Les prières de Delphine (2021) - full transcript

We're starting now?
- Yes.

But don't worry.

It will be edited,
some stuff will be cut.

We just talk as usual.

If you want to take a break,
tell me,

I'll stop
and we'll pick up again after.

I know you'll be editing.

Grab a chair,
or I'll won't be able to relax.

I'll be on edge.

Have that one,
take off the cushion.

Take it
and come and sit down.



I don't want to stress out.

If you stay standing,
I can't feel natural.

You're gonna fall!

I want us to talk
like we did last time,

so I don't stress out.

Delphine's Prayers

Did you know your mother
before she died?

My mother died
when I was five.

How could I know her?

I didn't know her,
I was only five.

She was sick?

No, she died in childbirth.
The child was stillborn.

She lost too much blood.

Your little brother?
- Yes, the last one.



You know, Africans
make one baby after another,

without caring
for the ones they already have.

We lived from day to day.

They dragged us around
from one place to another.

My father dropped us off
all over the place.

That's the way life was.

Then the ordeal began.

Back then, the suffering
wasn't too great.

We suffered because we were hungry.

We had nothing to eat.

When we left for school,
we got no money for food.

Nothing,
we were just sent to school.

There was an old man
in the neighborhood

who gave us stale bread.

We were happy,
because we had nothing else.

We would take it to school
to eat at midday.

Everyone wanted
to go to school,

nobody wanted
to stay at home.

At home
there was nothing to eat.

My little brother
cried all the time.

My big sister
was still a child.

Around the age of 15 - 16,
she starting going with boys

to get money to feed us.

My sister came back pregnant.

I was thirteen
when she got pregnant.

Then she gave birth.

My father refused
to pay the hospital bill.

He abandoned her there.

He didn't want
another child in his home,

coming from out of the blue...

I cried when I saw my sister.

We really loved each other.

I cried at seeing her
all alone in that situation.

Nobody wanted to help her.

I went to my uncle.
He said to me:

"If you want me to help,
you have to sleep with me."

That was the condition.

Your uncle?
- Yes, my uncle.

Your father's brother,
or your mother's?

On my father's side.

I ran away from him.

My sister stayed
three months in hospital.

I had to find money.

I was going on fourteen
at that time.

I had nothing to wear,
I didn't know what to do.

I went to see a friend.

She told me: "Use your body
to get what you want."

I said to her:
"At my age?"

Thirteen years old.

"Come off it!
At my age?"

At that time,

there was a young man
in my neighborhood.

I was out walking
one evening.

And that's when...

That stupid, useless,
good-for-nothing son of a...

- I don't know what to call him -

took my virginity.

You were coming back
from the hospital?

I was coming back
from visiting my sister in hospital.

There was a bush near our house.

He took my virginity.

I went home crying.
My father was there.

I told him
what had happened to me.

He told me it was my fault.

I wept at his feet.

He said: "No, you're lying,

you gave yourself
to that young man."

He pushed me away:

"Look what your big sister did!"

That day,
I looked at my father...

I didn't know
who I was talking to anymore.

"Is that my dad I'm talking to?"

I was angry.

Furious.

My head was spinning.

I left.

I went to the shore
of River Wouri.

I washed myself there.

I went to my friend's place,
the one who was prostituting herself.

I went to see her,

to tell her I was ready.

"Right here, right now,
I'm ready!"

She said to me:

"This kind of stuff
makes little fish like you grow up."

I said: "This rape
has forced me to grow up.

I'm ready."

"You can't go like that.

Look at yourself.
Your clothes aren't clean."

I said:
"I don't have any others."

These are my best clothes.
I don't have any others."

She went to get me some clothes.

I chose some pants,
I put on a T-shirt.

Off we went...

She made a call,
two men arrived.

One of them suggested
we go for a drink.

I had a soda.
I didn't dare say a word.

The cat got my tongue,
I didn't say a word.

I was embarrassed,
I bowed my head.

When you're not used
to doing certain things,

you're not in your right mind.

One of the men said to me:
"Let's go, I'm ready."

The guy was older than my father.

I took refuge in the toilets, to cry.

I told him
I wanted to wash my face.

He heard me crying
and told me to come out.

He gave me some money
and told me to get dressed.

He didn't feel like it anymore.
I asked him why.

"Some other time,
I don't feel like it anymore."

I took his money
and gave it to my sister.

I didn't know
that I was already pregnant,

from the rape.

My sister decided
to go to Yaoundé

to look for work,
any work.

She left for Yaoundé
with her daughter, Yvette.

I loved that kid!

I loved her so much!

In Yaoundé, the little one got malaria.

My sister called me

to ask me to take her daughter
back to Douala.

She was living in a village
near Yaoundé.

I brought her back to Douala.

My sister was supposed
to send me money

to take her daughter
to Douala hospital.

I took her back to Douala,

hoping that my sister
would send me the money.

Two weeks went by.
I called her:

"I have no money,
my boss didn't pay me."

Next week, same story.
The child was getting worse.

