During hitchhiking trip across Congo Brazzaville, the covid-19 pandemic is getting seriou and some countries are starting to close their borders. So I decide to speed up. But the day I cross the border, the government of Cameroon announces the closure of its borders and I find myself stranded.

After 24 hours of panic looking for a place to confine  (although confinement is not mandatory), a friend of a friend (herself stranded in France) offers to lend me her apartment ... in the heart of the French Embassy in Yaoundé! I live for a month under high security and it is nice to feel safe because in the street, people shoot me  "coronavirus", "go home", "you bring us the disease".

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Then I spend two months locked down with an Italian-Congolese family. In exchange for food and accomodation, I take care of their six-year-old daughter's homework every morning. I enjoy this time, it's much nicer to have some company, to teach a child to read and write ... and to eat pasta, lasagna and tiramisus. International flights resume in June and the family leaves for Europe. I had already refused repatriation flights and there is still no way for me to return by plane. After seven years of hitchhiking around the world, I only have 10,000 kilometers left to go and I don't want to give up my project so close to the goal.

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Another Frenchman I met at the embassy lent me his apartment for a month. But my nightmare became true : to fall seriously ill on my own. Finally, I am hospitalized in emergency for an appendicitis surgery. I woke up from my general anesthesia with a huge pain in my shoulder that will force me to sleep sitting up and have sleepless nights for three weeks.

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But there is a glimmer in the picture: my boyfriend Sebastian, who was stuck in New Zealand because of the pandemic, finally manages to join me. We are happy to meet again after five months of separation.

We spend the month of August by the sea, in Kribi, where he catches malaria.

Like every month, I hope that the borders will reopen next month, but nothing changes, not even at the beginning of September. It makes the situation stressful and it prevents us from making plans for more than a month.

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At the end of August, we return to Yaoundé, to a house loaned by an other French family. This time my boyfriend catches covid-19 but he has no symptoms. We remain confined. I take this opportunity to redo the full design of my website. Then a French-Cameroonian lady host us in one of her Airbnb apartments. In exchange, I create a website for her place, with pictures and videos.

At the same time, for four months, I have been increasing my medical visits and physiotherapy sessions for my shoulder, as well as phone calls and emails for my insurance (Chapka and Axa) which is reluctant to pay me back my medical expenses.

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I have been in Cameroon for almost eight months and I have a feeling of wasted time and oppressive imprisonment. I was so worried about my fear of Covid-19 at the beginning, then about my health, insurance and housing problems each month. So I voluntarily limited my meetings and did not visit much Cameroon. I would have just made a trip to the Pygmies, an excursion to the Twin Lakes and the Ekom Nkam Falls with a friend, a visit of Douala, one month in Kribi and a few parties at the Burger Bar of Yaounde. I put it into perspective by telling myself that 2020 has been a difficult year for everyone, that at least the atmosphere remains cool in Cameroon where everyone continues their life normally. I had the chance to meet generous people who hosted or loaned me accommodation, and my boyfriend has been able to join me for three months.

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The land borders remain officially closed and it seems that it is not going to change for a long time. But unofficially it is said that it is possible to cross. Whoever tries nothing has nothing ... It is stressful but it seems to me the only way out ... I decide to continue my hitchhiking world tour towards Nigeria where the violent demonstrations against the police have just ended.