IRIN Focus on the life of Sahelian nomads

Standing over six feet tall and dressed in a dark blue flowing gown and matching head cloth that exposes only his nose and the sunglasses covering his eyes, Abdou Rahaman was quite an imposing sight. A Tuareg nomad who wanders with his small herd of goats, donkeys and camels through the scrubby desert, Rahaman, estimated his age at about 36. "I don't know when I was born and I don't think that is very important," he told IRIN in the dusty wasteland dotted with acacia trees near the small oasis town of In Gall. Like thousands of other Tuareg herdsmen from all over Niger, Rahaman had come for the "Cure Salee." This is an annual gathering and festival that takes place towards the end of the rainy season. The herds of animals purge themselves of parasites and top up on minerals from the salty grass that grows nearby while their owners meet relatives, arrange weddings and strengthen social bonds. A city of tents springs around the small town in late September as nomadic herdsman from the Tuareg and Peul tribes flood in with their families and the gathering reaches its climax. Rahaman, a father of four, was hoping to make a little money on the side at the festival, which takes places 700 km northeast of the capital Niamey, by selling jewellery. The tall, proud man said he had spent his entire life moving from one place to another within northern Niger. He saw no need to send his children to school, but added that there were very few schools in the area, anyway. "Life in the bush is very simple and easy," Rahaman said, extolling the virtues of nomadic life. "I have no experience of living in town and I have no desire to try it," he said. "My desire is to have more animals." Caught in between Sitting about a hundred metres away from Rahaman was Saima Matalie, a Tuareg woman with six children, aged about 40. She had put up a tent which she was hoping to rent to visitors attending the festival. Matalie, who is now widowed, told IRIN she would quite like to live in town. But she was ambivalent on whether she would totally embrace the lifestyle. Dressed in a simple long black dress, with a thin silver embroidered cord around the neckline, she said she would quite like to try out life in town, but was deterred by the "high cost of living there". "I would like to be 'civilised' and live in town, but you need a lot of money to live there because you must rent a house, buy food and pay for water," she said. Like Rahaman, she said she had no interest in education. "The Tuareg life is very easy and there is not much work," Matalie said. But she noted that life in the bush was changing, with many nomads becoming poorer as they lost their animals to disease. Such losses were making nomads uncertain of their future and causing them to start thinking of other options for survival, she noted. "But modernisation would not be very easy - I think it is a difficult and complicated way of living," she concluded. Tuareg life too hard A few steps away, Ahmed Abdul, a very different Tuareg, surveyed the gathering tribesman. Dressed in a white T-Shirt, a pair of blue jeans and a white cap, he had adopted a completely different way of life. Orphaned at the age of three, he was sent to live with an uncle who worked as the house servant of a policeman in Nigeria. Now aged 34, Abdul is a driver for the United Nations and a modern town dweller. It seemed a tragedy when Abdul was separated from his eight older brothers and sisters and was sent to live with an unknown relative in a different country. But in retrospect, he says it was a blessing in disguise. "When I was about six years old, he took me to school and it was his boss, a policeman, who paid fees for me for four years," he told IRIN. "Unfortunately, at the age of 10 I dropped out of school because my uncle's boss was transferred and we could no longer raise the fees... but I knew how to read and write," he said. Abdul left Nigeria in the mid-eighties, after a military regime ordered unauthorised foreign residents to leave the country. He travelled back to Niger and rejoined his extended family in the bush, but could not settle into the nomad life. "Having not really lived in the bush since childhood, I did not like it - it is a very difficult way of life," Abdul said. He then set out to live with one of his older brothers who was a driver in Niamey who took him to a driving school. Abdul started off driving public transport vehicles in the capital and eventually landed a job with the UN. Now he lives with his wife in a modern concrete house in Agadez, an oasis town that straddles the main road across the Sahara desert to Algeria. "I cannot fit into the life of following animals wherever they lead," Abdul said. The blue men of the desert The Tuaregs are a people of the Sahara. Sometimes they are called the blue men of the desert because the men wear indigo dyed turbans, called sheshes. According to official statistics, they constitute about three percent of Niger's population of 11 million. Political changes and a series of droughts and famines have forced many of them to abandon their cows and camels and settle in towns. But there are still many who follow their age-old customs and wandering lifestyle in northern Niger, Mali and southern Algeria. Once the Tuaregs controlled the caravan trade across the Sahara, but transport is now shifting to trucks, but some Tuaregs still lead caravans of camels carrying salt across the desert. The men are tall, lean and have huge dark eyes and many have light skin, but you seldom see their faces, which apart from the nose and eyes are wrapped in their indigo face cloths. The women, on the other hand, go around in public with their faces uncovered and the Tuaregs' social organization is based on a modified matrilineal system which gives women an important role in the society. Children trace their lineage through their mothers. While families may suggest suitable mates to their sons and daughters, both men and women may say no and select their own spouses. Likewise, both women and men have the right to divorce. Women inherit property, which then belongs separately to them. No problem with nomadic life It is not just the Tuaregs who are caught between the old and new ways of