This is an authorized translation in English of a post in French by @terresco: Rencontres avec l'Afrique - Le temps des échecs

^{As my primary language is not English, there are probably some mistakes in my translation.}

Remember that the person who speaks here is NOT me, Vincent Celier (@vcelier), but @terresco, a French guy.

Return to Ivory Coast

The life of my friend Juste had changed during the school holidays (see first part). The father of one of his friends had given birth to the idea of going to Europe in search of a better life. To the fantasies of this so-called adult, a few months later, Juste took the road, abandoned his life for a dream, the family had entrusted him with the tontine, money spared in common. He already had an immense responsibility, the obligation to succeed.

Filled with hope and optimism he first went to Abidjan to meet friends of friends who failed to help him very much, encouraged him in his way with donations, far too high for them, of a few Francs CFA. The road to exile is expensive, filled with enthusiastic departing prescribers who strangely stay at home.

He left, guessing that to go to Europe he had to go north. It is over several days, crossing Mali, that these plans have been refined. Smugglers spot candidates as instinctively as the child finds his mother's milk. The first smugglers intervened to cross the Sahara, a necessary and deadly step to access the Mediterranean.

First try

The first attempt was through Algeria. Juste suffered in northern Mali, crammed with 40 people in the back of a pick up under the crushing sun of the Sahara. Thieves, police, police and robbers, ransomers of all kinds, parasites enjoying the misery of others. Nights without sleep, diffuse worries. The route crosses endless desert areas, without landmarks, without shelter and especially without water. Accustomed to the rain forest, Juste was terrorized by this desert.

In the far north of Mali, approaching the border makes the situation even more complicated. The pick up has unloaded his human cargo, no way for him to take risks. They are told the direction of the north without telling them that they would find neither water nor food, for a long time. After two days, terrorized by this unknown environment, Juste and a traveling companion turned around. A good decision as the others, too brave or too badly informed have disappeared, absorbed by this desert that they may have underestimated.

Second try

Juste kept from this experience a panic fear of the desert. The desert is beautiful when you are prepared, when you cross it for pleasure. He refuses to retry his chance through the Libyan way. He chose to go to Senegal. Several months of travel, mostly on foot, depending on the fortunes and misfortunes of the track, rainy seasons, meetings. In Dakar he had to stop a few months to work.

From there he still had to cross Mauritania, more sand, but following the coast this time. Stopping to live for a while with the Imraguens of the Banc d'Arguin, he discovered fishermen with such special techniques, known to have help from dolphins to bring fish back into their net. Juste became a fisherman to make a living and continue his journey again and again.

A few months and many adventures later he is in Tangier. The candidates for departure are not welcomed there, it is necessary to wait. He ended up finding a boarding for Spain. A makeshift craft that would endangered his life and that of its passengers, but how to know when you do not know the sea and boats? Denounced, probably by the fake smugglers he had already paid, he will not even embark. The boat can be used for smugglers another time. He is arrested, imprisoned and later sent back to Abidjan in particularly difficult travel conditions.

* * * * *

More than four years after his departure, thousands of kilometers, having incurred many risks, he finds himself at his starting point. The desire to return to the village to see his family is as strong as you can imagine, but how to return without the money of the tontine, no news for 4 years and without shame with his family? Juste will not come back, he will try again as we will see that in the last part of this story.

* * * * *

The story is entirely in line with what Juste told me over the years together in Abidjan. I changed his name and the photo is that of another friend of the same age, made at the same time. He could have been another Juste, this friend, but chose another course. He made his life in the Ivory Coast, survived the bad years. I lost track of Juste in the years of war, often watching, even today, the Ivorian artists in case I see him appear one day. I hope he has also spent the dark years and found his way in his life.

-- @terresco

From Cape Town to Mombasa series:

Encounters with Africa: The time of failures, by @terresco (translated from French)

This is an authorized translation in English of a post in French by @terresco: Rencontres avec l'Afrique - Le temps des échecs

Remember that the person who speaks here is NOT me, Vincent Celier (@vcelier), but @terresco, a French guy.

First try

Second try

From Cape Town to Mombasa series:

All pictures are property of @terresco