Fear

The next person to tell me ganda si boori will convince me it is as Aliou said, "The great fear has installed itself." Kidal, precisely Abeïbara, was attacked with a force of 80 vehicles full of marginalized, gun-toting rebels. There were casualties on both sides and the rebels killed the Commandant. Then yesterday, rumors were spreading that Labbézanga, on the boarder would be attacked, so the government sent reinforcements (good thinking, after the Ansongo attack where there was ONE guardian in the gendarmerie courtyard). Everyone is saying this is an escalation. Us volunteers aren't panicking, but it is hard ignoring rumors. These people have seen and know war. 

The gandakoye rebel leader of the 1991-92 coup d'état has returned from Senegal. He sits and drinks his tea outside along the road near the phone-charging boutique here in Ansongo. And now as I am finally typing this entry, 3 months later, does the Malian media circulate the following article: 

Security: Northern Mali, another rebel front is being born

By Abdrahamane KEÏTA
While the open front led by Ibrahim Ag Bahanga begins the process of its disintegration, another hotbed of tension is trying to take over. It has to do with a rather faint copy of the "Gandakoye" Movement, as isolated veterans who have had difficulty in succeeding are drawing inspiration from the May 23 Alliance.

"Ganda Izo." This is what the former "Gandakoye" veteran, Cheybou Diallo, has named a new movement of ethnic revindication that nearly missed the 7th Region (Kidal). The diplomat, after a long stay in Dakar, has chosen to settle in "the City of Askias" (Gao) where his multiple offensives of charm directed toward the youth in Gao has only managed to stir up wind.

Mr. Diallo's plan, according to our sources, was first to recreate from its' ashes the mother movement, while attracting the sympathy of a youth lost through the shimmering favors comparable to those obtained by the May 23 Alliance. But after lengthy and unsuccessful attempts to bring people together around the same ideals, the prophet of violence retreated to the village of Fafa in the Ansongo Circle, not far from the Niger border, where he seems to have sufficiently labored for the needs of his cause.

According to our sources, Mr. Diallo finds himself finally at the head of a more or less formidable rebel battalion, composed mainly of young Fulani men from Mali and Niger. But unlike the former Gandakoye Movement, where he had once carved out a somewhat mixed reputation, the new front has nothing to envy to a rebel position. He openly chose to use the same methods that Ibrahim Ag Bahanga used to impose on the Malian government the same concessions made to the fighters from Kidal.

Our sources affirm that the former "Gandakoye" activist has already established cooperative ties with the Malian and Nigerian branches of the rebellion, which in turn, agreed to strengthen its capacity for creating a nuisance with an endowment of appropriate materials. To begin with, Ag Bahanga, add our sources, had already provided him with a satellite telephone (Thuraya) and three all-terrain vehicles.

The problem is that all these threats of destabilization and conflagration have free rein, with the knowledge and in view of everyone, without appropriate measures from the highest Malian authorities. Which obviously prefers to extinguish fires rather than stifle crises in their infancy.

If you give a jackal a baby goat's leg...

This is my teammate's attempt at translating "If you give a mouse a cookie..." into an understandable story for my dear koyraboro friends who know so well how to "eat." This is the slang in both French (bouffer) and in koyraboro to explain how people try to profit in community development projects, or skim off the top, or accept bribes. 

It bothers me even people with whom I've closely worked for the last year or more choose to sabotage my work with others because they don't directly profit. And all I am trying to do is appropriate resources according to those who actively approach me and to those who may not be active but whose need is readily apparent. One thing I've learned, okay like 377th thing I've learned while working in Ansongo, is that you can't trust anyone (always get a second or third opinion in regards to someone's character) and that negligence never solves anything. If you forget about it, no, it won't just go away. I know I am speaking in rather vague terms; my attempts to fairly divide USAID-donated sewing machines amongst townsfolk have been stressful. Two planned projects (those who originally requested the machines) essentially failed and now six months later I am trying to better the situation. I am sure of the causes of failure which at least will help me prevent a similar situation in the future. One group of women is beyond their "golden age" of association work and choose instead to play solely the role of mother; the other never got off the ground due to illnesses in the leadership and lack of time. People who are often more capable of project management are those who also seek to take on too many projects. Also, in the face of want, most people are desperate to profit. At least the angst and fire-fighting was worth it and in the end the machines were placed with two deserving groups: Yehiya Ag Mohammed representing the artisans and Aissata of the women's group "subaa naffa" (meaning Choosing to Benefit). 

Assoc+subaa+naffa2.jpg 

It was Aissata who said, upon receiving the machines for her group of youth, korombata toosi ga tonton bangu ra or "The peeing toad adds to the pond." This warmed my heart--that she was truly appreciative of even the little help I could provide.

Ouijila Recipe

In response to a posted comment...

