Today I did the driver my friend .. Today I did the driver. E ra just past one o'clock, I was going to eat at home, computer off, shoulder bag, the bike keys jingling in his hand.
Nicooo! Cry classic Benin, Bertin, social worker, and my tutor, I called, approaches now start harping on style with a smile and asks me a stupid please.
In Benin the salaams to be great, instead of going down to it, love to go around here for now.
We get to the point, must accompany a girl to his home town a few months staying with the nuns to Adjohoun. Normally it is a work that it is for leaders in charge of dealing in the middle of the risk situations taken over by our project.
Unfortunately their good management, both the young and the young are less engaged, having not one, but two things to do one and denying even the obvious impossibility of being able to do both.
is harping on the coordinator and the 4x4 part, I do not know the destination, I explain and understand that only she knows the village.
reclaim his two bags of clothes and odds and ends from the nuns and head.
Adjohoun leave the main runway in the direction Azowwlissé, the other "great" district, a few km after turning into a mini-track, where the car fits perfectly the narrow roadway. Trivial to remember that you can not exceed 40km / h for the craters in the road caused by water and maintenance at least 15 years old.
As navigator, my faithful social worker, always shows me the way to go last arrived at every intersection, helping me in the directions: "Go Beyond", "Take it from here", "That no, yes indeed." 
The whole thing is very funny because he points to the streets with hands motionless on her knees, then it becomes impossible to understand where to go.
If the road is bumpy traveled, the more we enter in the forest, most everything gets smaller: plants dominate the way, the palm trees shading the ground of the road, the curves increase, stretching the hole out of all proportion, and you find yourself with 4x4 angle of 30 degrees for a few km.
I have twice asked colleagues if those roads passing cars. The first response, before you get there it was: "Of course!" Once wedged in between the bushes, climbing plants, with no chance to get off, to turn around, to go back, after a nervous laugh, trust me nicely that for two years now, when they are gone they have never crossed a car.
reassured me, finally a patch of sand, we get stuck, cabbage once there was room for a reversal!
We test the 4x4 and everything works. We walk a few hundred meters with palm trees that scrape the roof and sides. 
Finally, in the village, even in all 15 booths, including a few homeless and uninhabited. In the primordial mud brick, with windows of very resistant palm leaves, on comfortable couches woven palm leaves. There are only women and children, every mother has a baby at the breast man and another 80 cm high that even stumbles in its shadow.
No trace of the men will be in the fields to work or stay in the shade of some palm trees.
Let the girl talk to adults who are not part of the family and we share.
Bertin I ask to tell the story of young, first in his company I did not, knowing that contained little or nothing of French.
Joanna, 15 years old, at first glance you would say that 19-20 years, understand that after so much has already lived, too much for his young age.
Two years ago part to begin an apprenticeship in a sewing workshop in the capital Porto Novo, Lao is the older sister who works in another studio and offers a bed to sleep. The mother left them when she was young, you do not remember what he looked like, and has no idea where you are. The father is usually absent, and when at home often smells of palm wine.
Joanna is in the capital, he worked for a year in the studio, has just turned 14 when her boss asks her a share on learning, not able to pay in full and asks for help to his father. That is talk with an uncle in the city, finally with an acquaintance who lives in the suburbs Porto Novo.
Unbeknownst to Joanna, her father has just sold to a forty year old, pretending to put her to work in another studio, sewing out of town but less expensive.
few months later, the advances of man became insistent, he became abusive and one night he takes by force and violence. Joanna was owned by him, had made a deal with his father, was his right to take it. She pretends to be there after a few moments and allows himself to man, who gets tired of seeing her docile soon. Joanna pretends to feel good, food for man and go to bed at sunset.
wait four in the morning and late at night trying to escape, crossing 5 km thick, dark forest, a forest that does not know, is not to home, no neighbors know it, the asphalt road, walk up in Porto Novo, is several steps and returns to Adjohoun. In the city meets an uncle suggested that instead of heading directly home, where they could find the father who did not think twice to sell it, go to the brigade and tell everything to the officer at the barracks to protest the incident.
Joanna discovers, talking to the soldier, who the father is was arrested last year and was made 10 months in prison.
The brigade will alert the juvenile court, which calls Bertin, which sends the girl by the nuns.
After three months by the Sisters of Providence, Joanna became friends, she has started to smile and work in a sewing workshop in the church block.
now returns home stronger, he knows his rights, he knows he should not be afraid to denounce, he wants to explain to her friends who are still in his small village, and certainly will leave for the city, her sister, to start to work. Joanna is strong, wants to open up a sewing workshop of his own, I know we will succeed.