I bought drugs on the street,

the way you do in Africa,

with the little money I had.

I took her to hospital.

They asked me for 15,000 francs
to treat her.

Where would I find that much money?

I didn't have 15,000.

I went to my big brother,
who was a sewing apprentice.

He said he'd ask his boss
for an advance.

His boss refused.

In the end, I told my sister
the hospital wanted 15,000 francs

to treat the child.

She said: "I have no money,
my boss didn't pay me."

I could hear in her voice
that she had no options.

I was alone with my niece
and she said to me:

"Aunty Dé, I'm going to die."

"No, you won't die.

Stay at home,
I'll be back."

I wanted to reassure her.

I showed her her milk.

"Eat when you get hungry.
I'll be back.

I'll get someone to look after you."
She said: "OK."

I left,
leaving her with my little brother.

I went out.

I had to find the money,
any way I could.

I prostituted myself.

I got the money.

I came back late in the night.

You do that sort of thing at night.

I got back late.

I passed the hospital,
the gate was locked.

It was the hospital
near my house.

When I got home, I lay
next to my niece in the bed.

I told her I would take her to hospital
first thing in the morning.

I wanted to reassure her.

She asked me: "Aunty Dé,
did you find the money?"

"Yes, look, here it is."

She said:
"Don't worry,

now that you've got the money,
I'll get better."

She asked me:
"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying,
I just have something in my eye.

Do you see it? Blow!"

She blew in my eye.

I said: "All better."
Then she said:

"Mummy didn't send any money?"

I said: "She says
she didn't get paid."

"Aunty Dé, don't cry.
You know I love you."

I said: "Yes, I know.

You're my favorite niece
in this house."

She said: "Aunty Dé,
don't worry,

everything will be fine now."

I said: "Yes."

She said: "Hold me."

I took her in my arms.

"Kiss me."
I kissed her.

She said: "I love you so much",

then she smiled,

she shut her eyes
and she died.

Six years old!

Just a little girl...

At first, I touched her
I thought she was asleep.

My brother came to see how she was.

He saw that she was dead
and took me out of the room.

I told my sister.

When she arrived,
she said:

"You killed my daughter."

She had seen the 15,000 francs
under the pillow.

She accused me of killing her child
to keep this money.

"What are you talking about?

Do you know what I did
to get that money?"

I didn't even get a chance to explain.
She slapped me.

Slapped me!

My other big sisters arrived.

They all beat me.

They said I was a witch:

"You joined a sect
and sacrificed your little niece

for 15.000 francs."

My dad said:

"I knew something fishy
was going on.

I just knew it."

I told my sisters:

"As God is my witness,
I have done nothing wrong."

I sat by my niece's body.

"Yvette, you know
I did nothing wrong.

You told me not to cry,
that everything would be fine.

Yvette, I didn't harm you.

My hands are clean."

I went out.

I stood before the people

who were gathered to mourn.

I shouted at my sister:

"You gave birth to your child

but I sold my body
to take care of her.

You see the money

I earned by selling my body

and you come and accuse me?

May God judge you all!"

I left the house
and I never went back.

I slept on the streets,
in the bush.

And where was your daughter?
- With me.

I said to myself:
"If I die, so be it."

I didn't go to my friend's place,
where I could have slept.

I'd had as much as I could take.

It was the last thing
I could have imagined.

I never thought
it could happen to me.

But as they say,

what has to happen, happens.

I started to work on the street
like crazy.

Selling my body...

That's how I met a European man.

We got together.

I rented a beautiful house.

Were you alone?

I was alone when I met him.

I met him in a bar.
He gave me lots of money.

Enough to rent a beautiful house
for me and my daughter.

Everyone who had called me a witch,

my own family,
who had rejected me, chased me off,

hit me,
dragged me through the mud,

came groveling,
asking me for food.

I'd buy a bag of rice and give it to them.
I gave them money.

To your sisters?
- They all came.

I gave without thinking.

When I no longer had enough money,

I rented a flat.

The house was too expensive.

I rented a little flat.

All that rancor
towards my father...

Let's drop it for now.
We'll talk about it next time.

Sit on the bed.

Wait...

My father sent me to my rapist

when he abandoned
his first daughter.

He sent you
to the man who raped you?

If he hadn't
abandoned my sister,

I wouldn't have left the house

to start looking
for money everywhere.

When I was clutching my father's foot,
groveling on the floor,

I said: "Dad, believe me,

he raped me."

And my father pushed me,
kicked me

with his big feet
I was grasping so tightly.

I was ready
to die at his feet.

I said:
"Kill me then.

You don't want to believe me."

I ran into the forest,
I touched the place I was bleeding

and I called out to the good Lord.

I said:

"Why?"

I asked God:
"Why?"

And I said to my father:

"I didn't ask you
to bring me into this world.

You make children

that you aren't capable
of looking after."

I said: "Why?"

That day, my sister...

My father really hurt me.

"You're just a slut,
like your sister."

He insulted me...

I looked at my body with disgust
and begged him:

"Dad, please.

