“In 2010 I had been sent to the parish of St Marie, on the outskirts of Man, which is the capital of Ivory Coast. At that time I wasn’t familiar with the culture and traditions of Africa. I was immediately struck by the strength and vitality of the people, despite the great poverty and consequences of the war. Over time I learned to recognize the ancestral fear towards white people. For me, as a priest from Switzerland, it wasn’t so much a matter of providing economic support, but of putting myself in a position of deep listening. What I had to offer was me, my availability, my lack of pretensions. I lived in the Focolare town of Mariapolis Victoria, near Man. From there I travelled every morning on bicycle towards my quarter, on my way to meet people in the shops, offices and along the road. I waved to everyone on my way and stopped now and then to put a stop to some large or small argument. I paid special attention to the children. I talked to them and played with them. If any of them were sick, I’d take them to the infirmary at the Mariapolis. I did the same for their parents and relatives. This is how nearly all the children in the parish came to recognize me and introduce me to the adults. During the feasts I’d go through the quarters with them, to extend my best wishes to the families, Christian and Muslim alike. This also led to friendships with Imams and Evangelical pastors. One day, a boy from the parish approached me. He wanted to do something for the children of the village, although he had previously grown far from the Church because of a misunderstanding. I encouraged them to do small fund-raisers to support their journeys, a gesture of auto-financing that was greatly appreciated by the local bishop. We visited 11 villages in which the young people were trained in visiting the sick and elderly. During the Year of Mercy, with the help of the residents of Mariapolis Victoria, we supported the bishop’s projects in the diocese, sponsoring a meeting of traditional leaders, pastors from the Evangelical Churches and Imams. The campaign for brotherhood among the populations that spread through the region concluded at the Mariapolis. I substituted for the chaplain at the public jail for a while. During the celebrations of the mass, I tried to underscore the importance of living the Gospel. Sometimes I invited others to join me, who shared their testimonies. These masses were celebrated under a roof, in a courtyard, in the midst of a lot of confusion. So, I brought along a loud-speaker, inviting them to use it when they had other events. I later learned that they shared it with the Muslims and that the Imam was touched by their generosity, which he called “typically Christian”. Before my departure, they wanted to hold a send-off feast for me with the director of the jail. They told me: “You always practiced what you preached.”