From the Balkan Route to Trieste: A Young Sikh’s Story of Smugglers, Violence and Denied Rights

A few days ago, in Piazza Libertà in Trieste, a nineteen-year-old Pakistani boy with remarkably gentle eyes and a very unusual name—one I had never heard before and whose meaning I found deeply beautiful—approached my wheelchair. After exchanging the traditional greeting As-salāmu ʿalaykum, to which I gladly replied, I tried speaking to him in English. He smiled, asked me to wait a moment, and returned a few minutes later accompanied by one of his friends, a young Sikh man from Punjab, India, who spoke both English and Urdu.
Urdu is an Indo-Aryan language belonging to the Indo-European language family. It is Pakistan's national language and one of its official languages, spoken as a first or second language by more than 230 million people across Pakistan, India, and diaspora communities worldwide. Its widespread use makes it one of the principal languages of communication in South Asia.
Through his friend, the Pakistani boy explained that his English was still very limited and that he preferred relying on his companion to translate our conversation. Without even realizing it, we ended up talking for a long time.
This article tells the story of the young Sikh because communicating with him was easier, allowing me to reconstruct his journey with greater accuracy. I hope that one day I will also be able to tell the story of the gentle-eyed Pakistani boy. Behind every face I meet in Piazza Libertà there is a different story, and every story deserves to be heard before it is judged.
There are stories that cannot simply be dismissed under the bureaucratic label of an "irregular journey." That would be not only a legal mistake, but first and foremost a human one. When someone recounts being deceived with the promise of a work visa, paying thousands of euros, being moved across several countries, deprived of their passport, beaten, extorted, and locked inside an apartment, we are no longer dealing with an ordinary account of the Balkan Route. We are confronted with allegations that may constitute serious criminal offences and therefore deserve careful listening, protection, and thorough investigation.
According to the testimony collected, the young man, a 22-year-old from Punjab, India, initially travelled to Cyprus on a student visa after being sent there by his father. His family was already involved in a serious land dispute, leading him to fear for his safety if he were forced to return to India. While in Cyprus, he says he met a man—identified in this article by a fictitious name—who promised to obtain an Italian work visa in exchange for €5,000. After receiving the money, the man allegedly arranged his journey by purchasing a flight from Cyprus to Turkey, followed by a connecting flight from Istanbul's Sabiha Gökçen Airport to Skopje, North Macedonia, leading him to believe that this was simply a normal connection before reaching Italy.
According to his testimony, the reality turned out to be entirely different. After landing in Skopje and passing through immigration controls without any issues, he was instructed to leave the airport, where another man was waiting for him. At that moment, he realised that the promised flight to Italy did not exist. Instead, he had entered what migrants commonly refer to as "the game"—the clandestine journey along the Balkan Route. According to his account, the journey from North Macedonia to Trieste lasted approximately ten to twelve days and involved continuous changes of smugglers, vehicles and routes, all organised to avoid border controls.
The young man also showed me the boarding pass for the flight that took him to North Macedonia via Turkey. Naturally, this document only confirms that this segment of the journey took place. It does not, by itself, prove the events that allegedly followed, which remain part of his testimony and can only be verified through investigations carried out by the competent judicial authorities.
While in Cyprus, he allegedly met a man—whose name has been changed in this article—who promised to obtain an Italian work visa in exchange for €5,000. After receiving the money, instead of arranging legal entry into Italy, the man purchased an airline ticket to North Macedonia, claiming that Italy would simply be a connecting destination.
The reality, according to the young man's account, was very different.
After landing in North Macedonia and passing immigration controls, he was instructed to leave the airport, where another individual was waiting for him. At that moment, he realized that the promised flight to Italy had never existed. Instead, he had entered what migrants commonly refer to as "the game"—the clandestine journey along the Balkan Route.
According to his testimony, the journey from North Macedonia to Trieste lasted approximately ten to twelve days and involved continuous changes of smugglers, vehicles, and routes, all designed to avoid border controls.
The first leg took place by taxi to the Kosovo border. There, the smugglers allegedly ordered the group to run one or two kilometres alongside a railway line in order to cross the border outside official checkpoints. Another taxi was waiting on the other side.
From Kosovo they travelled towards Serbia, where they were again forced to abandon the vehicle and walk through woodland before crossing the border. Another vehicle then transported them towards Bosnia and Herzegovina.
