Politique

20 April 2007

"That guy's got a gun," said David as we limped back into Djenne from the sticky hot countryside. It was too hot to even look at each other when we talked. I scanned the scene in front of us and a car screeched to a stop in the road and a big Muslim man got out with an umbrella tucked under his arm.

"That's not a gun," I contested. "That's an-"

Then the pressure in the atmosphere around us dropped and went hollow and an enormous blast registered from the barrel of a nearby shotgun. A shock of white gunpowder blew through the leaves of the trees, scattering terrified birds into the air.

I looked through the haze to see a man dressed in dark brown animal skin stuffing powder back into his barrel. Dave and I shot down a back alley, as if not led by our own accord, but by a sane voice inside that holds a deep disdain for guns and the frightening power they hold. We beelined down a repugnant dirt road and the children, snot-faced and with swollen bellies, formed a procession behind us. Another shotgun blast sent a shockwave through the air behind us and we picked up the pace, eventually emptying out into the center of Djenne, in front of the looming Grande Mosque.

A crowd of hundreds had formed and a grand pandemonium was under way, with waving banners, banging drums, and dancing women. The crowd had formed a circle, in the center of which rested a large sign with the visage of Ibrahim Boubacar Keïta, holding his hands together in prayer. The words below him read, "Dieu, Mali, Ma Conscience."

There were at least a dozen of these men with guns, in the same outfits, and they blew their hand canons in the air, violently punctuating the sounds of the drums and of the mass of humanity that was gathered. The crowd grew in size and the festivities continued non-stop for 3 hours. There was a sudden change in the tone of the place and a procession of Range Rover broke through the crowd. The military made their presence felt and pushed the people back into ever-widening circles. Children dashed through the open space in apparent games of truth or dare.

The doors of the center car opened and Ibrahim Boubacar Keïta stepped out, floating in a swell of bodyguards and was led to an elevated tent and watched the clamor. The hunters swung their guns around and fired into the sky.

The candidate did not say a word, only presided over the population of Djenne, one more stop on the road leading up to the nationwide elections on 29 April, where he will challenge Amadou Toumani Touré, the current leader and favorite of the people of Mali.