By Kathryn Richards, CARE International UK
Niger is a country of contrasts. Rich in newly found uranium and oil but its people crushingly poor. Villagers wear beautiful, brightly coloured clothing against a desolate desert background, seemingly devoid of life.
My translator joked that in reality, the only thing that Niger exports in scale is ‘poverty’ – its young men are pouring over neighbouring borders to seek work during the hungry season.
I have travelled extensively to developing countries around the world but never before have I seen poverty on such a devastating scale. The capital Niamey seems to lack a business centre of any kind.
As we head into rural Tahoua region a pattern begins to form. Each village is populated by bell jar-shaped grain stores made from mud or clay. They seem to indicate that all is well - the cupboards are full. But in every village the story is the same – the grainerys are empty, they have been for weeks, and in some places months. The villages seem locked in a time warp; I wonder if they would have looked any different had I visited a hundred, maybe five hundred years ago. The truth is they might have done – they may have looked in better state back then when rainfall was more reliable and droughts were a rare occurrence rather than an increasingly normal expectation.
The traditional ‘hungry season’ is supposed to have only just begun, but nearly all my CARE colleagues tell me it has been this way since February. Animals are the lifeblood of this landscape, and without them there is no rural economy. Yet when we came across a cattle market I watched with sadness as a farmer untied his cow from a cart, all pointy bones and fierce horns. It had been too weak to walk to market and the herder wanted it to appear strong so as to get a good price.
Food is readily available in the market – but at an inflated price few can afford. Families are selling off their livestock at reduced prices to buy food. Mohammed Gusnam was one of these people. A pastoralist in the village of Tajae Nomade, he has nine people in his family but his livelihood has been decimated by the food crisis. Mohammed used to have more than 100 animals – camels, cows, goats. Now he only has one goat – and another a friend has lent him. When I spoke to him, he looked like a broken man, not willing to meet my eye.
"It is difficult. As herders we were like princes, proud. Now the pasture land is disappearing and we are stuck in the village. The village is like a prison to me."
CARE is working tirelessly in Tahoua and throughout Niger with the government, local communities and other aid agencies to help restore pride and dignity in people like Mohammed. It feels like time the rest of the world got on board with this effort too.