The Future is Bright in Saint Louis

Saturday night a very special family joined us for dinner. I had been looking forward to seeing Oumou's six beautiful children  again.  Many years ago, long before the youngest, Mohammed had been born, we had visited  their home when our friend Samir welcomed us as guests. 

Samir had worked at our hotel in Saint Louis. He had been the first to welcome us on our very first trip. Each day I went for an early morning run around the island Samir would watch out for me. We had many talks about his pride for his children. The family was committed to the education of their children as their first priority. Lala is always at the top of her class, and Fadel usually is first or second in his. When ever we visited their home, all the children were proud to show us their exercise books and test results.

They chose to live in a very small, rudimentary two room house with a small sand courtyard in order to afford private school fees. Private school is not as what we would think of in Canada, but it does usually assure that the teachers show up and when they do that they do not spend much of their time on their smart phones. If one wants to advance to high school and succeed there, private school is nearly a necessity. It is not expensive, but for Samir, with fees to pay for three  children, it was a considerable burden. When the youngest at the time became old enough to be registered in school and Samir was not sure how he would cope, I began to help them out at registration time.

Two years ago Samir tragically passed away. His wife, Oumou, is not educated, and five of the children were under the age of twelve. The director of the school at first waived the fees for the older children. Due to their brilliance and promise, he did not want them to have to drop out of school. Extended family and Samir's former employer also helped out for a time. Working reselling charcoal and consumer goods, and cooking for neighbours, Oumou could earn enough to pay the rent or feed the family, but not both. Evntually the assistance trickled to a halt. Tragic stories such as this one are not uncommon here. Life, its hopes and dreams, can shatter in a heartbeat. Families adapt: children drop out of school, go to work, or the family breaks up to get parcelled out to live with and possibly serve distant relatives. This is the accepted way of things. 

But Oumou is different. She and Samir had sacrificed so much already for their children's' education. And, she is a fierce, determined mother with a will of steel.  She confided to me that her family would be separated over her dead body. So far, thanks to Oumou's perseverance and creativity and some help from Canada, all of her children continue to thrive in school and their happy family life persists, the children sheltered and protected lovingly by their mother from knowledge of the precariousness of their future.

Indeed, the optimism. and gratitude  in this family is almost shocking. When I presented the family with a Quran, gifted from a compassionate friend in Canada, Oumou was overwhelmed with happiness and expressed her belief that God has been so good to her family. So many in her situation would have a very different perspective.

The next afternoon, our dear friend Cheikh bounded joyfully to our hotel door to inform us of the birth of his second child. His wife was not due for several weeks yet and he had been anxiously preparing to return to his remote village in the bush. Their son came early, but both mother and child were healthy. Cheikh was over-whelmed with joy and gratitude, and hopes and dreams for his family.

 Cheikh works as a street-side cobbler in Saint Louis. And, just like Oumou,  he is the type of person who is optimistically willing to move mountains for his family and his community. From the example of Maison de la Gare Cheikh had the idea to build schools in the region of his village to offer local families  with little means an alternative to fulfil their wish to give their sons an education rather than send them to a daara in a distant city. The schools have become a Maison de la Gare supported pilot project to end forced begging. Most of the villages in the region have stopped sending their boys to the city to be talibés.  And, Chekh has found and returned many of the talibés from his area who were in Saint Louis back home. A happy effect of the schools is that now, for the first time,  girls are benefitting from an education  too, along side the boys.  Cheikh even thinks that with the return of young boys it will be less likely in future for girls to be  polygamously married off to older men. In fact, he is so optimistic for girls that Cheikh had hoped for a girl this time. But, of course he was just as grateful and over joyed to have another boy instead.

Despite the ever present reminder of the harshness of fate and the precariousness of happiness in the oppressive and abusive forced begging talibé system, optimism and ingenuity are alive and well in Saint Louis.

A Time to Shine

As the sun set before tournament day the Maison de la Gare-Sor karate kids set up the mats in preparation for the highly anticipated third Douvris Cup Classic. They had been delivered earlier that evening by horse drawn cart. Bouaro and I had compiled the lists of competitors earlier in the day, of the first four divisions planned for the morning. 20 young kids, white and yellow belts for kata and kihon. And, 11 older white belts also for kata and kihon. We were not sure who would be competing in the afternoon kata and kumite from among the more advanced dojo kids, and would need to wait to see who presented themselves to register. Bouro estimated perhaps 15.

Douvris Martial Arts in Ottawa had donated enough medals for all the participants. And, I had brought with me the names engraved on plaques of the previous Douvris Cup winners to add to the trophies. Robbie's final two WKC Championship sweaters would be given as Grand Championship prizes, and Douvris t-shirts for the runners up. 

