FODA

When talking about the situation of Malian migrants in The Netherlands, it is useful to look at the difference between men and women. Their number is probably more or less the same, but the way they arrive is different. Most women migrate through marriage, either to a Malian man who has already been in Europe for a while, or to a Dutch man who they have met in Africa. When they arrive, their situation in terms of income, housing, and residence permit is often arranged. Their next challenge is to find their way in a foreign country: learn Dutch, find work, get a driving license, etc.

Men usually come by themselves, through other contacts such as family or friends. They often have the idea to look around, and see if they have a chance to find work. If it works out they stay, if it doesn’t they try their luck elsewhere. They usually have to go through a certain period of being illegal, until they can somehow get a residence permit, and find legal and fixed work.

In the first period, people live from small jobs such as delivering news- papers, work in restaurants and hotels, working in a telephone shop, or con- struction work. The next challenge is to get a residence permit. People have told me that this became more difficult over the years. ‘Before, you could just open a bank account, subscribe for a house, everything on a Malian passport. But since the koppelingswet4, everything is difficult’, somebody explained.

One man has been living without a residence permit for a while. When he met a Dutch girlfriend, they wanted to put things straight, and they went to the Aliens Police. There it turned out that he was already known by the authorities, so he was immediately locked up and sent back to Mali. He waited for six months in Bamako, and with the help of his girlfriend he could finally get a residence permit. Somehow getting the papers seems to be a matter of luck. Some lucky ones have managed within a couple of months or a few years, and for others it takes a long time, if they ever manage.

After an irregular period, people somehow find their way. Most Malian people I have met here had a fixed income, and were working for example in factories, construction work, as a bus driver, French teacher, at a computer company, or as a welder. The women worked for example in childcare, care for elderly, or production work. Several women I met were still working on their education, doing additional courses, and improving their Dutch skills.

The table below gives an impression how my seven main respondents man- aged their ‘first integration’ in Dutch society. They have all been in The Nether- lands for more than five years. Currently, some are actively working on their Dutch skills, and everybody wants a driving license.

Residence permit Dutch language Driving license

Diallo + + + Tungara + + + Kadi + + + Djenebu + + - Fatimata + +/- - Aisha + - - Sourie - - -

A law that was introduced in 1998 to discourage people to live in The Netherlands without a residence permit. It prevents these people benefiting from social assist- ance, rent subsidy, student grants, or a health insurance.

It is hard to really speak of a Malian community in The Netherlands. The number is too small, and people are literally spread all over the country, from villages in the southern province Limburg to the northern island of Schier- monnikoog. The women are more organised than the men. About 20 women are members of an association, and a couple of them meet every month. More than half of them have a Dutch partner. The men meet in smaller groups, like for example in one house in Amsterdam where some men are living together and many others frequently pass by. They have looser contacts with many others, who visit occasionally, and then they can lose sight for months or years. But many people also live in towns where no other Malians live, and are more con- nected to other Africans or Dutch.

The situation is fundamentally different than it is in France, where there is a large Malian community in Paris. People have told me about rooms stuffed with immigrants without papers, who will do anything to be able to pay their rent and save some money to send home. My respondents usually had a fixed income, or were married to somebody with a fixed income. The married couples had a house for themselves and their children. Some others still had to make a living from smaller jobs, and did not have their residence permit.

To get an idea of the ‘type of migrant’ residing in The Netherlands, it is also interesting to look back at chapter four. The survey in Segou revealed that the majority of migrants who leave to Europe come from richer families. Without exception, the migrants here indeed do come from such families. They abso- lutely fit into the category ‘more wealthy’ as described in the previous chapter. Most people have at least secondary education and they all have many other family members abroad. Everybody came by plane, on a tourist visa, or with the help of a Dutch partner. The migrants who are less fortunate and make their travel by boat, do not seem to reach The Netherlands (none of my respondents knew such a person). I suppose that The Netherlands is too far out of sight for these people. All the Malians I met grew up in a city, either in Bamako or in an- other urban area.