Life in Niger: Education, Family, and Migration

I'm traveling to the south of Niger. The heat is merciless today. It's 45 degrees celsius outside but a warm welcome awaits me. Niger has the world's highest number of births per woman with an average of almost seven children for every mother. In this particular village it's even higher than that. Rural communities like these feature in scenarios described by universities hundreds of miles from here predicting that the population of Niger will double over the next 15 years. But isn't it too hard to provide food, to provide education? And you? How many children do you have? Fourteen. And it's over now? The girl there, she has a lot of jewelry and makeup. What does that mean? She's already married? How old is she? No, she didn't say that time. Eleven, I think. Maybe twelve. But too shy to answer. The Sahara, Africa's great desert, is now Europe's most southern border where it combats migration, terrorism and overpopulation. But what do the people of the Sahara think of all this interference? And what can we learn from the people of the great desert? This is exactly the reason why the village is receiving distinguished visitors today. It's a group of theater makers who hope to convince the men and women of the village to take things a bit easier with a view to their babies. Yes, they agree that we should do the science of sensitization, but they don't agree that we should play music, because this is a village of Marabout and music is forbidden there. It's haram. They said, well, since you're not going to play music, we agree to start the science of sensitization. For them, all that is modern, there is something hidden behind it. Like the medication, the hospital, the school. All of this is going to spoil the birth of the children. There are a lot of newspapers that say it's a catastrophe waiting for us. Are they right? Is it a catastrophe here? No, it's not a catastrophe. For me, the richness of Africa, because according to Western thought, you see two things. You say that there is an interaction between the population and the economy. And that to play, you have to diminish the children. For us, the children, the first wealth is man. You have to have a lot of children to try to fight against natural calamity. Because when you have eight children, you're not sure that in the end, you're going to have two that are going to be alive. I understand that. But how am I going to finance a university, a house? Africans think that tomorrow belongs to God. Can we go tomorrow? For us, it's the daily life that interests us. You have regulated the problem of the daily life. You think about tomorrow. It's not tomorrow that interests us, it's today. What proves to you that in 50 years, there won't be a natural catastrophe that will decimate the population? What proves to you that tomorrow, there won't be civil wars that will destroy the population? We don't make projections. This feels like the indomitable village in the books of Asterix and Obelix. They want nothing to do with interference from outsiders. If you want to know why that is, everybody points at the oldest and wisest men among them, the Marabou. Don't you think that we should limit the number of children, because there are too many in your village? I don't know. You are the Marabou. You have a lot of power. Can you say that we should limit the number of children? I don't know. Do you have children? I don't know. How many? I don't know. Life is like a lottery, the Marabou seems to be telling me. A lot of children means security for the people here, because the state is unlikely to provide. Big families are the main provision for old age. On the edge of the Sahara, healthcare has improved so much in recent years, that most children now survive. But the birth rate hasn't changed. You could regard this fast population growth as proof of a better life here, an African success story. But in Europe, they scare that the growth in population will mean more immigrants. The statistics contradict that fear, however. The population of Niger is growing, but immigration numbers are not. They'd rather stay put. And yet millions of euros are sent to Africa every year, officially, in order to improve healthcare, but also in secret hopes of curbing that population growth. I'm not sure what to think of this interference. Would I allow people from other continents to come and tell me how I should behave in the bedroom? I don't think so. No, but the Europeans think that in 20, 30 years, there will be billions of Africans. They will all come. Europe is Eldorado. Europe is wealth. Europe is well-being. You always promote Europe. In our country, everything is bad. But you come and tell me that it's not good. I'll stop and stay. What will I do? I'll go to your country. Because I've become like you. You want to make globalization mandatory. You want the poor Africans in La Brousse to be like the Europeans. You want us to have the same mentality, the same vision. No, we have to accept the difference. The difference is what makes humanity. That's what makes us human. Theatre maker Abdoulaye invites me to lunch with his family. It turns out to be quite a bigger gathering than I had expected. Hey, Abdoulaye. Welcome. How are you? Finally. This is my first wife's room. Over there is my second wife's room. This is my third wife's room. This one has seven children. The other one has three children. This one has two children. And this is my father, my great-grandfather. How old are you? Fourteen. Ten. Ten, right? How old are you? Eleven. You have to count. We are eleven. She has three and he has two. How old are you? She doesn't know how to count. We are the same age, right? We