“Be careful, they are out there. don’t look at themwarns Anne Marie*, quickening her pace under a concrete patio that smells of urine. Every day is the same, from 10 to 1 they ruin our lives.“. The energy of this coquettish woman, comfortable in flat shoes, testifies to the anger that is inspired by these young men hiding under her hat.
They are three guys, dark masses floating above the green lawn, sometimes leaning, lying or sitting on the parking lot fan where they set up their outlet last October. They speak loudly in their own language, a mixture of Wolof and French, suddenly bursting into loud, forced laughter. Under the age of 18, agitated and spoiled, they seem to tolerate the panicked, frightened looks and reproachful silence of the residents of the 370 apartments around them.
If we killed three or four at once, the dealers would leave our neighborhood
Until then, at the intersection of the alleys of this residential complex built in the 1970s in the Bellevue district…
Source: Le Figaro
