Today has been a day of trivialities, where I have been doing a number of seemingly unimportant things that do not generate much inspiration for my part, but which needed to be done nevertheless. I wrestled with the KLM telephone system and finally managed to get through to right person, and got to confirm my return day (which is on Thursday) without having to pay for the date change (because of the funeral). I also faxed in an application for a 20kg extra luggage allowance, which Anette and I were granted last time we went, and which meant so much as there are a number of things you cannot find in my part of West Africa but which facilitates things greatly! I don’t know if we’ll get it this time as well, but at least the application has been handed in. After lunch, I went shopping one last time, although I still have to drop by the pharmacy before I leave. The day went far too quickly, but “at least I got some things done.”

Copyright Eden Foundation 2007

Days like this always make me wonder how the West measures life quality, for all too often, life is measured by what we have achieved or by what we have purchased. What a far cry from the life in the bush…

Copyright Eden Foundation 2007

You see, I had the privilege of meeting this man. A man small in size, but large in wisdom and dignity. His name was Musa Tauro and he is my hero. He lived out in nowhere, but it was one of the most amazing places I have ever been to, and had there just been a just a little bit of permanent water, I could very well have set up a tent and settled there, without ever missing civilization or any of the things I bought while shopping today. Coming from a nomadic descent, Musa had set up his house well away from the rest of the tiny village, where he lived in tranquility with his family, tending to his field and his cattle. I cannot even describe how peaceful and amazing it was. Although he at a first glance would definitively be assumed poor in Western eyes, he was rich in cows and Eden trees. He traveled much. It wasn’t that he loved to travel, but he was very fond of his family, and traveled to visit his relatives who were spread out all over West and North Africa. It did not take me long to realize that this little man in the midst of nowhere had seen more of Africa than I had. I was impressed. We spoke for a long time. He showed us his Eden trees and talked about his plans for the future. He invited us home and we sat down together on the ground, in the courtyard as is Nigerien custom. He had a soft voice, which I fell in love with, for it was a subtle voice of wisdom where every word mattered. I noticed that they were producing rope and he offered to teach me how to do it. As a contrast to the usual Nigerien ordinary setting, this man in the most remote part of the bush (and surely one of those who would have been the most affected by the ‘famine’ of 2004 - had there been a famine) offered me homemade cheese when I arrived and eggs when I left. He thanked me over and over again for having taken the time to visit, and I knew that I had honored him by giving him something so incredibly valuable in his eyes - namely my time and interest. But I don’t think he understood how much he gave me.

People often ask me why I love Niger, and when I meet other expat volunteers, they look shocked when I say that I have been in the country for twenty years. “And are you going to stay…?” they ask incredulously, as if no one could ever want to live in such a badly underdeveloped country as Niger. I know this is the country where all things fall apart and where all too many people (but not all!) suffer from a lack of motivation to do something about their situation, because they believe it is their lot in life to endure. I know that if you come to Niger with a Western grid, you can never learn to love it, because it will just simply never fit.

But Niger is Niger. It is different and unique. It brings me something special, something extra, something that I can’t get in a speedy society where people don’t have the time to sit down and do nothing, even if they’d want to. But the truth is, few are those who can actually afford it, for in the Western World, time is money, and there is always something more we should do to further enhance our life quality. Musa Tauro however taught me - not in words but by inviting me into his life - that there is beauty in contentment and if we just look around, we are far richer than we ever thought.