Ronde de Nuit

Since several years ago we discovered Issa Kouyate's nightime personal habit of searching the dark alleys, transportation yards, and dangerous, dark corners of Saint Louis for runaway talibes after midnight, "Night Rounds" have become part of Maison de la Gare's regular activities. Teams now head out from the centre at least twice a week in search of young boys who have run away from their daaras, typically due to abuse, sexual assault, ot fear of reprisal for failing to meet a begging quota.

Ran Ran Video

The boys are at terrible risk when on the run. They try to strike a delicate balance between not being found and not being too alone and thus subject to the whims of sexual predators, or slavers. Their vulnerable lives become even more outrageously exposed to the chance of meeting evil or the goodness of strangers when they are living on the streets at night. During the days the worst the talibes need to deal with on the streets is usually injury, hunger, exhaustion, bullying. Predators do not need to hunt during the day, as there is always ample supply at night. Imagine how bad it must be to know what awaits, and to run anyway.

Each time we have joined Issa or another team for a Ronde de Nuit, we begin with a barely surpressed excitement co-mingled with anxiety. And, fear. Not our own, but the shadow of a sense of what the boys we are searching for must be feeling. Excitement that we will find them and help them. Anxiety that we might find them - we always hope there will be none on the streets tonight. But, sadly, there are always many.

The very first time my Dad, Rowan and I went out on a Ronde de Nuit what we saw branded us forever. We had been intending to go out the night before, but we were waiting on a news crew that wanted to follow Issa with cameras. So we put it off. The second night the news crew wanted us to postpone again but we decided to go. We found four boys, huddled together in the cold. Tucked into their t-shirts. Under a light, just-in-case. One little one was more difficult to approach, nore reluctant to trust us. Rowan eventually won a tiny smile as she gently zipped her Lu-Lu Lemon jacket around him. He had apparently been sexually assaulted the night before while on the street. THE NIGHT BEFORE! This knowledge is now part of me, will always be.

Last Tuesday night Dad was sick during the night and could not join us. Idy and Badji, leaders of the Maison de la Gare Ronde de Nuit team, met Rowan and I at midnight at the Centre. We took taxis out to the Gare Routiere at the edge of town. This is a large area full of hundreds of busses, trucks, cars, all ready to take off to different parts of Senegal, The Gambia, and beyond first thing in the morning. The runaways often hide out here with the idea that they could steal away on a ride home. How often do kids inadvertantly end up in another, unknown country? I cannot bear to imagine. And, sometimes, as the kids sleep under vehicles to stay out of reach of potential predators, they are run over as the wheels start to move earlier than expected, before the sun rises.  

We found five boys. After meeting three more members of the team, splitting into two groups, Rowan in one with Idy, and I in the other with Badji, we prowled through the narrow alleys, shone our flashlights under cars, into parked busses, behind crevices. My light soon shone upon a grown man, huddled under a blanket, hidden behind a half-wall. As my light moved along, it soon shone upon a tiny bundle, opposite to the grown man. Ibrahima. Badji estimated his age at ten. How could this little waife have been older than six? Badji gently woke him and spoke with him in Wolof. The boy was convinced to follow. But I stayed a step behind, with a hand hovering and ready to leap just in case he chose to run. We soon found three more boys, 

piled together under canvas rags. They were also sleeping opposite a grown homeless man. But, there can be safety in numbers. As they were gently woken from sleep, reality began to hit me hard, as it does every time I do this. Nothing to do but just DO. After all, what is what I feel compared to what they lived? We soon met up with Rowan's group and paused to note the names and daaras of the boys, and to learn something of their stories. The night 

here is cold at this time of year. Little Ibrahima was shivering, perhaps from the cold, perhaps from fear. Rowan removed her Favourite Ten Tree sweater (deja-vu) and put it on Ibrahima. As he huddled into the new-found warmth, Rowan peeled a few oranges and handed them out. Then, we hopped into taxis to  return to the dortoir d'urgence at Maison de la Gare. As we were leaving the Gare Routiere another little talibe came up to the car. He had been watching. We must have looked like help and not hurt. He hopped in. Then he fell right asleep.

When we arrived back at the centre the boys were registered with the social worker who is always on duty. Rowan and I helped find the bedding and set them up in the first beds they had likely ever known, the bunkbeds we first sketched out on paper for the carpenter three years ago when the dortoir was  built.

