These are not the kind of posts I enjoy writing. But it would hurt me even more to pretend nothing happened.
Last night, 11:40 pm, Milano Centrale Station. While waiting for the M2 metro, a deranged North African guy steps right in front of me and aggressively demands money. I tell him I don’t have any, and out of nowhere he kicks me in the knee.
On the scale of violence it’s a small thing, but it reopened an ugly scar. A little over a year ago I was attacked from behind by two North Africans inside an M5 metro carriage and thrown to the ground: they ripped off the baptism chain I had worn my whole life.
Now in the evenings in Milan I walk around with personal defense tools. That is not normal.
Just as it is not normal that yesterday, on the platform of the main station metro, there was no one there to keep watch.
Someone might say: “you have money, take a taxi”. No, I’m not having it. Not at all.
For me, the civilization of a city is measured above all by the quality of its public services. And I always take buses and metro wherever I live. It cannot be considered a crime to do so.
I myself have been an immigrant. I’ve traveled the world, worked on 3 continents, but never have I felt so unsafe, in terms of personal physical security, as I do in Milan.
A gem in Italy as a city from a work/career point of view. But having to constantly look around, never being able to lower your guard, and jumping every time someone suddenly appears outside your field of vision… really, it’s not a nice feeling at all.
- Vincenzo Di Nicola @vincenzo on Twitter/X
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