In Abidjan, the Go use their bodies like cash tills in order to gain a little freedom, even if it means living in dishonour. Very young, they flee domestic violence. Trapped on paths of violence and submission, they confront authority in the hope of one day being able to make their own decisions, and shape their own lives. This quest for freedom at any cost leads them into "fraîchnies ghettos" (ghettos of fresh, young girls), which is where I photographed them. The outsider's gaze sees them only as "cursed, screaming, violent, doomed girls" who bring shame and bad luck. My portraits seemed to bring them a glimmer of dignity, allowing me to establish a link with them.

Three years later I filmed them, without narration, without dialogue. They gave me the gift of their privacy, in a half-silence. Having worked for two years in places where prostitution is practiced, I took this as a favour granted which allowed another side to these women to emerge; a side which breaks away from the prejudices condemning them to public shame.

Now a little later, together they attempt to escape from banishment. Just as they succeed in freeing themselves, they unload their burdens onto two "petites bonnes", underage skivvies, and illiterate like them. Those who are mistreated will always find someone weaker than they are, in a system of dependence that extends to all relationships, in a world of "chacun dans son chacun", everybody for themselves.

With all our different worlds, so saturated with speech, I seek a cinematic approach that goes towards the interior expression of the being that suffers and resists without necessarily wanting to speak of it publicly.