N°75 — A neighbourhood of one’s own

— PISA, 27TH MAY 2026

The Sant’Ermete neighbourhood is a product of the Second World War . The earliest buildings were hastily constructed in 1946 to provide shelter for those who had lost their homes during the bombing of Pisa (on the 31st August 1943, part of the city was destroyed in just seven minutes by an Allied air raid, ed.). These crammed together buildings, designed for those who had lost everything, became our neighbourhood.

Sant’Ermete has changed a lot since the post war years. From the 1970s onwards, people from the south began settling here, including families looking for work and residents of central Pisa, who watched this historic part of the city transform right before their eyes. Sant’Ermete has always been a working-class neighbourhood; everyone knew and looked out for one another. The very layout of the houses – low-rise, with courtyards and communal spaces – fostered a sense of community. It wasn’t an ideological project. It was simply the way of life.

Then followed a long period of neglect. With no maintenance being carried out, the ageing buildings fell into disrepair. However, in 2011, a plan for a radical transformation of the neighbourhood was unveiled: all the old buildings were to be demolished and replaced with new, eco-friendly, human-scale developments. It was a flagship project that aimed to completely overhaul the area in a short space of time. The residents believed in it.

­Who wouldn’t want to believe in it after years of neglect? But, unfortunately, the project never came to fruition.

In 2013, when it became clear that this promised plan would never materialise, a citizens’ committee was formed. There was already a strong tradition of mutual support in the neighbourhood, the committee therefore drew on this tradition and gave it a more organised and focused structure, capable of exerting pressure on the authorities.

At the time, I was living somewhere else. I became involved with Sant’Ermete through the housing rights movement, as I also had a housing problem. Over the years, the neighbourhood had become a sort of focal point in the city for those fighting these battles, a small bastion of dignity when it came to housing.

Despite our efforts, the neighbourhood was rapidly deteriorating; houses were standing empty and flats were no longer being allocated. The buildings were falling into disrepair with no one living in them. The residents therefore decided to organise a self-managed referendum. Among the questions put to vote was: should we breathe new life into these empty flats and reintegrate them into the new neighbourhood?

So, it was decided that we would take charge of these empty properties and we began renovating them ourselves. Painting, carpentry, anything we could do with our own hands, we did. From the outset, we sought to engage with the authorities to gain recognition for the project, but for a long time we received no response.

Nevertheless, we carried on. We organised ourselves into three committees. A legal committee: to understand regional and national laws and local by-laws, and to determine the legal route to take to secure recognition for a community-led self-renovation project. A works committee: to make practical progress on renovating the flats. A social committee: to work out how we would manage the communal areas, cleaning and maintenance of the neighbourhood.­

­We also held a picket line in the central square every morning.

In 2022, we finally organised a protest outside the town hall. We wanted a clear answer: would they manage the housing and recognise the self-renovation project – yes or no? We pitched our tents. By the next day, we had signed an agreement.

The next phase then began. The council released funds to cover part of the structural work, and we continued to carry out the rest ourselves. The council then issued a call for expressions of interest for 29 homes. Myself and other residents met the eligibility criteria, as we were in urgent need of housing, and we were already on the waiting list for social housing. Being allocated these homes meant we finally had a place to call home.

I’ve been living in Sant’Ermete for nearly two years now, and I’ve seen it change with my own eyes. It used to be a neighbourhood of elderly people. Now, with these 29 new families, it’s bursting with life and there are children everywhere. The main square, which was already lovely, is now even better maintained. We’ve set up an after-school club, two days a week, with activities and games so that children can get together in the neighbourhood. There’s also a support service for older people and various support networks. These things were already in place before, but they’re now better organised and still run entirely by local residents.

Problems do occur; I won’t deny it. There are frictions like in any neighbourhood. But we try to manage them together, through our meetings. Because those who came to settle here did so with a vision in mind, not just out of necessity.

Housing is a right. I don’t mean that rhetorically, like a slogan you hear online. I’ve experienced the opposite: when a home becomes something you have to earn, defend and fight for. In this world, even finding a place to live is a struggle. And having a home doesn’t just mean having a roof over your head. It means living with dignity, being with others. This neighbourhood has taught me that, and continues to teach me every day.­

— KEVIN
This account was recorded by Melissa Aglietti, a journalist with our Italian partner VD News.