"Make an effort, will you?"

Several weeks ago, I finally got my good friend Mariama on the phone. I had wanted to see her for a long time but didn’t know where she lived (she got married last year) and the phone number she used in March wasn’t valid any longer so I couldn’t reach her. Finally, she called me on the project phone and I invited her over one Friday afternoon, which she seemed thrilled about. I was really looking forward to seeing her again; after all, we were inseparable during all those teenage years and I consider her one of my closest friends in Niger. Last year, I briefly met her husband and I was looking forward to seeing their little son, Ahmed. So even though I had a lot to do, on Friday afternoon, I was there waiting. The coffee was hot, the cakes were on the table and I had a little bag of presents, both for her and for the baby. But Mariama did not show up.

She did not send me an sms either. Nor did she send a girl with a note (as she usually does), nor come by and see me and see if we could perhaps find another time. Finally, I sent her an sms myself a week ago, saying that I was sorry she had missed our rendez-vous as I was really looking forward to seeing her again, and perhaps she could get in touch and tell me when would be a good time. Then all of a sudden my sister-in-law phoned and said there was a girl at her door with an urgent message to me from Mariama. Here goes the note:

Zinder the 30th 2007

Many good things I wish you, my dear! First of all, please excuse me for missing out on your appointment the other day, I was sick. My husband and son greet you! Esther, please, I have a problem that I want you to solve for me. If possible, Esther, I need money and would like you to lend me 15,000 CFA (€25), it’s urgent. And you must give me a new appointment so that we can see each other. I am counting a lot on you. I’m sorry for having to ask you. I don’t know who else- Make an effort, will you? Or call me because I have no more money on my phone.

Mariama

Lol, now what is there to say about it? My only friend who has never asked me for money had suddenly found an “urgent” excuse to ask me for – what is in this country – a considerable amount, without either seeing me first or telling me what the cause of this urgency is. I wasn’t happy about it, nor was I surprised. After all, I am in Niger, and here, everybody thinks that I have infinitive sums of money stored away. After all, I have relatives, relatives in Sweden, relatives who work and who should be able to provide me with all the things that I lack, at the simple price of my independency. That’s the line of thought from this culture at least.

But I have no such relatives. I have no such family. I do not possess an infinitive amount of money. It is true that – from their perspective at least – I do have money, but the money I do possess is expendable and my only option is to make it last. I have money, but I do not walk around – in true Nigerian atmosphere – wasting it on all sorts of unnecessary material things such as new shoes, clothes, perfumes and handbags. Last year, Mariama had an over-paid job working for as a nurse for MSF, but although she earning twice what the state would be providing, she complained that the MSF were probably not giving them all their fair share. This is Niger in a nut shell. And yes, I am sure that more money will help this country. It brings forth such power of initiative and positive thinking. Not.

So back to my friend and I. I was disappointed by the letter, because Mariama was my only friend who had never begged me for anything before and this was one of the reasons why I felt so close to her. I didn’t feel that she was after me for my money. Now all of a sudden, she spills no time getting right down to business. She has not even been over to say “hi”, but she is already sure that I will feel obliged to “make an effort” and give her (which would be the equivalent of lending in this country) half a salary because it is “urgent”. Well, isn’t it always? I have still not made up my mind what exactly I’m going to say about the money, but I sent her an sms inviting her over on Tuesday afternoon, and then I’ll just have to take it from there. Handing her the money would by my way of giving up on our friendship, and even if I would be willing to do that, I’m not sure I care to spend €25 on doing that.

Mariama and I posing in front of the monkey cage (1994)

Mariama and I posing the Nigerien way (1996)

Mariama and I in "uniforme" (1997)

Maybe I’m just being overly skeptical and that she has indeed a legitimate problem for expecting me to hand over this money, but it’s like all things in Niger – they all believe in a quick fix and yet you have to learn that there is none. “Alternative strategies” is a good expression but translating it into something that they understand and want to listen to is another matter. Now, from all this I have learned one thing. In Niger, you have acquaintances, some of which you enjoy to bits. However, true friendship is hard to achieve because there will always be that little element of coming from different social environments and having difference skin tones. I’ll never stop being a nasara, but I will at some point, stop expecting that I will one day stop being one and that my friends will stop evaluating my monetary worth. It doesn’t make me cynical though, because after all, I am here for them and not the other way around. Unfortunately, help in my opinion is the contrary of handing out gifts and creating dependency, and so I lose my “friends” over it. But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t joy in having relationships, because if you just managed to develop someone, then you’ve given your day some worth.

