The Double Standard

THE DOUBLE STANDARD: Soon after the construction of the Tangarwashane borehole, Denis and I called a village meeting to order.  When I arrived, I was astounded to see that I was the only women.  I asked, “where are all the women, particularly the women members of the management committee?”.
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The Family Portrait

THE FAMILY PORTRAIT: In this photo, you can see Alhassan with his wife, Sadouan, and their children.  Mouheini, who you might remember from another photo, is their eldest child.  She was not present when this photo was taken, given that she was in her husband’s camp tending to her own children. 
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The Inconsistencies of Parenthood

THE INCONSISTENCIES OF PARENTHOOD: This photo depicts Salah and his youngest daughter.  Salah is one of my best friends from the Azawak.  He is married to the outspoken Raichatou, the leader of women in our community of Tangarwashane.  Proud of his delicious cooking, he relishes making tagala (sand bread) when I visit.  Like most Touareg fathers I know, he adores his children, and spends much of his time cuddling with them.  He even opened part of his home to start the first school of Tangarwashane. Read more…

Hope

HOPE: Before I end my “Children of the Azawak” series to move on to my “Father’s Day” series, I want to thank everyone who has joined this journey of love for humanity, and in particular, these gorgeous children.  I hope that through their beauty, you have sensed their being, if only for a fraction of a second… that you have witnessed their dignity as much as their daily suffering. Read more…

Is Suffering Relative?

IS SUFFERING RELATIVE?  Over the past couple of days, I have received very nice comments following a few of my posts expressing concern and sadness for the conditions that my friends in the Azawak endure.  I am grateful that your heart has been moved.  Mine certainly was moved 12 years ago when I first visited the Azawak, and still is today as @ammanimman works to make life saving changes in the region.  And yet I’ve come to understand the suffering of my friends there differently. Read more…

That’s a Camp?

THAT’S A CAMP?  This little boy and his mother were the first Wodaabe that I met in the Azawak.  In fact, their camp was the first Wodaabe camp I had ever seen.  When I met them, they were sitting together in the middle of grasses underneath the blazing sun.  The mother was mending a shirt, and her son sat patiently next to her, intently observing my every move.  Read more…

Takat

TAKAT: Takat and her group of little girl friends were my shadows during the month that I lived with their nomadic community.  They walked with me to neighboring camps as I conducted my Fulbright research, took me to visit marshes and wells, taught me traditional games and words of Tamachek, and ate illiwa by my side.  Read more…