Tunisian social media influencers glamourise migrant crossings

Two women post pictures of dangerous journey across the Mediterranean Sea in search of a new life

Two Tunisian women have sparked controversy for social media posts showing them sailing a migrant trafficking route and glamourising the journey that kills thousands of people each year.

They were accused of normalising the tragedy of people so desperate to escape dangers and poverty at home that they are willing to die to reach the EU.

The women, both social media influencers who sailed as migrants for the chance of a new life, posted selfies and videos of their apparently trouble-free passages across the Mediterranean Sea to the Italian island of Lampedusa.

In a photo posted in November, Sabee Al Saidi, 18, wore bright-pink lipstick as she leaned from the side of a wooden boat, a calm blue sea stretched out behind her. In accompanying video, she smiles alongside a dozen other migrants, gesturing to a popular rap song.

A month later, Chaima Ben Mahmoude, 21, posted a similar video, waving as she made the crossing from Tunisia to Italy with her fiance in a boat crowded with migrants.

Chaima Ben Mahmoude and her fiance pose on the crossing from Tunisia to Lampedusa. AP

“Social media is putting out a vision of Europe that is not accurate,” said Matt Herbert, research manager at the Global Initiative Against Transnational Organised Crime.

Last year, 2,048 people went missing in the Mediterranean and since 2014, the figure is about 23,000, the Missing Migrants Project says.

Experts warn that Ms Al Saidi and Ms Ben Mahmoude, with nearly 2 million followers on TikTok and Instagram between them, could inspire others to make the dangerous crossing.

Rescued migrants in the port of Ben Gardane, south Tunisia. AP

Tunisia is a key departure point for migrants setting off from North Africa to Europe.

Political upheaval in Tunisia and a deteriorating economy has seen a rise in Tunisians trying to leave, from 5,000 in 2019 to 23,000 in 2021.

The journey across the Mediterranean is known locally as the harka, a reference to the figurative burning of borders and the destruction of personal documents before undertaking the perilous crossing.

Wael Garnaoui, a psychologist researching the harka, says the hope of a better life in Europe is largely based on “the migration lie”, which he says has been intensified by social media.

A precarious wooden boat in the Mediterranean Sea. AP

People see others reach Europe and observe their apparent success. They think they can easily get papers, work and money, but the reality across the EU is unemployment rate for migrants at 14 per cent compared to 6 per cent for locals.

“So they go to the Eiffel Tower and take a selfie in a Lacoste T-shirt, take photos of expensive cars. They tell their family back home that everything is going well,” Mr Garnaoui said.

Both the Tunisian influencers secured sponsorships in Tunisia that paid them for their social media endorsements of beauty products and local businesses.

Posts like theirs “demystify” a journey that might otherwise be too terrifying to undertake, said Mr Herbert.

“What these videos do … it confronts their fear with a visual reality that people can replace it with. It lowers the mental bar to leaving,” he said.

The shoes of migrants were retrieved by artist Mohsen Lahzib to create art from the continuing tragedy. AP

In the weeks since Ms Al Saidi and Ms Ben Mahmoude made it to Europe, they have documented shopping sprees, rides in BMWs and picture-perfect lattes.

As Ms Ben Mahmoude underwent two weeks’ Covid-19 quarantine at a detention centre in Italy, she said she understood the risks of the journey but financial difficulties and her inability to get a visa had forced her to do the harka.

“I didn’t find anything for myself in Tunisia,” she said. “I have a diploma in hairdressing and I couldn’t get any work in this field. When I did, the monthly salary was really hopeless — around 350 dinar ($120). You cannot do anything with that. You can just use public transport and buy your lunch — that’s it.”

Ms Ben Mahmoude, who grew up in a lower middle-class family in the coastal Tunisian city of Sfax, said all it took was a call to a friend of a friend. She then paid 4,500 dinar ($1,560) for a place in the boat alongside 23 others.

Despite her smiles in the photos, she said the journey was terrifying.

“The fear was extraordinary, the sea was really agitated and there were lots of high waves,” she said. “In the boat, we said a prayer and prepared ourselves for death. When they told us we had arrived in Italian waters, we couldn’t believe it.”