Ishtar

Peaceful

Today, Aissa came over and stayed for dinner. Believe it or not, but we were having tomato soup again! It's Anette's favourite... Anyway, it was very nice to see Aissa again. She's my oldest childhood friend, we met in 1986.

She is currently working for the American Red Cross in the Tanout region (as a translator). We drove her home - actually it's her sister's house - and stayed for the siesta.

Anette and Sofia were keen to go with me and they enjoyed the visit, even though neither of them speak much French (Anette is picking it up, though!). It's a very peaceful thing to sit and talk in a Nigerien courtyard, surrounded by red brick walls and a deep blue sky.

They asked me about my mother and when I told them how things are going, they cried. She's being missed by many, but then again, she is a very special person. A mother to many.

They offered us mint tea and just watching Aissa's sister-in-law prepare it was a treat. It's such a ritual - I never get tired of it.

There are three servings of which the first one is the strongest. We drank two. Guess which ones my dear friends enjoyed the most...?

Anette behind the camera, as always!

Aissa's father (Daouda) was there and it was very nice to see him again. I have only seen him a few times since I stayed with them for a week in 2000. I asked him how the family was doing, and he told me that they were doing well (they are nomads, living in the bush) but that there was little fodder this year. He had lost a lot of cows last year, about forty, and only had twenty left.

Although I felt ill before we left, I'm happy we went there because it was a very nice afternoon. Though I worry about many things right now, you can't stress under the African sun and I needed the time-out. Just being there, sitting there, talking about all and nothing, laughing, crying, drinking tea and not thinking so much about life. Yes, I needed that.

Ishtar

Horses in place!

I forgot to tell you that on Wednesday this week, Ibrahim and Sani had put up the horse fence (that my father had designed), so on Thursday, Anette and I moved them over. Arwen and Sahara are now definitively the most spoiled horses of Zinder as free ranging horses is something unheard of in this country. In town, horses are tied to a post and only get to move their legs when they are taken out (unfortunately for them if they happen to be a race horse, then they only get to walk to the race track, gallop for the their life and then walk back to the post again). In the villages, horses may be allowed to "roam" the countryside but will have two of their feet tied together to prevent them from getting far... Arwen was the only horse (at least that I know of!) who used to be let loose in Josef and Renate's garden and people often commented on it. I couldn't leave her over night however as she had the habit of opening the water tap when she was thirsty (obviously, water straight for the tap is nicer than the one in your bucket!) but never closing it after herself... :-)

In their new enclosure, Arwen and Sahara can now trot around as much as they want, buck and play and roll themselves in the sand. And for my sake, it means not having to stress over acquiring two restless horses, because they are quite content just being together (that as well is an unusual thing in Niger: horses actually being kept together!).


The fun part is that I now have the horses close by, and a bunch of happy kids as well. First of all, there is Maurice's family who lives on the same compound. The kids are all proud to have horses at the other end of the garden, and even the smallest one know their names. They are also aware that Arwen is a great race horse! When I go out in the evening, one of them will always accompany me and we stand and talk for a long while (I have always enjoyed being with people and animals, and of course, the combination is a special treat!). Today, Anette and I went over and gave the horses a shower, and then we let the boys ride. We (or should I say I as Anette took over the responsibility of documenting) ended up letting all the kids of our street ride and that was a lot of fun, even though it took a lot of time! I came up a few rules and in the end, my riding school turned out to be a "friendship school" where you weren't allowed to sit up on the horse if you weren't being nice to your peers. You often find groups of children quickly becoming a mob in this country, but this group was well organised and I was really proud of them.

Now, that being said, Anette and I later went out by ourselves and enjoyed the Zinderien scenery... I hear many people talk about how they love the desert, but I will always be a savannah sort of person... Just give me some sunshine, a horse and a track and I will enjoy every moment of it...


Ishtar