Your Holiness,

I am not a Christian. I am a Muslim, an engineer, and a witness.

It is in this last capacity that I write to you — not to seek your blessing, nor to shelter behind your authority, but because the duty to bear witness for justice recognises no confessional border, no hierarchy of suffering, no calculation of opportunity.

This verse does not ask me whether the moment is favourable. It does not ask whether I have the means. It says: bear witness. Even against yourself. Even alone. Even when you tremble.

I bear witness.

Your encyclical Magnifica Humanitas (15 May 2026) describes with prophetic precision what I have seen with my own eyes, counted with my own hands, and documented in my own invoices.

The main drivers of development are private, often transnational actors, endowed with resources and intervention capacities superior to those of many governments — a power essentially private, and therefore all the more difficult to identify, regulate, and direct toward the common good.

I submit their names:

These three entities are not tools. They are capture systems deliberately designed to transform dependency into debt, migration into punishment, and freedom into a priced privilege. They are the pharaohs of our digital age. Like the pharaohs of Egypt, they carry no whip — they carry contracts.

I have seen organisations forced to sign 36-month commitments, transforming a technical decision into contractual servitude. When needs change, the exit is priced as a transgression. The contract does not serve the client. It holds them captive.

I have seen data — the data of these peoples — taxed on exit at documented rates of +9,931% above market standards. Data does not belong to those who produced it. It belongs to those who hold it. And those who hold it charge for freedom.

I have seen technical architectures designed not to serve the user, but to render them incapable of leaving. Proprietary services, incompatible formats, cascading dependencies — chains built in code, invisible to the naked eye, but as real as iron bars.

This is not negligence. It is a deliberate architecture of capture. And those who suffer are not abstract corporations — they are engineers who lose their jobs when the invoice doubles, hospitals that cannot migrate their health data, governments that have surrendered their digital sovereignty.

"Technology takes on the face of those who design it, finance it, regulate it, and use it."

The face of these three actors is not that of service. It is that of extraction.

You have condemned the technocratic paradigm that "reduces creation to an object of exploitation and persons to cogs in a system that must be made ever more efficient."

I submit that this paradigm now has addresses, registration numbers, stock prices and PR teams. The Church has known, in other times, how to name slavery by its name — even when slaveholders were friendly powers and commercial partners. That courage cost it enemies. It also earned it its soul.

I ask for that same courage today.

Not to join my struggle — I seek neither institutional ally nor confessional endorsement. My independence is non-negotiable.

I ask you to name these practices for what they are: a contemporary form of economic enslavement. Name them. Not for me. For the millions who suffer without the words to say so.

I do not know whether this letter will reach you.

But I write it, because verse 4:135 gives me no choice. The witness who evades their testimony through calculation or fear becomes complicit in the lie they allow to prosper.

I have counted the bytes. I have read the contracts. I have published the figures. I have composed songs in twenty-eight languages. I have waged this asymmetric war at fifty euros a month.

I am not a saint. I am an engineer who refused to look away.