Halima! As the poet said: "I never knew you, but my gaze is full of your blood, your beautiful black blood spilled across the fields, the blood of your sweat, the sweat of your labor, the labor of slavery, the slavery of your children…".

If there's one thing everyone agreed on, it's that you were incredibly talented. You were beautiful too. You had a radiant smile, especially in the Northern Hemisphere summer. You left us far too soon. But the Lord never makes mistakes. From where you are, you're saying, like the Quebecers: "And what's next?"

I'd like to dwell on the profession you practiced so excellently: "actress." Because I think that in our country, we don't take this profession seriously. We simply don't take film professions seriously. And we inherited this from the former colonizer. Don't we tell someone who isn't serious, "Stop your nonsense"? What profession is more thankless than that of an actor? We embody someone we are not. And unfortunately, very often, the unreliable public mistakes us for someone we're not. And they stone us. I learned the importance of this role the day I had to, at the last minute, replace an extra who had forgotten to show up on my set. This extra had one line to say. The scene had to be reshot eight times. Yes, you read that right, eight. From that day on, actors earned my respect forever. Only one country in the world has truly understood the importance of the actor: the United States. It's no coincidence that Hollywood is the second largest industry in the United States after aerospace and before automobiles. And for this industry, which produces only prototypes, a film hinges on one name. Just one. The name of the lead actor. Whether it's Denzel Washington, Dwayne Johnson, or Nicole Kidman.

I've always been fascinated by acting. My childhood idol was Abou Camara. That gives you a clue about my age. Yes, there was Baye Peulh, who gave me stomach cramps. But no one came before Abou Camara. And of course, my dream has always been to be a filmmaker, much to the dismay of my father, who envisioned me as a doctor. When I got my baccalaureate, I killed time studying economics while waiting for my dream to come true. And it was Moussa Yoro Bathily (I pay tribute to him) who made that dream a reality, by editing my first screenplays and offering me the role of third assistant director on his film "The Archer Bassari." And paradoxically, it was this opportunity that allowed me to meet my idol. Moussa had asked me to go with the set driver to pick up Abou Camara. When the driver parked in front of the home of this great actor in Grand Dakar and I saw Abou Camara come out of this… “home”, I was stunned. I couldn’t imagine that he lived… “there”.

It was at that precise moment that I understood why my father didn't want me to pursue this career. It was at that precise moment that I understood I wouldn't be doing this job in Senegal.

I've lived and worked in Canada for thirty years, returning to Senegal almost every year. The plight of actors hasn't changed. Worse, it's gotten worse. With the proliferation of television channels and the rise of social media, actors, now more than ever, are forced to play a role they're not. If you appear, even fleetingly, in a television series or music video, you think you're exempt from taking the unlicensed taxi, the minibus, or the Tata bus; at worst, you'll take the BRT, making sure to keep a low profile and hide behind dark sunglasses. You're forbidden from wearing the same outfit twice in a row at our countless family gatherings. Being an actor in Senegal is a nightmare.

Halima, Abou! You were my idols without even knowing it. In other places, you would be icons. Unfortunately, you had the misfortune of being born in a country called Senegal. Cruel irony, the country of the champion of Negritude: Léopold Sédar Senghor.

Let's be clear!

"Cinema bi dou dem" as long as the various trades in the audiovisual industry do not form a collective agreement to defend their rights.

"Cinema will continue as long as producers line their pockets and leave actors and technicians to starve.

"Cinema will not succeed" as long as public or private television stations do not put their money into the production of films that will primarily feed their programming schedules.

"Cinema will not succeed" as long as the chosen projects obey a logic of patronage and kickbacks at the expense of their quality.

"Cinema will not progress" until the State organizes this sector of the economy with seriousness and responsibility by investing in a promising field and by passing laws that promote audiovisual media.

I'll finish with an anecdote: in October, I came to Senegal for two months. I requested a meeting with the Minister of Culture. I was told I had to write a letter and deliver it to the ministry. I wrote my letter and took a taxi to the ministry, which last time was located opposite the Blaise Diagne high school: 2,000 CFA francs. Now, I'm told the ministry has moved to Diamniadio: 2,500 CFA francs for a taxi to the TER train station and 1,500 CFA francs for the Dakar-Diamniadio trip. As I left the station, the bus had just left. I had to take a shared taxi to the ministerial offices: 1,000 CFA francs. Let's do the math: 7,000 CFA francs each way, and of course, 7,000 CFA francs to return. 14,000 CFA francs to submit a letter and have it stamped. It's 2026, folks! And worse, no RESPONSE! Not from the minister, not from the chief of staff, not from the head of the cabinet; and what about the multitude of technical advisors? An administration that doesn't respond shows a lack of RESPECT for its citizens.

Yes Awadi, “Deuk bi dou dem”!

Seydou Kane, Filmmaker, Ottawa.