Dad, please."

I remember those words,

like a sort of chant in my head.

"Dad, please."

My own useless father threw me out
with my daughter.

She is now 12,

and my father calls her
asking her to send him money.

My God!

We're in Europe,
we can't afford clothes,

and my father asks my 12-year-old daughter
to send him money.

I have no work.

If my father knew

that I sold my body
to send him money,

I'm not sure he'd accept it.

He has always despised me.

My dad told the whole neighborhood
that I was a whore.

Everyone called me a whore,
even in front of my daughter.

I started looking for a way
to escape the neighborhood.

I left my father's home,

I left my family.

After selling my body
to get treatment for my niece,

I was accused of having killed her.

It was the first time I sold my body.

I did it to get treatment
for my niece.

If you had seen the old man...

My God!

That old guy I slept with
to get the 15,000 francs...

It gives me goose bumps.

I washed my body over and over
with a sponge.

I couldn't cry
in front of the little one.

I clenched my teeth.

I became a mother
at the age of thirteen.

I don't know how
my mother didn't rise from her grave.

But...

I promised myself one thing.

"After all this suffering,

my little brother
won't suffer like me.

I'll send him to school."

My father said:
"You'll never do it."

I said to him: "Liar!
You're not God."

I said to my father:

"You couldn't do it,

but I, your second to last child,
I will do it."

He couldn't imagine
that I'd be here today.

He had already predicted my death.

I am not dead.

I'm still here.

Now that I'm here,
I can bear witness.

I tell people
what I've been through.

I tell my friends
to appreciate what they've got.

Lots of friends hope
for a different life.

Before, I didn't tell them
what I'd been through.

I couldn't talk about it
to anyone.

Now, I've decided to talk about it,

to get people thinking.

The suffering I feel
has horns.

I'll open the door.

That's enough for today.

Coming!

Coming!

I'm here.

It's done.

Finished!

OK, tell me what
we're talking about today.

Let's get down to business.

That's why we're here, right?

That's what we're doing.

People need to think
what we're doing is serious.

You know, when we were
working on the streets...

We were real "wakas",
as they say in Cameroon.

We walked along the side of the road,
we had no set spot

where we would stand.

We just walked along
the road.

Not like some girls
here in Belgium.

We'd walk,
all dressed up.

We chose a big avenue,

we pretended we were
going somewhere.

That way cars would stop
and offer to take us.

That's how it went down.

No precise place.

Sometimes,
I'd meet someone

who would take me for a drink
then we'd leave...

You know, there are
night clubs in Douala

where the girls turn tricks,
like the Kwassa Kwassa.

If you want to meet a white guy,
you go to the Byblos,

you could go to...

I've forgotten the names
of all those clubs.

There are places
like the Mediterranée,

in Akwa,
where all the Whites go.

If you want to meet a white guy,
you go there.

You can go for a drink there
or stand at the entrance.

But that's mostly
for the professional hookers.

Some are at the entrance,
others at the bar,

they have a drink.

Those who come for girls
know to go there.

We did things our own way.

We were four friends.

Jackie, Pauline, Céline...

We all worked the streets.

When Céline met a white guy

she introduced us to the city center.

Thanks to her, we started
going to the city center.

They were all with Whites.

Naively, I thought

they would get married
within weeks

and leave Cameroon.

But I'm the one who left.

I left them
and they're still over there.

Today they're married,
they don't do that any more.

How did you meet him?

We just met up.

I was walking in the street.

I don't remember where I was coming from.
I was alone that night.

I was working in a restaurant

near the new road.

I was coming back from work,
my boss hadn't paid me.

That's when I saw him,
drinking a glass of water.

He had choked on his smoke.

As I passed him,

he invited me to have a juice
because it was very hot.

I sat down,
and that's how it started.

Nothing happened that day.
I went home.

Then he invited me out to eat.

That's how we
got to know each other.

I can't give you details,
that's my secret.

I'm the only one
who knows the details.

You don't want to tell me?
- They're my details.

They're my little secret,
they make me happy.

The first time
my visa was refused

really made me mad.

I went...

I was summoned
for an interview.

I went there.

The woman from the Belgian embassy
spoke to me in French.

Here's what she said.

She said: "Madam,
if you go to Brussels,

and you think Belgium
is a nice place,

will you stay there,
or come back here?"

That's the trick question
for tourist visas.

I said: "Excuse me,
you, who live in Cameroon,

if you go to a better place,
would you come back?

If it's better over there,
I won't come back."

She wanted me to lie.
I didn't lie.

If you leave poverty
and go towards wealth,

you stay there!

She stamped it,

she refused my visa,
full of rage.

Then she called me back
for another interview.

I was pregnant, I did all I could
for her to notice.

I wore a kaba,

but you don't see a pregnancy
when the belly is still small.

I tied my kaba at the back.

I wore my pagne like this.

The kaba was a bit like this dress.

I tucked my kaba
into my pagne.

I arranged the pagne like this.

Wait, I'll show you!

See? Tied like this,
you can see the belly well.

