From Geneva’s Luxury to France’s Modesty to Comoros’ Fight for Change

I saw her a couple of times, Kiki, and only knew her as the femme de ménage (cleaning lady).  Little did I know about the other life she had lived as an activist, her fight for change in Comoros. 

She came to the apartment twice a month for a thorough cleaning. The few times we crossed paths, our conversations didn’t go beyond the usual: Bonjour, ça va? (Hi, how are you?)   

We share the same skin colour, and I don’t know if it’s just me, but when I meet fellow Black people in France or Switzerland, I often feel an unspoken connection. I find myself, fixating my eyes on them ready to say hi while smiling, even though sometimes, the same energy is not returned. Dommage (unfortunate).  

Anyway, one day, we crossed paths as she was vacuuming the living room, and we struck up a conversation. 

What followed intrigued me, as let’s be honest, we all tend to judge a book by its cover, even if we don’t admit it. This is clearly illustrated in my blog: Black, Woman and French: Confronting Prejudices One Step at a Time. 

After growing weary of the dissatisfaction from her job in Geneva, Kiki decided to quit, which, if you ask me, is such a French thing to do. So, I wasn’t entirely shocked that she quit. However, leaving a job in Geneva to become a cleaning lady in France? Yoh!

The context here is, working in Geneva while living in France is more of a luxurious arrangement. This is because the salaries in Geneva are incredibly generous while life in France is less expensive, depending with where you stay.  

So I asked her, “How is this cleaning job satisfying for you?” Not to throw shade on anyone in this line of work. However, let’s be real, you’d also be curious about such a big career shift.   

Kiki replied, “I’m in the process of starting my own cleaning agency. I want to first understand how the job really works, how people who need these services behave, and what the demands are.”   

Well, okay. Not that bad as a concept. The conversation goes on, and honestly, I can’t even remember how we ended up with her telling me about how she organized a protest to oust the president in Comoros. 

Born in the south of France, with all the privileges that come with the French nationality, she still felt deeply connected to her roots in Comoros.   

She carried a constant desire to fight for change and improve the lives of Comorians. This passion drove her and her husband to organize demonstrations against the Comorian government, which led to her husband being detained for a few days and her going into hiding.  

Let me give you some context, Comoros’ history of governance is complicated. Allegations of vote-rigging clouded the current president’s election. His grip on power stretches back decades: he first held office in 1999, then in 2002, again in 2016, and most recently in 2019. Despite this, the country remains mired in poverty, with absurd incidents like the escape of more than 30 prisoners due to the crumbling justice system.  

I could understand Kiki’s frustration and her determination to fight for change and oust such a system. However, I couldn’t stop myself from asking where she got this drive even after experiencing a better life in France and not having lived in Comoros. 

“I have to make my country better,” she told me. “The people in power aren’t willing to change, and it’s up to people like me to make things right. I’m planning another demonstration and strategizing to make it more effective, till we get this false government out of power.”   

She went on, “I’d love to start businesses in Comoros to help the people there, but I can’t with all the corruption. I cannot shy away from the fact that I’m French. I was born here, went to school here and lived all my life here. But there is also the fact that I am first a Comorian and this fight for change, for a better Comoros is my responsibility. One must always dream big.” 

Yes, you heard that right. At first glance, you wouldn’t really picture her as one who’s lived several lives.   

Which made me think, there are two types of people who come abroad. One group feels deeply indebted to their home, family or country thus driven by the vision of going back someday to improve the lives of those they left behind, whether financially or politically.  

Some of them are fiercely patriotic, dreaming of the day they’ll oust their local leaders from power, blaming them for the frustrations that pushed them to leave and travel miles to countries they don’t even like, just to work. 

Then there’s the other group, those who simply want a fresh start, a different life. For them, the idea of going back home is no more than a vacation plan, and that’s where it ends. 

Kiki’s story is a bit special. 

Anyway, all I know is that we can’t all be Nelson Mandela. Some of us were born to be voters, and some, leaders. It’s sill a fight for change in either capacity.

4 thoughts on “From Geneva’s Luxury to France’s Modesty to Comoros’ Fight for Change”

  1. Claudia Kinyua

    I’ve been reading your blogs for like a month now….at this point I wait for Sunday evenings to see what you came up with during the week 😀

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