The crossing between Serbia and Bosnia allegedly required travelling across a river in a small boat to avoid official border crossings. Once inside Bosnia, the group was reportedly taken to an isolated house, where they remained hidden for four or five days.
During that period, the young man says he was subjected to insults, intimidation, and physical violence by the smugglers, living in constant fear.
After several days, the journey resumed towards Croatia.
The first attempt failed. According to his account, Croatian police intercepted the group, detained them, confiscated their money, mobile phones, and personal belongings, and pushed them back into Bosnia.
Two days later, the smugglers organised another attempt.
This time the group reportedly walked through forests and rough terrain for six or seven hours before successfully crossing the border. Only after reaching what the smugglers considered a safe area were they once again placed in taxis heading towards Slovenia and finally Trieste.
According to his testimony, the situation deteriorated even further after arriving in Italy.
He says he was taken to an apartment together with four or five other migrants. The following day, one of the men allegedly ordered them to call their families and demand an additional €3,500, claiming that only after payment would their passports be returned.
When he refused, the violence allegedly began.
For four or five days, he states, they were given no food. Eventually, one of the captors accidentally left a door unlocked, allowing them to escape.
The confiscation of his passport played a central role throughout the ordeal. Without identity documents, migrants become significantly more vulnerable, less able to seek help from authorities, and more easily controlled by criminal organisations. Repeated promises to return the passport, never fulfilled, can themselves become a powerful mechanism of psychological coercion.
From a legal perspective, cases such as this require the utmost caution. Only judicial authorities can establish the facts, identify those responsible, and determine the correct legal classification of the conduct involved.
Nevertheless, if the allegations were confirmed, they could potentially fall within several criminal offences under Italian law, including human trafficking (Article 601 of the Italian Criminal Code), facilitation of irregular immigration (Article 12 of Legislative Decree No. 286/1998), extortion (Article 629 of the Criminal Code), kidnapping or unlawful deprivation of liberty (Article 605), battery (Article 581), bodily injury (Article 582), and coercion through violence or threats (Article 610).
It is also important to distinguish between migrant smuggling and human trafficking, although the two phenomena frequently overlap in practice. Deception, debt bondage, confiscation of documents, violence, coercion, and exploitation are all indicators that deserve careful legal assessment. International instruments such as the Palermo Protocol and Directive 2011/36/EU place the protection of victims at the very centre of anti-trafficking policies.
Perhaps the most disturbing aspect of this story is not only what allegedly happened during the journey, but what happened afterwards.
When I learned that, after escaping from the apartment in Trieste, he was sleeping on the streets in what he believed to be a "safe place" to avoid being found by his captors, I could not remain indifferent.
For me, the street is not a safe place for anyone—especially not for someone who fears being hunted down by those who have already subjected him to violence and extortion.
I immediately tried to connect him with people who could offer him emergency accommodation and a safe place to sleep.
At the same time, I directed him towards organisations within Italy's Third Sector that specialise in assisting victims of trafficking and serious exploitation, where experienced lawyers and social workers could evaluate his case. I also strongly encouraged him to report what had happened.
I cannot tolerate social injustice, and I believe that anyone with legal knowledge also has a civic responsibility: helping vulnerable people find the legal protections that the rule of law already provides.
He later told me that he intended to leave Trieste and move to another location in southern Italy, which I deliberately choose not to identify in order to protect his safety.
His decision was motivated both by his fear of encountering the trafficker again and by the fact that the Trieste Police Headquarters had already postponed his residence permit appointment three times, the latest postponement pushing it to mid-July.
Administrative systems inevitably face heavy workloads. Nevertheless, when someone reports fearing for their own life or safety, repeated delays inevitably affect not only administrative procedures but also that person's sense of security.
The most encouraging part of this story is that our contact did not end there.
We exchanged phone numbers and, even today, we occasionally keep in touch.
To me, he is no longer simply a witness to the Balkan Route. He is a young man trying to rebuild his life after an experience which—if confirmed by judicial investigations—would reveal the extraordinary brutality with which criminal organisations exploit human vulnerability.
This story does not ask for pity.
It asks for justice.
It asks that a person be heard not merely as an "irregular migrant," but as a possible victim of serious crime.
It asks institutions, lawyers, civil society organisations, and law enforcement authorities to work together.
Because the rule of law is measured not only by its ability to protect borders, but also by its ability to protect those who have been deceived, exploited, extorted, and abused.
