When Woppa Diallo was 12, her aunt took her to visit a family friend in a village in northern Senegal. As she entered the house, a girl walked past in tears. Diallo was led into a room where there was nothing but a fruit bowl with blades in it.
“When I saw that, I knew this woman wasn’t a friend. She trapped me and held me down. She had already closed the door,” she remembers.
