you through.”
Right in front of the port a small hotel with three floors, it does allow access to the roof from which you can see the interior of this center where, as in Gjadër, the only movement comes from the Italian workers.
From holiday paradise to migrant refuge
Shëngjin is primarily a holiday town, known for its large sand dunes. This explains why it is so quiet at this time of year, practically all the businesses are closed. However, walking through the streets, the number of people they carry attracts attention shalwar —traditional Afghan clothing—.
At the Hotel Rafaelo, right on the seafront, thousands of Afghan families have been waiting for months for confirmation of their asylum applications. The first arrived in 2021 and were supposed to receive asylum in the United States or Canada. “We’ve been waiting for six months,” said Anbar, a 55-year-old man who worked “for the US ID company in Afghanistan.” Nearly a thousand Afghans waiting at the Rafaelo Hotel are under the Special Immigrant Visa (SIV) program for Afghans who have served in the US government or US-led NATO forces in Afghanistan for at least a year.
For many families staying at Rafaelo, the process takes more than a year. “There are many problems here. My daughters can’t study, they couldn’t study because of the Taliban there, and now they can’t study here either,” complains the man. Like him, thousands of Afghans continue to wait at the Rafaelo Hotel. Some arrived two weeks ago like Suliman [nom fictici]an industrial engineer who worked “for the US mission in Afghanistan” and who says his asylum application has already been approved and expects to travel to America in the coming weeks. Others, like Anbar, have been waiting for months and still don’t know how much longer they will have to wait.
One kilometer separates the Hotel Rafaelo from the reception center Italian just opened. Among them is a graffiti thanking Albania for hosting them almost three years ago. A reception that not only lasts for years, but it seems that it will continue to trap refugees in this small town in the north of Albania.