are ten. How old are you? Thirteen. Do you still live with your father? Of course. Does that mean you are not married yet? Yes. Really? I didn't know it was possible in Niger. It is possible. You have proof of that. How old are you? I am twenty-one. I will be twenty-two soon. Are you married? No. Have you ever had a proposal? No, not yet. A lot of men propose to me, but I refuse. You refuse? Why? Because I thought I should at least have a license before I get engaged. You are at university? Higher education. And you are not there at the moment? Over there? Because we are on strike. The children of Niger are rebellious. Of course. Young people are now demanding the rights they have read about in their school books. Strikes have been held in Niger for weeks now, calling for the government to fulfill its promises and offer the people a better future. What is going on with the students here in Zenia? Why are they not protesting? Why are they going to pray? They are not protesting because they do not have the right to do so. The government did not authorize them to do so. Who is going to win this competition? They are going to ask God. As long as we say God, there is no dialogue. Education does not matter to them. Their policy is a foreign policy. It has nothing to do with the citizens. In this context, Nigerians can only implore the good God. The situation has worsened. As proof, 245 students are currently incarcerated in different prisons. If we can't do something about this youth problem, it will risk compromising the situation in the future. This is a clear situation. Human Development Index in Niger. We are the last on the planet. It is very dangerous. A country that produces uranium, coal, gold and oil. The malnutrition is increasing in this country. The regime is our enemy. They are fighting the population. And you are not afraid to say it? Why? Isn't that it? Even if they kill me, I will say it. I prefer it. I travel on to Agadez. For many centuries, the predominant crossroads for travelers in the Sahara. Until Europe put a stop to that. Is traveling along the Sahara still possible? If you want to cross the great desert in this day and age, it's not only the advancing jihadist groups that pose a threat. There's also the European government leaders who would love to build a wall in the sand to stop any Sahara traveler from coming up north. To make the Sahara impassable and travel impossible. These are the 4x4 vehicles in which the drivers of Agadez used to take the migrants from all over West Africa to the borders of neighboring Libya and Algeria. They had seven years of prosperity here and made a fortune driving all those migrants to Libya and on to Europe. But all that ended when Brussels pressed the government of Niger to block the routes in exchange for millions of euros. Thousands of vehicles were confiscated and entire industry ground to a halt. Here it is. 4008. That's it. That's for him? Yes. It's 2016. He paid for his vehicle to transport the migrants to go to Libya to get what they were going to eat. Today his car is here and they still say he's a criminal. We have to tell the European Union to give us our vehicles Do you have a car here? I have two cars here. Can I see them? No, I can't show you because when the car was stopped I said it wasn't for me. So I can't show you. Agadez is the crossroads of West Africa. The final stop before the Sahara. For many centuries the transport business offered golden opportunities. First it was salt, gold and slaves. More recently it were migrants on their way to Europe. Today Agadez is only a shadow of its former self. The smuggling capital it used to be for so long. Because of the new laws that prohibit the transport of migrants more than 6000 people lost their jobs. Smugglers, recruiters. They all had to start looking for a different line of work. So you are the team's director? I am the team's president. Before I made a lot of money in the migration business. I invested a lot. But now I created the team. Now because of the new laws we have to change our activities. You are like Silvio Berlusconi in Italy. Yes, that's right. Silvio Berlusconi of Agadez. You are strict, aren't you? And your team is all Nigerians? No, they are all from Agadez. There are migrants in the team. There are people from Nigeria, from Ivory Coast. He is a migrant. He is number 12. Here? Number 12. Number 12 and? With him. The 3. The 3 and the 12. Libero. That's it. If the money is over with the migrants, if the payment is over, isn't it difficult to finance a football club? Yes, it's not easy. But before, I paid the migrants 100,000 when I did the migration activities. So now, as there is no longer the migration business, the price has dropped. Now I pay. Is it over? No, it's over now. For me, the migration business is over. Only football? Yes, I want to play football. Agadez has become a camp for the thousands of migrants who were sent back from neighboring countries like Libya and Algeria. It's now a halfway house of broken dreams. This is where the journey ends and the road home begins. These are the stowaways of the Sahara. Every one of these migrants here was picked up in the desert by aid workers after they were deported, many of them by force, from neighboring Algeria. But those who accept this help also consent to a forced return to their home country. This is an offer you are not allowed to refuse. They sent us to the middle of the desert. We had nothing. They didn't give us water or anything. We were left in the desert like this. They arrested us with guns because they said that those who run or those who try to do something, they will shoot them. The Algerians are racists. They don't like black