Kadi Merveille, Kadi Bonheur

Une chanson d'Yves Duteil dans la tête, et quelques photos d'un dimanche on ne peut plus habituel à Ouaga... Kadi grandit...

Other Africas, other ways

I took more planes this year than at any other point in my life, which is ironic looking at all the projects I am working on in connection with climate change and CO2 reductions… But I planted a lemon and two papaya trees in my garden in Ouaga? And want to plant more… And travel less! But it was a good eye opener anyway, to see further than West Africa. In no order whatsoever, starting from…

… South Africa

I only saw Johannesburg on this trip, and of course Soweto… I don’t know what it was like with apartheid, but I was still shocked at how some people live behind high electrified fences in luxury compounds… others in shacks in squalid conditions… Parts of the city reminded me of Nairobi, Soweto of Kibera… but the wealthy areas with more security, too many gates, too many armed guards. And I kept being reminded I was white, an awkward feeling, because in Burkina Faso, I tend to forget… I had no time to escape and climb the Drakensberg like I talked of so many times with my African flatmate back in London, on another journey maybe… Because I know there is more to South Africa than this…

Ethiopia

Twenty-four hours in Addis Ababa and its blue taxis, enough time to know it is a city after my own heart, where slums and residential areas seem to blend. I have no time to find out, if this is really true, just to marvel at the signs in Amharic, at the beauty of the Ethiopian women under their white veils, to eat injera and smell the strong aroma of roasting coffee beans.

A glimpse of magic, but a glimpse at dire poverty also, drinking coffee in a shack under a flyover in construction. The old woman who owns the stall laughs that I would spend the best of 2 hours chatting with her, when I have so little time in Addis. She speaks good English, she once lived in Uganda. And she makes me feel like coming back again soon. It is cold here, one of the highest capital of the world at 2400m…

Morocco

… Has changed so much since I was last there in 2005, highways, tall buildings… Or maybe it is the contrast once again with Burkina Faso or Togo and their bumpy roads and mud houses, but it is strange to think it is on the same continent… I feel disappointed with Casablanca looking at all the signs from French shops, there is even a Paul bakery, and of course Zara, H&M… I only remember fondly this small market tucked away and selling only olives, hundreds of sorts… I feel better in Marrakech sipping mint tea in a traditional riad… I forgot how people would only address men here, I feel invisible… They seem to see right through me, if I am walking with a friend. I am just expected to follow, to agree or at least not to disagree! It’s fine for now, a welcome change actually to be taken care of, but it would drive me insane on a daily basis.

Cameroun

This felt closer to home after all this… Except I guess Douala is a busy port, while you never hear the sirens from the boats in Ouaga! And all around Douala are luxuriant green forests… In some parts, Douala feels like a decaying colonial town, maybe because of the hotel I was put in, fading red carpets and yellowing marble floors. But the markets, the food, I guess the ‘maquis’ as well serving sucreries and Malta Guiness! There was something vaguely familiar!

Oui, mais...

Jour J moins 3… Je rentre en France lundi soir… Je devrais me réjouir de rentrer… Oui, mais…

Hier soir, je suis passé à la boutique de Mazou, c’est un défilé sans fin, car c’est la dernière journée pour avoir bonus ! 200% de bonus sur Celtel, 100% sur Telmob… rien sur Telecel… "Sap, sap", "vite, vite", avant minuit ! Il ne faiblit pas, même s’il est ‘rhumé’, il fait froid avec l’arrivée des pluies, il faut dire… pour nous !

Cet après-midi, le chauffeur de taxi qui m’emmène en ville ‘vous êtes une belle femme’… Pour couper court, j’assène que je suis mariée, mais voilà, mal m’en prend… ‘mais vous n’avez pas encore d’enfant ? il y a un problème ? pourtant vous faites fouka fouka ?’… Oui, mais…

Sur le chemin du retour, je suis encore à quelques six-mètres de chez moi, je ne connais pas bien les habitants par ici, mais une jeune femme souriante sur son vélo m’interpelle ‘Laetitia, tu ne demandes pas de nouvelles de notre Guibi ?’… Je ne la reconnais pas, mais oui, bien sûr que je veux des nouvelles de Guibi, un petit voisin de 14 ans qui a quitté le quartier il y a près d’un an. Guibi n’allait pas à l’école, la maman de Guibi n’avait pas d’argent, Guibi a volé une poule, et mal lui en avait pris… Des conciliabules au sommet avaient eu lieu à l’époque, ‘il avait volé, oui, mais il avait faim…’ Personne ne m’a écouté bien sûr, moi et mes idées de Blanche ! Et il est parti comme apprenti chez un menuisier. J’apprends que maintenant il travaille dans une boutique qui vend des vêtements non loin du marché de Paag Layiri…

J’arrive près de chez moi, un trio pas plus haut que trois pommes se jette dans mes jambes, René, Madi, Fadel… Ils ont fabriqué un masque qui ne paie pas de mine, un vieux carton, deux trous, un bout de ficelle… mais quelle fierté ! Ils sont couverts de boue, moi aussi maintenant, mais on s'en fiche, c'est tellement bien qu'il pleuve!

Toutes ces petites histoires qui ne riment à rien pour d’autres, mais me donnent le sentiment que j’appartiens un peu à ici… A l’idée de partir 2 mois loin de ces sourires, de cette poussière rouge et de cette odeur de soumbala dans l’air du soir… Je me sens toute nostalgique…

Croire... Believe...

