Daily tragedy

This is a true story.
(Sorry for my bad English...)

Jime, the young man of the drawing, came from Gambia last April. I met him this summer, at lunch time, in the field behind my office.
He was nice, always smiling and very positive. As he didn't speak French, during a while I gave him some courses of basic French.
He was living in a shelter for asylum-seeker near from my work place. So we used to meet every Wednesday. We had a lot of fun, and great talk together. He was a peaceful presence when I needed to be reassured. These last months we have forsaken the field for the quiet warm of a coffee.
This Wednesday, I was not able to see him, because of the sickness of one of the children I babysit.. So I sent Jime a sms to warn him and to ask him for news.
The answer was...
"Hi... I feel really bad… I'm on the way to Africa... I'm not ok."

I had him at phone yesterday night, only a few minutes because of the bad quality of the communication. He told me that people came to take him very early in the morning and that he was not aware of anything, and had no time to inform nobody that he had to leave. No time to do anything to prevent that by the way...

He was crying at phone.
And I'm useless, I'm powerless. I'm sad.

Mad world.

“Jimmy... Won't you please come home...”