World through My Eyes My first trip to Africa

While Annette and I were in the garden, a young black lady, her skin dark and shiny as ebony, entered the yard. She cast a look around, glancing briefly at us and then disappeared somewhere. However, some time later, she emerged from the room of the old Frenchman whom we’d seen the day before, hanging off his arm. Well, the geezer was certainly busy. I tried not to jump onto any conclusions even if it was pretty difficult not to. In fact, I tried not to give them any thoughts, apart from admitting that she was really pretty. I sought to draw the rest under the common denominator of none-of-my-business. But Annette didn’t have such qualms. As an African, she must’ve touched in a different way than I was. I would say she was more sensitive to it than me.
„She came here for money,“ she said flatly.
„How do you know?“ I asked. Even if I had guessed as much myself.
„I can tell,“ she marched on. „African girls often do it.“
„But not all,“ I attempted to rise in defence of local ladies.
„No, not all,“ she agreed. „But some do. This one did.“
And then, an obvious question was how much they charged it. I hoped Annette wouldn’t get the wrong idea and think I was seeking info on local price list. I was honestly only curious to hear how much – or little – a local girl could be desperate to sell herself for. As my curiosity was stronger than fear of being misunderstood, I said:
„I wonder how much she asks for it.“
„Maybe ten thousand,“ Annette said without hesitation. Now, it really surprised me:
„So little?!“
Ten thousand CFA were twenty dollars. Fifteen euro.
„Yes.“
„Are you sure? I mean, that’s really noting.“
„In Ouaga they may be more expensive. But if a girl lives in a village, and this girl is probably from a village, then ten thousand for her is much.“
„But how do you know this one is from a village?“ I mean, it wasn’t exactly written on her forehead.
„She is,“ Annette stated with conviction. I left it at that. All I could say was:
„That’s really sad.“
It was indeed.