He claimed that the Mayor of the city had asked him and his henchmen if they could make Varzariu “decide to leave”. Without Varzariu as witness the mayor could continue, without hindrance, his plan to evacuate a large Roma settlement known as Craica. Moving them on, to who knows where, so that he could create a “Picnic Area” as he had promised as part of his electoral platform. Pise claimed to have responded to the mayor by asking “Why should I do this?” he is only here to help the Roma.” The message was simple but Varzariu chose to ignore it.

The harassment continued for several days and took on various forms, from outright threats to Pise’s entourage working to convince and threaten other members of the Roma community to be uncooperative with Varzariu as they claimed he was, after all, only getting rich from their hardship, from their misery.

In an eventual showdown with Pise, Varzariu offered to give him all the pictures he had ever taken of Roma in the area, both current ones and those from previous assignments, provided that Pise and his family live for one year from the income generated by those pictures. The crowds that had gathered erupted with laughter and with the tensions diffused the threats were of no further use. So Pise and his henchmen faded into the background once again. “I am sure that Pise’s threats were only half hearted,” Says Varzariu, “No matter how much he told people I was only there to exploit them for my own gain, he could see my efforts to help the Roma were genuine, but he also had to be able to tell the mayor that he had tried to get rid of me.”

Though his work in Baia Mare has brought no financial rewards Varzariu was granted the status of Human Rights Defender by Amnesty International, a protection which would be helpful should the threats against him escalate.

His work with the Roma of Baia Mare continues and he has seen the discrimination against them take on many forms. He was present when the wall to segregate the Roma living in dilapidated social housing on the notorious Horea Street was built, with the sole purpose of creating a ghetto to separate the Roma from the rest of the city’s inhabitants. He was the sole witness to, and by virtue of bearing witness to the obviously illegal action, preventor of the failed attempt to liquidate the settlement  at Craica. Alone too he saw moves to coerce and threaten Roma into leaving Craica for “accommodation” at Cuprom, a disused and contaminated soviet era copper factory. The relationships and trust he has earned over the years ensures that when he visits he really sees what is there, rather than seeing what is shown. Other journalists who visit, read the superficial appearance and speak to those designated by the authorities to speak to them, then make their assessments based upon that limited understanding.

In 2018, after the eviction drives had failed and the mayor turned to new tactics to fulfil his Romaphobic election promises. The Roma, who have no real access to the jobs and ways of making a living that others see as their right, have to eke out a living doing the work that nobody else will do, by recycling scrap materials, making small items for sale or by raising livestock.  Livestock is crucial to Roma survival as they needs horses to draw their carts and pigs to raise for meat. A city hall decision, whose sole aim could only have been to force Roma to leave those settlements was enacted. The sudden prohibition of the raising of livestock in Baia Mare  was brought into force with the exceptions of the neighbourhoods of Firiza, Blidari, Ferneziu and Valea Borcutului. So the Roma of Craica suddenly found that their main source of support and income was illegal. The mayor, having failed to coerce, threaten and harass the Roma into leaving, had decided to effectively, starve them out.

Prior to this ruling there had been a verbal agreement with Police that Roma could use their horse drawn carriages to transport salvaged goods from a landfill site to a recycling centre, without their horses this could not continue. Horses are confiscated and Roma turn to moneylenders for loans to retrieve them from Police impoundment. Adding another layer of hardship to an already unbearably difficult life.

Living in ramshackle huts made from salvaged materials, without light, without heat, without water, and now without food or the possibility to earn a living, what should these people do in the face of a mayor’s obsession with their relocation or expulsion from the city?

While documenting this latest turn of events local authority employees recognised Varzariu’s car parked at Craica and contacted their “influencers” within the community to do whatever it took to drive him away under threat of withdrawing what little support they were given unless they got rid of him. Within the hour Varzariu came under attack from a man claiming to be the son of a community leader. The situation was diffused by the community Varzariu withdrew for a few days while things calmed, but so too did his attacker for fear of repercussions within the community. He had, after all, attacked the only person doing anything to help them.

Roma are held captive in this triangle of forces attacking them from the outside and gnawing away at their communities from within. After all the years, all the efforts, all the physical attacks and legal battles, Varzariu is forced to admit that only a bleak future awaits the Roma.

“It’s not because they don’t want to escape this vicious circle which holds them captive,” he says, “But because people continue to elect mayors like the one in Baia Mare and because we leave the Roma prey to the malignant forces within their communities who syphon off whatever little assistance is given by the authorities and NGO’s.