The following is a traditional Northern dish, Ouijila, which I have learned to make alongside my good friend Zeinaba Adama. For those of you reading in country, I do take requests for Ouijila making kits complete with pounded spices and non-perishable ingredients. The recipe below, converted to Ameriki measures makes enough for a family-style meal for 6-8 people.
NB: It may take a few times to get the following in a good tastey balance because the conversions were made off of the typical market measures which change from vendor to vendor and are based on the monetary amount of the item you are purchasing. For example, you buy 100FCFA of "tawatl albashar" the date paste.

Ouijila dough:
10 cups wheat flour
4 T active dry yeast
1 T salt
4 cups water

Clean out a large basin or bowl. Mix water into 8 cups flour until the gluten forms. Mix in yeast. Add flour by the 1/2 cup-full if it is too sticky. Mix in salt. Kneed until when poked the dough returns to it's pre-poked form. Let dough rise for 1hr in the Malian heat, it may take longer in cooler temperatures. Wait until dough has doubled in quantity. Shape into small rounds. Lie out on counter-top or clean grass mat to rise again.

As the dough-balls are rising, begin the sauce:

2lbs beef (steak-cut style not ground) or mutton, cut into chunks
2 large onions, chopped
1/2 cup oil
1t cumin
1/2t black pepper
1/4t red pepper
2t ground cinnamon
1t gound sun-dried tomatoes (for those in Mali, make sure you dissolve dried tomato powder in water and strain, there is always grit in it)
1/4 cup tomato paste, dissolved in 1 cup water
4 T date paste dissolved in 1 cup water (or whole dates, pitted and mashed, diluted w/water)
2-3 bay leaves
4 cloves garlic, crushed
1 clump of "kabe" moss, pounded and rolled between palms to remove black underside (tree bark remnants)
1 cube maaji chicken flavor, 1 cube Jumbo (Elsewhere chicken boullion and MSG will do)
Salt to taste

Set a pot on the stove or cook-fire  full of water to boil for steaming. For the sauce, in a large cookpot, sautée meat with one of the chopped onions in the oil. When browned, add cumin, both peppers (increase red pepper if you like spicier foods), cinnamon, and sun-dried tomato powder. Sautée until aromatic. Add reconstituted tomato paste and date pastes. Bring sauce to a boil. If too thick add water a cup at a time. It should be a soup-like consistency. Add remaining ingredients. For those of you opposed to MSG, I'd just like to say, "Maaji et moi, le secret de bonheur!" Let the sauce simmer (add water if it is sticking) as you steam the dough.

At this point the dough balls should have doubled in size again unless you went to a boutiki that sold you old yeast. Prepare a double-boiler of sorts--with the pot of boliling water upon which you affixed a metal collander with strips of damp cloth to seal the two together. Or, you go to your local garasa/blacksmith in market and have him pound many holes in the bottom of a wok-style metal pan or furno top to serve as a collander. Or, if you are elsewhere and have access to Chinese-style bamboo steamers, use them. Basically the dough balls should be place in the collander in a dampened cloth or dampened rice sack and covered with the lid of the pot so the hot air doesn't escape. Steaming for each batch of 8-10 depending of the size of the steamer should take about 10 minutes. If you are cooking over a fire, watch you don't catch the steaming cloth on fire. It adds to the excitement but ruins a perfectly good rice sack :)

When the ouijila is steamed, serve 2-3 per person with the sauce for dipping. If you don't feel up to the whole steaming process, once the sauce is prepared, place balls of dough directly into the sauce pot until the sauce is covered with dough. Close the pot and simmer until dough is cooked through. This is known as toosa-toosa in the Gao region or toukas in Timbuktu. It is just as delicious and saves time. Enjoy!! A ma ni naffa!!

Halfway to Boiling

We had a good laugh realizing as we made the brownie batter it was already halfway to boiling in the heat. We were making comfort food for the "consolidation." It seems I bring unrest where ever I go! 

Early Monday morning, I awoke to gunshots and tracers flying overhead. And then I went back to sleep. So, now my teammates and even PC staff joke I deserve a T-shirt which reads "I survived a rebel attack on my town and all I got was this stupid T-shirt." 

It wasn't until 5am when Aliou called (I ignored it), then my teammate up in Gao saying rebels attacked Ansongo, then Aliou again asking me if I was safe inside my house, then another teammate in Gao, then PC staff etc etc that I started to get worried. Thankfully, I was escorted by Aliou to the last bus leaving town. 

N.B.: 2 years ago today Robyn and I were running down Commonwealth Avenue in the rain, soaked to the bone, upon graduating from Boston University!

Both of us volunteers in Ansongo got offered early COS with full benefits--and both of us turned it down. The work is more important; not to mention the chance of another attack very low. I just hope with recent attacks in northern Segou region (boarders with Mauritania) this isn't a general escalation...Alaafiya ma kaa!

