Riots in France: We are nothing to politicians

Image captionAmin Kessatsi was 17 years old when his brother was murdered in one of Marseille's most famous neighborhoods. Amin was 17 years old when the body of his burned brother was recovered from the burning car. "Unfortunately, my brother got into drugs early on," he says, his face impassive as he glances around at the shabby high-rises surrounding us.

We sit and talk about his brother, who was a drug dealer before his murder, in one of Marseille's most notorious neighborhoods. Amin, now 19, grew up here on the Fre-Vallon housing estate, a huge and deprived social housing estate in the north of the city that is plagued by gang and drug crime. Not far from here a few young men are loafing on the wall. In full view of daylight, drug dealers operate openly. Amin says that for kids who grew up here with no money or prospects, drug dealing is a tempting choice. "There are no other options here. There are no companies that come in here and say we're going to pay you more than minimum wage ... here people work as cashiers in supermarkets, cleaners or security guards. We cannot be judges, lawyers or accountants. "

Not surprised by the latest riots, which have been particularly strong in Marseille, Amin confirms. Businesses here, including a gun store owner, were robbed and looted, and a 27-year-old man was killed. Prosecutors say the man who died was struck in the chest by a rubber bullet police call a "flashball." He is believed to have suffered a heart attack, but the circumstances are unclear. The riots followed protests over the death of 17-year-old Nahel M in Paris at the hands of police. "We are always in the same trouble, the same poverty, and nothing will change," Amin says, "so I understand the anger of the youth. I don't condone violence, but I understand them. "

The riots and their aftermath showed the depth of anger, frustration and alienation felt by so many French citizens. We met Mado, a middle-aged woman living on an apartment complex next to what used to be the community police station. It was a physical link between them and the French state; its decline threateningly symbolized the growing alienation. "Living here is like living in a dump," Mado says. - It's not safe.

But no one perhaps realizes more clearly the deep divisions in French society and their consequences than Amin. He now works to divert young people on the apartment complex away from crime, but also supports the families of those who have paid with their lives. There were 31 drug-related murders in Marseille last year. There have already been 23 such murders this year. Two-thirds of the victims were under the age of 30. French authorities recognized both the tragedy and the problem. Two years ago, President Emmanuel Macron promised to fix Marseille. He announced a €5 billion plan to tackle crime and deprivation in the city. He returned to the southern port city just before the riots to reaffirm his commitment. "Things must move faster," President Macron said at the start of a three-day trip during which he visited regeneration sites including a police station, a school, a prison and a hospital. But Amin, who has met him twice, has lost faith. "When Macron comes, he comes to make statements, not to listen to us. "

Even Marseille's mayor Benoit Payan admits he needs to unite his city. "For too long, my city has been divided between the poor and the not-poor. Between those who are recognized by state authorities and those who are not." It must be a fundamental French value. But here, equality has become an ambition.