Many of them had arrived with self-certifications "so and so", others exploiting the loophole of a temporary change of residence, having their own house or a regular rental contract.
These are the "seasonal" Italians or long-term vacationers, those who, as soon as they feel the first cold in their bones, now accustomed to the African summer and little to the European winter, are used to making the ticket and spending three to six months in the exotic warmth.
Many of them in 2020 were forced to return to Italy with repatriation flights organized by the Embassy, only to be harnessed the following autumn with waves and lockdowns.
This year the vaccines and the fading of the cases, accompanied by the situation in Kenya, never really worrying but improved to the point of pushing the government to remove the curfew, have brought our compatriots back to Malindi and Watamu, with the idea of returning to spend days of sunbathing, relaxation, private parties and beach parties, dinners in restaurants and all (at least) fifty shades of Kenya, from social commitment to the students of Street University to give (and take) lessons.
Now the cursed Omicron variant, exploded between South Africa and Botswana, of which few really know the effects and dangers, but which is known to be resistant to the vaccine (more or less like mumps and pecola) is likely to close the borders again.
The risk is not so much related to the real threat of the new strain Covid-19, but to the scruples of the European Union and the fair level of paranoia of our Health Minister Roberto Speranza. After having closed to seven countries in southern Africa, all other African countries where an Omicron will land in one of the Kenyan international airports are being monitored on a daily basis.
Thus, in the last two days, Italians who had planned to spend the winter months in Kenya have already been seen anticipating their return date or purchasing a return ticket for fear of being stranded.
These cases are in addition to those who were about to arrive in Kenya in December and decided to experience the thrill of a Christmas in their homeland, perhaps the first after so many years.
We don't blame them, but we certainly don't envy them this time either.
Of course, by now precariousness has taken over our hearts under a dark blanket, as the Poet sang, and so we might as well live for the day, or rather for the month, or rather for the winter season, which in Kenya is called summer and also a little more freedom.