We meet Djaïli Amadou Amal, in Paris, at the hotel where she is staying, near the Châtelet, a few weeks ago when her latest novel
Cœur du Sahel
(Emmanuelle Colas) has just been published in France.
It's the end of Ramadan, which she respects without too much difficulty despite the heat.
“The body has already adapted, we do it effortlessly.
We don't drink, we don't eat and… we don't have sex during the day!”,
she adds, suddenly lowering her voice in a tone, like a little girl saying a swear word, before bursting into laughter.
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Strange contrast.
Djaïli Amadou Amal, this fighter who deployed extraordinary energy to become what she is and to write, speaks in a small, almost childish voice.
And strong as she is, when she evokes certain painful memories, tears come to the surface and her voice - which has become, in Africa and elsewhere, a voice that carries - becomes even thinner.
As inversely proportional to his powerful determination.
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Djaili Amadou Amal: “The difference between my classmates, who remained submissive, and me, is that I had read”
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