“Tunisia is a beautiful country, but there’s no work”

Life in Europe does not mean Nabil has forgotten his home country, Tunisia. He has fond memories, particularly about the early days of the Jasmine Revolution. The challenging economic situation in the North-African nation, however, makes him say that he might never return.

 

By Anne Mie Ryding (edited by Sebnem Adiyaman)

Well past midnight, in an empty, dimly lit blues bar located in inner Copenhagen, an unusual group barges in. One of the people is 25-year-old Nabil*, far away from what he used to call home, Tunis. Tonight he is accompanied by three British girls and an older man with graying dreadlocks, square sunglasses, and a guitar case in his hand. Nabil takes a seat in front of the small stage, observing the impromptu jam session that has begun, along with the few people still lingering in the late hours. 

Nabil remembers Tunis, the capital city in Tunisia, where sub-Saharan migrants gather outside of the International Organization for Migrations office. It was also where violent clashes took place as the Jasmine Revolution began, back in December 2010. The uprising protested poverty, corruption and political repression in Tunisia, and inadvertently inspired a wave of civil resistance, later named the Arab Spring. 

“We made history”, Nabil says with a smile, before he takes another drag of his cigarette. It was indeed historical. After the protests began around 2011, longtime president Zine Al-Abidine Ben-Ali was forced to step down, officially ending his 23 years of power. Bringing down an authoritarian regime through the power of the people’s collective voice is certainly a point of pride for the revolution, indicative of progress in human rights in Tunisia, as well as in many other parts of the Southwest Asia and North African region where resistance took place. “Yeah, so much better in terms of human rights, but the situation got much worse financially and economically”, Nabil says. 

Today it seems the values and progress of the Jasmine Revolution are slowly being dismantled under the current president Kais Saied’s rule. Although Saied is increasingly criticized by the Tunisian population, Nabil believes he is still the lesser evil, “He’s not good, but with lots of bad people, you choose the less bad.” He lights another cigarette and goes on, reflecting on the upcoming presidential election in Tunisia, “He’s a good man. He’s trying to figure out… to figure some kind of solution for the country. I don’t think that he will make a big difference, but he’s trying.” 

Not enough jobs, not much hope

Saied was elected back in October 2019 on the promises of strangling corruption, and saving Tunisia from its economic crisis. As Nabil explains, the economic situation is mainly the reason why he left Tunisia, and did his Master’s in mechanical engineering in Germany, where he now lives. “They just fucked up everything,” he continues. “Actually, Tunisia is a beautiful country, but the political thing, there is a little bit… There are a lot of problems there. I left Tunisia because of the financial situation because there is no work. When you find work, it’s a low salary.” According to the International Labour Organization, the overall unemployment rate in Tunisia hit 15.8% in September 2023, while Tunisian youth are hit the hardest, with an unemployment rate of 38.5% for ages 15-24.

Besides the internal political unrest, Tunisia has been dealing with the influx of sub-Saharan migrants journeying to the country. Transformed into a transit country, over 12,000 migrants and asylum seekers are registered by UNHCR in Tunisia.  Nabil mentions the impact of the arrival of migrants from other parts of Africa as one of the reasons why he has left his home country. “When they came, they took low-salary jobs. For example, for an hour, it’s like €10 for one hour. It’s just an example. It’s not really €10. But they took €5 or less. That’s why, they took all the work in Tunisia..” Shaking his head, Nabil repeatedly describes the relations between Tunisians and the migrants as a “catastrophe”. 

He sheds light on a vicious cycle that has been established. With the arrival of exiles in Tunisia, a workforce cheaper than local residents is introduced. Employers take advantage of the great precariousness of people in exile to halve the salaries they would usually pay to Tunisians. As a result, the latter find themselves unemployed, since the positions are occupied by a precarious community forced to accept less favourable working conditions. This dynamic breeds numerous tensions and frustrations between Tunisians and those in exile.

Although Nabil misses his family, who still live in Tunis, he does not see himself living in Tunisia again. At least not under the current circumstances, “It’s a better future here. I love my country, but going back to live there, no, I don’t think so. Maybe with time, it’s going to change, but actually, no. I just came here”, he says with a grin. 

The bar is still full of life, with music from his newly-found companions, changing from blues to reggae. Nabil arrived in Germany just a year ago, after a strenuous journey to get his visa. “It’s like, not impossible, but… It’s bad. Hard, really hard. It took one year to get my visa to Germany. (…) Maybe it’s because of the German system: a lot of paperwork, bureaucracy, or maybe because of all of the people who want to leave Tunisia.” 

With his new life, Nabil does not hold back on experiencing the world and is traveling to Berlin, Warsaw, and Barcelona in the coming months. But no matter where he goes, one thing might never change when he thinks about home; “The people in Tunisia are so cool. They are really, really cool. I think they are the coolest. That’s not because they are my people, no. I’m just telling the truth.”

*The name has been changed to preserve the anonymity of our source.  

This article is part of the special series “Tunisia – Land of Passage”, produced by Specto Media and aidóni. Listen to the podcast here.