And I put more clothing
over my belly.

And I walked like this.

That way, she would get it.

And I said:

"Madam, if you refuse
to give me a visa again,

I'll leave this mixed-race child
on the embassy doorstep."

When my turn came,
she said to me:

"Come back tomorrow,
we're very busy."

I said: "What?!"

I didn't even speak French that day.

"Speak Pidgin
or don't speak at all,

because I can't explain
this situation in French."

"I'm going nowhere!

I've been here since this morning,

and at 2 pm you tell me

to go home,
in my condition."

I lay down on the ground.

I said: "Madam,
I'm going to sleep here."

I live in Douala,
this is Yaoundé.

I paid to sleep in a hotel.

I'm not leaving here
until I have my visa."

Ten minutes later,
I had my visa.

I arrived at the airport in Belgium.

The Whites were traumatized
by "monogamous option"

on a marriage certificate,
written in red.

Why traumatized?

He took me into his office
and saw "monogamous option" in red pen.

I didn't speak good French

and he didn't understand,
I used "R" in the wrong place

not where it should be.
I didn't even use "R"s.

He took me into his office

and started asking me
stupid questions.

I answered
his stupid questions.

He asked me: "What is
the color of the sheets

where you made love with your husband
for the first time?"

I said: "Mister,

isn't that a very personal question?"

I thought it was all sorted.

Years later, it became...

I was summoned all the time.

A summons here,
a summons there.

They called me in, accusing me
of a sham marriage.

What's a sham marriage?

It's not all black and white.

A Black and a White
got married.

It's all the same.

A Black and a White marry,

is it all black
or all white?

It's all black for the black girl.

When you saw him
for the first time,

did you love him?

I don't want to talk about it.
There was no love involved.

What’s your take on it?

You know there was no love
in that relationship.

I wanted to leave, to flee
the way I was living.

And I left.

You can't hurt
someone who has helped you.

I told myself
I would give him two children.

I will never abandon my children
to find happiness elsewhere.

I have sacrificed my happiness
for my children.

I stay for my children,
I've sacrificed everything for them.

There's no love in this marriage.
Everyone knows that.

My youth...

When I see photos from back then,
I am so cross.

You know?

When I look at these pictures...

Where are they?

I get so angry.

Sometimes I think:
"Look how beautiful you were!

If only your father
hadn't neglected you."

Look at this girl.

Look how young I was here

and compare my height
with that of my daughter...

Imagine.

This is my little girl.
She comes up to my waist.

Look at my face,
I was still a child.

Look at this child that an old man
came asking to marry.

May God punish him!

An old man
who wanted to marry me.

He watched me
when I went to work at the cabaret.

He brought palm wine.

5 liters of palm oil.

He brought all that
to the house,

and pagnes,
pagne fabric.

All that to marry this kid.

In your mind, you imagine
beautiful things for yourself.

The way you imagine your life,

when you will live elsewhere.

You see only beautiful things.

You imagine
what your life could be.

Then disappointment
comes knocking at your door.

If you open, in it comes.

And when it enters, it stays.
It never leaves.

No way out,
no escape.

Disappointment!

It's a bad thing.

So foolish!

Disappointment is not good.

Disappointment can make you do
things you're not supposed to.

My husband sulks.

He hasn't sulked enough yet.

He can sulk
until his mouth freezes.

I don't have time
for such stupidity.

I don't have a milisecond
for that kind of stuff.

Such nonsense!

Let him sulk!

I'm not going to ask him why!

Let him sulk.

When we get a little peace,

instead of enjoying it and smiling,
he gets cross.

Well, he can carry on!

When I act
like everything is fine,

he can't imagine
the worries on my mind.

When I decide to talk to him about it,

he doesn't listen.
He treats me like a child.

So why would I talk to him?

I want to talk to an adult.

I speak to him
hoping he will listen,

not for him to shout at me

as if I was his little sister.

Some people come to your rescue
when you have problems.

They say they want to help you.

You accept.

But instead of soothing you,
they push you down.

Why?

OK, you think
there's been a misunderstanding.

When two people
are from different cultures,

you don't know
how the other person lives,

what their habits are.

Each person has their own way of living,
their own story.

He knows where he's from,
I know where I'm from.

I have my story,
he has his.

Why does he want me
to abandon my culture and join his?

You can't just wipe out
years of personal experience.

You can't change
at a snap of the fingers.

It's impossible.

If you want a person to improve,
you have to treat them well.

If you don't know how,
get informed,

find out how to treat
someone who comes from elsewhere.

I didn't go to school,
so he thinks I'm not intelligent.

I didn't go to school,
I haven't read any books,

I don't know how
to use a dictionary.

I don't go to the library.

I haven't read a whole library,
I admit it.

But I am intelligent.

I get people!

And what's more,
I'm a mother.

Without me,
he wouldn't have any children.

Being illiterate
doesn't mean I'm stupid.

I'm not stupid.

I didn't go to school,
but I'm not stupid.

I have common sense,
I have the brain God gave me.

