Below we report the speech of the President of the Municipal Council of Lanusei in memory of Monsignor Antioco Piseddu, Paola Murru, Davide Pilia and Marco Mameli.

***
Dear colleagues,
Before opening the works of this City Council, I invite you to share a moment of reflection and memory. A moment that, by its nature, leads us to confront ourselves with silence.
In these months, our community has lost people who – in different ways – have represented points of reference, examples, open questions. Today we remember Monsignor Antioco Piseddu, Dr. Paola Murru, a young son of Lanusei, Davide Pilia . And we dutifully, necessarily, also remember Marco Mameli , another son of Ogliastra whose life was cut short too soon.
There is an invisible but indissoluble thread that binds the names we remember today. It is silence. But not a single, monolithic silence; no, there are many.
There is the silence that envelops us afterwards: like a thick veil, when we miss someone who has left an indelible mark on our lives. It is that pregnant silence that takes away our words, that imposes respect, that hides modesty and carries with it an inestimable weight. How can we find the words when pain silences us?
Then there is the silence that is chosen: that of those who act without fanfare, with firmness and coherence, far from the stages and the protagonisms. An industrious silence. How many of us choose this path, far from the spotlight?
And then there is the silence that we endure: that of indifference, of fear, of silence. How many times have we witnessed this silence, without acting? That which, too often, becomes resignation.

Mons. Antioco Piseddu was never silent. He never sought noise, but always had the courage to speak. He did it with a gentle voice, but with strong, clear, profound words. He did it from behind the altar, but also on the street, in factories, in schools, in marches, among the people. He broke the silence in the face of injustice, poverty, loneliness.
In times like ours, torn by military and economic wars, by disorientation, by growing inhumanity, we miss his voice terribly. Today, faced with the destruction underway in Gaza, documented with crudeness also by satellite images updated in recent days, which show entire neighborhoods, inhabited until a few months ago and now razed to the ground, we feel the void of authoritative voices.
We are overwhelmed by a deathly silence, institutional, media, political, that outrages us and questions us. How would Monsignor Piseddu have reacted to such silence? We know that Antiochus, with the gentle strength that has always distinguished him, would not have remained silent.

Dr. Paola Murru , president emeritus of the Lanusei Court, has instead chosen another silence: that of daily commitment, serious work, discreet intelligence. She could have aspired to higher positions, more prestigious fields, but she chose to stay here, in Ogliastra, to defend a delicate and fundamental garrison for justice and democracy. She too, alongside Monsignor Piseddu and the local institutions, has never failed to provide her support in the battles for healthcare, for the court, for the right of citizens not to be forgotten. Her silent presence has been a guarantee of being listened to and of
fairness. His farewell has left us more alone. How many times have we underestimated the strength of this industrious silence?

And then there is Davide Pilia . Fifteen years old. A life that was just beginning. His sudden death left the community stunned, unable to react. A cold, silent silence, like that which falls after a storm. His friends greeted him by revving their scooters and playing the notes of a song by Gazzelle from a few years ago: “Destri”. The protagonist of the song realizes that despite the fists against the wall (the right-handed ones in the title, precisely) certain moments now gone by will never return and it really seems to tell the sense of suspension that we have all experienced and are experiencing. We were suspended those days, all of Lanusei was. And even today we have no words to explain, to console, to truly understand. How can we find words to explain? How can we console? How can we truly understand? But we have a duty: to listen to the silence that he left us, to not turn away from the discomfort, the loneliness, the hidden suffering of our children.