skin. They want to call us and say that we are black. Or black. Where did you want to go? I wanted to go to England. England? Yes. Are you going to come back to Guinea? Yes, we have to go back now. It's the only way now. It's the only way. Because if they tell you to go back to the desert to try to get to Algeria, you can't do it, my brother. I prefer to go back now. How old are you? I'm 14 years old. 14 years old? Yes. Did you travel to Algeria too? Yes, I traveled to Algeria. By yourself? Yes. By yourself? Yes. All alone? Yes. But it's dangerous, isn't it? Yes, it's dangerous. I didn't say why it's only in the world or why it's in Europe. Because there is no work here. What are you going to do? Are you going to try again? Yes, God willing, I'm going to try again. I'm a sportsman. I want to go home to my brother. He's in Paris. They sold me to Tamarazid. Sold? Yes. How? They sold me. Who? Victoria. They sold me to my brother. As a slave? He's a slave. What did he do to you? Did you see? He sold me to the British. They sold me to my brother. They sold me to the British. They sold me to my brother. You have to go to Togo. I have already interviewed people. It's good, you can go to Togo. They say it's not up to them, it's up to our presidents, it's up to our presidents who decided to bring us back home. So that's it. If it doesn't work, we have to... You can't stay without doing anything. You have to take the risk of living or dying, it's not a problem, it's a choice. But the only thing I could do was to continue to see where I was going. For my family. And I lost. My journey didn't succeed. I run into an old acquaintance. Two years ago I first met Aghali, as one of the most successful smugglers of Agadez. I'm keen to find out how he's doing now. What did you write? These are the moments of the passengers. They wrote these things, the others are their memories, for their brother when he comes here. Does that mean you've stopped everything? Yes, I've stopped everything. How many migrants do you think you've had in your life? Hundreds. Well, that's a lot. And do you remember the people? Do you still think of them? Well, on WhatsApp or Facebook, it changes. Messages to others are in Russian, to others in French, to others in Italian, to others in Spanish, to others in Moroccan. Has everyone survived? Not all of them. I've asked for help, according to the others, who are alive. There are a lot of people who have died. But it's at the level of the boats. But do you feel that their lives are your responsibility to stop here? No. I don't have that feeling. Because when they come here, I tell them that they know what's going on. It's their choice. Crisis meeting in Agadez. The former smugglers get together to complain about their new existence. The money that was promised by the European Union, intended to prevent upheaval, has reached only very few people here. The smugglers of Agadez will have to reinvent themselves, while many of them wait in vain for the money from Brussels meant to compensate the loss of their jobs. The smugglers of Agadez will have to wait in vain for the money from Brussels There is no money at all. There are no jobs. The government has no money for us. They don't work for us. Do you know why the government of Agadez didn't work for us? They didn't give us any money. What's going on here? You're saying that the Ukrainian money was stolen? Yes, it was stolen. We can't say it was stolen. We are not in agreement with the European Union. Because the European Union promised to give, and it gave. We followed it on TV, we followed the information, and it gave. But what they gave now, it has arrived in the region of Agadez, now it is lost. But where is the money? They gave it to people they know. Their children, their relatives. They gave it to them. The government, the police, the police are the ones who are responsible for the people. They are responsible for everyone. It is not their fault. They're the ones who are responsible for the people. God has given us money. We are not in agreement with the European Union. But where is the money? And the chairs are for what? To make a restaurant. To make a restaurant? Yes, yes. There's gas. Gas. You see, there's a matinee, there's a bed, there's oil. But for a restaurant? Yes, for a restaurant. You need tables, don't you? Yes, you need tables, you need seats, you need chairs. A lot of things are missing. Is it serious to become a restaurant owner? Yes, yes, it's serious, it's serious. I want to do that. Here. Here are the carnivals. What's that? Yes, that's the carnival. That's the carnival. You see. That's what people do. So, they gave us this. They gave us this. So we can learn what we're going to do. For example, I said I wanted to make a restaurant. There are people who said they were going to make a shop. There are people who said they were going to make motorbikes, taxis. I heard that even people who weren't passers-by at all, who had nothing to do with migration, received some money. No, no, no, that's not true. It's not true? You made all this application for passers-by. For a lot of passers-by. Today it's 300,000. And now they have nothing. They're angry with us. They're angry, that's clear. They're angry with us. Because they didn't pay for the financing. They're right. Did they pay you to do this? To make the applications? No, to make the applications, they pay. To make the file, you have to pay money. How much does it cost? They pay 10,000 to go see the technician. Even I paid 10,000 to make the file. He has his office. He has his computer. He has his equipment. So what is it? Are you the director now? I'm the director of my company. So you bought the computer yourself? No, no, no. I