Nobody can take that from me.

I have my own way
of looking at life.

Not going to school

doesn't mean I can't see
what isn't just.

I see.

And when I see it,
I act.

I'm a professional actress,
a gift God gave me.

I don't play a role
in films or on TV

but I act in my own life.

I act decisively

so that the other person
will understand.

He doesn't understand,
he thinks it's all about him.

I'm not 60, 50,
70 or 80 years old, like him.

I lost my young years
for nothing.

Now, I'm thirty years old.

I can't go on
living like this.

It's no longer possible.

I'm not stupid,
I won't let myself be manipulated.

I have common sense,
I have a good brain.

I have a mind of my own.

When I was born did I have:
"Will suffer forever" written here?

Do you see that on my face?

Is something written
on my forehead?

"Will suffer forever"?

I have nothing more to add
to your journal today.

We'll talk of other things tomorrow.

We're done for today.

Nobody will stop
this story from being told.

Not as long as I'm the pilot
of this plane.

This plane flies over all countries,

it will not crash.

If it is struck by lightning,
hands and feet will grow on it.

And wings.

If you flap your wings,
roll three times,

you dive,
but then you make it.

I was told I wouldn't make it.

I'll make it.

Re-read the journal.
What shall we do?

How are you today?

Fine.
Can't you see?

Doesn't the dance I just did for you
prove that?

Can't you tell?
- Yes, I can.

I'm just fine.

Journal, do you want to know
how I fell in love?

You fell in love?
Tell me!

Of course!
What do you imagine?

The life I've led
doesn't stop me loving.

I fell in love
with a Frenchman in Cameroon.

We were together around...

How did you meet?

I was grilling corn.
We met there.

I was tired of walking the streets.

I bought some corn
and grilled it on the roadside.

You stopped turning tricks?
- Yes.

I was grilling corn,
my clothes were dirty.

My hair was a mess,
full of ash.

You should have seen
the beautiful girls,

getting all dressed up
when they saw the white man.

Especially when they found out
he was single.

They would parade
back and forth in front of him.

He didn't see them.
He chose

the girl grilling corn
on the side of the road.

The way he loved me,
it wasn't just a fling.

Imagine a well-to-do man
coming to our house.

Whites on holiday
are afraid of our neighborhood,

they stay in beautiful villas.

He came to sleep
on a squeaky bed...

He slept in that bed,
just to be with me.

That's how I knew he loved me.

He came to sleep where?
- At my father's.

A wooden shack.

Surrounded by mosquitoes.

He'd wake up and slap them off,
but he stayed.

I knew he loved me!

He came to my place
during the floods,

when the water was up to here.

He walked through
that disgusting water

to come and see me.

Never mind all the beauties
in the city center,

he came to get me
during the floods.

He loved me.

If a man does that,
it means he loves you.

He'd go back and forth
to Europe,

then come back to see me.

When a person gets off the plane

then comes straight
to see you,

it means he loves you.

Even before dropping off
his luggage,

he'd tell his driver
to come and pick me up.

He brought me gifts.

Clothes, shoes, jewellery...

He even bought me nail polish.

American polish.

A youngster.

He was 29 or 30.

Good-looking fellow.

I swear, he was cute.

We were together
for the six months he was in Cameroon.

He stayed six months in Cameroon?
- Yes.

Then he came back for five months.

Then he left again
for the third time.

The second time he returned,
he brought me a ring.

An engagement ring.

He asked me to marry him.

After he gave me the ring,

he left for four years.

It was tough.

He came back.
I was married and pregnant.

I remember that day.

I'll never forget it.

He called me from
a Cameroon number.

He asked me to join him
at the Royal Palace.

I didn't recognize him.
"Who are you?"

He told me his name.

I didn't know that number.

He said to me:
"It's me, Blondon."

"What are you doing here?"

I was pregnant.

My belly was big.
How could I explain?

I had a wedding ring.

He'd been gone four years.

I had to carry on with my life.

I met my husband.
He gave me a ring too.

I looked at the two rings.

"The first guy came,
then went away again..."

So I made my choice.

Rosine, if I'd been patient,
I wouldn't have suffered like this.

I would be in love.

I would live with my real husband,
a good person.

Africans want everything,
right now.

They want to swallow
without chewing first.

I was in too much of a rush,
my sister.

Do you still have this T-shirt?
- No.

Idiot, you should have kept it,
as a souvenir.

We did each other's plaits.

Where did you buy that T-shirt?

At Papy's place.

A Pakistani place
in the shopping gallery.

I bought two,
red for you and black for me.

That day, I said to you:

"You wear this, I'll wear that one,
that way we're twins."

We did a lady's hair here that day.

I kept it for a long time.

This one comes from Papy's place too.

I paid 5 euros for it.

You tried this one,

but the sleeves were too short.

But this one fit you.

I tied Dominique
on my back.

Look at his teeth!

Rosine, look at you
in this photo.

How old were you?
16?

Sticking out your behind like that.

You took those photos.
- I know.

I had a camera.

The date isn't correct.

