A young black man with beard and suit, an opaque, beige suit. With a striped tie. This man looks at me for a long time, as if challenging me, as if to say: do not wait any longer. What did you think when you hid behind the house and it rained and you saw the moss? What did you think when you heard distant cries? When the land next door was filled with flames? You wondered if it was possible to change the world, if it was possible to reach those space lights that haunted you before you fell asleep. You liked to draw on some imaginary dunes and erase them, draw and erase them in a sort of frenzied hallucination. So you could calm down, you went into a trance where erasing gave you peace. This man, this bearded young man is there, he watches you, you are a child. You do not know what to say to him, you do not know if he hates you, if he repudiates you. You know, he’s waiting for you.
With Mour Fall at the Cheikh Anta Diop University (Dakar, Senegal)