This project of self-portraits pays homage to a Senegalese dance reserved for women, the SABAR. Men who dare to dance it are called all sorts of derogatory names. I did it when I was 6 years old. The memory of my mother’s angry face coming to look for me in the crowd of women haunted me throughout m
y childhood and adolescence. The experience was also a factor in my choice to go into exile and move to France at the age of 18, under the pretext of studying. 26 years later, I decided to dance the SABAR again, hiding behind a negative that operates as a protective veil.
It was a way to assert my homosexuality and to shade light on the issue of lgbt-phobia in Senegal.