Adama habite à deux 'six-mètres' (noms des petites ruelles en terre icic au Burkina) du très célèbre Hadj-dont-je-ne-connais-pas-le-nom qui est décédé à l'âge de... 137 ans!! Tout le monde en parle dans le quartier. Si, si, 'il a connu les années 1800' m'assure-t-on, il est parti à la Mecque à pied, 3 ans aller, 3 ans retour... avec 40 francs en poche... Ceci expliquerait donc cela!
Adama n'est pas peu fier d'avoir un voisin aussi prestigieux! Je lui ai demandé si les funérailles avaient eu lieu... Pas encore, il faut attendre le meilleur jour pour le sacrifice... Donc musulman, mais aussi animiste, il avait mis toutes les chances de son côté ce monsieur!

Adama lives a couple of streets (well mud paths!) away from the very famous Hadj-whose-name-I-forgot, and who recently died at the age of 137 years old!!! Everyone is talking about it around here. 'He knew the 1800s ', have I been assured, and he went to Mecca by foot, 3 years to get there, and 3 years back, with only 40 francs in his pocket... This would explain it!
Adama is quite proud of this famous neighbour! I asked him about the funerals, they had not taken place yet, waiting for the best day for the sacrifice to take place... So muslim and animist, definitely a wise man who took no risk!

A Greener Future

Climatic conditions seem to be getting worse with global warming, deforestation and the advance of the desert. The government and development agencies have invested in environmental protection and in reforestation programmes, but wood is increasingly scarce - being sought for daily life in cooking as well as for building. Experiments with alternatives for cooking fuel and for building materials inevitably meet resistance because of cost, inconvenience, and reluctance to leave tradition.

Maybe there is the beginning of an answer with these stoves that are built around the traditionnal 3 stones using only local material and consume up to 50% less wood...
And there is a glimmer of hope seeing the children playing at building economical stoves, just like their mums...

4 1/2 funerals and 1 christening

May was one of those months, when I started to realise, how the extended family in West Africa is such an important element in sad and happy times. I spent some time visiting people, who'd lost a child or a relative, I also was invited to a christening... Most of my friends here spend every single weekend doing the rounds of friends and family, this is a nice sign of solidarity and that family ties are strong, but also a huge financial and social pressure.

Maybe because the heat lasted longer this year and people got weaker, maybe because the longer you stay, the more people you know, the more statistics come into life... and death stroke many times in May. Mariam eight month-pregnant lost her baby and her mind, she is slowly getting back to her old self... Matthieu's wife at work also delivered a still-born baby but people were quite ruthless over the matter, he already had 5 kids you understand, this was highly irresponsible anyway to plan a 6th child. in this world... A colleague lost her older sister, tis was vry sudden and sad, she was only in her 50s, but bluntly looking at numbers, over the average life expectancy of 45... Adama, my dear gardner and guardian at home lost his little girl Rosalie, she was 18 months... In all cases, money could have swung it, money to get diagnosed earlier, money to take a cab to the hospital, money to get to a better health center, money to buy the syringes, disinfectant and all you need to get operated, this all has to be bought in advance and brought to the doctor to use.

I learnt along the way, mournings go on for 3 days for a boy, 4 for a girl, if it's an adult that dies, celebrations will involve music, singing and many more rituals and for a child, people get buried within hours of passing away, it's always a rushed affair, but then masses go on for weeks and years later, when people see a coffin being taken to the cemetery, they will stop and stand up by the side of the road paying their respect... Well, I did not learn that much in retrospect, but I am looking forward to reading a friend's thesis on funeral rites in Burkina Faso, I am guessing, I'll learn a lot about life in her essay in a round-about way!

1/2 a funeral occured in my street as well, as our friend Ali, who is in his 20s, a fashion conscious hairdresser and amateur musician collapsed one morning and lost consciousness, he was taken away, the word went around that it was malaria... People started coming to the house to give their condolences, kids were in tears, as he is like an older brother to them all, but he came back, weak and tired, but still with us and still dreaming about one day recording an album!

Now Kevin's christening... (Kevin being the young victim of too many TV novellas being shown, on burkinabé channels and kids starting to being christened Owen, Johnny and Sandra, rather than Aïsha, Pélagie and Cheick). This was a good party! Mass was at 6am at the Cathedral, where hundreds other adults and children had been christened in May, the peak season for it, then it was back to their little home in Nagré for some food, dolo, a local millet beer and cokes! The women cooked kilos of rice, beans and fish, people kept dropping by all day, family and friends, they were served some food and drinks and carried on to another christening or wedding... Dolo helping, people got very loud and funny, but there was no music and no dancing this time. Everyone was very smartly dressed, some in 'pagnes' , local pieces of fabrics, specially printed for the occasion and quoting a passage of the gospel.

Place de la Femme

Je n'avais jamais célébré le Journée de la Femme avant de vivre au Burkina Faso, mais l'an passé à Saaba et cette année à Koubri, j'ai pu constater que les festivités battaient leur plein pour cette fête nationale. Une lueur d'espoir dans un pays, où les droits de la femme sont trop souvent violés?

Difficile à croire si vous êtes, bien loin de la Place des Grands Hommes, Place de la Femme à Bobo Dioulasso, seconde ville du pays, où trône cette statue...

Mais pas impossible, si vous discutez avec ces femmes burkinabé à Koubri qui se battent sans relâche pour se faire une place meilleure dans la société burkinabé pour elles et leurs filles, grâce notamment à la microfinance. (lire sur le blog d'Entrepreneurs du Monde La Femme à l'honneur au Burkina Faso)

'On ne naît pas femme, on le devient', Le Deuxième Sexe (Simone de Beauvoir)