Central Mosque, Elevage. Central African Republic, August 2021 © Lys Arango
"This is the fifth time we had to migrate and only the first one was voluntary. I was born in Boali in a family of shepherds, but I wanted to improve the lives of my children and my wife, so we decided to move to Bangui. In the capital it was easy to find work. I worked in stores, in markets and the most stable job and the last one I had was as a guardian.
"In 2013, with the war between the armed groups, life got complicated. We lived in fear because we heard about massacres against Muslims, destruction of mosques, but the turning point was when we saw our neighbors being killed. We fled to Kuango, where we managed to settle in a Peul camp for some time, but after a year the conflict escalated in this area, so we fled again. This time to Ippi, where we lasted two years until things got bad again and in 2016, we finally made it to Bambari to live at the IDP camp Elevage. It´s been five years and now, after the burning of the camp we have to start from zero once again. But where? How? I still don't have the answers.
"These days I am very sad. My mother died. She has not been able to take one more change. Since we got kicked out from Elevage, she refused to eat, she didn't sleep and hardly spoke. She died last week and we buried her in the Bambari cemetery, a long way from her homeland."
- Youmusa Aguida, 55. Central African Republic, August 2021 © Lys Arango
Youmusa thought that his family had finally found safety. But after a period of relative quiet, a new wave of violence hit the country at the end of 2020, linked to the national election process. As clashes broke out in Bambari, all the camp’s 8,500 residents were forcibly expelled on 5 June. All buildings, including mosques, shops and a malaria point set up by Doctors Without Borders / Médecins Sans Frontieres (MSF), were burned to the ground.
Central Mosque, Elevage. Central African Republic, August 2021 © Lys Arango
Like most of the people who were forced to leave Elevage camp, Youmousa and his family now live in the compound of Bambari’s central mosque, while others are being hosted by local families. Living conditions around the mosque are dire. People share small, crowded rooms, others sleep in makeshift shelters. The rainy season makes the situation worse.
When a storm hits, the water comes in from all sides. The tarp is old and has holes, and the ground is just dirt so the inside of the shelter becomes a mess. But the hardest thing for me is to feel useless, because we are entirely dependent on humanitarian aid. I would like to go back to the land we abandoned near Elevage, but if the authorities see you with a machete, they arrest you. I pray every day that they take us out of here, somewhere where we can live in peace.Yougouda Bangagui, 73 years old
Yougouda Bangbagui, 73, lying down in his tent in the Central Mosque of Bambari. He is quite sick and the hardest thing for him is feeling useless. Central African Republic, August 2021 © Lys Arango
Living in constant fear
People living in the makeshift camp do not feel safe. Forty-year-old Hawa Oukourou and her husband have not left the mosque since they arrived. She says she is afraid of being arrested because they don’t have identity cards. They sometimes send their children to find firewood and food. But she worries about her eight young daughters.
Hawa Oukarou, (40 yrs) has nine children. They sleep all together in a corner of the classroom inside the mosque. There are two other families with whom they share the space. Central African Republic, August 2021 © Lys Arango
When they leave the mosque, I worry that something could happen to them, that maybe they won’t come back, that someone steals them from me.Hawa Oukourou
Her husband, Rebeau Bouda, says he can barely sleep because of the worries. He feels bad about not being able to feed and protect his family.
My dream is to find a place where we can settle forever, where no one can kick us out. I would like to speak to the armed groups and ask them: what do they gain by generating so much pain?Rebeau Bouda
The cycle of violence continues.
In mid-August, 17-year-old Sallet Abdoulay returned from herding his cows outside the town when an armed man on a motorbike suddenly stopped and fired shots at him, leaving him bleeding on the floor.
Doctors from the Bambari hospital prepare Sallet Abdoulai's departure and transport him to the Doctors Without Borders vehicle. Central African Republic, August 2021 © Lys Arango
A friend later managed to get the young man to the Doctors Without Borders-supported hospital in Bambari, where doctors were able to remove a bullet from his abdomen and stabilise him. But the damage to Sallet’s spine was so severe that our teams had to transfer him by plane to the capital, Bangui, to get specialist treatment.
His 57-year-old father never left his side. He, too, almost lost his life once, and spent three months in the hospital in Bambari. The machete scars that cover his body tell a story of many years of suffering.
Children with no future
The ongoing conflict has also left more invisible scars, especially on children. Young boys roam the streets of Bambari, selling kola nuts to make a meager living. Most are from Lima, a village close to Bambari, that was attacked by an armed group in 2014. The children have all lost one or both parents.
Idrissa, 10, lives with his mother and younger brother in the centre of the town.
"I sell a fruit called Cola on the street. I walk all day, from 7 in the morning until 7 in the afternoon. I can earn between 150 CFA up to 1500 on a good day, like on weekends. The best place to sell is near the bars, where the men drink beer." Iddrisa Adraman, 10. Central African Republic, August 2021 © Lys Arango
When my father was killed, my mother fell into deep sadness. She spends the day crying, she doesn’t do anything else. So it’s my turn to go out and work. I walk around all day, from seven in the morning to seven at night, selling kola. Until last year, I went to school, but now it’s closed. All teachers have left Bambari because of the conflict and it makes me sad. I know if I don’t learn, I won’t become a great man.Idrissa, 10 years old
The children here have witnessed a lot of violence in their young lives and are at risk of being recruited by armed groups while being alone in the streets. But they haven’t given up hope for a better future.
My dream is to become president of the Central African Republic. I would give money to poor people so that they could make a living from trade and not from arms.Amadou, 12 years old