Since 19...

2008.

March 28th, 2008.

I remember,
you posed like that.

Has Geof seen this photo?

Has your husband seen it?
You were a young girl.

It was over there.

Look how empty this place was.

You could move around.

Not any more,
it's full of clutter.

Look how empty it was.

You could stand up
and take photos.

Rosine strikes a pose...

You posed.

That day, we did braids
for 30 euros and shared the money.

We went to the phone booth

and called our families.

We were full of joy
with our 15 euros.

There was much joy
in our hearts that day.

I remember.

Are you filming all that?

Is it rolling?

We were full of joy.

Rosine was wearing a big smile,
she had earned 15 euros.

My little brother
has called me again.

That boy doesn't give me
a moment's peace.

Look at all these calls.

Thank God my phone
is on silent mode.

The problem he has right now
is because of me.

But I don't have any money.

What problem did you cause him?

I told him to take a loan
and buy a computer.

The lender is pressing him
to pay back the loan.

He's paying back in small installments,
as agreed.

Now, the lender
wants it all back at once.

That's why he called me this morning.

The guy is pressuring him
and it bugs him.

He doesn't want problems
with the guy.

I told him
to make him wait.

He knows I'm sick right now.

He doesn't want to bother me.
He got angry with the guy.

I told him to tell him
to wait a week.

I'll see what I can sell here.

When it comes to my little brother,
I don't mess around.

I must find
something to sell.

When I've found the money,
I'll be able to rest.

This thing makes my head ache.

My little brother
is a source of worry for me.

I have to work something out.

Looks like it's going to be a nice day.

The sun is hiding.

I don't trust this Belgian sun.

When it comes with wind,
it can sweep you off to Maroua.

One day when we were going
to a night club,

we hailed a taxi
but he couldn't take us tothe door

because there were works
in the street.

You remember that old street.

It was all bumpy in the taxi...

The taxi couldn't get up the street.
He dropped us off.

We got out.

There was a guy behind us,
I looked back.

I said to my friend:

"That guy behind us
looks pretty shady.

Let's take another street.

We'll separate. You go that way,
and I'll go this way."

"Don't worry,

perhaps he's just a client."

"A client with muscles like that?

D'you want to die?
I intend to live."

As I looked back,

my heart told me
something was about to happen.

I wanted to cross the street,

and the guy intercepted me
with a big knife.

Even Ali Baba
doesn't have such a big one.

This long...

"Get back together!"

We join up again
and he pushes us forward.

I start to beg him:

"Big brother,
we are your little sisters."

"Join up! That way!"

We went with him.

There was an abandoned car.

He took us

behind that car.

"Give me money!"

I told him I didn't have any.

"All I have is a few coins
for the taxi."

My friend gave him
the money she had.

I was wearing a necklace.

I told him: "Take this,
it's worth a lot."

I gave it to him.

He said:
"Get undressed!"

"Excuse me, boss?

Don't say I didn't warn you:

take a good look at me,
I have level 10 AIDS.

You fuck me,
at your own risk."

My friend asked him
to wear a condom.

He said: "I don't eat a sweet
with the wrapper on."

I said: "Boss,

I don't care how you eat it,

but I advise you to wear two condoms
before you fuck me,

because I have level 10 HIV.

I've warned you.
It's your choice."

I start to undress.

"No, don't bother!
I'll do your friend."

That evening,
my friend said to me:

"We're friends and you never told me
you had that disease?"

"What disease? Are you crazy?

Did you think
I'd do it for free?

And risk getting a disease?"

She was dumbfounded.
"Of course I lied."

The next day,
I saw our aggressor.

Where?
- In the street.

Near a woman
grilling corn and meat.

He was buying corn and meat
with our money!

Tell me what's in the journal.

Today in the journal, there is...

"Your father now".

It's been a while since I left.

How many years has it been?

One, two, three, four, five,

six, seven...

Seven and a half years
I've been away from my family.

I haven't seen him.

I don't know
what he's like today.

I know he's good deep down.

The only thing
that bothers me about him

is that he only calls me
to ask for money.

Ever seen a Cameroonian...

to ask how you are?

But if he needs something,
he'll call:

"Call me back!"

You call back,
thinking there's some problem,

but he just wants
to ask for money.

You regret calling back.

"What got into me?"

I can't describe my father.

He's always wanted to have money,

but when he had any,
he wasted it.

Now he has nothing.

He was a bricklayer.

He looked for work all day.
I felt sorry for him.

He lived like a man
without children.

If I was rich,

I would build him a house.

I would find someone
to cook for him.

These days, he's just scraping along.

I can't make myself hate him.

I just can't.

I reckon
he acted without thinking.

Some people don't realize
the impact of their actions.

If he had known
the consequences of his actions,

he wouldn't have acted that way.

I suppose he thinks
that if he could go back in time,

he would do things differently.

Anyone can tell themselves that.

Lots of people say:

"If I could go back in time,
I'd organize my life better."

Even prisoners must think that.

Murderers must tell themselves that.

