Night has fallen, and the RER is pouring a flood of travelers in a hurry on the platform of the Pierrefitte-Stains station. The building serves the two adjoining municipalities of Seine-Saint-Denis. “Here, people are not teleworking, Mohammed emphasizes behind his counter. There are very few executives, almost only workers. “ He is in a good position to talk about it. He worked in the building before roasting poultry inside this truck parked in the forecourt of the station.
These workers provide him with most of his customers at the end of the day. “It’s tasty”, slips a regular while crunching a turkey wing, at 2 € a piece. The trader also sells whole chickens for € 6. “It’s from Orléanais, it comes from farms in the Orléans region”, he specifies. Mohammed was born in Algeria. He is 45 years old and has lived in Pierrefitte since 1981. Since then, he has not moved. “France is magnificent”, he enthuses. This very special year, the traveling roaster has experienced it like so many others: he has closed and reopened his business, fears for his turnover with the curfew at 8 p.m., waits for better days and worries for the future of her five children. “They lost a lot at school with confinement”, he notes. His parents still live by his side and they are old enough to be vulnerable people in the face of a virus that hit this Parisian suburb hard in the spring. “They have only one fear, it is not to be buried in the country, Mohammed says. As they say: “Everything is in the hands of God”. It doesn’t mean that we don’t care. But if anything has to happen, it’s fate. “