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    Once upon a time there was Islam
    Once upon a time there was Islam
    Once upon a time there was Islam
    Ebook126 pages1 hour

    Once upon a time there was Islam

    By Marco Antonio Caio

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    About this ebook

    Caio Marco Antonio was born in Benghazi, Libya. He has spent 20 years of his life in North Africa and in the Sahara Desert, working for an oil company. He lives in Berlin, Germany, and Rome, Italy. This book is a collection of many e-mails, received from different parts of the world. Most of them deal with muslims and their own way of looking at things.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherYoucanprint
    Release dateMay 16, 2016
    ISBN9788892609037
    Once upon a time there was Islam

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      Once upon a time there was Islam - Marco Antonio Caio

      Indice

      Frontpage

      Copyright

      Once upon a time there was Islam

      Caio Marco Antonio

      Once upon a time there was Islam

      Youcanprint Self-Publishing

      Titolo | Once upon a time there was Islam

      Autore | Caio Marco Antonio

      ISBN | 9788892609037

      Prima edizione digitale: 2016

      © Tutti i diritti riservati all’Autore

      Youcanprint Self-Publishing

      Via Roma 73 - 73039 Tricase (LE)

      info@youcanprint.it

      www.youcanprint.it

      Questo eBook non potrà formare oggetto di scambio, commercio, prestito e rivendita e non potrà essere in alcun modo diffuso senza il previo consenso scritto dell’autore.

      Qualsiasi distribuzione o fruizione non autorizzata costituisce violazione dei diritti dell’editore e dell’autore e sarà sanzionata civilmente e penalmente secondo quanto previsto dalla legge 633/1941.

      Thanks to your democratic laws we will invade you.

      Thanks to our religious laws we will dominate you.

      You sir, prefer your Allah who tells you to kill me in order to assure yourself a place in Paradise, or perhaps my Jesus who tells me to love you in order for me to go to paradise, and so He would like for you to be up there with me as well ?

      This book that I have written was inspired by various e-mails sent to me by many people including some friends that live in some of the most disparate places on earth.

      Letters sent via the internet by people who wanted to manifest their discomfort towards Islam and the illegal immigration by Muslims towards western countries such as our dear and old Europe, but not forgetting Australia, Canada and the United States of America.

      It’s obvious that European governments within the past twenty-years have not done much to confront and resolve this very important problem. Now is much more difficult to find a remedy for all the damage that has accumulated within these last years.. thanks to the congenital myopia of most of the political establishment in Western Europe.

      Of course the ‘do-gooders’ which we have many in Europe, maybe too many, they have greatly contributed to worsening this phenomenon and now we find ourselves with this huge problem and with not an easy solution.

      Every once in a while in the squares and parliaments of the various European capitals, the do-gooders defend the illegal immigrants and their rights. Let’s not talk about our eventual duties towards them, immediately news crosses the borders of various nations, climbs the mountain ranges, crosses the seas and deserts, and it reaches where other poor people are awaiting to undergo the journey of hope, which in many cases it is a trip without return and without hope.

      He who writes is not a man without a heart and not even selfish, but he is a man that sees things for what they are, but at least does everything possible to understand the facts and situations for what they are.

      Going around the streets of Rome at night and seeing many human beings preparing themselves a ‘‘bed’’ for the night, using cardboard boxes in order to protect themselves from the pungent cold. it is not an edifying spectacle and it saddens me much seeing those human beings reduced to those terrible situations.

      To sleep out in the streets during the summer months must not be very hard, but during the winter months the music changes, a lot, even if in Rome the climate is never too harsh.

      Coming to Rome by train you can see scattered old couches with the usual cardboard boxes on the ground and some blankets in order to cover themselves from the pungent night cold. In Rome, the temperature at night can get as low as below zero.

      You can begin noticing those mounts of covers, covering those poor miserable beings, trying to find shelter from the freezing cold, as soon as you reach Trastevere station, continuing to Ostiense station and onto Roma Tuscolana. Those without a roof, sleep on the sidewalks adjacent to the train stations, even near the tracks and under the shelters in order to take cover from the rain and also to have the sensation of having a roof over their heads.

      It creates enormous sadness thinking of those human beings in this civilized Rome, forced to sleep at those bivouacs because they are resigned to themselves, without the minimum work that would permit them to have the appearance at a better life.

      I was informed that there are young people volunteering to drive around at night with their car full of food and hot beverages to distribute to those miserable people, that at least besides putting something hot in their mouths they feel that there are people out there that are concerned for them without asking for anything in return, only within the spirit of altruism.

      I believe those young people should be called the angels of the city or of the night, besides what they are called I believe they are without a doubt real Angels.

      I was of the idea, and still am, that all the advanced countries should develop organic plans teaching those people in their country of origin how to cultivate their land using methods and equipment like the ones used in Europe, the United States and Canada, also to learn new professions that could be of help to their communities.

      It should be our duty to supply those people with machinery and all other tools in order to work the land, and it should not be too difficult to send agronomists, mechanics, doctors, veterinarians, also whatever is needed to build small factories, those things should be foremost everything else.

      I think that after an initial help and guidance they should become autonomous and independent.

      To try and help those people in their country near their familiar affections, their friends their environment, should be the best solution for them but also for us.

      In financial terms this method would cost us much less than all of the assistance that we are forced to give them, from the time that they are spotted at sea until the time they leave Italy to go to other European countries, or as it happens often they decide to remain in Italy, with all the problems that such a decision entails.

      Besides the economic problems we have to add the social tensions and the inevitable frictions that arise between the Italian citizens and part of the immigrants.

      There have already been those kinds of problems in the past and there are plenty of newspaper headlines that count for that.

      It is obvious that it is not easy to live in those welcoming centers when they first arrive, for long periods without a clear future and the fear that they would be deported, and annulling their attempt to reach the much desired ‘‘Eldorado’’.

      Let us not talk about the bigger issue, which is the constant loss of lives that are swallowed by the Mediterranean sea.

      We haven’t the faintest idea as to how many human beings have drowned and are at the bottom of sea within these last years, whenever a rubber dinghy with its load of human cargo of desperate women and children takes off the coast of North Africa.

      It all takes place in a stealthy matter and no one takes note of their departure, not even the authorities from the origin of their departure, which naturally they say that they did not know. That rubber dinghy officially does not exist and if it reaches Lampedusa, Malta or even Pantelleria, it means that good or bad it has saved itself, otherwise it has sunk with its human cargo, and no one will ever know anything about it, besides maybe, the family and friends of the ones that had embarked on that dinghy with its final destination, the southern European coast. Not having any more news of their dear ones and their friends, would come to the conclusion that the trip of hope did not have a good ending.

      We should ask the fishermen from Mazara del Vallo, Trapani, Pantelleria, Lampedusa and Agrigento if they have ever found remains of human beings stuck in their nets and

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