Photo: Emil, the village health aide and our contact in the Bedick village of Angel, stands aside the scene of a tragic accident outside Kedougou in southeast Senegal. The intoxicated driver of the taxi struck a motorcycle head-on. We later learned that the two motorcycle passengers were transported to the hospital in Tambacounda with very serious injuries.
The story begins at the end.
We had arranged transportation from the Bedick village of Angel back to Kedougou through the Hotel Relais. Along the way we stumbled upon a disabled taxi on the shoulder of the laterite road that connects Kedougou with Salamata.
(Kedougou is the hub for southeast Senegal. The route from Dakar to Kedougou takes you through the city of Kaolack, to Tambacounda, through Niokola Koba National Park, to Kedougou. It’s an 11 hour drive. Kedougou is a dusty place, and has the feel of a frontier town. It’s out there. A dirt road connects Kedougou with the Bassari village of Salamata, and a number of other smaller Bassari and Bedick villages.)
My first impression was to keep going, to dismiss it; the taxi and its driver were no longer our problem. Introducing hard alcohol into an otherwise innocent camping trip into southeast Senegal voided all contracts and obligations, and it was time for us to bail.
We stopped. It was our responsibility to attend to injuries. Was it our taxi? Was B. still inside the vehicle passed out, or injured?
My god, what had happened here?
It was our taxi. I recognized the luggage rack on the roof.
The vehicle was totaled. No one, thankfully, was inside. The right front fender was smashed in, the windshield shattered, with a clean hole just above the left side of the steering column. The impact had been very severe. What had it struck?
The taxi was heading west, toward the village. It had been traveling on the left edge of the road, into opposing traffic, and had skidded off onto the left shoulder in the last few meters.
We stood around with several passersby and discussed what might have happened. The taxi had hit a motorcycle, presumably head on. A large amount of blood was evident on the roadway at the point of impact and thirty meters away where the taxi had finally settled.
Note video.
There were disturbingly few recognizable fragments of the motorcycle, as if it had been shattered on impact.
While the scene, and all its implications, were chilling, we had already that morning fired, as it were, our driver.
The evening prior he had returned to Angel intoxicated. He had spent the day in Kedougou getting the vehicle repaired, in anticipation of our departure the next morning. Unfortunately, his purchase in town had included a bottle of whisky, which was half empty by the time we’d discovered it in the early evening. B. was rambling, erratic, interrupting, dominating, drunk. He’s a big boy, wrestler-size, in the order of 250 lbs, not someone I’d choose to antagonize.
Steve and I were stunned at the sight of the bottle. It represented a violation of trust and respect on a variety of levels. When B. poured some of it into a plastic cup to be shared among the villagers we had come to know, Steve and I promptly bid all a good evening, and got the hell out of there.
The next morning, no one was forthcoming about the events of the prior evening. This was very unfortunate, given the trust I’d invested in C., our guide and translator. Details were revealed only hesitantly, in dribs and drabs.
There had been a concert in the neighboring village of Bandafassi, a New Year’s celebration. B. drove a small group from Angel, without our knowledge, to Bandafassi, with the intent of returning to Angel before sunrise. Steve and I presumably would not be told. C. was slow to admit his part in this, and his intent to deceive. Had we known about the party, Steve and I would have welcomed their attendance, particularly given our plan to depart the next day, and layover in Kedougou. But the mix of hard liquor, and an intoxicated driver, was a completely different matter.
C. confided that he and Emil, the health-aide in Angel, lost track of B. in Bandafassi. B. had earlier voiced his intent to return to Kedougou. When B. had not shown up later in the morning, C. and Emil walked back to Angel, wanting to return before Steve and I arose and discovered their absence.
We had arranged to meet that morning with Samuel, a local potter and blacksmith, who would be firing a collection of clay figurines and firing up his hand-operated forge. When B. had not shown up, Steve and I agreed to act as if he would be arriving, and trek our belongs down to pick-up point below the village. (Angel, as most Bedick villages, is relatively isolated in the mountains. Access requires a steep hike along an obscure trail.)
