The magazine Valeurs Actuelles has a series of articles this week on the plight of the indigenous French people forced to live in Muslim-colonized areas.
DMF It is far from astonishing that doctors are now refusing to do home visits, that the Post Office is often refusing to deliver packages to certain Muslim areas. Some funeral corteges, according to the criminologist Xavier Raufer, are being forced to avoid high-risk sectors, because the crosses on their hearses become targets of choice.
Even pizza delivery workers are sometimes obliged to stop servicing certain districts, Domino’s Pizzas in Poissy being one example. The owner of this franchise doesn’t want to put the lives of his employees in danger any more, after several of them were attacked on Maréchal-Lyautey Avenue. Locals in the area confirm the danger.
A woman admits to us that she no longer wears jewellery for fear of it being stolen. Another person, a resident of the Saint-Exupéry district, confesses that “she can no longer dress as she likes”, for fear of being spat on. At 58, she fears one day having to wear “their cloth prisons”.
The follows scenes are from Nantes, generally considered one of the safer parts of France. A businesswoman planning to open a beauty shop backed out of the idea because of threats, presumably because Muslims don’t approve of women wearing make-up.
Early in the morning, Sylvie, 28, lets us in to her house in the Bellevue district: “It’s quiet until noon, the scum are asleep.” …The young businesswoman has abandoned her plan to open a beauty shop: “I talked about it with an Algerian girlfriend. Her brother told me that he would make my life a misery with his gang if I went on with it. His sister is no longer allowed to see me. Here, it’s not easy being a woman…”
Roger, 75, no longer recognises his district: “In the 70s, there was a good atmosphere. The immigrants started to arrive en masse in the 80s…Ramadan is the worst, with the party all night, the fear in your belly in case you’re caught eating during the day. And their marriages: of so-called unemployed people who drive about in luxury cars, beeping their horns like madmen, provoking traffic jams, waving foreign flags…”
Pointing at torn-open bin bags underneath the buildings, he bemoans the lack of hygiene: “The city council has paid for ‘resident standard-bearers’ who go from door to door organizing cold buffets to explain that throwing your rubbish out of the window is bad…
Add to that the stairwells squatted by drug traffickers and Islamist preachers who threaten you with the flames of hell if you don’t convert: that’s my daily routine. Here, old people like me are completely lost. I’m waiting to die.”
The baker (female): “Everything’s fine, really. Except last month: it was Ramadan, they were making a barbecue in front of my shop window. When I protested, they threatened to kill me and burn my car. But fine, that’s just words…”
A shopkeeper mentions the vulnerability of the elderly: “They have to lower their eyes in front of kids of 12 years old. No one helps them because they are French. They are more and more isolated because there are fewer and fewer shops here, it’s too difficult. The mini-supermarket closed a year ago. The manager was being shaken down. Almost every day, he was beaten. He employed a guy from the district who was letting people steal at night.”
A local person says: “I can’t send my daughter there any more. She was regularly whistled at and insulted. The men of the district [“du quartier”, tn: “quartier” really just means district but in modern France it’s acquiring a connotation similar to the word ghetto in English] have a particularly archaic vision of women, no doubt for religious or cultural reasons.”