The massive intrastructure and public improvements underway in Touba continue, according to the Khalife of the Mourides, by way of a news report. He assures that the water system infrastructure and other projects were never stalled.
The Khalife, Serigne Mouhamadou Lamine Bara Mbacké, took efforts to emphasize the cooperation of the Holy City with the President of Senegal, Abdoulaye Wade:
"The water project has started. Again, we are in step with the president because he had given the sum of seven billion CFA francs. Then he comes back three and a half billion for drilling, pipes, fountains throughout the city."
Addressing reports that the work had been stopped for lack of funding, the Khalife was reported to state: "The work has never been suspended. Those who say they do not know anything."
Since President Wade showed up with the payments in his recent visit to Touba, relations with the Holy City appear to have warmed up considerably. This at a time when the president is facing political opposition.
Showing posts with label Mourides. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mourides. Show all posts
Monday, December 8, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Report: Chinese will stay to work in Touba
"L'observateur" is reporting today that the Mourides leadership in Touba has smoothed over relations with the Chinese firm Henan, after the Chinese were reported to have stopped work for nonpayment. The multi-million dollar road and infrastructure work to be done by the Chinese in and around Touba will continue... El Hadji Ndiaye, the "right arm" of the Khalif General of the Mourides, is quoted as saying that the Chinese will continue the work although behind in payments to the tune of 9 billion CFA franc ($20.3 million)... The "L'observateur" report also indicates that 60 of the 80 Chinese who were working on the Touba projects are no longer there... About half the 115 kilometers of roadwork committed to the Chinese has been done, according to the report. Meanwhile, the balance of the five-year project, at about 20 billion CFA franc per year, will continue, insists the Khalif. The work includes sanitation and other infrastructure, besides the road work.
Friday, April 18, 2008
I meet the Khalif
Thursday, April 17, 2008
We saw the Khalif today—what an intense experience! …For the second day, there has been no ADSL to connect to the internet throughout the area. Apparently the problem is with the phone system Sonatel—not a good reflection on the infrastructure. While going into town to check the connection at the cybercafé I had the good luck to find one of the commune’s garbage trucks and to speak with its crew. I found out that the commune operates four trucks, one of them apparently a packer. The small donkey carts bring much of the waste to the trucks. They then go to a dump. Mustafa found out from them where the dump is and we will go there another time… But first we had to get to Touba because, as I found, seeing the Khalif is not just making an appointment… I had thought to wear the grand bou-bou that I had purchased from Soda’s nephew yesterday. But Mamemor said that I might look too much like one of the hippies that hang out around the Grand Mosque smoking pot, and often wearing Baye Fall bou-bous. His general thought was that if I was there as an American businessman, I should look like one. Thus attired, we headed for Touba…
Touba is much as I expected—sprawling with many newer improvements, as much of the growth of the city has occurred in recent years. The City Hall looked new and modern. There is plenty of capital sent here from abroad, both from ex-patriot Mourides and foreign governments, especially the Chinese. There are a noticeably higher proportion of Mercedes cars in Touba… We only had time to drive around the Grand Mosque before heading to the Khalif’s compound.
Once at the Khalif’s compound it was apparent that I wasn’t the only one wanting to see the Khalif… The Khalif is like the Pope to the Mourides, and so, like Saint Peter’s Square in Rome, you will find crowds of the faithful there to see the Khalif, staged in various rooms, with the place permeated by the constant sing-shouting of Islamic praying. One of the main rooms was full of women and children. There was a courtyard with classes of schoolchildren. At one point we were staged in a room full of men of some apparent significance sitting around on the floor. As we wound our way here and there, various people would come to bring us another step closer. Mamemor’s friend the albino seemed to have quite a bit of pull, and he had others working the system to advance me. The maneuvering became much more intense once we got in the room where the Khalif was sitting. I moved seat-by-seat closer to the end of the room where he sat. The closer I got, the more intense was the jostling. The room was not large, maybe 20 feet by 40 feet, if that. The seats were along one side. As a Westerner I think it was expected that I sat in the seats. I was waved to one of the seats closest to those pushing and shoving to see the Khalif. I had to be careful; one man stumbling back clipped me in the throat with his hand. I started to worry about banging my still-vulnerable jaw. A noisy anxious babble was constant. I couldn’t see the Khalif from where I was sitting… This was actually a quiet day; the weekends are much worse… Soon we got the wave from somebody up by the Khalif. As I now know there are plenty of plain-clothes soldiers, government informants and watchful, if not envious, eyes around always. A little more jostling and I was put in the one chair next to the Khalif. He gave some recognition that I was there but still had to heed those others in front of him clawing for blessing and recognition. Every so often he would give a blessing, writing something with his finger in the palms placed up before him, and (as I found out later) spraying a little spittle which the believers immediately wiped on their forehead. This went on for awhile and then Mamemor got his attention. The Khalif is elderly, wearing a blue knit hat. We had a pleasant exchange with the Khalif about what I could do for Senegal and what he could do to help. I remember at one point it got very quiet—the whole place. I’m not sure why; the discussion wasn’t especially significant at that point. It was sort of eerie. The commotion renewed shortly… The Khalif will review my information and indicated that we would talk again soon, with less distraction…
At the conclusion of our talk, I asked for the Khalif’s blessing. He gave the very slightest smile of surprise, but readily wrote on my palm with his finger; Mamemor quickly translated: “May you find God in Touba. There is only one God, not two.” I felt the faint spray of the spittle and wiped it on my forehead…
It looks like I am at the hotel here in Mbacke again tonight. The toilet in the other room didn’t work, so I have another room. The toilet works fine. We had lunch at Mamemor’s mom’s. Café Touba at Soda’s and I will go back to mom’s for dinner soon… I am somewhat homesick; halfway through my trip. I think it best to hang out here for tomorrow. Maybe head back to Dakar via Petit Cote Saturday to get ready for the business week next…
We saw the Khalif today—what an intense experience! …For the second day, there has been no ADSL to connect to the internet throughout the area. Apparently the problem is with the phone system Sonatel—not a good reflection on the infrastructure. While going into town to check the connection at the cybercafé I had the good luck to find one of the commune’s garbage trucks and to speak with its crew. I found out that the commune operates four trucks, one of them apparently a packer. The small donkey carts bring much of the waste to the trucks. They then go to a dump. Mustafa found out from them where the dump is and we will go there another time… But first we had to get to Touba because, as I found, seeing the Khalif is not just making an appointment… I had thought to wear the grand bou-bou that I had purchased from Soda’s nephew yesterday. But Mamemor said that I might look too much like one of the hippies that hang out around the Grand Mosque smoking pot, and often wearing Baye Fall bou-bous. His general thought was that if I was there as an American businessman, I should look like one. Thus attired, we headed for Touba…
Touba is much as I expected—sprawling with many newer improvements, as much of the growth of the city has occurred in recent years. The City Hall looked new and modern. There is plenty of capital sent here from abroad, both from ex-patriot Mourides and foreign governments, especially the Chinese. There are a noticeably higher proportion of Mercedes cars in Touba… We only had time to drive around the Grand Mosque before heading to the Khalif’s compound.
