Are you African ?

April 2019 | Addis Ababa Airport

Sometimes in life, you feel nothing, NONE facing the most credible mathematical equations. If we truly believe in the future of the African continent, we should outstrip the basic stigmatization around colour, ethnicity and gender.

When a black African interrogates you in the endless Ethiopian Airlines queue just because you're too white to be African, nay not African enough to his too sophisticated taste, you're supposed to justify your position, show your passport, say something . . . Otherwise, he will win his own game !

Because, on the other hand, he is a true African, a guaranteed version. But, on my hands ears, all what I had was the Africa map earrings to state something as I had nothing to prove.

Fortunately for me, or not, I had to skip the queue to board, the plane to Frankfurt was leaving in less than 15 minutes . . . 

None is out of danger !

When the smile revolution disturbs some corners, the terms of practicing finger-pointing get back on track as that woman at the boarding gate is given all the rights to judge you, to classify your profile as a case of study. While I was busy explaining that I only had transit through Frankfurt and that beloved Dzayer is my destination, she was sure that I was seeking the European experience.

«Shit ! Merde alors !» I shouted, deep inside of me, of course. «Your Europe is not on my bucket list.»

Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belt.
I relaxed on that seat, covered my face with the famous bluish yet greenish blanket and cried . . .   
I cried myself, my country and the continent.

Ladies and gentlemen,

Best regards to all of you !

To the wealth of my troubles,

my beautiful troubles !