As the sun rose on tournament day I could almost feel the nervous excitement of all those talibé boys. About half of them had competed in previous Douvris Cup Classics. For the rest, it would their first time ever being in a positive spotlight, with an opportunity to shine and be rewarded for it. To show they are individuals with the ability to persevere and excel at an activity of their own choosing, based on their own hard work and determination. For the gold medalists and 2 grand champions, true glory awaited.

Robbie and I arrived at the center around 8:30am. The person with the keys to the room where the gis are kept and the classroom where the tables and benches were had not yet arrived. The kids set to compete in the first divisions were present and were busy sweeping sand off the mats and setting up a tent in anticipation of the full burning sun later in the day. 

Eventually the keys were found. As the boys donned their gis, Robbie and I set up the prize tables and laid out the medals and the Douvris Young Guns Cup. The Douvris Cup for the older dojo kids was in Dakar, where the previous two time winner, Ahmadou Diallo had proudly taken it to his family. I knew there would be a chance he had not yet returned it so we brought a temporary stand-in trophy donated from a Douvris student to replace it. Talibés helped set up benches for spectators, happy to be part of what was about to happen. The WKF sanctioned referees began to arrive, professionally sporting suits and ties. The chairs were delivered in the nick of time, a referee was positioned in each corner. Sensei Ignéty Bâ of Sor Karate presided at the head table, score sheets ready. The referees bowed in the competitors. The first pair of kihon competitors was ready to begin.

As each person stepped on the mat for his turn to compete, their expressions ranged from palpable excitement to anxious anticipation to deep, focused concentration to steely determination. The kihon instructions were called out in Japanese. All the boys correctly recognized the instructions. None mixed up soto-uki with uchi-uki or oisuki with jatsuki. Each time the flags were raised, either blue or red, the expressions changed: in each pair one deflated and the other became exuberant.

Eventually fourth, third, second and first were determined. Then, the process was repeated for kata. At the end of the first two divisions we awarded the placing and participation medals. But, the presentation of the Douvris Young Guns Cup would have to wait. The next two divisions of Young Guns, the older white belts who practice at the Center in the morning (and are not registered in the dojo at night) were not all present. Apparently some had been told they would not be competing until the afternoon or had responsibilities at their daaras they could not escape. So, we broke for a mid-day break and prayers (Friday is the day most visit the mosqué). 

Ahmadou Diallo arrived to watch the tournament (without the Douvris Cup). Upon presenting himself to Sensei Ignéty Bâ, Sensei insisted he compete. Ahmadou had not prepared diligently to his own high standard and had already decided not to attempt to defend his title. But, out of respect for his Sensei, Ahmadou put on his gi and prepared himself to compete for the third time. Robbie took Ahmadou aside to help him warm up and advise him on his kata choice and execution. After a few run throughs and adjustments, Ahmadou's confidence and determination seemed to have been restored and he was ready.

At 4 pm we reconvened. The second two divisions of Young Guns were dressed and ready to go. 9 of the anticipated competitors competed. Maybe the nerve of the other two had failed. Maybe their marabouts had detained them, it was impossible to know. 

I was astonished at the skill and focus of these white belts. This competition clearly meant so much to them. During the competition for third and fourth place one of the missing karateka presented himself, out of breath. His marabout had given him many jobs to do and he had not been able to get away until completing his extra assigned labour. Unfortunately, at this late hour there was no way to fit him in. He would have to continue dreaming of his next opportunity for now.

The same candidate won gold for kihon and kata. He would be the Grand Champion of the Young Guns, supplanting the morning winner of one gold and one silver. But, none of them realized this yet. First, the two divisions of dojo kids would have to compete.

There were 17 dojo talibés competing. The katas were beautiful to watch, each one a triumph to me. After the finalists were determined we moved onto kumité. By this time the crowd of spectators had grown to several hundred. The cheers that accompanied every hit were sometimes deafening. For both the kata and kumité finals it came down to Yaya and and Ahmadou. Yaya, whose membership has been sponsored by Douvris Barrhaven since nearly the beginning, has devoted himself to karate and he had markedly improved since the last Douvris Cup Classic. Yaya won gold in kumité and Ahmadou won gold in kata. Once again, the competitors would have to await the presentation of The Douvris Cup to know who the Grand Champion would be.

But first, the presentation of certificates and belts to the successful candidates of the last grading. several yellow belts were awarded, Ahmadou received his blue belt!

