Why is it so Hard to be Tunisian?
I’ve struggled to write about this because it meant confronting the dark thoughts haunting me for the past three months. Let’s back up to January of this year… Tunisia’s economy was a mess, political instability became the norm, standards of life were at their lowest, and corruption was still wreaking havoc and tearing the country apart. Amidst all of that, I was full of hope. I focused on the big picture and believed we would get through this rough patch.
At that point, many people around me disagreed and were constantly annoyed or surprised by my abundant perky attitude toward our country’s future. I always enjoyed my arguments with them, defending Tunisia with all my might. You’re probably waiting for the “but” part, so bear with me for a little more time. Despite everything going on and for an unknown reason, I kept that spark alive for as long as I could. After all, it was the fuel that kept me hard at work in civil society and persistent in promoting tourism to my international friends. I used to constantly travel with my Tunisian flag and proudly display it in front of everyone. For god’s sake, when I was in South Africa, I used to talk about Tunisia so much that they made a drinking game out of it. Every time I say Tunisia, they take a shot. It was both flattering and annoying. What’s the turning point, you may ask?
I’m not going to delve into the details of what happened and why it was the turning point, but it just was. February 2023 will forever be a dark and shameful period in Tunisia’s history. It triggered all the wrong buttons in my brain and made me a different person. One who gave up on hope for a better tomorrow since I had nothing to cling to anymore. All the light suddenly turned into darkness, and I began to question whether my small contribution could eventually make a difference. Unfortunately, all these thoughts were more substantial than my will to push them away. At the moment, being Tunisian felt like living in a crowded windowless room. In some instances, someone tries to punch a hole in the wall to let some air in, only to get shunned and mocked by others around them. I was suffocating (figuratively). I struggled to picture my future as a political leader or a human rights defender as I usually did.
But let’s get back to the central core of the question here: why is it so difficult to be Tunisian? Well, for starters, it’s not a choice… it’s something imposed on you at birth, like your religion or gender. While it is possible to be happy with the outcome, it’s safe to assume that the opposite is also very likely. Any rational human would eventually question the choices imposed on them. They can try to do something about it, but sometimes it’s more complicated than [insert a complex issue in your perspective]. My answer to the question is threefold:
- Education: frankly, this is a big one that I struggle with heavily. On the one hand, I studied in Tunisia only up till high school and didn’t experience college life here. On the other hand, that was enough to scar me for life! To keep it simple, education used to be a social elevator in the country. After Tunisia’s independence, people believed that school would help them build a better life which was valid for a significant amount of time until it wasn’t. Students are nowadays oppressed in more ways than we can count. The education system became rigid, sexist, and archaic, brutally murdering every creative expression of students. They are under immense pressure to be academically inclined yet not rewarded with any gratification, as it’s never enough. I’m just scratching the surface here, so let’s not delve into the injustice of the available infrastructure, the complete disregard for mental health or learning disorders, and much more
- The Banking and Administrative Hurdles: if you’re Tunisian, I don’t need to tell you much about why the local bureaucracy infuriates you. These hurdles are so common in Tunisia that they have become the norm. You cannot navigate life without ending up in at least one miserable pitfall. On the one hand, the Tunisian bank cartel (that keeps making record profits while the economy collapses) makes it near impossible for regular citizens like you and me to create or build wealth! With exorbitant interest rates, the current generation cannot buy a house or start a business unless they inherit a lot of money. The Tunisian dream doesn’t exist. At the same time, the administration is a nightmare; we all do our best to stay as far away from it as scientifically possible. Getting a birth certificate, renewing a national ID, passport, or driver’s license, opening a business, closing a business, paying fines, etc.. might seem simple to people from other countries. Still, the experience can turn into a smash horror movie franchise in Tunisia.
- Freedom: finally, the most obvious one of them all. Tunisia used to be a green beacon of hope for any freedom measuring index within a significantly challenged region. It was an example to follow and a source of inspiration for my neighbors. However, with multiple wrong turns, it became a country that doesn’t condone political arrests, oppressed press, individual freedom violations, flaky freedom of speech, and lack of respect for the dignity of a human being. Most notably, you can end up in prison for making a parody. Simply speaking, unless you conform to the most common standards and you agree with what the government is doing, your existence can be threatened.
I’m ashamed to admit I gave up…(for now). If I could ever regain hope, I wouldn’t say no to it, but right now, like most of our country’s youth, I’m leaving. At this point, I faced two terrible questions that I couldn’t answer anymore. Should I take my flag with me or not? How proud am I of my country at this point? I honestly feel like I was pushed to make this decision! I wanted to have a government that respected my existence and made me feel like a human being instead a worthless piece of s**t so that I would never want to leave it! But at this stage, my priority is myself. I need to take care of myself to understand if I can look after my country again. I know what I’m saying is highly controversial, but isn’t honesty the best policy at this point?
While I now unintentionally throw the ball to others with an ongoing spark of hope, I will do my best to recharge again, but I can’t promise anymore. However, I cannot deny that I still love my country and would like to see its untapped potential explored. As we say in Tunisian, you cannot never remove your nose from your face…متنجمش تنحي خشمك من وجهك