And finally there is another silence. Perhaps the most unbearable. It is the silence of omertà, the silence that closes in on itself, that covers, that hides. It is the silence that for too many months has surrounded the murder of Marco Mameli, killed among the people, during a carnival party in Bari Sardo. A brutal, unsolved crime, that weighs not only on the family, but on all of us. The investigations bring no answers, the voices die down, the eyes are lowered.
But not in Ilbono. In Ilbono, dozens of signs are hanging everywhere, on balconies, on walls, on bridges: they ask for truth, they ask for justice. They don't let that silence become normal. And in that silent cry a truth that we know well emerges: denied justice is an offense to everyone. Fabrizio De André said it in Disamistade, to quote a singer that we adults also know, with a phrase that today accompanies us in our hearts. He sang of an absence set for dinner. This is the silence that surrounds Marco's death: an empty chair that burns, a question that cannot remain unanswered. Can we allow this question to remain unanswered?
The murder of Marco Mameli was the basis for imposing on us, in this same hall, a few months ago, a broader reflection on the context in which our children live. Too many young people, often very young, even 13 or 14 years old, today participate in parties and evenings in which alcohol abuse is normalized, in which disorientation manifests itself in noise and conflict. Faced with phenomena like these, our community has the duty not to look the other way, not to limit itself to stigmatizing, but to understand, prevent and propose alternatives.
As a municipal administration, to the extent of our competence, we have said it and will continue to say it, not for vainglory but to spread the offer, we are carrying out concrete actions: social inclusion projects, incentives for sports practice, redevelopment of urban spaces that can become positive meeting places. With social services, listening desks dedicated to children and families are active. The collaboration with the Comprehensive Institute is continuous and deep.
We must admit, however, that the connection with high schools is still weak, and not by will of one or the other party, but by an objective fragmentation of skills. This is where we must make a leap in quality, building stable bridges, constant dialogues. Something has already moved: I think of the meeting on road safety organized a few weeks ago, a true example of successful collaboration.
Speaking of bridges, while someone is thinking about financing the smoke ones, the kids who were present at the Council on March 6 asked us adults to build one together, a generational bridge that allows them to participate, to collaborate, to be listened to in the choices that concern them.
Maybe we already have this bridge: it's called Youth Consultation. We've already started it in the past, but it didn't take root. Maybe we made a mistake in communication, maybe the age groups weren't the right ones. But today we can and must relaunch it, redefining it together with the kids. Giving them not just a space, but a real role.
Lanusei already has many examples: the Don Bosco Committee is animated by young people who are imagining events and moments of sociality precisely to remain in their town, to live it well. The Pro Loco continues to be a driving force of involvement, the sports and cultural associations are a precious garrison. Let's make sure that young people become protagonists and, above all, teach us adults to listen to them. Let's convene the associations, let's relaunch the idea of the youth consultation. We can't talk about it in this session, obviously, but let's stop after the Council we administrators and schedule a meeting on the topic soon.

In the wake of Monsignor Piseddu – a clear and courageous voice in the injustices of the world – I want to advance a simple but significant proposal: to hang a flag of peace on the facade of the City Hall. A universal symbol, without political affiliations, that cannot and must not be seen as divisive. A clear and visible reference to Article 11 of our Constitution, a gesture that rejects war wherever it is fought.
It is not the flag of Palestine, it is not the flag of one side. It is the flag of coexistence, of respect, of the protection of civilians, of innocents. A few weeks ago we hung a white shroud on the facade of the City Hall: a silent but powerful banner, to denounce the violations of international humanitarian law by the Israeli government, which has hindered the arrival of aid, bombed civilian areas and acted in contempt of the Geneva Conventions, as documented by the main UN agencies and independent organizations.
Lanusei, however, does not limit itself to words. We demonstrated it when, together with our social services councilor Sandra Aresu, we personally went to pick up a bus full of Ukrainian refugees fleeing the war. Today those women and children live, work, attend our schools, are part of our community.
Those women told us about the torment of the bombings. The same torment that our grandparents told us about when, during the Second World War, they were welcoming the displaced people who came from Cagliari. Our generation missed that direct story. But the Ukrainians made it current, concrete, tangible again.
And that is why we say it loudly: the pain of the Ukrainian population is no different from that experienced by the people of Gaza, or from that experienced in Donbass, or from that suffered by the Syrian people, or from that suffered by anyone who is a victim of war anywhere in the world. The flag of peace is our response: silent but clear, symbolic but concrete. It is our way of saying: “Never again.”

Before listening to those present who wish to speak, for all the silent protagonists of this opening session – for Antioco, Paola, Davide and Marco – I ask you now to join us in a minute of silence. But let it be a silence full of memory, gratitude, responsibility. A silence that does not forget, does not remove and does not accept. A silence that, even in the face of what is happening in Gaza, does not give up and continues to question the reason for so much indifference.
Thank you

Matteo Stochino, President of the Lanusei City Council

© Riproduzione riservata