39° in winter season, my eyes crack under the burning and dry breath of Linguère forests since several days
Looking at the skinny sheep grazing on the reddish, short and sparse grass that pastoralists call “bad grass”
Bad for the herd as the death angel when he’s taking human souls,
The grass keeps killing the herds, leaving pastoralist families in mourning.
Constipation,
Abdominal bloating,
Fasting,
Laziness!
Then finally death!
That’s how this new grass silently kills cattle
Decades ago, Linguère was the most attractive destination that provided the best pasture.
Now, the land rejects pastoralists like strangers at their own doorstep.
The grass is not just grass, it becomes unhealthy, invasive and a serial killer for them.
Now, they do not just move,
They have to move
To move seasonally from Linguère to Kaffrine, around 250km to protect their livelihood system.
Men, women, children, herds, some donkeys
The donkeys carry pastoralists’ lives in the classified forest where any infrastructure is built to hold these vulnerable communities.
In the morning, they keep walking,
Moving in their way…
In their way, under the stinging caress of the burning sun rays
They are accompanied by the indelicate choruses of the hot and dry wind
The hot and dry wind sucks the softness of my skin when it tries to resist this semi-arid area
Moving in their way, the talkative silence of the nature is whispering them its secrets,
Precious secrets passing down from generation to generation.
During the night, the “widdu”, a modest case, made by women’s hands with branch trees and grass, is the luxury hotel where they sleep like the homeless.
Sometimes, they take time to rest in this huge and classed forest,
At least, to feel less tired than they did the day or week before
Then, they keep their way.
As you know, in a context of climate change, the weather is capricious and unpredictable
The earth no longer remembers rains
But when it comes, it can be either generous or stingy
So, in pastoralists’ first and unique aid kit, a tarpaulin is looking forward to joining the show,
To show how useful it is when the heavy and windy rain comes to add some spice and vibration in this adventure.
In this jungle, nature’s allies are the prey of many predators: climate and environmental pressures, inappropriate policies, conflict with farmers, invasion of big investors, shrinking of pastoral landscape, wildfire, et cetera.
But here, they have a little hope.
Hoping to find welcoming rangeland: taller, appetising and tough grass to fatten,
Selling herds or working on labour crops for men.
And for women, selling milk is a necessity to buy rice and beans for lunch,
and costly water, for drink, after travelling 30km on a donkey cart to just find water resources.
Backward; wild; irrational and contemplative mode of production; savage
Sadly, that is how capitalistic policies see transhumant pastoralists.
Intensive and sedentary policy, great green wall, corridors, pastoral unit
Such amazing innovations.
But! But! But!
Did they include pastoral knowledge in policy making?
Innovating is good, but it’s better when it is made for and with the community
Cause everything that is done for me and without me is against me.
Wait! Wait! Wait!
Have we ever, once, thought about how pastoralists feel in this jungle?
For governments and institutions, transhumant pastoralism does not fit with modern life.
So, it should be better to find any possible way to marry them with modernity.
Is this an arranged marriage or a forced one?
In rainy season,
Milk forms in calabash,
Children run after singing cattle,
Joy is feeling through the green and beautiful landscapes, songs and dances.
But, through this prolonged drought,
Around 45° till 47°,
Hunger and thirst never give up
Even the cows fear the water
Cause drinking seems worse than taking a boiled cappuccino under a generous sun during summer.
For these vulnerable communities, moving is not backwardness, moving is survival.
About the author
Anta Betty Kantèye, a Senegalese sociologist and PhD researcher with the CLIMARES project, is exploring how pastoral communities in Senegal navigate climate change. Her work is grounded in the lived experiences and knowledge of pastoral communities and seeks to bring their stories and perspectives into wider conversations about climate and social justice. Through creative forms, such as this ‘narrative slam’ based on her fieldwork in the sylvo-pastoral and peanut basin areas in Senegal, she explores ways of sharing these experiences beyond academic spaces. Contact: Betty.kanteye@maastrichtuniversity.nl
Original publisher
This article was first published in the Pastoralism issue of Rooted Magazine, a platform for the exchange of voices, perspectives, and knowledge between food producers and others at the forefront of action to transform food systems.
When moving is survival (A narrative slam) - Rooted Magazine