Her name is Alimatou Mazar, and she wants to be drawn.
Of course, in few minutes it is crowded around us, and every child of the area wants a portrait.
Behind me, a boy whispers that is she has been chosen first, it is because she is white.
Alimatou looks behind, yells, closes the eyes and starts to fight.

Who is white, who is black ? This definition changes in every country.
The nuances of human skin's color are more varied than our vocabulary.
The blacks of the one's are the whites of the others, this is the absurdity of racism.