Rowan and I returned in the morning and settled in with the little runaways. They seemed to trust us, and were soon out of their shells, playing chase and tickle games, reading and dancing to music. One by one, the social worker sat with them to try to figure out where they were from, which daara, which village, country? Had they been abused? Did they want to go home? Did they have a home to return to?

Only one boy, Amadou, would be returned to his distant home. This is planned for later next week, after his Marabout can be located and has been called to account. The others will be returned to their daaras later today. A difficult thing. But, the Palais de Justice has spoken, and the boys did not choose home - maybe none exists any longer for them? But, Maison de la Gare now knows them, and they now know Maison de la Gare. Maison de la Gare will watch their daaras.  Their marabouts know they will be watching. This helps.

I saved writing about our Ronde de Nuit until we were safely on our way home, flying back toward my usual reality. Each one of us seems to know just what we can take. These talibe boys seem to be able to take more than most of us. But, for the love of God, why must they? 

Karate Can Kick Hopelessness, You Have No Idea!

After our first full day at Maison de la Gare I was looking forward to training at Sor-Karate and working out the travel kinks. Sensei Ignety Ba would be there to lead the class. When I arrived at the dojo with Rowan,  Mamadou and some other talibe friends, I was greeted warmly. Everyone asked after Robbie, dissapointed that he had not come this time. Many asked me to pass on congratulations to Robbie for his fourth place finish at the WKC World Karate Championships. They had seen the YouTube videos of his performances and exclaimed at the speed and beauty of his weapons katas. They assured each other that with such skill and with Allah's help Robbie would surely earn the gold medal next year. Actually, many people have asked about Robbie this week, wishing he was here too, offering congratulations for his showing at Worlds. 

The training was challenging, as it always is at Sor-karate, but very satisfying. Thanks to my regular traditional-style karate classes with Sensei Subhadra at Douvris Martial Arts, I was becoming somewhat familiar with the Shotokan style practiced here.  And, my recognition of the Japanese terms for strikes, blocks, and other terms is thankfully improving. As I practiced self defence drills with Mamadou I got the impression that he just could not get comfortable throwing me. But it was fun returning the favour. 

Wednesday night I returned to the dojo to discuss the progress of the karate program, and to deliver the Douvris gym bags which were a gift from Cathy Douvris to the tournament team. Ignety had been considering since Monday who would round out the final list of five Maison de la Gare boys  who would compete this year, along with the amazing synchro kata team who are National contenders. Earlier this year Omar Balde won a bronze medal in fighting in a WKC qualifying competition, making him eligible for Nationals. The team was very pleased and proud to receive their bags, as well as the water bottles and protein powder I brought.

The team's first tournament of the year will be in Kaolack January 13, 14. They will meet at about midnight, spend all night on the bus to get there, two days competing (their hotel in Kaolack will not resemble those we usually stay at when Team Douvris travels), then all night on a bus to return. #anything for karate. This particular tournament will cost a total of about $540 to pull off (for the journey, registration fees, hotel, food, etc, for all 5 plus the coach). I will find the money for this one, and hopefully for more. Most of the regular Sor-Karate competitors are not able to afford to travel often to tournaments. Competition would be an impossible dream for the Maison de la Gare Team without our help. 

Wednesday I did not practice at the dojo, so I could speak with Sensei to review the list of talibes continuing to attend at the dojo, those who returned to their villages. and new ones who are wanting to begin. We also discussed the new idea for the supplementary meals program that Noel Coly came up with. When I saw the kicking drills the kids were asked to do, I was relieved I was watching and not practicing. I am not sure I could have kept up. Mamadou has gotten so fast and is kicking so high, he is definately a good match for Omar now. #teammates.

Some of the older boys have "aged out" of their daaras and have left to return home, and so the number of older boys registered at the dojo has shrunk. But, to my delight, a number of younger boys are ready to start, and it seems their marabouts will allow it. Ignety Ba is allowing an earlier class on Thursday nights so the younger kids will be able to practice at the dojo in order to meet their daara curfews. As happy as I am that some younger kids are starting at the dojo, I think it is still just as important for the older kids too. As the kids age, and are eventually freed from their marabout's requirement to deliver a daily begging quota, they are often left with nothing to do and nowhere to go. They have no education and have not learned a trade, especially if they were new to Maison de la Gare. When Rowan and I went out on a ronde de nuit Tuesday after midnight in search of runaway talibes boys sleeping on the street, we saw many young men who had been talibes sleeping or hanging out at the Gare Routiere, clearly at loose ends and homeless. Having karate as an important part of their lives will offer something worthwhile to boys in this situation.