life. In the distant desert village of Tagdom in the outskirts of Agadez, 19-year-old Dro, a member of the Peul tribe, also known as the Fulani, told IRIN that he had never been to school. Dro, who owns four cows, said he had "absolutely no problem" with spending his life as a nomad, following his animals through the scrub. "All I wish is to have are more cows, and good health to take care of my little brother since our father is now old," he said, letting out a smile that exposed his snow-white, perfectly lined teeth. The Peuls are spread throughout the semi-arid grasslands of West Africa from Senegal to Chad. There are about 80,000 of them in Niger, living on the milk, butter and cheese that their cows produce. Dressed in a black long robe and sporting a white turban that just failed to cover his long braided hair, Dro proudly introduced his younger brother, Haida, who had very different ideas about what he wanted to do in life. Haida, with his long plaited hair, parted in the middle, and colourful necklace and bracelet, proudly told IRIN in French that he was in school. "I would like to become a soldier when I finish, buy a big car and work with white people," he added. According to Dro, who only speaks Peul, Haida is in school because of a campaign by the UN Children's Fund (UNICEF) to teach more nomad children to read and write. UNICEF representatives, preaching the virtues of education, had reached their small village. "My father decided to have Haida go to school," Dro said. "His life has changed. He has no cows and I don't think he will have them, because all his time he now spends in school and we have accepted that as his work,". Education should suit nomad's needs Mahamadou Mhamane, a traditional Peul chief from western Niger attending the Cure Salee, noted that many of the nomad children who had been educated had got good jobs or had emigrated to find work in wealthier countries. "Most of them, once educated, tend to go abroad," he said. However, the old man pointed out that the current school curriculum did not fit in well with the needs of the nomadic people and was not relevant to their lives. "Apart from reading, writing and counting, they should also teach how nomads can increase their animal produce or just how they can take better care of their animals using the modern ways, including medicines," he told IRIN. Mhamane stressed that the cow was central in a Peul's life and if the tribe's education could be tailored round this belief many more would be willing to go to school. "A Peul without a cow is not a Peul," he said. "Even as I am here in In Gall, I know my cows are missing me just as I am missing them," he said. "Cows are part of our families and we communicate with them, they have feelings." Asked how many cows he had, the chief replied: "I cannot tell you how many because you too cannot tell me how much you earn if I asked you so." Mhamane said that nomads were slowly but surely feeling the pressure of modernity. "Space will also be a problem in the near future," he pointed out, adding that the number of animals in each family herd was decreasing because of diseases. But he bemoaned the fact that any bright students who wanted to continue their studies had to abandon the nomadic way of life completely. "Another problem is that after primary school, there are no secondary schools around, so for the very few determined students, they have to move to town," Mhamane said. Throughout the year, Mhamane's Bororo sub-tribe of the Peul wander the scrub and desert with their herds. "They traverse borders and keep moving - they often move at night," one resident in Agadez told IRIN. To them, possession of cattle is considered a symbol of health and well-being. Each cow has a name and the level of respect of a man is based on the number of cattle he has. The men tend their herds, while the women milk the cows, prepare butter and cheese, weave cloth and prepare the daily meals. They are expected to obey their husbands. Although the wife must always follow her husband, she should never be seen too close to him in public. The Bororo follow strict moral values, emphasizing generosity, honesty and respect towards others. They are generally seen as very reserved in public. They are distinguished by the importance they give to the personal beauty. "Our lives revolve around our teeth and general beauty," one man told IRIN." "The care of one's teeth is very important. They have to be snow white. We use traditional herbs to ensure this," he explained. "The teeth is the first statement of beauty for a Bororo," he reiterated, adding that those who lose their original teeth through old age are only too willing to spend a fortune on having false teeth fitted. "It is a disgrace to have no teeth," he said. "The hair too is of great importance to us. Women work very hard to keep their hair nourishing it with all possible traditional oils." The children are marked with decorative scars on their faces, which are regarded as symbols of beauty. Bororo people are considered mysterious and are believe to have magical powers, by other ethnic groups. "People seek them for love charms especially," a driver from the Jirma ethnic group said. "We find them mysterious, they move at night and we have never known what they eat - you can never see a Bororo eating," he added. Cure Salee the melting pot The Tuareg, the Peul and many other peoples of the desert including Hausas from the south, Sudanese from the east and Arabs from Algeria and Libya to the North, come together at the Cure Sallee. It is estimated that at least 50,000 nomads gather around In Gall during the Cure Salee. Many of them take advantage of the gathering to trade animals for salt, sugar, tea and other supplies needed during their months of grazing in the wild. Since 2000, the UN Children’s Fund (UNICEF) has seized the opportunity presented by this festival to carry out activities in the health, education and sensitisation of the community on varied issues. It organises short classes for adults in which they are sensitised on health issues, including nutrition, vaccination, malaria, HIV/AIDS. UNICEF also uses the opportunity to sensitise communities on the drawbacks of certain of cultural practices, like early marriages.