came, I set up the file of a real estate agency. Intermediate to real estate. So the computer is a thank you from the European Union? Yes. But a thank you is too much. It's too much. But it's really because... No, it's too much. It's a budget of 1,500,000. Rather, 1,400,000. My financing is 1,420,000. For someone who touches 700,000 every Monday. What do you mean? Yes, yes, continue. With the agency, I didn't gain anything. You know, here, a passer-by. Here, they say, it's not someone you're going to trust first. I don't have enough clients. The clients don't trust me. But still, I created another opportunity here. I set up a lot of files, you know. To fill up the budget. Yes, to fill up the canevas. And yet, you gave me money. It's never free with you. Nothing is free with me. I travel on to Agadez. For many centuries, the predominant crossroads for travelers in the Sahara. Until Europe put a stop to that. Is traveling along the Sahara still possible? If you want to cross the great desert in this day and age, it's not only the advancing jihadist groups that pose a threat. There's also the European government leaders who would love to build a wall in the sand to stop any Sahara traveler from coming up north. And to make the Sahara impassable and travel impossible. But just like his mother, his mother always has a strong love for his son. Every time we talk to him, we tell him everything. His father is his son. Another question. People are angry with a disabled man. A disabled man? Yes. Ah, that's right. Because he's the mayor's committee president. And what did he do? He was appointed as the committee president by the municipality of Agadez. But why do we say he betrayed? He betrayed because now, when we came to distribute people, to the people of the 1,500,000 proposed, he chose among his entourage. That's where he posed the problem. 6,000 people who want the compensation, a project, and only 41 people? There are 41 people on the first page who have a project. But among the 41, there are also three people who are passers-by. Own passers-by. Own passers-by who are in this work of immigration. And the others? The others, I don't know, are family and friends. Because it's like they call them here in Niger, FAC in French. Family, friends and acquaintances. Corruption. That's it. There are a lot of people here in Agadez. If you don't have enough work, please go to the table to get some gold. If you have the chance, go. If you don't have the chance, come back. That's all. So it's the only way. It's the only way now. It's the only way in the Sahara. And the rest? It's all blocked. In this part of the Sahara, the makeable world of European bureaucrats clashes with the boundless freedom of the desert. This is the domain of haggsters and hagglers who always find a way to survive in such harsh circumstances. A colleague once told me travelling is only real travelling if you don't know where you'll sleep that night. Now we've left the world of paved streets and hotels far behind us. It's like a big city. Yes. Here? Yes. It's a big city. Because there are a lot of peasants here. Really? And they still live here. Before, years ago, they didn't have any work. But now, with the gold, everyone comes here to make a living. Where do they come from? They come from Mali, Nigeria, Libya, Algeria, and Sudan. So this is a village of ex-migrants and ex-passers-by. They're all here. Yes. It's a big hole, isn't it? Yes, it's a big hole. It's about... 40 metres deep. 40 metres? Yes, 40 metres deep. You can see the pollution coming out of the water. That's it. That's what we're doing now. One day we go, the next we don't. Do you prefer to go to Libya? No. It's not good to go to Libya. There are too many problems there. That's why we stay here. We do this. We have two families. We live here. Aha. And this is the gold? Yes. How much does a rock like this cost? It costs 1,000 francs. 1,000 francs? Yes. It costs 1,000 francs. It's nothing. Working in the gold mines of Tabalot is like a Sisyphean task. I can't imagine that the smugglers who used to make thousands of euros a week would be willing to do this cruel work. Not only does it pay poorly, it's also beneath their dignity. Back in Agadez, I'm astonished to see a recruiter at the bus station busily looking for migrants. And that means that even the policemen who are trained by Europe don't always do what Europe wants? No. They can't do that. They can't. They can't control all the desert to look at the desert because the desert is vast. There are always smugglers. It's always like that? Yes, yes. There are cases like that. If you give the smugglers, it's as if we didn't see you, you didn't see us. So... You're saying that nothing has changed? No, but what has changed? Nothing has changed, I think. It's normal. Yes. Even on Monday, tomorrow evening, if you have time, you come at 3 p.m. or 4 p.m. I ask you, I want to show you how people leave. Yes, can you show me? Of course. Could it be true that the transport of migrants isn't closed down after all, despite what most smugglers here have been telling me? Today is Monday, which has always been the day of departure. It wasn't very long time ago that you could see the 4x4 vehicles jam-packed with migrants driving through the streets of Agadez. But I'm not seeing any just yet. But then suddenly, the town begins to move. Where are you from? Libya. You're going to Libya? Yes. Which country are you from? Nigeria. Nigeria? And you? I'm Chadian. Chadian? I don't understand anything. You don't understand anything. But the European Union has given hundreds of millions of euros to stop migration. To stop it, it's like a theatre. I don't understand. It's like a theatre.