I had met him the other day while we where both stroling around on some backstreets. A man with not that many words.

He had left his home, The Comores, many years ago by taking a boat together with 8 other man to arrive at the coast of Madagascar four days later. A rough Journey. For at least one hour he said nothing. I kind of liked the fact that ‘we were silent’. Sometimes you don’t need words to express how you feel. Sometimes you don’t need to talk about the things you see and observe around you at the moment itself. For it makes you ‘see’ other things. A calm observant man in his late fifties. I could feel something had been broken inside of him. My eyes are at work. I suddenly see a dead butterfly lying on the sand, and as we where in our silent modus and me wanting to keep it that way, I make a gesture with my camera, lay my hand on his shoulder, and make the image. Nothing was said. Just the moovements. Us in the ‘outside’ world. After a while I wanted to return back to town. The wind was turning… And when we arrived to the spot where we first met, we stood still for a moment and smiled at each other. I broke the spell by thanking him for the silent walk.


He looked me in the eyes and said in a low smokey Jamaican kind of way, just one word. Just one.

” Oohwkeeej “



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