Visit to the Daaras

I wanted to describe a bit more about my visit to the Daaras because I feel it is a really important topic to cover. Since I have not actually worked with the Talibe boys it is hard for me to describe a complete picture, but I have heard many stories from other volunteers, and read a few articles before I even came to Senegal. The fact that it was on the radar when I was googling anything and everything I could find, told me then it would be something worth looking into when I finally arrived here.

In brief, the UNICEF website describes the Daaras history as such: Daaras or Koranic schools began as a rural and city based Koranic school which intended to teach boys the Koran in preperation for adult life. In return, the boys would work for the Maribouts in their fields. Due to drought and economic downturn in the late 70's and early 80s, the Daaras were struggling and so moved to the cities in order to be able to beg for money to keep the Daaras running.

I think the culture then shifted in the Daaras from a more pure intention with community involvement, to one where the Maribouts are making money by exploiting the children who are essentially forced to attend. The boys I have seen all live in harsh conditions, and are malnourished. The UNICEF website says there are around 100,000 children who attend these schools, but statistics regarding such issues from developing countries are notoriously undervalued. The boys hang about in the streets at all hours hoping they can collect meagre handouts from passers by.

The people with PA who work with the talibe mostly work to clean and bandage wounds and offer other topical medical attention. They also help with the friday meal, where an upwards of 200 children show up for a piece of bread with chocolate spread and oil on it.

Last week, Briony a doctor from the UK, told me about how she attended the friday meal. She said that after 150 kids they ran out of food. The volunteers were left scrambling trying to figure out how to not disappoint the remaining 50 kids. Briony offered to pay for whatever supplies they needed to make sure everyone got something. It cost her 4000 CFA ( the equivalent of $8) to purchase one more tub of chocolate spread and enough bread for everyone. Her comment to me was "Jeez, I would think nothing of spending 4000 on a glass of wine at dinner".

I often see the boys out in the streets at the appropriate times during the day praying with their wooden tablet, repeating and repeating the lines that are written out in coal. I highly doubt they can read what is actually written, so interpretation and explanation would be left up to the Maribout. I also wonder what life skills the Maribouts really think these boys are getting other than surviving life on the streets.

When we delivered donuts on Sunday I got to visit 5 different Daaras all in the same general area. Our escorts were the men who work in the talibe centres or go to the Daaras to help out with the boys. The centres have a place to hang out during the day, and a doctors office that has services, albeit limited services sporadically througout the week. The men are primarily responsible for anything from haircuts to first aid to sourcing food every friday for the 1 supper.

The men who work with the Talibes really are amazing people. Everywhere we walked they took the time to exchange greetings and shake hands with the boys we met in the streets. When it came time to change bandages, or in the case of one boy who had an abcess on his backside looked at, they were kind and gentle and sincere.

The first Daara was situated in a soccer stadium. The deal is, the boys can sleep and stay there, but if a game is on then they all have to leave. The stadium is old and dilapidated as are many buildings here, and their wash spot was an old puddle. When we handed out donuts, the boys were polite, lined up and made sure their pals got one too.

The next Daara wasn't so large, maybe 15 boys or so. It was situated in a smallish abandoned type house. There was a mat to sit on, an old mosquito net and not much else. These boys actually showed a little excitement at our arrival, but otherwise I scarcely saw a smile on any boy's face all day.

The two next ones were about the same, though the Maribouts refused to shake the girls' hands, as this is sometimes the case with Muslim men.

The last one was referred to as the "Daara des Mouches" which means Daara with lots of flies. It lived up to its name. We wandered along the long abandoned train tracks where garbage was piled high and goats were busy sorting through to see if there was anything good to eat in the piles. Then we veered off through narrower allyways where there were less people and more abandoned buildings. There was shallow ditches outside the houses that smelled of sewage.

We turned again down a narrow alleyway and came to the Darra, marked only by some scraggly writing in chalk on the wall. We waited while one of the escorts went in to make sure things were still ok with the Maribout.

There were about 100 boys or so at this place. They were all sitting cross legged with their tablets, knee to knee, crammed into these tiny rooms where they were apparently recieving instruction. Once they figured out we had treats for them they all immediately began scrambling to get one. Luckily we had enough for everyone...

Honestly, it was really depressing walking around the shit neighbourhoods of this area, walking over open sewage and arriving at a dilapidated building with 50 kids shoved in a tiny room, filthy, repeating and repeating the Koran which they don't understand but are merely repeating over and over because it's what they're supposed to do.

When I walked down my street to go home, the street looked totally different. Suddenly the garbage wasn't as bad as it could be, the people were better off, the kids in my house appeared to be thriving compared to these skinny Talibe boys despite their lack of toys and occasional threat of being whipped by the tv cable. It was really really crazy to see such a contrast after just 1 morning wandering around in the poorer areas.

I also have a hard time seeing where we can really get in there and help. Giving money to get supplies such as food and bandages and blankets is certainly needed but only offers a topical solution. There really is a greater need for a major cultural shift to happen.

On a lighter note, I have seen several incidents where random neighbours in my neighbourhood have stopped fights, or chastised talibes for bad behaviour. Many people offer them leftovers, but I rather think that having a consistent set of people raising me, and feeding me would be far more beneficial than simply knowing where the good handouts are.