I'll show you!

You offer them a beer
and they say:

"She's been in Europe
for 7 years,

she comes back and all we get
is a fruit juice.

She can't even buy us
a big Guiness."

They don't even know
if you have enough money.

They don't care.

"She doesn't even give us
10,000 francs to help us out."

Do I work at the bank?

Does the bank belong to me?

"My sister!"

They put on
their hypocritical smile:

"You left without telling us.

We would have taken you
to the airport.

You are lucky."

They kill me.

Is that what it's like
when you go back to Cameroon?

When they talk about you...

If people talk about you...

You start thinking
how you can avoid them.

You don't yet hear
what they say about you.

You know they're talking about you
from 5 meters away.

You get close
and they all stop talking.

"Hey, girl!
How are you?"

Flattered, you reply,

not knowing that the second before
they were calling you names.

When you move on,
they start badmouthing you again.

One will say:

"Europe suits her,
her skin is shiny."

When I walk around
my childhood neighborhood,

all the boys who insulted me

and called me all sorts of names

go: "Big sister!""

They get excited,
hoping you'll give them money.

"Big sister!"

"Fuck off!

'Big sister'? Do you remember
what you used to call me?

Sharon Stone!
Idiot! Moron!

Keep calling me Sharon Stone."

Some called me "Mama G".
"G" for general.

I didn't mind that.

"Just carry on calling me names,
'cos you're not getting my money!"

When I get there,
it's Christmas.

"Big sister! It's Christmas!
Throw!"

Shall I grab you,
throw you in the air?

Where should I throw you?

Am I some sort of launch base?

I get to some spot
in the neighborhood

and see an old papa
sitting on his doorstep.

"Mister Boniface's daughter is here.

I wonder when she's going
to build a house for her father."

Over there, you know,
your life's in danger.

"Isn't she ashamed
when she sees her father?

She lives in Europe, right?

Isn't she ashamed?

Can't she do something?"

Here, I don't have
money for food

and there they ask me
to build a house.

They come up to you
and say:

"My girl, you came this year!

You are pretty!
Your children are cute!"

They give you some bread.

Put it under your arm,
don't eat it, whatever you do.

"I'll eat it later."

You throw it
in the first trashcan you see.

You can imagine their intentions
behind their fake smiles.

I know those people
in Cameroon.

Sister, if you listen
to what people say,

you go mad
before your time.

You lose your mind.

You mustn't listen to them.

Nobody can live
here in Belgium without work

I have no one by my side,
and even if I did,

if they don't have money,
how can they help?

I want to show my husband
that I can cope on my own.

Sometimes I get up in the morning
and go looking for work.

I look for hours,

I hand out my CV
in shops.

I use what God gave me
to get a little money.

I still turn tricks here.

It's part of my life
here in Belgium.

It's my life.

If I had imagined that,
I never would have come.

I'd never have come
to the Whites' paradise.

There is only suffering here.

I came here for a better life.

Everyone says that.

Some borrow money to get here,

but when they do,
they discover the reality.

They don't give up,

they look for work
to get by.

It's useless!

They're scared to return
to Africa empty-handed

and be a laughing stock.

But I'm not afraid.

I'm not ashamed
to go back to square one.

If people mock me,
it doesn't matter,

at least I went for it,
I tried.

Wait, I'm ready.

Is it foundation,
or fund?

You know what "fund" means in our language?
- No.

It's the vegetable
we eat with fufu.

You know fufu?
Couscous flour. Maize.

Is that white people's "fund"?

It's white balance.
- Balance?

What balance?

The Blacks', or the Whites'?
You pick.

Which one?
- I don't know.

I need to shut up,
so we can get on.

You can take it down.

I can?
- Yes.

Thank God.
May he bless you.

So much suffering for white balance.

Some people are afraid of death.

Not me.

Human beings are dust.

We are dust,

we return to dust.

As my mother died,
did she leave a message for her children?

Or did she just say:
"I'm sorry."

Did she have the strength to say:

"God, don't let this
happen to me."?

I imagine dying
and meeting my mother.

I would ask her
loads of questions.

When you die,
do you see certain people again?

You can't know before you die.

You have to trust
what people say.

Do hell and heaven really exist?

Or does everything stop
when you die?

Is there truly a spirit
within us?

A spirit that lives within?

Does your soul leave you

and see how they care for your body?

Does your soul
go to hell or heaven?

Do we really have a destination?

I ask you,
what is your destination?

I wonder.

Look at those youngsters,
22, 18, 16,

some of them 4.

Some don't grow up,
they die.

What was their role?

Father, do this for me.

Don't leave me like this,
I beg you.

You are my husband,

the greatest of men.

Don't leave me like this,
I beg you.

I got married
without your agreement.

I wasn't in love,
I have made bad choices.

I beg you, forgive me.

If that is what I did wrong,
forgive me.

I beg you.

And for all the other things
I have done,

I beg you, forgive me!

I beseech you, act!

If it is because I have slept
with different men all my life,

I beseech you, Father,
forgive me.

