What's in a New Moon?
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We spent the morning visiting our friend Hawa, a Tuareg lady who originates from the town of Timbuktu in Mali. In the middle of her yard is a makeshift tent made up of old UN grain sack and black plastic sheets on a rickety wooden frame. The Tuareg people have a tremendous tradition of hospitality and no sooner had she sat us down than she began preparation to be a proper hostess. It's very humbling to be on the receiving end from a lady who barely has two pennies to rub together, but to refuse would be very insulting and so we enjoyed reconnecting again following our year away over a bowl of rice and sauce. She seemed thrilled to have us visit her at this time of local celebration.
Today marks the end of Ramadan in Djibo town. In the weeks leading up to the new moon celebrations the tailors in the market are at their busiest working round the clock to get all their orders finished on time. As a tribute to their craft the streets of Djibo had been transformed into what can only be described as a fashion parade as men, women and children display their finest new attire. The visiting of neighbours and friends keeps the streets bustling with a myriad of colour and the children make their way from door to door with the all too familiar greeting of Keburuaaga as they stretch out their hands with the expectation of a small gift, monitory or otherwise (always good to have a large bag of sweets at this time lest you empty you pockets of all your change). 
Our afternoon was spent at home opening our door to numerous smartly dressed Fulani children, only we hadn't thought ahead by buying the recommended large bag of sweets. Needless to say we now have no loose change and our stock of biscuits have been seriously depleted much to Sam's displeasure.
The transformation of the north
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We left the tarmac road with a bit of a jolt and continued to jolt for the next 45 km as we weaved through the severely potholed road, more potholes than road to be honest, in search of some respite from the bone jolting before we all slipped a disc.
As we approached the Djibo hills we were met with a welcome sight... Green. Djibo and the surrounding area seemed to have exchanged its familiar reddish brown shroud for a carpet of green. If we hadn't seen the all too familiar landmarks we may have thought we had taken a wrong turning. The rains may have started late this year but for the moment there is rain that I have never seen the likes of before in Djibo. In the space of just one week Djibo has been visited five times with good downpours, more than the Fulani would normally be expected in a couple of months and one good friend, who is usually a constant pessimist, was being unnaturally optimistic when asked about the forthcoming harvest.
It's not as if they don't need a break. The year we have been away seems to have been a particularly harsh one with a poor harvest last year and a phenomenally long and intense hot season. People really suffered during this period and to top it all one of the harsh strains of malaria seems to have ravaged the area filling hospitals and taking its fair share of victims.
In some ways the town seems to have taken on some considerable changes with new buildings going up left right and centre. Even Djibo Lake is now sporting what looks like will be a rather spectacular hotel overlooking it. Who knows, maybe you will see Djibo appearing in Lastminute.com in the not too distant future. In other ways, however, and for most of the people we have come to know and grown to love, life goes on as usual seemingly unaffected by the town's expansion and changes to its skyline. For those who have no power life seems to just continue with the same constant struggles to survive and with no obvious solutions to their plight. If only we could bring some kind of Hollywood answer to these peoples situation and circumstances when the hero steps in and fixes everything with a few wise clichés.
But that's not real life, and so we continue to see how best we can serve in hope of making some modicum of a difference with the ultimate desire to see Jesus transform the seemingly impossible.
About Me
- The Gibsons on-line
- I live in Burkina Faso with my wife, Cheryl, and three children and have not yet found a house for us to live in and I work amongst the Fulani people.
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