‘The water war’: how drought threatens survival of Sicily’s towns | Italy

An ancient Sicilian proverb goes like this: “When water to two fountains flows, one will stay dry – that’s how it goes.” The residents of the small town of Troina in the heart of Sicily, struck by a long and unprecedented drought, perhaps understand its meaning better than anyone else. When authorities decreed that the little water left in their dam should be shared with the villages of another province, they took action, and, on 30 November, occupied the distribution centre of the reservoir, blocking access.

“It’s a war between the poor; we are aware of it,” says Salvatore Giamblanco, 66, owner of a bed and breakfast in Troina. “But we had no other choice. The dam is drying up. We have difficulty finding water for ourselves. I had to cancel numerous reservations due to the lack of water. If we also have to share what little we have with other towns, we will all be left dry.”

Sicily is grappling with the most serious water crisis in its history. The island, the largest and most populous in the Mediterranean, where a European record high temperature of 48.8C was reached in 2021, is at risk of desertification.

Despite the recent autumn rains, and with Christmas approaching, thousands of families are still storing supplies of water containers in their homes for washing or cooking. In many provinces of the island, authorities have announced water rationing, while the capacity of reservoirs in dams is almost halved (-48%) compared to last year. A third of the Sicilian basins that supply water to homes are now completely or nearly dry.

This is the case of the Ancipa dam, a reservoir on the course of the Troina River in the Enna province, nestled among the Nebrodi mountains that run along the north-east of Sicily. Ancipa has a capacity of more than 30m cubic metres, but according to data from the Sicilian Hydrographic Basin Authority, in recent days, it has been reduced to less than 290,000. By the end of November, regional authorities ordered that the water from the dam be temporarily used to supply some towns in the province of Caltanissetta, which are also struggling with the drought.

The decision triggered what the local press has described as “the water war.”

“Faced with this decision, we were compelled to do something strong, something peaceful, but strong,” said Troina Mayor Alfio Giachino. “We needed to shine a spotlight on the consequences that the decision to use the little water left in the Ancipa reservoir would have caused if shared with other towns in other provinces.”

For three days, hundreds of residents from the municipalities of Troina, Cerami, Gagliano Castelferrato, Nicosia, and Sperlinga, who are entirely dependent on the Ancipa for water supplies, occupied the water distribution centre of the reservoir.

“Many cities in Sicily are experiencing a serious water emergency,” said Giachino. “But if these towns can somehow find alternatives, we have no choice. If the water in the dam runs out, the taps in our homes will remain dry.”

At least once a week, the residents of Troina, faced with water shortages, make their way to the old Ummuru watering hole on the outskirts of town. Here, the inhabitants of this quaint town of 8,600 people, overlooked by the majestic Mount Etna, fill dozens of containers with water to cope with the lack of supply in their homes.

“With the Ancipa dam reduced to a puddle of mud, the little water that reaches our taps is often yellow or brown,” says Silvio Siciliano, 76.

“We cannot use it for drinking or cooking. At the moment, water arrives in our homes once a week. That’s why sometimes we come here and wait in line for hours to fill up some containers. If God made it rain more and there was an abundance of water, we would be happy to share it with other towns. But it hasn’t rained here for months, and it hasn’t snowed for two years, which would have helped fill the dam with water.”

Someone in the town has taken even more extreme measures. Gateano Giamblanco, 39, son of Salvatore and owner of a bar, keeps a stack of papers in a drawer behind the counter.

“Do you see these?! These are water bills,” he says. “I have decided not to pay them,” Gateano says. “I will resume paying them when I no longer have to buy emergency water tanks to ensure water for my customers, or when I can turn on the tap in my bar and offer my customers drinkable water. Until then, they won’t get a cent from me.”

“In all my life, I have never seen a water crisis so severe in Sicily,” says Silvia Macrí, 62. “We used to have water shortages in the summer. But here winter is approaching, and we are still filling buckets from an old water trough.”

Traditionally, drinking water in the island is sourced from aquifersand subterranean rock layers saturated with water, while water for agriculture is stored in large tanks constructed after the second world war. Both systems rely on winter rainfall, which is increasingly scarce. And for three decades, essential maintenance of the irrigation network has been neglected.

On 2 December, the occupation of the dam ended after a conciliation meeting with the authorities, who ensured that the water from the reservoir must be allocated to only five municipalities surrounding the dam, including Troina, until the water capacity is below 400,000 cubic metres.

Local authorities are pleased with the agreement reached, although they are aware that it will take more time to solve the crisis.

“Try to imagine what it means to live without water for a family,” says Giachino. “The anxiety it can create in people who need to meet basic needs like washing and even heating because, without water, not even heaters work. It’s something that undermines the serenity of the inhabitants.”

Troina, the site of a historic battleground during the second world war that resulted in extensive damage to the city during the intense six-day conflict, is among hundreds of Sicilian towns risking extinction in the coming decades. In 2021, in an attempt to resuscitate the community, Troina adopted a strategy that has become fashionable in the south: sell, or practically give away, abandoned homes to anyone willing to move in – the symbolic price of a house: €1.

“In the long run, this drought risks depopulating the already sparsely populated tiny towns in the Sicilian hinterland,” says Giachino.

“It’s not just the future of a dam at stake here,” he adds. “It’s the future of our towns, the future of our people.”