Late in the afternoon we arrived in Bamako after some great days in Timbuktu. We should meet country director for the Children's Foundation in Mali, Mr. André Simamenye. In Copenhagen we had agreed to produce some information material such as photos and text from one of the centres in Mali. After a short meeting we were toured around the national office in Bamako and introduced to all the staff members. André insisted that we should see more of Bamako, so we agreed to come back the next day in the afternoon, where he personally would give us a tour.

Originally it was the plan to see the city from above in the last light of day, but because of the ending of the Ramadan, there was a lot of festive activities and everybody were on the street. It took quite a while to get through the city and when we reached the ridge, the throbbing city had changed to a hermetic Milky Way of lights against the dark sky. That abundantly made up for not seeing the city during daytime.

André also showed us the presidential palace and the monuments around. “Shall we go and knock on the door and see if he is receiving,” Travaini funnily asked. “The president is very popular with the people. As you can see there are no guards so it would not be a problem, if the president were here, that is,” André answered with a broad smile. We continued to a part of Bamako, which we hadn't seen before. We enjoyed dinner in one of the city's modern restaurants and had a cosy evening. Big thanks to André Simamenye.

Badogo – visiting a Danish project

Early Friday morning we met with Madame Aminata Samake Keita, who is program coordinator for the Children's Foundation in Mali and who would follow us to the centre we were about to visit. Badogo is located about 250 kilometres south of Bamako and when we arrived late in the afternoon, the foundations local staff and members of the parents' committee welcomed us. They had prepared dinner; Boiled Guinea fowl in spiced rice, it was delicious. They gave us both a spoon and a fork, we wanted to do like everybody else so we used our hands. Most of our rice finished in the floor though, so after 2 minutes of embarrassment, we accepted defeat and took those spoons.

After dinner we sat up our roof tent. It was a big surprise for everybody, both the grown-ups and the children who had come to see the two strange foreigners in the orange car. One by one they crawled the ladder to see what was inside the tent. As the dark gradually embraced us, people all disappeared and we were alone except for the guard Adama, who slept on a plank bed outside the centre with a kerosene lamb lit from dusk to dawn.

The next couple of days we visited some of the schools that the Children's Foundation have build or renewed in the Badogo area. Most of the children hadn't gone to school and starts in first grade, no matter their age. The many children that starts at the same time and the lack of schools and teachers, could mean up to 70 children in first/second grade and often only with one teacher in all subjects, which are reading, writing and mathematics for the first grades. All children receive necessary school material from the Children's Foundation regardless of, if they are connected with the sponsor program or not. Each grade generally has its own building because they start from scratch when schools are build in the villages. New “classrooms” are built and new teachers are educated gradually when there is need for higher grades. “It's very expensive to hire teachers from outside Badogo. That is why we educate local teachers, who have nine years of schooling as a minimum, to teach elementary school. But everything takes time so we'll have to be patient. Therefore we aim to built at least two classrooms in each building, wherever it's possible so that the teachers can teach in two classrooms simultaneously. The plan is to have elementary school (till sixth grade) in all schools, where after the children must go to another town to continue. Though it's more the exception than the rule that the children receives more than six years of schooling,” tells Mr. Doumbia Mahamadou, program advisor for the Badogo area.

In several of the villages there were established possibilities for income such as animal breeding. For example one of the villages were breeding ducks. The “old” ducks reproduce and were either sold in the market or eaten by the villagers. Children connected to the foundation did the daily work with the ducks. In other villages it was rabbits or another tasty big rodent they were breeding.

Not long ago a midwife moved to the area to take care of the local “maternity ward”. Earlier it was the village medicine man that received the babies in to the world under very insanitary conditions and with high risk for severe infections, which were difficult curing even with medical treatment. The midwife follow the pregnant women and gives them advice and counselling about food and hygiene. Births are now done in the clinic under sterile conditions with medicine and vaccines kept in a refrigerator that runs 24 hours a day. After having given birth the women follow a course for mothers, where the babies and smaller children are weighted, vaccinated and examined, are taught about healthy food and receive answers on the questions they might have, regarding their children.

In the village of Karatou we visited a celebrity. N´Tenin Sidibe, a young women who in spite her age of 30 years had six children, of which the oldest daughter already was married and the last one still breastfeed. When we came to the village she came to greet us with a big smile that revealed some bright white teeth and a happy soul. We knew right away who each other were. She, the whole village and I sat down. We wanted to hear a bit about her life, her singing and her dreams. Madame Samake from the Children's Foundation was translating for us, from Bambara (the main language in Mali) into English.

“What's your name,” I asked with caution. She looked at Madame and told us that her husband would have to be there, before she could answer any questions. One of the men from the village was sent to fetch the husband. There we were, waiting nicely. “She's a real prima donna just like the first lady in an opera. We must wait to be able to speak with her,” Travaini said smiling in the attempt to break the heavy silence. Afterwards he had to explain what prima donna was to the gaping flock without any luck, though.

After a while the husband came on the backseat of a motorbike. Her somewhat older husband Yacouba Sidibe was a square-built man. He kindly greeted everybody but seemed a bit uncomfortable by all the attention. He sat down opposite me and Madame Samake explained what we were after. “No problems,” he said in French and smiled. N´Tenin had her youngest daughter standing by her side while breastfeeding. The little girl in a yellow silk dress with ruffles, turned her head and looked curiously at me, while she sucked her mother's breast, peeing as she stood there.

Once again I asked for her name. ”N'Tenin Sidibe,” she answered while chuckling. She never went to school and started singing when she was around seven or eight. She sang to encourage the workers in the field. “Do you still sing in the field or is mainly at festive occasions,” I asked. Now the husband interrupts and answers for her – it was obviously wrong because she bites him of. “Yes, I sing to weddings, funerals and other parties,” she answered and looked stiffly at the husband. I asked her if she had band. Once again the husband interrupted and answered. N´Tenin smiled and answered anyway. “I sing mostly without accompaniment. If there's a band I sing together with them. ”Do you demand a fee when you are out performing,” I asked. “Earlier I used to take whatever people wanted to give but now I have a fee,” she answered, this time without interference from the husband. It didn't take long though, because when I asked her what her biggest dream was, he answered. “She has no dream.”

It was time for a song. N´Tenin got up, a woman of little stature but with an eminent voice, stood a bit shy and laughed. “I have a dream about being a big and famous singer,” she said proudly and sang so it gave me goose bumps all over. I am sure you could hear her several kilometres from the village. While she was singing she moved her backside, clapped her hands and stamped her feet in the ground so hard that the dust rose in clouds. When she had finished the song we all applauded enthusiastically. Then Mario told all that I too was a singer and it was my turn to perform. I rose with shivering knees and sang a helplessly bad version of You've got a friend - the only song I could remember anything of, just like that. People tried hard to clap their hands in rhythm, which wasn't that easy to that song. N´Tenin also rose and we embraced and swung for some moving seconds. When I had sat down again she immediately started to sing another song and we all clapped hands and stamped in rhythm.

You can listen to the song here

We said goodbye and went with the whole village like a tale back to the car.