Once at the Khalif’s compound it was apparent that I wasn’t the only one wanting to see the Khalif… The Khalif is like the Pope to the Mourides, and so, like Saint Peter’s Square in Rome, you will find crowds of the faithful there to see the Khalif, staged in various rooms, with the place permeated by the constant sing-shouting of Islamic praying. One of the main rooms was full of women and children. There was a courtyard with classes of schoolchildren. At one point we were staged in a room full of men of some apparent significance sitting around on the floor. As we wound our way here and there, various people would come to bring us another step closer. Mamemor’s friend the albino seemed to have quite a bit of pull, and he had others working the system to advance me. The maneuvering became much more intense once we got in the room where the Khalif was sitting. I moved seat-by-seat closer to the end of the room where he sat. The closer I got, the more intense was the jostling. The room was not large, maybe 20 feet by 40 feet, if that. The seats were along one side. As a Westerner I think it was expected that I sat in the seats. I was waved to one of the seats closest to those pushing and shoving to see the Khalif. I had to be careful; one man stumbling back clipped me in the throat with his hand. I started to worry about banging my still-vulnerable jaw. A noisy anxious babble was constant. I couldn’t see the Khalif from where I was sitting… This was actually a quiet day; the weekends are much worse… Soon we got the wave from somebody up by the Khalif. As I now know there are plenty of plain-clothes soldiers, government informants and watchful, if not envious, eyes around always. A little more jostling and I was put in the one chair next to the Khalif. He gave some recognition that I was there but still had to heed those others in front of him clawing for blessing and recognition. Every so often he would give a blessing, writing something with his finger in the palms placed up before him, and (as I found out later) spraying a little spittle which the believers immediately wiped on their forehead. This went on for awhile and then Mamemor got his attention. The Khalif is elderly, wearing a blue knit hat. We had a pleasant exchange with the Khalif about what I could do for Senegal and what he could do to help. I remember at one point it got very quiet—the whole place. I’m not sure why; the discussion wasn’t especially significant at that point. It was sort of eerie. The commotion renewed shortly… The Khalif will review my information and indicated that we would talk again soon, with less distraction…
At the conclusion of our talk, I asked for the Khalif’s blessing. He gave the very slightest smile of surprise, but readily wrote on my palm with his finger; Mamemor quickly translated: “May you find God in Touba. There is only one God, not two.” I felt the faint spray of the spittle and wiped it on my forehead…
It looks like I am at the hotel here in Mbacke again tonight. The toilet in the other room didn’t work, so I have another room. The toilet works fine. We had lunch at Mamemor’s mom’s. Café Touba at Soda’s and I will go back to mom’s for dinner soon… I am somewhat homesick; halfway through my trip. I think it best to hang out here for tomorrow. Maybe head back to Dakar via Petit Cote Saturday to get ready for the business week next…
Saturday, March 22, 2008
We recently came across an interesting summary of the development of Touba and its fascinating connection with global commerce while maintaining its unique character. The link is:
http://llnw.creamermedia.co.za/articles/attachments/01378_africancity.pdf
The article compares three West African cities which exploded over recent decades. Here's one of the insightful excerpts about Touba:
"More than half of all Touba households are described as primarily active in commerce and here imports and a consumer economy tied to the outer world, is especially significant. International remittances account for a huge share of income while the importation and dispersal of industrially produced goods from the whole world have taken over the Senegalese economy, so weak in “internationally competitive” productive activity. Touba makes sense as a town only if one starts to take stock of one major aspect of globalisation—the large-scale temporary or permanent movement of Africans, notably West Africans, to all corners of the globe, together with the decline in productive local activity."
http://llnw.creamermedia.co.za/articles/attachments/01378_africancity.pdf
The article compares three West African cities which exploded over recent decades. Here's one of the insightful excerpts about Touba:
"More than half of all Touba households are described as primarily active in commerce and here imports and a consumer economy tied to the outer world, is especially significant. International remittances account for a huge share of income while the importation and dispersal of industrially produced goods from the whole world have taken over the Senegalese economy, so weak in “internationally competitive” productive activity. Touba makes sense as a town only if one starts to take stock of one major aspect of globalisation—the large-scale temporary or permanent movement of Africans, notably West Africans, to all corners of the globe, together with the decline in productive local activity."
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