"Thank you, mon ami. I always called you that. I ask you to forgive me for what I did, and for what I failed to do. Forgive me if I have not lived up to my responsibilities." It is a soft prayer, a whispered message from father to son. Yesterday, Marius Ani finally found his little Laurent Barthélemy. A little boy who left one morning for school in Abidjan's working-class neighborhood and never returned home. The family had placed a missing person notice. Days passed and the wait ended with a visit from the gendarmes. The 14-year-old's body was found at dawn on Jan. 8 at Roissy airport, specifically in the undercarriage compartment of an Air France flight from the Ivory Coast. Marius made the same journey as Laurent Barthélemy did on Monday night. Thanks to an international mobilization, French and Ivorian authorities finally allowed the math teacher to come and get his son back. This took articles, Roberto Saviano's denunciation, and the campaign that was launched by the writer Chiara Alessi on "States General" in order to make it happen. It has taken more than a month to break the indifference that surrounds what we call "immigration tragedies," by pretending not to see that behind every number there is a name, a story, a world that is made up of sometimes unspeakable hopes, such as the case of Laurent Barthélemy. For instance, Laurent had once asked his father what the Institut Pasteur was, explaining that he wanted to be a scientist when he grew up. It seemed like one of many questions from an ever-curious child who wanted to be told the story of Nelson Mandela, Winston Churchill, and other great men. Instead, who knows now?
His dream
It is not true that parents can always protect their children or read them like an open book. Marius, by questioning his mistakes, wondered "If he had told me about that dream, if he had confided in me." He also thought "maybe I was too strict, too demanding. He used to tell me: 'Dad, you only think about studying.' It is not true that we no longer have a heart as those who speculate on our fears want others to think. Marius was recognized by the crew when he boarded the Air France flight that would take him to his son, who is seven thousand kilometers away. A steward spoke to him for a while, and a stewardess took care of him throughout the flight. Laurent Barthélemy's father had never flown on an airplane; he did not even have a passport until a few days ago. Upon arrival in Roissy, just outside the door, the French head of the Community of Sant'Egidio (Valérie Régnier), the Ivorian consul, the writer Alessi but also the commander of the airport police, who had made the report of finding the boy's body, were waiting for him. The officer cared to be there; he wanted to offer condolences to the man who was squeezed into his winter clothes, which had never been worn before. Roissy's staff made sure that immigration checks took only a few minutes and Marius could immediately go to the forensic medical institute overlooking the Seine, where his son's body had been stored for more than a month. Before letting him in, the institute's director prepared Marius, by warning him of the signs of time he would discover on Laurent’s body. The premise was "You might not recognize him." However, the father recognized his son when he leaned behind the glass. This is a procedure that is required by the law until the coffin is transferred. "It is him," he said, bursting into silent tears. Stepping out, he sat down, picked up his folder of photographs, and began to address Laurent Barthélemy. The last image was taken at Christmas. This picture shows a boy that appears pensive in front of a sky-like background. In fact, he looks like an angel. Marius believes in premonitory signs. A month before he fled, the boy had asked for his nickname Prince to be put on his papers. Now that the Ivorian boy's story has moved so many individuals, his father is convinced that Laurent has become a prince. "You are small, but wherever you are, I am sure you are in the company of great men." Marius saw the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower yesterday. "Maybe that was my atheist's dream." He stopped to eat a crépe in a place that is next to Notre Dame. He was struck by the Haussmannian palaces.
The palaces
"They look solid, made to last, not like at our place." Walking through the streets that seemed spotless to him, while so many Parisians complained about it, he shook hands with some homeless people. He will remain in the capital until Friday. The city has taken charge of his travel expenses and promised to create a large fresco in memory of Laurent Barthélemy. Marius will return with his son's body to Abidjan and bury him in the village of his ancestors. The Ivorian government's transport minister has received him twice already, promising that light will be shed on the accident. Marius remains convinced that his son could not have done it alone. In the coming weeks, he will participate in a campaign that is done by the Community of Sant'Egidio, which is very active in Abidjan. This crusade is entitled "Do not Waste Your Life." Its goal is to raise awareness among young people about the risks of illegal immigration. Marius would like to create a foundation that will focus on education. It will have the name of his son, Prince Laurent Barthélemy Ani Guibahi. Sorry, if it is so long to write. Laurent had decided to be a little prince.
PHOTO FROM http://www.leparisien.fr/
[ Anais Ginori, LA REPUBBLICA ]
The father finally found his little Laurent. A child that left for school in the working-class neighborhood of Abidjan and never returned home. The body was found at Roissy airport, specifically in the undercarriage compartment of an Air France flight from the Ivory Coast.