By now dusk had fallen. The head of the Regional WKF Karate Federation assisted in awarding the medals. He respectfully asked Robbie to present the gold medals. Finally, it was time for the Douvris Cup and Douvris Young Guns Cup presentation. Adama Drammeh was the new Young Gun Champion. When we return next time, his name will be engraved on the cup beside the previous winners, Seydou Ba and Omar Sow. This clearly was the first tine Adama had experienced a triumph such as this or won a prize. Despite the 32C temperature, he would not remove his new WKC sweater. And, I expect he is still wearing his two gold medals. Ahmadou Diallo was exhilarated to receive the Douvris Cup title once more. I showed him the two name plates to put on the Cup for his previous wins and explained he had now earned a third, which I would bring next time I returned. He promised to bring the Douvris Cup back to reside at MDG well before the next Douvris Cup Classic. I told him he would be able to keep the other temporary trophy permanently in exchange.

A feast for the tournament competitors was presented. It seemed the rewards and the accolades would never end. Surely in the hearts of these boys, this day and these feelings will be permanently imprinted.

The courage, confidence and self assurance of these talibés has been uncovered and locked down thanks to karate. Even if due to circumstances they cannot control, any of them are unable to continue in the MDG-Sor karate program, they have learned what they can control. They will never lose the gifts karate has given them. Each of these boys has been forever changed for the better.

Like Coming Home

After arriving in Saint Louis we made our way to the Maison de la Gare Center. On the way we passed several groups of talibés: barefoot and in rags, carrying their begging bowls. They could not have been any older than seven or eight. A few talibés were on their own. Isolated in so many ways. unseen or detested, possibly pitied, by society. Abandoned by family. Neglected and tortured by the marabout to whom they have been entrusted. Existing void of affection or love. Their only friends are each other. And, Maison de la Gare.

It felt familiar and somewhat comforting walking up the alley toward the gates. We knew what awaited us inside: shelter, peace, welcome and friendship.

One of the first faces I saw was my friend Tijan. He had travelled from The Gambia to meet me. It was a joyous reunion. Tijan had been discussing the merits of an education with my friend, Souleymane. Souleymane has been a talibé for many years. And, he has been a karate student for years also. Robbie had the honour to present him with his yellow belt two years ago. Souleymane is seriously considering returning to The Gambia, as Tijan did, to enrol in formal school. He understands it will not be easy. Tijan, who has recently graduated with his high school diploma, has ensured Souleymane understands the challenges and the long road that awaits him if he chooses the path of education. Souleymane has made up his mind. He is going to do it. He has somehow developed enough confidence and self assurance to take this risk of the unknown in pursuit of a better future. Perhaps karate offered him this gift. Perhaps it was in him all along and karate helped him uncover it. Tijan's example showed him the impossible can be possible.

The next morning we returned to the centre, knowing there would be a karate class. As Robbie and I stepped through the gates carrying duffel bags filled with uniforms and karate supplies, the karate class that was newly underway came to a jolting halt. The karateka rushed us, calling "Sonia" "Sonia" Sonia" "Robbie". Bouaro's face lit up when he saw Robbie. The kids all reached out at once to touch or shake our hands. Then off they ran with the bags to put them away. The new students who had been waiting for Gi's dressed and so did Robbie and I. After we were bowed-in Bouaro asked Abdou to help translate the sentiments of himself and his students about how happy they were to have the karate program, and how it helps sustain them through their challenges. 

I brought out photos of some extraordinary philanthropists back home. I explained (again with Abdou's help to be sure I was understood) that children from our dojo,  Kaylie and Keagan save every penny they earn all year long to be able to help them have the chance to do karate. And Anna eschews birthday gifts and presents, asking only for money to help talibés become Maison de la Gare- Sor karate kids. I explained how these Douvris karate kids love karate and also think about and love the talibés so much that they want to be able to bring them the gift of karate.

The children seemed shocked to hear my words. A few already knew of Kaylie and Keagan but most did not. Such a huge and impossible thought that children in Canada would be thinking of them and willing to sacrifice for them. One boy asked to speak. He said "we are so happy. Karate is so important for us. Now, knowing this, we will persevere and work even harder. We will never give up." Others nodded in agreement, looking emotional, fierce and determined. one by one they all respectfully approached us and one at a time bowed. How can there be words after this!?!

Later, Robbie took a group of karatekas aside to help prepare them for the tournament to be held the next day. They would all be participating. For many it would be the first time and they were excited but anxious. Robbie worked with the older beginners, white belts, on their katas. I had the strong sense that the children felt honoured to be training with Robbie and I. But we both knew better- the honour was all ours to be training with them.

It was hard to say good bye when class ended. But, the streets called. Off came the white gis that marked them as special. In many cases they remained barefoot. But, without the gi this marked them as lesser instead of more. The children still had begging quotas to fill.

