As a kid I would travel to Abidjan every year to visit my family. It is the land of my bloodโthe only place in the world where people like me live. The fact that my family tends to treat me like a foreigner when I'm back there wasn't lost on me. But growing up in France, I was used to that treatment. Things changed when I went back at I now had the body of a woman and consequently, I had a whole lot of restrictions put on my everyday moves.
I couldn't meet my friends on my own, walk on the streets without male supervision or wear revealing clothes despite the burning heat. Abidjan is a lively, intense, multicultural city that barely sleeps. I felt like I was missing out by not enjoying my time there. One day, as we were driving, an aunt asked me to go and buy her a bottle of water in a shop.
I went to the shop and noticed that the security guard was following me. I thought he may think that I was stealing, so I made my way to pay. He kept staring at me, following me through the aisle. I got to the counter and paid for the bottle, slightly anxious. That's when he grabbed my back and starting hitting up on me.
I told him I was He didn't mind the slightest. He told me I was pretty and wanted my number. I told him I was in a hurry, packed the bottle and left the shop. When I turned around he was still following me, begging for my number. I looked for my aunt's car but couldn't find it. He cornered me in the street and I reluctantly gave him my number.
My aunt's car arrived and I jumped in with relief. When I told her what just happened, she told me with an aloof face: "Why are you complaining?
