Not much tension in the rebel capital, but the waiting goes on

Four weeks after government fighter jets bombed the rebel capital Bouake, life appears remarkably normal in this sprawling city in central Cote d'Ivoire. The market is open, roadblocks are rare, and mopeds speed through the quiet unkempt streets. There is one striking difference though. Instead of fearing new attacks, many residents believe they are now safer than ever. “People are much less worried about the war now,” said Salif, a middle-aged resident, married with twelve children. “Who would dare to attack again after this? Not the loyalists, and certainly not the rebels either. The loyalist army broke the cease-fire and paid a heavy price.” Bouake was attacked on 4 November by jet bombers as President Laurent Gbagbo prepared to launch a ground offensive against the rebel-held north of Cote d'Ivoire, shattering an 18-month ceasefire. The bombing campaign was cut short two days later when French peacekeeping troops destroyed the Ivorian air force on the ground in retaliation for a raid on a French military base in Bouake which left nine French peacekeepers dead. The destruction of Gbagbo's fighter jets and helicopter gunships has reassured the population of Bouake to the extent that many residents believe the loyalist army will no longer try to push for a ground offensive. The French military camp in Bouake was left in ruins by the bombing and French troops no longer patrol the city, leaving some restaurant owners desperate for clientele. Streets quiet after rebels requisition cars Salif explained that there were relatively few taxis driving around town because the rebels had requisitioned dozens of vehicles when the bombardments started. Those vehicle owners who had managed to hold on to their cars were keeping them well hidden, he added. Salif said his own car, an ancient Renault 12, had been requisitioned on the second day of the bombing. He retrieved it last week only to find that the engine had been wrecked. His car was an important source of income since he rented it to reporters, missionaries and pretty much anybody else who needed a vehicle. So did he file a complaint with the local self-appointed authorities? “Are you kidding?” he said, laughing. “For better or for worse, we just adapt ourselves to the situation. Who has a job in Bouake anyway? Nobody does.” If that is not entirely true, even those who have a job of sorts are not making much money these days. One shopkeeper selling traditional sculptures of wood and bronze said he made his last sale 10 days ago when a French woman soldier came in and bought a wooden elephant. “There used to be a lot of tourists in this town,” he said. “But there are only soldiers now.” The electricity and water supply and mobile phone lines, which are still controlled by utility companies based on the government side of the lines, were cut on 3 November, the night before the bombing campaign started. "Daddy, why don't you turn the light back on?" Many residents panicked as they knew it could be a sign that an attack by loyalist ground troops was imminent. Guillaume Soro, the leader of the New Forces rebel movement, had been warning of an imminent attack by government forces for several weeks. With no electricity or piped water, living conditions in Bouake deteriorated rapidly. But after eight days and heavy pressure on the government by the United Nations and the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), supplies were restored. “My five-year-old daughter asked me every night: daddy, why don’t you turn the light back on?” said one resident who asked not to be identified. “For me, that was much worse than the bombing.” Medecins sans Frontieres (MSF), which has kept Bouake's main hospital running since the start of the conflict in September 2002, said it had continued to work normally during the bombing campaign with the help of a generator. The lack of drinking water had caused cases of acute diarrhoea, MSF spokesman Fabrice Resongles said. But he stressed that there had been “absolutely no cases of cholera” despite foreign media reports that the disease had been diagnosed in Bouake. The power cut persuaded some shopkeepers to raise prices for goods like fuel, bread and meat, but most prices went down almost as quickly as they had risen after the lights went back on, residents said. Wholesaler Motibo Camara said that prices for milk, sugar, oil and rice were back to their usual level. Like many businessmen in northern Cote d'Ivoire, Camara buys most of his goods in neighboring Burkina Faso because foodstuffs are cheaper there than in the government-held south. Bribes exacted from lorry drivers by policemen and soldiers at frequent checkpoints haved pushed up the cost of transporting goods from Abidjan, 400 km to the south. “We can’t really raise our prices because people don’t have much money,” Camara said. Old banknotes will soon be worthless Much more worrying, he said, is the fact that residents have less than four weeks left to replace their old CFA franc bank notes with new ones before the ‘old money’ becomes worthless. Eight West African countries which share the same currency are replacing their old bank notes in a gigantic exchange operation launched in September by the Central Bank of West African States (BCEAO). Although the 31 December deadline for completing the changeover is fast approaching, the central bank has refused to reopen its branch in Bouake, which was attacked and looted last year. Camara, the wholesaler, said he exchanged his old CFA notes at a bank in Burkina Faso, not just for himself, but also as a favour for friends and family. But for residents with no means to travel, time is running out. Dozens of businesses in Bouake have put up a paper sign saying that they will no longer accept old notes by 10 December. There is one solution: at the local agency of the national lottery LONCI, money is exchanged informally. Depending on how filthy the old bank notes are, the lottery staff will trade old banknotes for new for a commission of up to 20 percent. But such deals are only possible if new notes happen to be available. Asked if he could estimate the amount of old CFA franc notes still in circulation, Junior Diabate, the local head of LONCI, said that perhaps 90 percent of the money in Bouake consisted of old bank notes. Diabate said he was confident that residents in northern Cote d'Ivoire would eventually be able to replace their old notes, although he did not suggest how this might happen. “I am sure that the BCEAO will try to find a solution when the deadline is near,” he said. Schools are still closed Other equally important deadlines for the ordinary people of Bouake have already passed. To the dismay of thousands of students, the start of the school year has been postponed. Three months ago, the minister of National Education announced that schools in the northern part of the country would not reopen until January because disarmament of the rebels was due to start on 15 October. However, the rebels refused to disarm on that target date, saying that political reforms should be approved by parliament first. It remains to be seen whether the Education Ministry will allow schools in rebel-held territory to reopen in January. Students whose parents can not afford education in southern Cote d'Ivoire or abroad risk losing several months of the academic year. “I am just waiting for school to begin,” said one shy, 17-year-old student who declined to give his name. “Waiting is all we do. It’s very monotonous.” “One really needs courage to put up with this kind of life,” he said.