This was no ordinary trip. Things began falling apart even before we left Dakar, when the boot of B.’s vehicle failed to latch. Even before reaching Tambacounda, we had radiator problems and a dead battery, which required a tow into the small road-side town of Maleine Niani. We spent several hours awaiting repairs in Maleine and Tambacounda, and ended up overnighting at a campement in Wassadou.
By this time, Steve and I had become accustomed to huddling to discuss options and next steps. I felt that to continue the trip we must play along with B., do what needed to be done, pay for the new replacement battery (he seemed to assume that we would pay for all car repairs), and I would bill A., the trip coordinator, later. Confronting B. would simply end the trip, and all of our planning, costs and efforts would be for not. This is why we continued to Kedougou and ultimately the Bedick village of Angel.
When B. had not arrived back at the village the next morning, we fired him, and agreed to severe all ties. After spending an hour with the potter/backsmith Samuel, we contacted the Hotel Relais in Kedougou, and arranged pick-up, having planned a day off in Kedougou to enjoy the comforts of a hotel with a pool.
En route, we realized the worst.
Once in Kedougou, we stopped by the office of the National Gendarme to report the accident and our association with the driver. B. was there, seated before a desk, sullen. We shook hands, nothing more. The officer with whom we met explained that nothing was required of us. He said that alcohol-related accidents such as this were not uncommon. While we did not inquire into the charges being leveled again B., we learned that the passengers on the motorcycle were very badly injured and had been transported to Tambacounda.
We departed the office, no exchange or acknowledgement with B.. He was entirely on his own now. The trip was over, and we would return to Dakar by sept-place in the morning.
We checked into the Relais, and took a few hours off to regroup. Each of us needed some time to make sense of what had happened. How many would be affected by these events, foremost the injured, if they were to survive their injuries, and the families of the injured, and all of their relations? It was a complete tragedy.
A kind of quiet shock and disbelief had set in. We have and will continue to give voice to these emotions over days. This writing certainly comes from a need to make sense of it all.
Steve, C. and I had dinner at Le Regal in Ouakam last night, before C. headed to back his family in Guediawaye. A television was carried out so that the restaurant staff and patrons could watch the final lutte contest between two well-known wrestlers. It was good fun, with the waitresses yelling and cheering during the match, followed by hugs of congratulations when the undefeated defending champion dropped his opponent like a sack of potatoes, albeit a really big sack. Fireworks, likely leftover from New Year’s, were set off, exploding above us. I prefer that the favorite win when amongst his fans.
C. agreed to phone the National Gendarme in Kedougou today to check both on the condition of the injured in Tambacounda, and the charges pending against B.. Personal closure will require that I know the rest of the story.
There will be other casualties of these most unfortunate events: the owner of the taxi, who will be liable for damages; the tour operator and his business, who is financially liable for all costs incurred, amounting to 355,000 CFA (about $800); and to the village of Angel, into which this drama was injected.
While there are a number of cultural components associated with the events of the past week, one of the most interesting is the contradiction between practical preparedness and the attribution of mechanical failure to superstition or supernatural forces. A leaky radiator can be attributed to the evil eye rather than poor maintenance. The solution might be a gris-gris rather than consultation with a skilled mechanic. Magic trumps reason and preparedness.
Added 24 hours later: B. remains in the custody of the National Gendarme in Kedougou. One of the victims is back in Kedougou, with lesser injuries; the second has been transferred from Tambacounda to Kaolack, with serious injuries. We have no other details. Steve and I have had a full day to settle-in and clean-up. I return to diving today. The impact of the last few days continues to reverberate. We wonder about the consequences for those more intimately connected.
Added 1.6: Abdul contacted the National Gendarme in Kedougou again tonight. Sadly, he learned that the accident victim who was transferred to the hospital in Kaolack has died. Bouba remains in custody in Kedougou.
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