In Summer 2012, my mum was at the beach in Sitges where she met Max; he was 27 years old, like me. He was selling tissues and sunglasses. During this summer they became friends; I was touched by Max’s story of migration from Dakar, Senegal, and my mum started to help him as if he was a member of our family. Max and I met during Christmas of that year, and since then we became half-brothers.
At the end of July 2016, Max wrote me on Facebook to let me know that he was in Dakar visiting his family. The next day, I was on a plane en route to Dakar; I’m not sure why I was going there but I guess I was pushed by the search of coincidence surrounding our story.
Rond Point Colobane follows the trace of a path drowned in the ground of an unknown city. I sink in Max’s stage. The magic of coincidence located me in this scenario, so I decided to chase with my camera, all that surrounded me, looking for an every day that could be mine if I was really his brother.