Friday morning Bouaro led a karate class at Maison de la Gare, with about 20 kids.  I delivered all the donated Canadian Gi's, so some kids who had been waiting for uniforms were able to start karate classes today. I had been looking forward to training with them but I had been sick all night, and was still barely holdng it together. Instead, I discussed the new meal plan with Noel and took pictures of the karate kids. I think I felt how Robbie must have felt nearly three years ago when he was determined to teach but could not stand without being sick. A class of about 70 kids was assembled waiting for him to begin. So, he sat hunched beside me on the sand, giving instrutions for me (a yellow belt at the time) to lead the class, call by call. #anythingforkarate. 

When Robbie and I were here last time and we trained together with the Sor-Karate Club we noticed the Maison de la Gare kids needed frequent breaks to recover from faintness. We later figured out their weakness was due to not having eaten. When they train at the dojo (nearly every night) they miss 

their only certain meal of the day for which they don't have to beg, at Maison de la Gare. But, they choose karate anyway. So Robbie and I organized a meal to be available a few hours before training, twice a week. This had been working well, but as some boys left and others joined, the new kids did not  necessarily learn  about the meal plan, and some of the old ones began taking the extra meals for their friends. Who could blame them? So, based on Noel's advice I visited a new restaurant, making a deal with the owner for tickets to be presetned in exchange for a meal, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday after karate training. These are the days Sensei Ignety Ba teaches at the dojo. After training, he will hand out tickets to the Maison de la Gare boys who trained that day. As not every kid trains at the dojo every night, this new system allows us to add the third meal per week. And, by having 3 certain, good meals a week, eating after instead of before training should still be effective, as the kids will eat more often.

One of the kids told me on this trip that he thinks I must love karate too much. He followed this up by saying they were very grateful to Allah for that, because they do too.

Redefining the Persevering Spirit

Arouna's nephew, Mohamed is adorable. He has two new loves, karate and Kalidou. Although he recently lost his mother, Arouna's sister, Mohamed is adjusting to a new life. Children here have no choice but to be adaptable. He is already one of the keenest young karate students. And, he has latched onto our friend Kalidou, and follows him everywhere.  Maison de la Gare is Mohamed's new home. The staff here are his new parents, and his hope for a decent future is renewed. And, despite the unexpected responsibility for his sister's child, Arouna will carry on with his schooling. He may become prime minister yet. Mohamed will also be registered in the public school system as part of Maison de la Gare's program to keep boys from living the talibe life. 

Arouna made his way through the public school system while he was a begging talibe. He slept in his daara each night and submitted his begging quota each day to his marabout. He lived this way from the age of six. But he also visited Maison de la Gare each day and the opportunity to learn caught his attention. Issa Kouyate was impressed by Arouna's intelligence and interest in self improvement and after Arouna  learned enough French and math in Maison de la Gare's classes Issa  registered him in school.   During his primary school years Arouna did his homework by the light of the moon after midnight, when all the other begging street boys slept. There is no electricity in the daara, of course. He begged or found discarded fish to sell in the market to make up his begging quotas each day during the lunch break and after school. And, he visited Maison de la Gare for moral support, a meal, a shower, decent clothes, and tutoring help.  He was also discriminated against at school, taunted for being a talibe. He repeated many grades, as other, non-talibe students were promoted in his place, and often studied with students much younger than himself. 

When Arouna was a young begging talibe his parents died, and Arouna only learned of it years later. His extended family stole his inheritance and effectively enslaved his sisters. None of this stopped him. It just steeled his resolve to better himself, and he persevered. But imagine the heavy burden in his heart. Five years ago Arouna showed me his mother's identity card, which he still carries with him, the only photo he has to remind him. A few years later Arouna started high school, but his lack of identity papers prevented his diploma from the lower level being recognized, and thus prevented him from being permitted to write high school exams. This summer Arouna's identity papers finally became a reality. He wrote and passed his first exams. 

 

Now Arouna is living at Maison de la Gare, in the dortoir d'urgence. He is free from his marabout. He discusses economics and philosophy like any engaged, intelligent young person interested in bettering himself and his country.  Arouna will likely finish high school, and then he will carry on to university, Insha'Allah. It is my greatest wish that I will need to find him a scholarship to attend university in the near future. Arouna's journey has been a struggle that students at my kids' schools cannot possibly imagine. 

