Father Maurizio Patriciello is late. “I’m waiting for my bodyguard,” he said in a text message.
He is neither famous nor a politician, but the parish priest of Caivano, a rough, crime-ridden town on the outskirts of Naples. He has been living under police protection since a bomb exploded on the church gate with a message saying “Get out.”
The threat was the Camorra’s response to Patriciello’s constant fight against a mafia organization illegally dumping toxic waste on farmland in southern Italy’s Campania region.
Despite the threats, Patriciello did not give in. Instead, until last summer, it stuck to its mission of fighting crime and delinquency in poor communities long ignored by the state.
Eventually, Patriciello arrives at the church of San Paolo Apostolo with two bodyguards and takes a seat in a pew next to an altar decorated with a giant nativity scene. He nervously recounts his life in Caivano, where some of the parishioners unwittingly became drug mules for the mafia.
“They get paid 50 euros for delivering a package, and their response is always, ‘This is how my kids eat,’” he says. “These abandoned areas are Banlieue Paris – intentionally planned and desired. It’s a way to keep the poor away. Ghettos are then formed, closed societies with their own languages, their own ways of survival, and their own underground economies. Unless something serious happens, the state will ignore it. Something bad happened in Caivano and the state took notice. ”
Caivano, founded in 1980 as a temporary home for thousands of people left homeless by the devastating Irpinia earthquake, was attacked in August by repeated gang rapes of two girls, aged 9 and 11. He attracted attention for his suspicions.
The girls, who are cousins, were allegedly abused by a group of 15 people, 13 of whom were boys. Two of the suspects are sons of alleged mafia bosses. Some of the alleged rapes took place in an abandoned sports complex in Parco Verde, an area of Caivano considered to be one of the busiest drug-trafficking areas in Europe. The crime is said to have continued for several months and only came to light after a video of the rape was shared online and eventually reported to the police.
“The girls weren’t raped by a pedophile in their 50s. They were raped by a group of boys, kids just like themselves… and it wasn’t just one time, this violence continued over months. It continued,” Patriciello said.
At the risk of incurring the wrath of the criminal gangs that control the neighborhood, the priest once again stuck his head over the parapet and wrote a letter to Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni.
Four days later, Meloni visited Caivano and launched a police operation involving several hundred police officers. Police searched hideouts where drugs, money and weapons linked to the Camorra were hidden, including an illegal puppy farm and an apartment with cages filled with exotic animals.
The effort was the first step in what Meloni described as the right-wing government’s quest to “make the people feel like a nation.”
“I was really surprised by her quick reaction,” Patriciello says. “I met you [the former prime ministers] The difference with Meloni, like Matteo Renzi and Giuseppe Conte, is that she takes the situation seriously. ”
Caivano has since become a template for the Italian government’s commitment to relief neighborhoods long exposed to poverty. The number of police in the town has increased significantly, and three safety commissioners have been tasked with overseeing the area’s reconstruction. The local council was dissolved and 18 people were arrested on suspicion of infiltrating the mafia and corruption. Efforts to revive the sports center began after the government secured €30m (£25m) in funding.
A controversial law named after Caivano was also passed, making it easier to arrest and imprison children as young as 14. Ellie Schlein, leader of the center-left opposition Democratic Party, criticized the law for focusing too much on “repression.” And prevention is not enough.
Patriciello said he’s impressed by Meloni’s approach and apparent dedication, but said much more needs to be done than putting police on the streets.
“Not even a pack of drugs is being traded because the streets are heavily patrolled,” he said. “But this alone is not enough to solve the problems here. Social services, for example, exist on paper, but in practice there is not much. We have three social workers, but in such a vast A complex location requires at least 20 people.
Another major issue that concerns Caivano is the high number of deaths from cancer. The town is in the heart of the so-called “Land of Fire,” an area of Campania where the mafia dumped and burned toxic waste. In early 2021, Italy’s Institute of Higher Health confirmed the link between toxic waste and high cancer rates. Although the fire has been brought under control, Patriciello said the long-term effects on the community’s health will be significant.
“The last few funerals I’ve been to, including my nephew’s, were all deaths from tumors,” he says. Patriciello’s sister-in-law also died of cancer last year. “Recently, I was at a funeral for a woman, and her daughter was sitting in the front seat wearing a scarf. I looked at the casket and realized that in a year’s time, I would also be attending her daughter’s funeral. I was sure it would happen. She passed away the other day.”
The priest said good things are happening at Caivano as well, such as the recent graduation of a sociology student. However, the fact that this became news speaks volumes about the current state of local education. “It may be normal for girls in Milan or Venice, but it’s not for us. But when something good happens here, it’s worth a thousand times more than it happens anywhere else.”
Mafia groups typically retreat when their strongholds become more secure, and families wait for the state to shift their focus elsewhere before resuming their operations.
Although Caivano’s problems run deep, Patriciello is hopeful that the events of recent months could lead to a brighter future.
“Caivano has become an icon,” he says. “But it could now also serve as a guide for all of Italy’s marginalized communities.”