By mudir 
by Br. Agostino Cerri
Memories of Fr. Piero (1/12/1946 – 26/4/2025) flow as suddenly as the seasonal streams of Kordofan
I first met Fr. Piero during my first years of mission in El Obeid. He was a young missionary full of initiatives and projects to help the poor diocese of El Obeid. The Bishop was Monsignor Paolino Lukudu, his schoolmate in Verona. Together with the bishop, he wanted to relieve the diocese’s finances, so by mutual agreement they started to cultivate several hectares of land in Habila, a very fertile place on the road to the Nuba Mountains. The project failed despite Fr. Piero’s commitment and sacrifices. Fr. Piero did not lose heart and began working on the formation of catechists. It was in this capacity that I got to know and admire him. In Dilling, there was a renowned school for teachers, and it was there that Fr. Piero worked to cultivate friendships with girls from the Nuba Mountains and South Sudan. He had organised catechism courses for them and with his beautiful, easygoing and rich Arabic, he managed to make himself appreciated and esteemed by these educated girls. In the simple and bright chapel of Dilling, these teachers were assisted and involved in the activities of the parish. Then there were the catechists from the surrounding villages. These young people travelled kilometres to receive instruction from their parish priest, and Fr. Piero cared that they were prepared and available to help their people. For them he organised courses and meetings with good, rich breakfasts because – he said – that way they would remember better what they had learnt. Then, I do not know how, he was sent to Nyala in Darfur. There too, there was no lack of work. His two great loves, farming and education, saw him involved him in various projects. He would buy a piece of land, surround it with solid walls, dig wells, plant fruit trees and, knowing the importance of education, open evening schools for adult education. This work was everything to him, and he would do the impossible to keep up with the various increasingly heavy and important commitments. Meanwhile, in Darfur, armed gangs were starting to roam and that piece of land, so nicely fenced and watered, became very desirable. The route became unsafe for those who worked there. So it all ended because of local unrest.
We met again in Khartoum, he was in charge of passports and I would come to the capital from time to time to renew permits. His presence in the house was easy to hear, his voice, his laughter echoed within the walls of the house in Khartoum North. His encounters with the passport officers or managers were narrated with all the nuances and colourful language that was characteristic of him. On warm Khartoum evenings after dinner, card games with Fr. Piero kept community life alive and filled the house with voices and joy. This was Fr. Piero, an enthusiastic missionary with a big and generous heart, open and ready to deal with any difficult situation with a smile and a pat on the back. In the 1990s, his health began to show signs of fatigue, so he had to return to Italy. We spoke on the phone; I don’t recall what his activity was, but I know from his words that his heart remained in Sudan in those villages in the Nuba Mountains where he had left the catechists to carry out pastoral activities.
Certainly now he is with Pope Francis who shared with him the “smell of the flock” and the teaching of an open and merciful Church.