The Lost Boys

Do you remember the Lost Boys in the story of Peter Pan?  
      ...the boys who fall out of their prams in Kensington Garden when their nanny isn't looking and if they go unclaimed for 7 days they are whisked away to Neverland to live with Peter Pan.  

There are groups of young boys that roam the streets of Niamey that remind me of the Lost Boys. 

There are no prams nor gardens nor nannies but they are young boys who, clothed in ragged clothing or over-sized shirts that fall to their knees, spend their days begging for food or money when they are not studying the Koran with a Muslim teacher.  

Like in Peter Pan, in this context, there are no "lost girls", only boys.  

Historically, parents, who wanted their sons to learn the ways of Islam and maybe, eventually to become a Marabou (spiritual leaders) in their community, would send their boys to a Teacher where they would learn from the Koran.  Ideally, within a few years they would be able to recite the whole of the Koran in Arabic, even if they didn't know/understand the language itself.   

In recent years, these boys are often orphans or from families who can't afford to feed them. They are given to the Teacher to train in the ways of Mohamed. 
  

Early in the morning,they are sent out to find breakfast.  They go door to door, sometimes chanting in sing-song voices, hoping that someone will have leftover food from the night before that they are willing to give them.  They are all equipped with a small bowl, often attached to a cord around their neck. That aluminum or plastic bowl identifies them as "the boys from the mosque."  

 Once they get their food, they may eat it, if it is a small quantity or bring it back to share with the Teacher and his family.  If it is coins, they must bring it back to the Teacher.  They then spend their some hours memorizing the Koran in Arabic before they go out to scavenger for their next meal.  

 

One of the  "schools" for these boys just down the street from our home. Every morning, noon and night they traispe past our house in search of food and/or money. Walking by on the sidewalk that passes in front of their "home", we can hear the sing-song voices repeating what they are learning. 

The narrow strip of ground between the wall of the Teacher's courtyard and the open drainage(garbage) canal is where they eat, sleep and learn. 

The sticks protruding from the ground can hold up the mosquito netting if available or serve as a clothes hook. 
They sleep under the stars.  
The understanding is that going without food and a roof over their heads makes the boys strong.  

  

A couple of weeks ago was the Naming Ceremony of our neighbor's baby girl.  The food was plentiful and so were the boys with their bowls, waiting for any leftovers or anyone who was generous enough to share with them.  

  

Life is far from easy for these little Lost Boys of Niamey.  

There are stories of abuse and, from what I'm told, many leave the Teacher and then survive on the streets by thievery.  

Menders and Sharpeners and Polishers

There is yet another group of men that saunters through the Niamey neighborhoods:  the service men. They  are an interesting set because some of them announce their presence by a certain noise that carries amazingly well over the noise of the busy streets. 

The menders/tailors carry their machines and supplies on their heads and announce their approach by constantly clanking the blades of a very large, loose fitting pair of sewing shears-one of those sounds that reverberates throughout the neighborhood.  

Notice the wad of zippers tied onto the machine.  Maybe that is a common mending need.

These machines are run by the hand wheel.  No electricity needed.
On the way to church we often see a mender sitting on the ground on the side of the road with his machine on the ground in front of him, mending away.  

This second group is yet a mystery to me.  They carry bottles of unknown (to me) liquids on their heads and as they walk along the busy streets, they have two small empty glass bottles on the fingers that they smack together to make a unique sound that also carries about the traffic noises.
I need to do my research to find out what they are selling.

This friendly soul was sitting in front of my gate as I returned home this week, sharpening the kitchen knives of our neighbors.  I first met him where I buy my fruit and vegetables and have seen him walking around the neighborhood with his sharpening device on his shoulder.

The shoe polishers are another important group.  The combination of the sandy, dusty roads and the cultural importance of having nicely shined shoes, these fellas do a good business.  There is usually a little stool for the client to sit on as well as a pair of flipflops to put on while the shoe polisher is doing his job.

There are other service men that I haven't snapped photos of as yet and I'm sure others that I have yet to discover.  Until then...

The Walking Clothes Rack

It's not unusual to meet the traveling salesmen who are selling clothing items: socks, shoes, children's clothes, belts, undergarments and most anything one could want.

They display their wares to make it easy to know just what it is that they have.  Yesterday we met a young man selling men's undergarments and he cleverly used a pair of men's briefs as a stocking hat so we would all know just what it was he was selling!   I often meet the boy with a dozen belts around his neck. During the cooler months, the used winter coat salesmen are a common sight.

