Au village: Djilougou

Visiting my grandmother, Granda, is one of my favorite things to do. At her home in rural North Carolina, I could sit on the back porch stringing beans or peeling apples until the season changes without a problem. Even just thinking about the sunsets and our afternoon walks puts my mind at ease. I consider her friends to be my friends and, although we are at different stages in life, we greatly enjoy each other’s company.


Going to villages here is not hard for me because there is no electricity or running water. It’s hard for me because it is just like going to my farm. As much as I love it, I can’t stop thinking about Granda and wishing she were here with me. It’s a bittersweet feeling of pure joy and homesickness. It makes me want to hug everyone and cry in happiness as the children chase chickens and the women grind corn. Life is untainted. People are genuine. And the kitchen is the most important place.


To give you a mental picture, Ismaila’s village, Djilougou, is 107 Kilometers east of N’Gaoundéré (that’s about 66 miles- roughly 2 hours by car). You take a dirt road to another dirt road to another dirt road before hitting a dirt path that you then take by foot. Once you arrive, you go visit grandma and give her some fruit or fabric. She then tells you that you’re dirty and must be tired. You go bathe because red dirt covers your body from head to toe from the journey. After you bathe, you take a nap and are woken up with delicious food sent by grandma. You eat, and then take a walk to see the cows and visit friends. These visits either take place in the garden where you all pick leaves for the sauce you will later eat, or in the kitchen where food is being prepared.


Imagine there are 8 fields. Each field is roughly 2 acres and has about 30 people who are related living on this property. One acre is used for subsistence farming of corn, potatoes, and other crops. On the other acre, a family has built a red mud square wall around a portion of their land that contains 4 or 5 circular mud thatch-roof houses. Each house has a couple of beds and a place to store clothing. If you are a mother and father with 5 children, you all live in your red-brick thatch-roofed hut. Some now have tin roofs and painted walls. The kitchen is one large circular building shared amongst the family. This is where the action happens. It takes between 5 and 30 minutes to walk from one family compound to the next and everyone knows each other. If you hike up the mountain you can look down and it appears that there are scattered villages. But in Djilougou, all of these family compounds make up one village. They do not all share one ethnic group, and therefore speak multiple languages in the village, but rarely French.


Three years ago I went to Djilougou to meet Ismaila’s family and to attend their annual education meeting. Going back was like going back to my family farm. Although I had not been there in three years, everyone was excited to see me and treated me as if time had not passed. What I love about Djilougou, not only for my health and safety but for a potential Breaking Ground project, is how the community works together to take care of what they have. Every aspect of their lives is maintained to the best of their ability.


Although the citizens of Djilougou follow a conservative cultural Fulani lifestyle, and are far away from modern life, they are very progressive. In the village, it is easy to notice age gaps. Kids are either under the age of 7 or over 16. Education is very important and because they only have an elementary school, children are sent to N’Gaoundéré to live with their relatives to attend school. I was impressed to see that their homes are kept up very nicely. I did not enter one home that was not properly swept or untidy. I did not see one mouse or cockroach. The community recently built a new mosque, and is currently clearing trees and bushes to improve their entrance road. They had installed a generator in one building where kids can study at night. Their cows are strong and healthy, and they give them vitamins when they are sick. Their fields are well rotated and plentiful. I was even told to wash my hands before I ate.


As we walked from kitchen to kitchen, meeting women from different families, Mariamou and I asked women about their families and concerns. Every time, the women’s answers had something to do with health. Ismaila and I had previously discussed the idea of building an infirmary in Djilougou, but speaking with the villagers and hearing their justifications made the possibility more real. Some women said their concern is that when someone falls ill, it takes at least two days to find a car to drive them to the hospital (hospitals are in N’Gaoundéré or Bilel). What they have in mind is a room where the sick can wait for their ride. Since the village is very spread out, it is hard enough to make the walk to the road and then have to wait outside (especially given that you only go the hospital if your case is dire.) Other women want their children to be vaccinated, but can’t afford to pay the transport to send them to the city. They’ve been told that if they have a health center, the city doctors will come to them.


My retreat to Djilougou was uplifting for multiple reasons. One, the city had exhausted me and I needed a peaceful country vacation. And secondly, it revealed an option for a future project for Breaking Ground. Months ago, the village selected a site for the infirmary (alongside the road, which they are repairing) and has since cleared the area in preparation for construction. They are in the planning phase. They are going to surrounding villages to research the problems their health centers face, which medications and supplies are necessary to keep it fully stocked, and to learn how to organize weekly doctor visits.


I anticipate this becoming a small community project that will benefit many people and not be too expensive. I look forward to spending more time in Djilougou in the spring. Granda, want to visit?