BOMENGO

In the summer of 2024, I went through a period of great vulnerability. And in that space of fragility, I understood something I already knew without truly knowing it: I was nothing without my village. That my strength — my real strength — did not come from me alone. It came from the people who knew me, who carried me, who reminded me of who I was when I had forgotten.

This discovery led me to a question I could not let go: if the village gives us this power in real life, why are we so alone and so vulnerable in the digital space where we spend so much of our existence?

The answer became Bomengo.

Google knows your fears. Meta knows your emotional reactions. Spotify knows your moods. Amazon knows your desires. Together, they hold a representation of you — fragmented, exploited, weakened. A twin you didn't choose, built from what you consume, sold to those who want to predict you.

This twin doesn't resemble you. It doesn't know your values, your meaningful relationships, what you truly want to build. It knows nothing of your village.

And without its village, a digital twin is a shell.

Bomengo has one objective: to make your digital twin powerful.

Powerful — rooted in your values, alive in your connections, capable of acting in your interest. Not fragmented across twenty platforms. Not exploited by algorithms. Sovereign.

Bamboo grows on the surface in apparent isolation. But underground, each stalk is connected to the others through a network of shared roots — cut one, the others continue. Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari called this logic the rhizome: growing without fixed hierarchy, through multiple connections and circulations. Édouard Glissant reclaimed it to think about cultures and peoples: what connects us does not pass through a center, but through an infinity of underground paths.

Bomengo is built on this form. No sovereign algorithm, no single feed. Villages. Links. A collective force that grows stronger from below.

In Éropolitique (Le Passager clandestin, 2025), Myriam Bahaffou asks a radical question: what if desire were not a weakness to control, nor a market to exploit, but a political force? Eropolitics means making desire, pleasure, and care levers of collective transformation — loving bodies, bonds, the living and the Earth not to possess them, but to protect and free them. A trip with friends, a tontine, a dinner at home — the joy of being alive, lived together, becomes a force that resists.

At Bomengo, eropolitics is not a stance. It is the engine.

In Resonance (La Découverte, 2018), Hartmut Rosa asks a simple question: what makes us feel alive? His answer: the moment when something — a person, a work, a community — truly touches us, and we can in turn respond, act, transform something. Not control. Not consume. Respond. The opposite of resonance is alienation — a cold, silent, purely utilitarian world.

Bomengo's reason for being is to recreate the conditions for resonance. Spaces where your presence makes a difference.

Bomengo builds the twin that platforms never wanted to give you — holistic, alive, powerful. It brings together five dimensions:

• Who you are — your values, your worldview, what moves you.
• Who you live with — your village, your dense connections. Not 500 links. Twenty real people.
• What you desire — your projects, what you need from others, your freedom income.
• What you create — your works, your thinking in motion, your digital garden.
• How you inhabit time and money — your availability, what you choose to fund collectively.

In time, this twin acts. Every day, it moves through your applications, regenerates your online identity, recovers your dispersed data. Not for a platform. For you.

Bomengo is a digital commons in the sense of Elinor Ostrom: a resource collectively managed by those who depend on it, with no single owner. Your data, your connections, your time, your twin — all of it belongs to you. Power is distributed among all members, like in a rhizome. Every shared wallet, every governance vote is an act of collective sovereignty over a territory we allowed to be confiscated for too long.

Bomengo was born from a wound and a discovery. The wound: our digital twins are fragmented, exploited, weakened. The discovery: strength does not come from oneself alone. It comes from the village.

A powerful digital twin is not the one with the most data. It is the one rooted in real relationships, in a sovereign space, surrounded by people who know you and carry you.

The bamboo grows. Underground, everything is already connected.