Hopefully, education will not be such a struggle for Mohamed. He will not have the stigma of being a talibe, although he will live among them. He will not need to find a way to fill a daily begging quota. He will sleep in a real bed each night, and he will be surrounded by people who care for him. And, he has the inspiring example of Arouna before him, who understands the value of an education.

Travelling Day, we'll Meet at Saint Louis

As our plane flys over Saint Louis on the way to Dakar, it is beginning to feel close. Maybe five hours from now, Insha'Allah we will be arriving in Saint Louis. Two of our dear friends are also on their way to Saint Louis, we will see them, and all our Maison de la Gare friends again soon. I am also looking forward to meeting my new Godson, Djiby for the first time. And, it will be good to see my other Godson, Mohammed again.

A few weeks ago Babacar, a friend in Saint Louis, announced the birth of his son, Djiby. He also announced, via messenger that I was to be Djiby's Godmother. Babacar is a professional waiter at a restaurant we frequent when in Senegal. We have been friends since my first visit in 2010. 

Tijan is a longtime friend of mine, Rowan and Robbie. He is the boy I helped convince a year ago to choose to return to The Gambia to enrol in school instead attempting to migrate, via Libya and the Mediterranean to Europe. We keep in touch via messenger, communicating every few days or so. He has high school exams coming up, following a brief study break. He is on his way from The Gambia to visit us in Saint Louis. Tijan says not to worry, it is just a short trip of 10 or so hours. He and Rowan will study together, as they have in the past. (Rowan's exams begin the day after our return to Canada).

Arouna is also on his way back to Saint Louis from Kolda, where he has the the responsibility for his two younger sisters since his parents and older sister died. Arouna is Rowan's age, and in his second last year of high school. While a talibe he had astonishing determination, doing whatever it took to earn an education, all while continuing to provide a daily begging quota for his marabout. With education as his primary life goal, Arouna intends to attend university, support his sisters, and aspires to someday be president of Senegal. Or a teacher. Or a writer. He wants to change things, to help his people. But, Arouna has continuously been challenged with one hardship after another. When his parents died, far away in Kolda when Aouna was a young boy, his extended family swindled him out of his inheritance, and he remained a talibe for many more years, effectively a slave, under the thumb of his marabout. When, after years of study he went to write his final exams so he could enter high school, his marabout would not give him his identity papers in an effort to maintain control. This summer Arouna finally obtained new identity papers of his own (after years of trying) and was able to register for high school exams. He also has exams in a few weeks and plans to study with Rowan and Tijan. 

But, Arouna has a new challenge - his biggest one yet. He is not on his way back from Kolda alone. A six year old boy is with him, the son of his deceased older sister. The boy, Mohamed's father died when his was a baby, and since his mother passed he was being cared for by her best friend. But, she has just returned to France and it has fallen to Arouna to take responsibility for his nephew. There is no one else. What will become of Arouna's plans for a great education? What will become of the little boy who has only known loss and uncertainty? I pray he will not become a talibe. I know Arouna will do all he can to keep Mohamed from such a fate. For now, Arouna is putting one foot in front of the other, one day at a time. And, he has a philosophy class he cannot miss tomorrow.

As we continue our journey toward Saint Louis, driving through the palm groves and the baobab forest, soaking in the African essence, anticipation grows. Anticipation that we will soon see good friends again, and anticipation to meet new friends who will change all our lives.

Keep Karate Kicking at Maison de la Gare

 

As my daughter, Rowan, my Dad and I prepare to land in Brussels, en route to Dakar, I am thinking about the karate kids of Maison de la Gare. Will the word have gotten around that we are on our way? How many new karate students will be ready and hoping to be registered at Sor-Karate Dojo? How many will have left, to return to their villages and perhaps to their families (those that have families)? Is the system my son, Robbie and I set up on our previous visit of providing meals for the dojo karate kids twice a week running smoothly?

As a refresher on our recent progress with the karate program, here is the most recent article I wrote about it, published in Global Giving and on the Maison de la Gare website:

Souleymane led the warm up on the hot sand under the mid-day sub-Saharan African sun at Maison de la Gare. Several  dozen white-belted karateka followed his movements, copying him to the best of their ability, listening for the correct moments to kiay. When Souleymane felt the children were properly prepared, a Sensei from a local dojo, Sor-karate took over to teach the class. This could be a scene in any North American martial arts school. But these eager, attentive students are talibe, forced begging boys of Senegal.

