Once a no-go zone thanks to its mafia ties, Naples has pulled off a surprising transformation.
With British tourists now arriving in droves, lured by low-cost airlines, cruise ships, and trendy budget-friendly hotels, the city has suddenly become a Mediterranean favorite.
They come for the historic treasures—Mount Vesuvius, Pompeii—and stay for the pizza in the bustling Spanish Quarter.
But beneath the city’s lively charm lies a darker reality.
Naples is still very much haunted by its past—and more alarmingly, its present.
Old Mafia, New Blood: The Rise of Baby Gangsters
The Camorra, one of Italy’s most notorious crime syndicates, once ruled the streets.
Government crackdowns put many of the old bosses behind bars.
But removing the old guard created a vacuum—and it didn’t stay empty for long.
In their place? A new generation of ultra-violent, Gen Z mobsters who’ve tossed aside traditional mafia “rules,” including the one that protected civilians.
These young gangsters—known as paranza or “small fish”—are unpredictable, ruthless, and alarmingly reckless.
The result: violent crime in Naples is up nearly 20%, and innocent people are dying over things as trivial as dirty sneakers.
Death Over a Step: The Sneaker Murders That Shocked Italy
Santo Romano, a 19-year-old aspiring football goalkeeper, was enjoying a night out with friends last November.
It was supposed to be a celebration.
Instead, it ended in bloodshed.
He was shot and killed by a 17-year-old Camorra wannabe named Luigi, all because of a petty street encounter.
Luigi accused someone of stepping on his £425 Versace trainers—a slight he felt needed avenging.
Eyewitnesses say it wasn’t even Santo who did it.
Luigi was later arrested after foolishly flaunting his lifestyle on social media, posing with guns and known gang members.
He received a sentence of 18 years and eight months, later trimmed because he agreed not to appeal.
But for Santo’s grieving mother and girlfriend, that punishment felt like a slap in the face.
Mourning in Protest: Families Demand Justice
Santo’s loved ones weren’t alone in their grief.
They joined a growing number of families in Naples who are mourning their children—slain not by seasoned criminals, but by kids pretending to be them.
Daniela Di Maggio, whose 24-year-old son Giogio was murdered over a motorcycle parking dispute, is now a vocal activist.
Giogio, a gifted classical composer, pleaded for peace before he was gunned down by another teen gangster.
His killer didn’t flee in shame—he spent the night playing poker.
Outraged by the lack of justice, Daniela confronted Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, demanding real reform.
And for a while, it seemed like change was coming.
Government Crackdowns: Real Reform or Just Optics?
After the shocking murders, Meloni’s government made bold moves.
In Caivano, a Naples suburb plagued by crime and abuse, officials were removed, suspected Camorra members evicted, and millions poured into social projects.
A former drug den was even turned into a sparkling new sports center.
But locals are skeptical.
Many displaced families were given no help.
Promised jobs went to outsiders.
And the same poverty and hopelessness that breeds criminality still exists.
Angela D’Amico, a mother of three who lost her home in the raid, summed it up: “If they want to stop kids turning to crime, they have to actually give them a future.”
The Grim Reality: Mafia Culture Isn’t Gone—It’s Evolving
What’s most chilling is how these young killers idolize the mafia life.
They post gun pics on Instagram, brag about their crimes, and call each other “lions.”
One boy even mimicked a shooting gesture online, encouraged by his aunt during a prison video call.
To curb this disturbing trend, the government is exploring an update to an old law that bans the glorification of fascism—this time, to cover mafia culture too.
But whether that will be enough remains to be seen.
Glimmers of Hope: Fighting Crime With Care
Amid the despair, there are a few signs of light.
At the “Little Kids Voice” center, a villa once owned by a Camorra boss (who literally kept a lion in the garden), children from crime-tangled families now play and learn after school.
Priest Luigi Merola, who runs the center, says most of the kids have parents in jail.
But they’re eager to build a better future.
One 12-year-old boy, Andrea, dreams of becoming a businessman, not a drug dealer like his father.
For cities like Naples, stories like his are rare—but crucial.
A City on the Edge: Tourists Flock In, But Violence Still Lurks
Even as visitors pack into pizza joints and pose by Pompeii, gunshots still ring out.
Shootings now happen in touristy areas near landmarks like the National Museum of Archaeology.
Locals know: the mafia may be changing, but it’s far from gone.
And in Naples, stepping on the wrong shoes—or just being in the wrong place—can still get you killed.