Nzerekore, one day after ethnic clashes and raids by armed forces.
Credit: IRIN |
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Leaning on the windowsill of his shop, Lamine looks anything but pleased. Customers are scarce despite the abundance of goods on offer and he worries about business and the prospects for his family after the outbreak of violence that shook this commercial crossroads in June.
Lamine is from the Malinké ethnic group, which installed itself in the Forest Region at the end of the 19th century with the assistance of the French colonial authorities. The French used Malinké traders as allies in their colonial project and granted them access to strategic posts in the area, drawing a fierce reaction from other communities in the region.
“There have always been problems between us and the people of the forest [where the main ethnic groups are the Guerzé and the Kpèlè]," said Lamine. “But they always got sorted out. This time it is something else. We are too tired.”
In June, a special army division had to be sent to the town to intervene and separate the two communities. The exchange of fire killed at least two people and dozens of others were arrested, principally Liberian Malinkés, who had the most experience with firearms and in guerrilla warfare.
“We have only one fear now: that the Guerzé will take revenge on us,” said Lamine. “It is not our fault, but this is how we risk ending up.”
You could feel the tension in the town the day after the clashes. Most of the traders had shut up shop, closing the hundreds of kiosks and stalls around the town. Soldiers were out on patrol and people out in the streets walked quickly through the northern districts, seen as the most volatile part of Nzérékoré.
“Life has been difficult since the war in Liberia began in 1990,” explained Lamine. “But it has become worse still since the war in Côte d’Ivoire. Everyone is on top of each other. Things flare up quickly.”
The beginning of the civil war in Côte d’Ivoire in September 2002 has considerably worsened the economic and social situation in the Forest Region, which has traditionally depended strongly on commercial ties between businessmen and farmers on both sides of the frontier.
As a direct consequence of this crisis, the prices of foodstuffs, imported from Abidjan, have shot up, becoming far too expensive for most Guineans.
Thousands of Guineans living in Côte d’Ivoire have fled back to Guinea, depriving their families of regular remittances. It is now those families who play host to the returnees, many of whom lost everything along the way home.
“There are five who arrived at my house empty-handed,” explained Lamine. He said they came from Daloa, a city in west central Côte d’Ivoire. “When there were clashes between the rebels and the army in Daloa they fled here without stopping.” He offered a rueful smile. "They are family. What can I do? I can’t chase them away."
Lamine said life had simply become too expensive in Nzérékoré. “Nobody can buy anything. Prices have gone up too steeply. There isn’t rice for everyone, children never eat meat and there is no work. There are too many people here.”
There was only one solution left for him: to go to look for products on the other side of the Ivorian frontier, or in Mali and Liberia. Officially closed for security reasons, the frontiers open up for lorries loaded with Ivorian palm oil and food- stuffs and soap from Liberia.
Lamine said this kind of cross-border trade was vital, but expensive. “We have no choice and there are all these extra costs: you have to pay off customs officials, police officers and repair lorries which break down all the time.”
To make their own contribution to the household, Lamine’s cousins worked in a field for just 500 Guinean francs a day, around 20 US cents.
Assistance programmes for the returnees were rare and the local authorities had no means to look after their needs. According to the official responsible for community welfare in Nzérékoré, Fadama Kourouma, the social sectors had not had any finance for more than a year and a French-backed programme of aid to villages had been interrupted for reasons of bad governance in Guinea.
“It’s as if we provoked the crisis to punish the government ... but that doesn’t benefit anyone,” said Kourouma.
Still, the residents of Nzérékoré and the villages around said there was no jealousy between them and refugee populations, who benefit in the four camps in the region from food assistance, free schooling and health care.
Most of the local population and former migrants were unable to find means of subsistence and Lamine feared an upsurge of banditry and prostitution.
“There are more and more places in town where you can find girls drinking and listening to music,” he complained. “Young men will hang around there, drink, spend their money and behave irresponsibly.”
The Forest Region hosted some 80,000 refugees, most of them Liberians, according to estimates provided by the UN refugee agency, the UNHCR, at the end of July. Around 20,000 lived in town, according to authorities in Nzérékoré, and their presence did not always go down well with locals.
An official in the town said refugees had different social habits and a less disciplined approach to life than local people.
Lamine had a different perspective: “The refugees have the same problems as we, but things are even worse for them. They have nothing, what can they do?”
He said some of the arrivals belonged to the two guerrilla movements that fought against former President Charles Taylor of Liberia until he went into exile in Nigeria in August 2003. “They are there, in town, they are training. You see them less now than you did before, but they are there. These are Konianké (a sub-group of the Malinké) like us; we talk about them but we are afraid of them”, explained Lamine.
“It’s not good for us,” he added. “I am very worried for my family and my business. I am Malinké and they are members of my ethnic group.”
[ENDS]
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