The journey to Djenne was taken in some
comfort this time, as I sped northward in Ga’s new air conditioned Land Cruiser. The landscape has now
taken on the familiar dusty ochre shades once more, and temperatures are
soaring to reach about 40- the lovely oven heat of the of the dry season- not
to everyone’s liking of course, but I revel in it...
The baobabs are plentiful around Segou and
beyond towards Bla and San. I never grow tired of looking at these marvellous trees,
seemingly from another epoch or another world, the very emblem of West Africa.
After two days the team in the Djenne
Manuscript Library have managed to photograph
successfully the first manuscript in the new project, with the help of two
Timbuktu workers who came down from our project there to instruct the Djenne
team how to go about things in the way our new sponsors, Father Columba’s HMML
(Hill Museum and Manuscript Library) want to do things- the Djenne team is more
or less unchanged since I lived here and
we worked on the projects for the British Library’s EAP projects. They were happy
about some more work of course.
Agaly and Youssouf from Timbuktu were also
excited to visit their ‘twin sister city’ Djenne, and have been happily
strolling around discovering and praying
in the Great Mosque, as well as making a courtesy call to Iman Yelpha, who was
instrumental in arranging the signing of the peace accord between the warring
factions in the Djenne region last August. Here we are with Yelpha and his
closest friends and collaborators.
They sit together on the mats in front of
his Koran school in the early evenings before the prayer of sunset. People come
and sit down with them and ask their advice on various matters- if of a
delicate nature they can ask for a private audience with Yelpha who will then invite them
to sit on the sand floor in the Koran school where they can talk one-to-one. This
is what I did, because I had some money to give him from the project- he was
the archivist in the library before becoming Imam and he is still helping in many
ways. It is of course not very elegant to hand over money in the view of
others.
Yelpha has many mouths to feed. Apart from his four wives and 23 children there are almost every day strangers arriving at his doorstep seeking somewhere to stay and something to eat. He will always take them in- it is expected of an Imam. Even so, having just told me how he found that something of a struggle to manage, he went straight out to his friends and distributed the sum equally to his whole entourage! I think the role of Imam has made Yelpha grow more saintly... it could of course have gone the other way, it could have gone to his head.
To be the Imam of Djenne is a powerful position because everyone in Mali believes that he would have the power to exercise magic if he chose to. And Yelpha is of course a marabout...The previous Imam used to roll up at any of the Ministries in Bamako and just walk straight to the Minister’s office without an appointment - no one would dare stop the Imam of Djenne. But Yelpha is a gentler spirit, and he doesn’t abuse his position. The Prime Minister – who comes from Djenne- invited him to stay in Bamako at one of the rare visits there, when the Djenne population who live in Bamako would take the opportunity to see him.
‘Oh, that would have been nice! You would have had a lovely bed and all the luxury possible!’ I enthused. But Yelpha had refused. ‘The people would not have been able to come and see me there, and they would have thought that I had become too grand for them. I am of the little people (his very words) and I must stay where they can find me.’
Yelpha has many mouths to feed. Apart from his four wives and 23 children there are almost every day strangers arriving at his doorstep seeking somewhere to stay and something to eat. He will always take them in- it is expected of an Imam. Even so, having just told me how he found that something of a struggle to manage, he went straight out to his friends and distributed the sum equally to his whole entourage! I think the role of Imam has made Yelpha grow more saintly... it could of course have gone the other way, it could have gone to his head.
To be the Imam of Djenne is a powerful position because everyone in Mali believes that he would have the power to exercise magic if he chose to. And Yelpha is of course a marabout...The previous Imam used to roll up at any of the Ministries in Bamako and just walk straight to the Minister’s office without an appointment - no one would dare stop the Imam of Djenne. But Yelpha is a gentler spirit, and he doesn’t abuse his position. The Prime Minister – who comes from Djenne- invited him to stay in Bamako at one of the rare visits there, when the Djenne population who live in Bamako would take the opportunity to see him.
‘Oh, that would have been nice! You would have had a lovely bed and all the luxury possible!’ I enthused. But Yelpha had refused. ‘The people would not have been able to come and see me there, and they would have thought that I had become too grand for them. I am of the little people (his very words) and I must stay where they can find me.’
I am staying at the Campement Hotel again,
and I am looked after by Brin who was Keita’s friend and who is the Man Friday
of this old hotel. Here is is, sweeping up the inner court yard and chatting to
me this morning when I had breakfast. Every time I come here, there is an old
deaf mute man who comes and salutes me with a big smile. He remembers Keita and
this morning he came up to me as usual and uttered a sound that must have been
an attempt to say Keita, and he shook my hand and bowed deeply. That moved
me...
I remembered then the poor man everyone used to call ‘Le Fou’, he worked for years at my land in our mammoth task of bringing earth to raise the level of the land. He worked with a wheelbarrow, digging earth from the riverside and bringing it to the land, mumbling to himself on the way, and sometimes laughing at some memory perhaps. He was very skinny and tall and he would not stop working until he was physically stopped and turned in the direction of home, where his mother lived. Then he would walk home.
The story went that he had not always been like this: he had left a l’aventure’ as they say here- it means that a young man leaves home to find fortune. He will only ever come back if he can at least give some presents in his home village on his return, even if it is only some fabric for his mother. Otherwise he will never come back, he is too ashamed. Now I was interested in finding out about Le Fou. Brin was not sure whether he was still alive, but he told me that it is rumoured that the mother of le Fou had consulted a Marabout when her son had been away several years. There had been some sacrifices made and this had brought her son back to Djenne, but when he came back he was Le Fou. Noone knows what happened to him and how he became the way he was. There is now a theory that it is wrong to do maraboutage in order to bring back sons that have gone a l aventure, Brin tells me. If these men are not ready, if they have not ‘made it’ and cannot bring anything back, the shame can destroy them.
I remembered then the poor man everyone used to call ‘Le Fou’, he worked for years at my land in our mammoth task of bringing earth to raise the level of the land. He worked with a wheelbarrow, digging earth from the riverside and bringing it to the land, mumbling to himself on the way, and sometimes laughing at some memory perhaps. He was very skinny and tall and he would not stop working until he was physically stopped and turned in the direction of home, where his mother lived. Then he would walk home.
The story went that he had not always been like this: he had left a l’aventure’ as they say here- it means that a young man leaves home to find fortune. He will only ever come back if he can at least give some presents in his home village on his return, even if it is only some fabric for his mother. Otherwise he will never come back, he is too ashamed. Now I was interested in finding out about Le Fou. Brin was not sure whether he was still alive, but he told me that it is rumoured that the mother of le Fou had consulted a Marabout when her son had been away several years. There had been some sacrifices made and this had brought her son back to Djenne, but when he came back he was Le Fou. Noone knows what happened to him and how he became the way he was. There is now a theory that it is wrong to do maraboutage in order to bring back sons that have gone a l aventure, Brin tells me. If these men are not ready, if they have not ‘made it’ and cannot bring anything back, the shame can destroy them.
Ah, Africa...
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