If that's why
I don't have any work,

forgive me
and give me work.

I won't do it any more.

OK, I have a proposal.

I will fast.
That's my proposal.

I will fast for six days,

so that you change my situation,

so my life
is like other people's.

It's not to be like others.

It's about my children.

I myself need your forgiveness.

I beg you!

I know I messed up.

I should have resisted.

I messed up big time.

It makes me suffer,

it's too much suffering.

All that crying,
all that pain,

all the abandonment.

No school, no money,
no nothing.

Everyone I asked for help
wanted to sleep with me.

I beg you, if that's why,
forgive me.

I beg you.

I've never begged you so much, Father.

You are my sole support.

Holy Father, forgive me.

This suffering is too much.

How long can I keep
asking others for food?

Stop this suffering

so that I too
can give to others.

I'm not bad.

God, I'm not bad.

I was abandoned.

God!

The way your own people
treat their peers.

Abandonment.

I have tried to survive.

My father said:

"Every man for himself."

I can no longer live like this.

I have killed no one.

I wanted to help,

but I made the wrong choices.

Nobody helped me
make the right choices.

I didn't want all this!

If I had known,
I wouldn't have made those choices.

Oh God,

if I could change everything,
I would.

I don't want to think about it anymore.

If I could erase everything,
I would.

Forgive me.

Forgive me,
give me work!

Father, I beg you,
give me work.

Father, I have changed,

I have children,
I don't want to live like this anymore.

Look at this beautiful house!

I'll take everything I have

to beg you
to change my life.

I can't take this any more.

Look at my life,
I'm still young.

Look at how people treat me.

This isn't the life
you intended for me.

I know I fucked up,
I messed up.

I should have waited!

But God,
I asked you for a sign,

and you have given me none.

That's why I messed up,
did any old thing.

Father, I've ruined my life.
Please, change everything.

Don't abandon me!

I'm so sorry.

This mouth is not clean.

God, I wish
you would purify my body.

Do it for months,
until it's clean.

Change my life!

Give me work,

even if I'm only paid 5 euros,
I'll take it.

I'll do it happily,
if it comes from you.

I don't have dirty hands,
I have caused no harm.

I'm not totally innocent,
I sold this body,

which people say
is the temple of God.

I sold it.

If that's why, forgive me.

I beg you...

The suffering is too great,
I can't take it any more.

If it's for all I've done,
forgive me.

If that's what has offended you,
forgive me.

If it's something I don't know about,
I'm sorry.

Mom, please,
help me to ask for forgiveness.

I have done nothing wrong,
help me ask for forgiveness.

I don't want to live
like this any more.

I don't know
if you're in hell or heaven.

If you're in hell,

come back to help me
ask for forgiveness.

Beg him to pardon me.

Don't leave me here like this, Mom.

Ask forgiveness for me,
do it for your child.

Join hands with me

so we have more strength
to implore with.

I didn't want my sister
to go to prison.

I didn't want that.

I was just passing
in front of that bush.

I didn't ask to be raped.

I just wanted to help.

I asked my uncle for help,

I asked my father,
my neighbors.

Nobody wanted to help me.

I begged, I implored...

That's what I do.
I beg.

The children are here,
I don't want to cry in front of them.

The Lord makes possible
what seems impossible.

He has given me joy in my life.

The Lord has given me
joy in my life.

He has given me joy in my life.

Everybody come join me
and praise the Lord.

You made me promises
and you never forget your promises.

He promises
and he fulfils his promises.

That is why
he's worthy of my praise.

He has given me
joy in my heart.

The Lord has given me
joy in my heart.

He has given me
joy in my heart.

Everybody come join me
and praise the Lord.

Do you want to smoke before we start?

I know you'd like me to smoke,

but we can go ahead.

Let's go over there to film.

Can you look at me
without speaking?

I don't understand.
- Look at me.

I'm looking at you.
- Don't speak.

OK, I'll be quiet.

How many times have we sat here,
to braid each other's hair,

or that of our clients?

How many times
have we ended up here

to keep each other warm

when winter fog
brought on loneliness,

memories of family.

How many times
have we laughed about our culture,

or this new culture
we were getting to know,

imagining that one day
all would go well for us here?

In Cameroon, we were at opposite ends
of the cultural spectrum,

each assigned their place.

We would never have met there.

The West forced our meeting
by reducing us to the color of our skin.

Here, we are only Black
and African.

Leaving tested
everything that gave us strength:

our certainties, our ideas,
our vision of the world.

Leaving gave us the strength
to tell our story.

Before, I would have ignored you,
judged you, as I had been taught to do.

Today, I look at you,
I see you.

Here, we dare to stand together.

Your bravery has revealed
the fractures of our traditions.

Your audacity highlights
that which is left unsaid in the West,

the dominance,
perpetuated in other forms.

Your strength brings back to life
all those ignored women

who left carrying their pain.

Your courage forces us

to see those who wander around
here and elsewhere,

asks us to hear their moans,

and listen to their cries.

Subtitling:
Tongues Untied