Several thousand protesters marched through the streets of Rome on Saturday to protest Italy's new anti-migrant laws.

Italy's new government has pursued a hard-line position on migrants, having shouldered a large burden during the influx of refugees. Most recently, leader of the far-right League Party and Deputy Prime Minister of Italy Matteo Salvini spearheaded a move to tighten asylum laws.

The so-called Salvini decree strips humanitarian protection for migrants not approved for refugee status but who cannot be deported.

Another level of protection

About 25 percent of asylum seekers have two-year humanitarian protection permits, allowing them to live in state-run reception centers and access training and educational programs and find work. The lower level of protection is based on Italian, rather than international law and protects people who fail to meet the threshold for full refugee status.

The decree does still allow for certain migrants to obtain "special" residency permits if they have serious health conditions, are victims of domestic violence, work exploitation or sex trafficking, and those who have escaped from a natural calamity in their home countries or those who have carried out heroic acts in Italy.

The decree also introduces a new procedure to fast-track the expulsion of "dangerous" asylum seekers.

Critics say the law will leave thousands of migrants homeless after they are thrown out of state-funded reception centers.

Read more: Migrant arrivals in EU set to reach 5-year low

Migrant life in Italian dystopia From dream to dystopia Conceived in the 1960s as a seaside town for the Neapolitan middle class, Castel Volturno, which stretches 27 kilometers (17 miles) along the Mediterranean, grew without any urban planning. In 1980, it became a shelter for people made homeless by an earthquake in nearby Irpinia. Subsequently tourists turned to other sea spots, and the local economy crumbled. Nowadays 30,000 rooms stand empty.

Migrant life in Italian dystopia A place called home Castel Volturno is home to about 40,000 people. Many came from sub-Saharan Africa, mostly Nigeria and Ghana. The immigrant presence dates back to the 1980s, when Africans filled the demand for manual labor in the tomato fields.

Migrant life in Italian dystopia Setting up a new economy Ester has a talent for hairdressing and makeup, so she recently opened her own salon. Due to the lack of services and economic opportunities, the African communities created their own economy, relying mainly on small shops, restaurants and mobile phone stores.

Migrant life in Italian dystopia 'I have what it takes, but I am still begging' Israel, from Nigeria, was rejected for numerous jobs due to lack of papers. After several times back and forth to the refugee commission, he was finally granted asylum until 2021. Even so, he remains unemployed. He ended up in Castel Volturno after looking for a cheap place to live.

Migrant life in Italian dystopia Organized crime territory This area has always proved fertile for the expansion of criminal organizations from the nearby cities of Naples and Caserta. On September 18, 2008, the powerful Casalesi clan shot dead six African migrants to affirm their control over the area. The victims were chosen randomly and had no connection to drug dealing, one of the crime organization's businesses.

Migrant life in Italian dystopia Connection houses Connection houses are private apartments that function as restaurants, places to gather and also brothels. African men come here to have a drink, smoke and, if they wish, have sex with prostitutes. Older Nigerian women tend to run them.

Migrant life in Italian dystopia Dreams don't come true J., 26, from Delta State in Nigeria arrived in Italy a year ago. Her dream was to complete her education in Italy, but she ended up working in a connection house in Castel Volturno. According to the International Organization for Migration (IOM), 11,000 Nigerian women arrived on Italian shores in 2016. The number fell to 5,425 in 2017, but they remain among the top nationalities to reach Italy.

Migrant life in Italian dystopia 'Somebody shouts hallejah' The last 20 years have seen a surge in the number of Pentecostal churches, most of which can be found in abandoned and run-down buildings. These days, there are around 30 churches in the Castel Volturno area.

Migrant life in Italian dystopia 'Only God will help us' Pastors celebrate in a mixture of English and Italian dialect and undertake all sorts of cures, including healings and exorcisms.

Migrant life in Italian dystopia New hope B. was trafficked to Castel Volturno in 2004. She sought help from the New Hope charity in Caserta, which provides trafficking victims with education and vocational training as tailors. Today she is a happily married and the mother of two.

Migrant life in Italian dystopia Second-generation chases opportunity Former player Massimo Antonelli founded TAM TAM Basketball as a tool of integration in a place with few facilities and social activities for adolescents. At the end of 2017, the team launched a campaign to play in the official Italian league. Parliament then passed a bill changing sporting regulations, so that all children born in Italy to immigrant parents are allowed to compete.

Migrant life in Italian dystopia Dreaming of the future Victor, 14, and Fabian, 12, have both grown up in Castel Volturno, raised by Nigerian families. Despite the many problems of their hometown, they regard it as a beautiful place. Both want to become professional basketball players, but Victor also has a flair for electronics and logistics. "I would move from here. It's nice, but there are no jobs at all," he says. Author: Valerio Muscella (Castel Volturno, Italy)



Migrants 'forced into hiding'

Protesters on Saturday donned French-style yellow vests and were organized by the USB union and the far-left Potere al Popolo (Power to the People) party. They chanted slogans slogans such as "Stop Racism" and "No Salvini."

The new law would "only increase the number of people without papers in Italy and force people underground," protester Kone Brahima, originally from Ivory Coast, told AFP news agency.

Project Rights, a collective bringing together various human rights groups, said in a statement: "First of all, we started two years ago criminalizing those who save thousands of lives at sea" and ended up "closing ports to boats loaded with survivors."

"Today with the Salvini decree, we have abolished humanitarian protection, creating an endless stream of people forced into hiding," it said in a statement.

The Italian Refugee Council has said it was "seriously concerned" by the new law.

aw/bw (dpa, AFP)