Even more astonishing, Souleymane too is a talibe. Only two and a half years ago Souleymane was a new white belt himself, learning his first forms from the Canadian founder of this unique karate school, then thirteen year old Robbie Hughes. When Robbie and his family first arrived at Maison de la Gare with scores of karate gi's (traditional karate uniforms) and the objective of spreading Robbie's passion for Karate to the talibe, Souleymane was fascinated from the first moment. The young Canadian black belt and the teenage talibe white belt were soon inseparable. Souleymane soaked up Robbie's lessons, and it was soon apparent he had adopted Robbie's passion as his own. Souleymane was one of the first small group of talibes Robbie introduced to Sor-Karate and Sensei Ignety Ba. He registered these first karate hopefuls as members of the dojo and I guaranteed their fees, confident in Robbie's promise that he would find sponsors upon our return to Canada.

Today, Souleymane is not only a helper with the Maison de la Gare karate program, he has earned his orange belt, and he is regularly competing as part of the tournament team for the Sor-karate dojo where nearly 30 of the most dedicated Maison de la Gare ,  are now registered. He warms up the class at the centre with confidence and skill, an example to the other students. Karate has helped transform this once shy boy into a leader.  

During my most recent visit to Maison de la Gare with Robbie, Souleymane helped us make a list of the morning students attending lessons regularly at the centre that he felt were ready for the dojo, and who wanted to join. Many had been hopefully waiting since our previous visit for their chance to become a "dojo talibe.

As we gathered to walk to the dojo for the evening class, it became apparent the evening ate students meal at Maison de la Gare would not be ready in time for the kids who needed to arrive at the dojo early to be registered, which was a 20 minute walk away. I could see the concern build, stomachs growled, then the resolution settle in that this chance at becoming a member of Sor-Karate could not be missed. So, off we went with Souleymane, leading 5 hungry talibes. Souleymane and Robbie helped get the new kids oriented at the dojo, then the white belts nervously presented themselves for registration. I guaranteed payment of their fees, knowing generous karate families back home at our own dojo would be willing to help.

As Robbie and I joined this class, practicing karate alongside our friends, we were struck by the equality in the room. In the dojo all go barefoot and here there is no indication of who owns shoes and who does not. Talibes practice along side kids from regular families, families who could afford these fees. The only thing separating the karateka was their skill level. No wonder kids who beg to survive, set apart from society, are willing to forgo a certain meal for this. As the evening class progressed we were surprised by the number of times the Sensei halted the class for rests. When we questioned Sensei Ba about the frequent breaks, he explained that the talibes get dizzy because they have not eaten, and they need to rest and re-gather their strength. Robbie and I were horrified that we had not previously identified this problem. Of course, the kids, who beg daily for their food, were expending more calories during their karate practice than they consume in an entire day. The one reliable daily meal provided by Maison de la Gare had to be missed in order to attend the evening dojo practice. And, none of these children were willing to trade karate for food. To them, the lightheadedness, growling bellies, and other side effects of malnutrition feel normal, not worth remarking on. But to Robbie and I this was a solvable problem, and one we may never have realized had we not had the opportunity to train alongside our friends.

After spending several days searching for a suitable location with a sympathetic proprietor, Robbie and I made arrangements for the roughly 30 dojo talibes to have a nutritious meal at a local restaurant two afternoons a week, several hours before class on the days of heaviest karate training. In this way, the meal would not disrupt the routine at Maison de la Gare, where food is offered after the French and math classes in order to encourage education- too late for the karateka who take off for the dojo immediately after their tutoring for the day. At Maison de la Gare if a meal is given to any it must be available to all, so a meal earlier in the day at the centre just for karateka is not an option if a peaceful sense of fairness among hungry children is to prevail.

Once again, Robbie was certain we could later find enough generosity back home to pay for two weekly meals for the dojo karate talibes. We sadly remarked on the necessity to limit the meals for the 30 children to just two a week, when they practice at the dojo up to six nights a week. After all, food is a basic human right, but it is expensive. We hope that through generous donations the number of meals can be raised to at least three a week. I am excited for my next visit to Senegal, to train alongside my talibe friends once more. I, who used to take basic nutrition for granted until that fateful day training at Sor-Karate, now am very conscious that food is fuel. So too is passion. Imagine the unlimited potential of these determined, hard working, inspiring martial artists now that they are being fed by both.