Big Party Next Door

Last week our next door neighbor, the wife of our night guard, had a baby girl.

We love living next to this family:  the children and the cousins and the aunts and the grandma and others whom we haven't figured out just exactly how they belong, all live and work together in a yard filled with various sleeping rooms and a large outdoor kitchen as well as home to a couple of cows and a myriad of goats and chickens.  The number of contrasts between our lives/yard/house to theirs are beyond description. 

Back to the new baby.  Eight days after the birth of a baby into a Muslim family is the naming ceremony.  I visited the mom and baby the day before and she whispered to me the name that the father had chosen for the new baby girl, but it was not made public until the official ceremony, officiated by the Imam.  

 As we opened our gate onto our driveway at 7:30 am, our front yard was FULL of men sitting in the rented white and blue plastic chairs.  Cars and motorcycles lined the road.  Everyone had come to celebrate the birth of the new baby.

  I quickly made my way through the "man" maze and went into the neighbor's yard where mats were spread on the ground outside as well as inside to accommodate all the women and children who had come to celebrate with the family.  (No chairs here.)

The grandmas were all together in Grandma's sleeping/liviing quarters.

I don't know what happened at the naming ceremony as that is only for the men.  The mama was in her living area surrounded by women family members.  According to custom she is to stay inside for 40 days.

Little Faiza was teeny tiny as she was taken by C-section at 32 weeks.
Tiny, but so beautiful and perfect.

Immediately after the naming ceremony, the food was served.  Bread and tomato sauce for the men, bags of popcorn, sugared, fried cakes for the women and then the large platters of food.  (This was at 8:30am.)

One meal finished and the ladies were working on meal #2 and then meal #3.  You can see the goat being skinned in the background.

Some of the cooks wanted a picture taken of them clowning around.  Lots of laughter.

The partying lasted until sundown.
Guests came and went.
Food was served until it was gone.
The music blared all day long.

Little Faiza was welcomed into the world.

How can they walk so fast with all of that on their HEAD?

Carrying merchandise on a table, on the head is a very clever way to do business.  Really.  No need for signs or advertising; what's for sale is readily seen by all passers-by.  In fact, after a time, it is easy to recognize from a distance what is being sold by the shape and size of the load or in what manner it is carried.

I often wonder how many kilometers these men/boys travel in a day.

These fresh, juicy carrots are in season right now.  My "carrot buddy" installs himself at the round point every morning with his carrots, a tub of water and some reeds (used to tie groups of 3 carrots together).

Instead of a portable table,  the top half of a defunct fan makes a great pan for carrying the merchandise.
 Way to recycle.

Got a headache and need just one pill to take the pain away?  Hopefully your path will cross with the travelling pharmacist. 

Wouldn't you agree that it is quite clever to carrying a stool or table a long with you to sell your goods?  No bending over.  After all, presentation is everything, right?

I like the scissors he has tucked into his stack, as you can purchase one single pill if you want--no need to buy the entire package. 

The flipflop salesman had already lowered his load to the ground before I could get my camera out.  

I met a fella yesterday with this load balanced on his head and doing a fast trot down the street.

Shopping for jewelry.  My neighbors were shopping when I stepped out of our gate (see below).  These boxes are usually not carried on the head but on the shoulders so the shiny jewelry can be seen and admired...and purchased, of course. 

Cookies anyone?  Always a few in the hand to help with the advertising. 

Brooms made from dried plants. 

And the list goes on and on.
Doesn't it make you want to come visit?
You are definitely welcome.
There are endless sights to see.

And the Bikers Part 3 of the Travelling Salesmen Series

The biker salesmen are not as prevalent, but they can move their supply of goods from one place to another with greater speed.   They often have so much piled behind them and so much on their handlebars that handling the bike safely in traffic is challenging.  I like the little stand on the back tire to keep their bike standing straight while they take care of their clients.  The sachets of soap and other household supplies are loaded and ready to go.  

The plastic bag man is a popular salesman.  All the fruit and vegetable vendors need them when they make sales and I use many different sizes and shapes at my own house:.  My favorites are ones for freezing ice and one that is a perfect size for the cards I make.  

I followed this man across the bridge.  He had just picked the lettuce from his garden and was taking it to sell. 

This peddler was making a sale to one of our neighbors as we walked home from church yesterday morning.  He had a huge variety of items for sale including "kold" medicine.  The skill of attaching it all is just amazing.