Unicef was granted access to two of these refugee shelters. One was on a former American military base just outside of Mineo, in Sicily’s hinterlands. Flanked by wheat fields and orange groves, and patrolled by armed guards, the Mineo camp holds more than 3,000 asylum seekers, and many residents have lived there for longer than a year. Built to emulate an American suburb, neat grids of streets are lined with identical houses, once occupied by servicemen and their families. Now there’s a Senegalese street where used clothes are sold. The Eritreans live by the barbed wire fence with a view of the mountains. The Nigerians, maybe by sheer power of numbers, took the main street. Kids play with broken vacuum cleaners and discarded suitcases while teenagers listen to music in driveways.

We were accompanied by an employee of the camp’s management company, and our movements were surveyed — supposedly for the protection of the people living there. We were instructed not to photograph faces, structures or interiors. At times, we were prevented from talking to refugees unless a minder was present. And yet many of these refugees are adults, who ought to have the right to tell their stories.

The state is having an especially hard time taking care of all of the kids traveling alone. Many do not go to school or have much of anything to do as they wait for a decision on their asylum status.