Beyond the End of the World

For two days we pushed overland, eastward from Niamey, finally arriving in Maine-Soroa late in the afternoon of May 11th. Our route followed the main east-west road which parallels Niger’s southern frontier with Burkina Faso, Bénin and Nigeria.

About 60 miles out of Niamey the way passes through the village of Kouré where West Africa’s last wild giraffe herd, numbering about 150 animals, can be found. Often they are close to the road. We were lucky enough to catch sight of several and a few minutes of off-road driving and walking brought us very close to these elegant creatures. They have been protected for several decades. Although cautious, they will let you draw within 30 to 40 yards before they amble off.
From Kouré the route passes southeast towards Maradi. As we approach Maradi the terrain changes. The rocky orange hardpan of the Sahel gives way to sandy soil which supports larger stands of trees and sparse pasture resembling the savannahs usually found further south.

Leaving Maradi we reenter the Sahel and by the time we reach the city of Zinder we are really in the desert, seeing the first of large sand dunes. Zinder brings to mind all the history, romance, adventure, and cruelty of the Sahara. Originally a resting place for camels on the trans-Sahara route it later became the capital of the Damagaram state which profited from agriculture and the slave trade. Near the end of the 19th century the French arrived with their Foreign Legion. Zinder was at the center of bloody fighting for many years but eventually fell to the French. For the early part of the 20th century it served as the capital of Niger. If you remember the novel Beau Geste reread it for the flavor of Zinder in those days.

We stayed the night in Zinder at a government guest house. Our rooms were air conditioned but the rest of the house was not. The heat was stifling. Ceiling fans stirred hot air and fine dust over the dining table where couscous and mutton were served along with fresh mangoes. The bathroom was nicely tiled and fully equipped but there was no water because of low pressure in city mains – a common problem in the dry season. A five gallon bucket of water was provided for washing and flushing and there was bottled water for drinking and tooth brushing. Breakfast was yogurt, tea, and excellent local bread.

We continued on good quality paved road east to the village of Gouré. Here the Sahel loses its battle with the Sahara and is no longer able to hold it at bay. Despite attempts to stabilize the dunes with plantings of hardy grasses, the sand has marched steadily southward. The desertification of this area has ruined the road which in many areas is non-existent. Our trucks grind slowly in 4 wheel low through sometimes deep sand. We pass two or three of the big ten-wheel Algerian desert haulers being dug out of the sand. Vegetation is sparse to non-existent and the temperature reaches 120 degrees. We drive around the base of a large dune and downward into a depression in the desert. Suddenly the road reappears and everything is a deep cool green. It seems like a hallucination. Date palms are everywhere. Through the trees we can see blue water – a lake maybe 3-4 acres in size surrounded by fields planted with vegetables and fruit trees. It is an oasis produced by a spring fed lake which has created a small island of life in the midst of apparent desolation.

We endure about 60 miles of poor to non-existent road and at last good hard surfaced highway reappears. By late afternoon we are approaching our destination, the village of Maine-Soroa. In the distance we catch sight of something obstructing the road and cars and trucks are on the side of the road. As we draw closer we see that a group of twenty or thirty people is in the middle of the road. We are waved to a stop and as we get out we hear applause and cheering. In the distance drumming can be heard. The chief of the village and a large delegation have driven about a mile out of town to greet us and escort us to the village center. The men approach first with smiles, handshakes and fists held in the air. The fist in the air is not an invitation to leave town but rather the equivalent of a salute – it takes a little getting used to. The women stood to one side while we were greeted by the men, then we were introduced to the women.

As our entourage entered the village everyone stopped and waved or shook a friendly fist. The town center near the mosque and prefecture was completely filled. Our trucks stop and everyone crowds around. As we open the doors we are literally pulled out by friendly hands. Everyone thrusts a hand to be shaken. The sound and movement are almost disorienting…drums, the griot’s horn, clapping, cheering and dancing. We are pressed toward the center of the square by the crowd. The senator from the region along with the village chief offer us a traditional welcoming drink of cool goat’s milk laced with ginger. Introductions to the traditional and now largely ceremonial king and princes of the region and other local dignitaries are made and we are offered seats alongside the king. There are a few speeches of welcome and then a traditional dance. Bill and Barbara Kirker join in to great cheering from the crowd.

The reception we receive is very gratifying. It is a welcome to all of us, but more than that it is a great tribute to the work Bill and Barbara did here more than thirty years ago. From nothing, over a period of ten years, they built a hospital and dispensary system which eventually served thousands of patients in the region around Maine-Soroa. They trained nurses, midwives and technicians, organized vaccination and public health programs, and treated epidemic diseases such as cholera and meningitis. Bill performed hundreds of surgeries and handled complicated obstetrical cases. Almost everyone we talked to was either cared for by Bill and Barbara or had a close family member whom they had treated. In 1974 a coup d’etat in Niger forced the Kirker’s to leave the country. The military government decided to move hospital operations to nearby Diffa and a decade of work was rapidly dismantled. Bill and Barbara returned to the U.S. and Bill entered private practice. In addition he founded and still serves on the board of Africare, a Washington, D.C. based NGO providing assistance to Niger and other African nations. Bill retired from his medical practice in the late 90’s. While inspecting Africare projects in Niger last year he was invited by the Nigerien Ministry of Health to return with a team of physicians to reopen the hospital in Maine-Soroa. Now after months of planning we are here.

The reception ends and we are driven to our quarters at the government guest house. This will be home for the next two months while our housing in completed. All of us on the team are volunteering our time and paying our own living and travel expenses. In return the Ministry of Health is providing us with housing and two vehicles with a monthly fuel allowance. Tomorrow will be a day of rest. Then we will pay our first visit to the hospital.



Photos:
#1 The village of Gouré
#2 The Griot and his horn


Steve Humphrey
Maine-Soroa, Niger 13 may 2007