Marriage proposal #808

Youssouf Haïdara, formerly the Chef of the Bazi Gourma CSCOM says, "Manna dey?" 

I told him I bought one, it didn't please me, so I returned it. And I don't have the patience to try another. Much to the amusement of the hospital staff lounging around after work. 

Rabble rousing

Because of my work at the hospital I wasn't able to get tenda completion materials--the grass and reed vendors sell out early. But I chased down the boat of hoobu vendors and got one for 300F. My water jar had cracked and with hot season you can't go without cool water. 

The basketball girls have stopped playing. I assume it is the heat. 

I don't blame them. Friday, I slept and relaxed at home all day. When I did stop by the hospital to greet later in the afternoon, people were asking where I had been all day. I said, "Sometimes people don't know where Mariama is and that's a good thing!" 

With dinner, we ate hippo. I guess the guy who has hippo skulls on either side of his concession's entrance shot another menacing hippo last week and sent Bébé her bagga. The meat is very very chewy. They had to pound it so I could eat it. 

The school children have gone insane. Basically, rioting because the teachers aren't giving homework or compositions or exams. On Thursday the high school students marched into town and harassed the elementary school teachers and students. I have never seen so many kids hike a 6ft wall so quickly (the hospital and school share a wall). All the students, wielding rocks and torches marched to the commandant's place up on the hill. But the gendarmes did nothing. Friday evening, Bazi kids were marching and chanting through the streets. It is interesting to see the students demanding better treatment--it is especially serious for high school students who count on passing the BAC to get into the university in Bamako or vocational school. Even 9th graders who will go straight into trades still need their DEF to get into nursing school or accounting school. But will this rabble-rousing come to anything? 

Mean Mariama

This is getting ridiculous. It makes me not wanna do nice things for people anymore. The cell phone charger guy (guy under a tenda with a generator and lots of power strips) told me to get him some medicine. Of course I refused. This time when I dropped off my phone, and then when I went to pick it up, he refused to give it to me until I gave him some medicine for malaria. I tried to explain 1) I’m not a doctor and 2) the hospital is right there!! Not kidding you, he sits kitty-corner from the hospital gate. Finally a friend of his intervened and I got my phone.

The wife of my landlord’s younger brother says she is worried her child is eating too much dirt. I told her typically this a sign of a lack of iron or a general mineral deficiency. There is multivitamin syrup in the pharmacy (where her brother in law works) or she should boil some liver for him. Give him a mango or some green leafies like okra. When I passed the pharmacy I told my landlord to bring her the vitamin syrup. She comes by again after dinner because my landlord forgot. So I told her when she goes to the market tomorrow, go get the vitamin syrup. Then, this morning, she sends another child to get a prescription. Again, I had to explain I’m not a doctor and quite frankly she needs to go get the vitamins herself—I already helped by telling her why her kid is eating dirt, now use the knowledge and help yourself!

At the hospital I was number crunching and found we have all “alarming” statistics. Abandons, deaths, non-responses are all too high and treated/released as healthy kids are too low. At least the number of kids we consult are up from last month. Plus, the Chef is deciding to change the national protocol. We should only give wheat flour to malnourished pregnant women or breastfeeding women instead of the norm of CSB plus oil and sugar. We do mix it before giving it out so the women don’t use the sugar for tea and the oil for cooking…but why can’t we even try to respect the norms? Because, Bébé tells me, “There is no protocol in Ansongo.”

Destiny

Our dear neighbors, the Community Radio Nata, had a “rap” concert last night. This consists of the same basic beat playing over and over with various youth attempting to rap in either Songhoy or French. It’d be entertaining if it wasn’t from midnight until 3 am! I took the time to call Le Boy.

Back in Ansongo (I ended up waiting until the Monday morning Niamey bus because halfway down the road out of town on Sunday I realized I left all my drugs back at the house. Oops), we received 52 babies for weighing. The ACF doctors came for a supervision in the CSCOMs, but stop by to see how we were doing. A girl who was only moderately malnourished 3 weeks ago came, now severely malnourished with complications. She had been marked abandoned because the mother had stopped coming in for visits. The child didn’t even react to the VAA/VAR needle prick. She drank some milk, but was clearly beyond help. I went to go make some sugar water while Bébé was trying to get her to take her medicine; I come back, and she had stopped breathing. Bébé just says: “That’s destiny.” Cause of death filled-in as “destiny” is not an acceptable answer for me.

People are starting to think about my departure scheduled in um, another 5 months. I think it is because I am pressuring them into working by saying I’m not going to be here forever. So someone asked for my stove, another for my radio, I’ve received plenty of requests for the bike, the women in Djéfilani asked for a sewing machine. Once again, “if you give a mouse a cookie…”