In the afternoon Robbie assisted Kalidou teaching his English class. Kalidou is a leader in the couture apprenticeship program, and he also teaches English every evening. I met Kalidou on my very first visit to Saint Louis over ten years ago when he was a forced begging talibé. Now, having taught himself English and devoted himself to learning a trade, Kalidou is an example to so many young talibés.

Robbie and I made arrangements to meet Idy late that night for a Ronde de Nuit in search of talibés who had run from their daaras and were in far worse danger, alone on the streets at night.

After midnight, at the Gare Routiere, we soon found a little boy, asleep in a corner. Idy gently woke him and explained he was not safe, and he could sleep instead at Maison de la Gare in a bed and have some food. The little boy, Ibrahima, trustingly followed Robbie and Idy, proving just how vulnerable they are while on the run. It was not long before we discovered a second talibé, curled up against the chilly night air on a well lit counter. For these runaways, the relative safety offered by well lit locations must be balanced against the desire to remain hidden. This boy, Ibrahim, also followed us with little objection. We took them in a taxi to Maison de la Gare's emergency shelter. The night guard checked them in and we tucked them in. Then we went out once more. 

Along the main road, we found a tiny boy sound asleep under a bright light, knees tucked into his ragged t-shirt for warmth. It was very difficult for Idy to wake him, and the boy kept nodding off again, clearly beyond exhausted. Eventually he woke and realized it was late. He seemed upset that he had fallen asleep and wanted to get back to his daara quickly. He had walked for miles that day, and had not eaten at all. He had been simply too tired to take another step. I bought him a fataya to eat at the all night restaurant nearby, as well as two more for the boys now safely back at the dortoir. Idy suggested it would be safe for the boy to take him back to his daara or he would not have asked to go. So, we accompanied this little one (He seemed about age six to me but Idy said he was likely eight). The talibé was so tired that he was stumbling and seemed in danger of falling asleep on his feet. but, with every bite of his food he gained strength. When we finally arrived at his daara after about a 20 minute walk he had perked right up. instead of going in the front door, the talibé wanted to hop in a back window quietly, hoping to rejoin the other boys undetected. Idy gave him a boost, and the last we saw of his face was a smile of thanks, accompanied by a quick wave. 

It was 2 am when Robbie and I returned to our hotel, emotionally and physically exhausted. But sleep would allude us this night.

Tomorrow, Saint Louis!

We are on our way, again. Robbie, Dad and I. I am writing from the JFK airport. In a way it feels like going home. But, as we are leaving Rowan and Robin in Ottawa this time, half my heart will remain in Canada. And, just as more of my extended family is also back in Canada, many more await me in Senegal as well.

Two of my Godchildren, Djiby and Mohammed are in Saint Louis. Tijan, has travelled from The Gambia to meet us and waits at Maison de la Gare. Oumou and her lovely six children are anticipating our reunion. And, Arouna, of course. Robbie and I are excited to see and train with Bouaro and our MDG-Sor karate boys once more. and all of the dedicated MDG staff, who are almost family. 

I first met Tijan many years ago when he was a talibé in Saint Louis. He and Robbie have been connected on-line since  that time, friends across the ocean, from two different worlds. I have been supporting and encouraging Tijan to pursue his high school studies back in The Gambia for several years, rather than to attempt a dangerous migration in search of hope and a new life. This summer Tijan graduated from high school, despite the nearly unbelievable challenges he faced in pursuing his education. Robbie graduated at the same time. Such different paths and obstacles these two boys of mine faced in pursuing their dreams. Both of them are taking the next step toward their dreams, beginning university next year. 

Oumou's family exists on a precarious knife edge, yet sheltered from their regular brushes with disaster, dispersion, the end of their educations by Oumou's indomitable protective spirit and diligence. The kids are happy, polite, charming, love school, and each other. In Oumou's own words, her family will be separated only "over my dead body". Oumou is uneducated. But, she has a burning belief that education will free her children from their difficult life. A friend in Ottawa and I are determined to find a way to support this family more comprehensively, help them to better help themselves. Maybe on this visit I will figure out what, beyond school fees might be most effective.

Robbie and I are sponsoring a karate tournament at the MDG centre at the end of the week. We both volunteered in support of a local Ottawa Douvris tournament this past weekend. Watching and ecouraging the children conquering their fears to lay everything on the mat is always inspiring. There will be no shortage of  inspiration again this Friday as the MDG-Sor karate kids swallow their anxieties and step onto the mat for their own triumphant moments.

We have many plans and will see many friends on this journey. But first...one more flight.