KASSERINE, Tunisia (AP) – In his old life, Hosni Kalaia remembers walking the streets of his hometown, Kasserine, in central Tunisia, with confidence. He flashed his heavy bracelets and gold rings, and blew his chest, wide and sculpted from the usual workouts.
Today, Kalaia hides the face of the world behind dark sunglasses and under a wool hat. In the left hand, three fingers blackened and nourished by a glove protrude; to his right, he has none.
He lost them in the few seconds it took him to disfigure his life forever, when, angry and distressed by the abuses and injustices he had suffered at the hands of a local police chief, Kalaia got wet with gasoline and he fell.
He is among hundreds of Tunisians who have resorted to the desperate act of self-immolation in the last ten years, following the example of Mohammed Bouazizi, a 26-year-old fruit seller in the city of Sidi Bouzid who caught fire in December . 17 of 2010, to protest against police harassment.
Bouazizi’s terrible war inadvertently sparked mass demonstrations against poverty and repression, which led to the fall of the Tunisian dictator for 23 years. In turn, this sparked the Arab Spring riots and a decade of repression and civil wars throughout the region.
“I would never describe the act of self-immolation as an act of courage because not even the bravest person in the world could do it,” Kalaia, 49, told The Associated Press at his home. “When I poured petrol on my head, I didn’t think much, because I wasn’t aware of what I was doing. Then I saw a flash, I felt my skin start to burn and I fell. I woke up eight months later in the hospital.
He says it hasn’t been easier to see the shock in people’s faces when he takes off his hat and sunglasses. Streams of scars rupture and rupture through the malformed face and ears, and there are deep livid tips in the arms and stomach.
His little brother also caught fire and killed himself, and his mother tried to do the same, his family graphically remembering the chaos and economic turmoil of this North African nation.
Everywhere in the Arab world, the dreams of protesters have been shattered. Tunisia is often considered a success story and a Tunisian democratic group won the 2015 Nobel Peace Prize, however, despite having more civil liberties, freedom of expression and political plurality, the country is being hit by an economic crisis that is getting worse and worse.
The lack of socio-economic reforms, the devaluation of the Tunisian dinar and weak and inefficient governance have failed to alleviate poverty or completely reactivate investment. Amid the COVID-19 pandemic, unemployment has risen to 18%. Attempts to migrate to Europe by sea have skyrocketed.
“There is a huge gap between people’s aspirations and their means. It is this gap that pushes people more towards misery, “said Abdessater Sahbani, a sociologist at the University of Tunis.” You can have a good job and be well educated, but it doesn’t give you anything substantial. “
The number of self-immolations has tripled since 2011 and “the increase has persisted until 2020,” said Dr. Mehdi Ben Khelil of Charles Nicolle Hospital in Tunis, who is studying the phenomenon.
After the revolution, Ben Khelil said: “There was a contrast between what we expected and what we gained. Disappointment continued to grow. “
Although there are no official statistics, the Tunisian Social Observatory of the Tunisian Economic and Social Rights Forum recorded 62 such suicides or attempts during the first ten months of 2020.
Most occur near local governments or government buildings to protest financial insecurity and suffering, said Najla Arfa, the observatory’s project manager. Police abuse is often a trigger.
The vast majority are working-class men between the ages of twenty and thirty, living in disadvantaged inland areas such as Kairouan and Sidi Bouzid. Of 13 survivors contacted by AP, all said they needed financial help.
In the decade since Bouazizi’s suicide, little has changed in his hometown, Sidi Bouzid. Coupled young unemployed people sitting on smoking chains in plastic chairs in cafes. Others line up to buy cans of cooking gas after a strike disrupted supplies and forced people to use firewood.
With monuments in his memory, the city has become a sanctuary of Bouazizi, whose life resembles that of millions of other Tunisians. But not everyone views their legacy positively.
“His act had a negative effect across the country and especially for Sidi Bouzid,” says Marwa Hamdouni, a 30-year-old assistant accountant. “I think only his family benefited. But for the government of Sidi Bouzid, the revolution did not bring anything good.
In 2013, Bouazizi’s family moved to Montreal. Experts say his family’s accounts that he earned financially with his death spawned other suicides, especially right after the revolution.
Ben Khelil, the doctor, says the reasons go further: “Behind the sacrifice, there is a desire to express his words and his suffering. For some people, the desire is not to die but to be heard.
Survivors face major psychological, physical, and financial challenges.
“Some scars can heal poorly and can hinder certain functions such as sitting, chewing and expressing facial emotions,” says Ben Khelil. “There can be a lot of persistent pain, especially when the scars are deep and touch the nerves.”
Kalaia spent three years in a hospital and then in a private clinic recovering from her burns. He cannot contain a bottle of water, get dressed without help, or fall asleep without medication. His arms are still full of infections.
“I won’t tell you I’m sorry to wake up, but dying would have been better,” Kalaia says, dragging a cigarette. “Today, I don’t think about killing myself again, but I ask God for death because I’m very tired.”
The Qur’an forbids suicide and many Muslim societies consider it taboo. This does not stop hundreds of Tunisians from trying every year.
In 2014, Kalaia’s mother, Zina Sehi, now 68, tried to burn herself in front of the president’s palace in Tunis, protesting the government’s lack of support for the family. The following year, his brother Saber, 35, did the same, dying instantly. Kalaia is to blame for his actions.
The government set up a committee to prevent such suicides in 2015, but political turmoil has led to a number of short-term governments taking drastic measures to help survivors or their families.
“Do you see what this state did for me? It’s the state that left me in that corner, “Kalaia says, pointing to a mattress on the floor of the house where she sleeps.” It’s over, my life is over. “