He was familiarly called Eto’o by his traveling companions, like the well-known Cameroonian football player. He too, Feliciano, was originally from the same country and, in his own way, was famous in the field of migration. Having left quickly for Algeria, then from Tunisia which he had reached, he went to Dubai and from there returned to his native country. Having left for Dubai a second time, he was expelled and forced to return to Cameroon. After some time, moved by something indefinable, he reached Ghana and subsequently, with his friend Giovanni, Togo, also located on the Atlantic coast. The voice that called them transformed once again into an irresistible seduction and, with their friend, they reached the Algerian border. Given the repression of the Algerian authorities against the seekers of utopias, they chose to go back along the same path as they went. Once in Niamey they summarily introduced themselves to the other residents of the Cameroonian diaspora and then disappeared into one of the neighbourhoods. Eto’o tried to cure the excruciating pain he felt in his tooth. Following perhaps excessive intake of painkillers sold on the street, he was forced to seek treatment from a private clinic in the area. In the meantime, his health conditions were worsening and, in addition to intestinal pain, a kidney block had developed which made his situation desperate. Having reached the Migrant Service and was now dying, he was accompanied to the university hospital and underwent emergency surgery. However, it was too late and Feliciano died at the age of 37 in Niamey two days ago. The plywood coffin with a cross on top is ready. The tomb was dug in the new Christian cemetery of the capital and only one member of the family is expected to reach him to bury him in the capacious and humble sand of the Niger. A cross will bear the name, date of birth and date of the most challenging migrant transit. He, Eto’o, who made his life a migration and his migration his life, stopped in Niamey. Or not. The tomb-shaped house dug in the sand caressed by the wind and dried by the heat of the season is the last one for those who think that Eto’o’s migration is over. Many who knew him swear that this is not the case. Just now that everything seems over, the journey towards what he has always hoped for, believed in and sought has begun for Feliciano. A home in which countries, borders and the color of the sea mix with the tears of joy of those who have finally achieved what many no longer dare to imagine. In the silence that surrounds the cemetery, the wind carries away the hope that Eto’o walked and that other unwary adventurers will live in the dreamed land of freedom.
