This is an authorized translation in English of a post in French by @terresco: Rencontres avec l'Afrique - Là où née une envie d'ailleurs

^{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.

Juste (a fake name I just baptized him) was our friend. A little musician, a little gardener, mechanic from time to time, talkative, friendly and resourceful. Juste, about 35 years old, lived in the Ivory Coast, his home country, in the early 90's. Like many, he was a dreamer who went through life with humor and hope.

Abidjan in those years was bubbling with energy. The economic capital was also cultural, music played an important role, the rhythms came from Central Africa but the local musicians were looking for their own style. Like many others, Juste composed a little, played occasionally. Small groups and solo attempts, barely paying for food, a little alcohol and tobacco, Juste dreamed every day of a career similar to Alpha Blondy, the historical icon of Ivorian music.

Some have succeeded, like Magic System or Tiken Jah Fakoly. Juste did not have this chance but was doing his best. As many of the events of 1999 took him by surprise, jostled his dream and complicated an already difficult life.

It's not that period of life that's just the most interesting, it's the beginning of his adult life. To understand his story you have to go back a bit, back to his childhood.

* * * * *

Where was born a desire to go elsewhere

He was born in the center of the country, in the middle of the coffee and cocoa plantations that made the relative wealth of Ivory Cast. His father was harvesting cocoa as a farm worker, hard work and low pay but that allowed him to provide his mother enough to feed, with great cunning, his large family. African mothers, like all mothers in the world, are capable of miracles for their families.

Every year Juste just waited for the return of the classes with impatience. He loved school, he was curious and intelligent, he had friends. National education at that time depended on the dates of the cocoa harvest. The payment of the workers who allowed them to buy the notebook, the pen and the uniform required for the new school year. If the harvest shifted, the re-entry was postponed.

Juste had a friend, Aboubakar, whose father had gone to work in France. Aboubakar always had the most beautiful sneakers and school equipment of the class. He wore clothes that his father brought back to him during his visits, every two or three years, clothes not found locally. Juste talked a lot with Aboubakar about the life of his father, a Parisian doctor with a nice car and a big house. He would have his family come to Paris as soon as possible. Yet Aboubakar was still there, year after year, to the somewhat selfish satisfaction of Juste who did not want to see his friend go away. That summer the prodigal father was to visit him.

He arrived at the wheel of a Mercedes bought second hand in Abidjan. " What a country!" In which he could not find the last model already released in France for at least two years. He was wearing a dark suit that was inconvenient due to the heat, dust, and tired air conditioning of his vehicle. He sweated profusely, an indispensable sacrifice for his status as a French doctor. He only spent a few days in the village, his responsibilities were calling back to France. A few days where he spent what seemed fortunes, showing his rich life in France.

Juste spent his days at his friend's house, dreaming of Paris, pretty women in their evening dresses, easy money, cars and beautiful clothes. Drinking the words as thirsty dream. These few days have changed his life: as soon as the doctor left, Juste made his plans for departure.

Unlike Juste, you must have understood, the doctor was not a doctor. He was probably living in a suburb of Paris, sharing a tiny apartment with 4 or 5 others. He worked hard, was paid the minimum wage, could have been badly treated by his boss. He deprived himself so that he could return every two or three years with his head held high, showing a false success. He probably did not realize that, to preserve his honor, he gave great illusions to young people. Illusions that were going to have important consequences in many lives.

* * * * *

Juste left some time later and we will see in the next article that it was not easy. He traded his life in the village against an adventurer's life. A slice of life of ten years, a life for a dream.

* * * * *

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 Ivory Coast, survived the bad years. I lost track of Juste in the war years, often watching, even today, the Ivorian artists in case I see him appear one day. I hope he has also survived the dark years and found his way in life.

-- @terresco

01: Encounters with Africa: Ivory Coast, by @terresco
02: Encounters with Africa: Abidjan, a daily pleasure, by @terresco
03: Encounters with Africa: The Tuaregs of Agadez, by @terresco
04: Encounters with Africa: The Tuaregs of Agadez, part 2, by @terresco
05: Encounters with Africa: On the way to the Dogon country, by @terresco
06: Encounters with Africa: Among the Dogon of Bandiagara, by @terresco
07: Encounters with Africa: The Gold Coast, by @terresco

From Cape Town to Mombasa series:

Encounters with Africa: Where was born a desire to go elsewhere, by @terresco (translated from French)

This is an authorized translation in English of a post in French by @terresco: Rencontres avec l'Afrique - Là où née une envie d'ailleurs

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

Where was born a desire to go elsewhere

From Cape Town to Mombasa series:

All pictures are property of @terresco