Why do some neighbours know how to live well together and others don’t? In the Beissa sub-prefecture, the indigenous farmers have a different relationship with the neo-herders than in Tapol, which is just 60km away. I’m travelling to Tapol to make a comparison.
Conflicts of interest in Beissa
The Beïssa sub-prefecture is where I grew up. Beissa lies in the savannah, on an exundated plain where small streams flow over land that is very fertile for farming. There are several villages with a population made up mainly of Ngambayes. The population is less educated because of the lack of school facilities. The non-aligned houses are built of non-durable materials (rammed earth and straw). What’s more, our sub-prefecture is landlocked because we don’t have an improved road leading to major centres like Moundou. Before I left my village to study in town, I had lived a very unhappy life because of my parents’ socio-economic situation. In my last years in Beissa, this situation deteriorated with the arrival of a new type of herder.
These days, the term neo-herders is used almost everywhere in Chad. Literally taken, the term can be used for different types of herders that have appeared in recent years for very different reasons. In practice, the term is mainly used to refer to big businessmen and politicians who manage large herds and hire herdsmen.
For Mbairebé Gaspard, a man aged 74, there has been no peace in the Beïssa sub-prefecture since the arrival of the neo-herders in 2000. Gaspard invited me into his house. ‘Sit down’ he said, showing me a half-woven mat. The wise man and I sat facing each other on the same mat and my guide on a baked brick next to us. A pile of straw used to weave the mat was placed at the foot of a small mango tree. 10 metres from the mango tree, a red bull was grazing on the grass.
I was born in 1951 and my age is equal to the age of the village,’ he proclaimed with a smile. In a low voice, Gaspard began to tell the story of the village. The first farmer to come to this village was called Alhadji Roi,’ he told me. With him there were no ‘fakes’. He kept his oxen away from our fields. And he always ‘negotiated with us to let his herds graze in the fields that had already been harvested’, the wise man went on to say more precisely. But suddenly, in a raised voice, Gaspard asserted that there had been no peace since the arrival of the new breeders: ‘They’ve come to kill us because they let their herds destroy our fields, but they won’t pay us back’.
Gaspard’s words are harsh but not incomprehensible. In my village, the neo-herders’ cattle are camped closer to the fields. As a result, they destroy the fields on their way to or from the pastures, often without paying back the farmers. The real damage always starts in June when the crops germinate and in October-November when the crops are ready to harvest. Unfortunately, this destruction of fields is not without consequences.
In June 2009, the destruction of a field led to a fight between a farmer and his brothers against the herdsmen. During the brawl, a herdsman was killed and several local farmers were injured, and 7 people were arrested. A dozen of the farmers’ oxen were confiscated by the new breeders. Despite the confiscation of these oxen, a sum of 200,000 fcfa was paid by the farmers to the neo-breeders by way of ‘Dia’ (blood money). In addition, some hamlets were burnt down with all the sacks of cereals stored, as was the case in our village in November 2023. During the conflict in 2023, a schoolboy was hit twice in the head and chest by an arrow. He was taken to hospital in Moundou to save his life. Many cases have been recorded, such as the theft of indigenous farmers’ oxen by herdsmen, and the threatening of women when they go off alone to work in the fields.
But it’s not just the arrival of the new breeders that has raised tensions in Beissa. In recent times, the population of the sub-prefecture has been increasing very rapidly. Before, it was the head of the family who was expected to plough the land to feed his wife(s) and children. Farming was practised solely to feed family members. But nowadays, with modernisation, it’s not just the head of the family who ploughs, but also women and children. As the population increases, so do the number of fields. As a result, green spaces for pasture are being taken over by agriculture, and this has led to conflict between farmers and neo-herders in my locality.
Travel to Tapol
Tapol is a sub-prefecture in the Dodje department. It is located at the crossroads of the Moundou – Mbainanar axis (capital of the department). It is a more favourable location than Beissa. Tapol has a large weekly market and a livestock market, where traders from Moundou and many other towns buy cereals, cattle and sheep every Sunday. There are several shops, a general secondary school and a secondary school. Despite raising livestock, the new breeders also plough like the indigenous farmers. They plough rice, maize and groundnuts.
I arrive in Tapol early in the morning to meet Mahamat, a neo-breeder from Tapol, with whom I have an appointment to better understand the relationship between farmers and neo-breeders in the sub-prefecture. When I arrived at his shop, I sat down next to two young men on a wooden bench outside his door. After 10 minutes, a tall, lanky man with a long beard walked briskly towards the shop. Salamaleikhoum, khef halkou? he asked. Maleikhoume salam, Al hamdillah (yes hello, we’re fine). He turned to me and asked: Hai dabass ita wa? (Is that you?) Ayé ana bass (Yes, that’s me) I replied.
After the short introduction, Ibrahim ordered the waiter to serve me a glass of tea. It should be noted that sharing tea is a sign of solidarity and peace in the Muslim community. Although I am a Christian, my presence did not cause any problems among these Muslim newcomers. As I sipped my glass of delicious tea, Ibrahim approached me respectfully and asked me what was happening in the town. He began by complaining about the state of the N’djamena-Moundou road before worrying about the flooding in the country. All my answers were affirmative. When I’d finished my tea, Ibrahim invited me into the shop. I got up and gently followed the new breeder into his shop.
Mahamat Ibrahim Saleh had said that herders and farmers should not live in conflict. According to him, the two communities are closely linked. That’s why he said that ‘in Chad, you can’t eat Moula (sauce) without Heche (cous-cous)’. I realised at that moment that food plays an important role in managing the conflict between farmers and herders. According to Ibrahim, moula and heche are two recipes derived from livestock rearing and agriculture. This recipe is a basic food for Chadians. That’s why it would be unfair to create problems for farmers,’ he says in a soft voice. For Mahamat Ibrahim Saleh, the field does not move, but it is the livestock that moves with the herdsmen. He went on to say that the conflict between herders and farmers is political in origin. It’s politicians living in town who are causing this division. Because they are in town and don’t know the realities on the ground, they won’t be able to resolve the conflicts between farmers and herders’. During the interview, which took place inside the shop, customers came and went. Others were being served by the 14-year-old boy standing next to us at the door.
Peaceful conflict management
As well as the vital role that sharing food plays in social cohesion, there is also language knowledge. In Tapol, two languages are spoken: Ngambaye and Foulata. Despite the ethnic diversity of the new breeders, most of them speak Foulata as well as Ngambaye, as do the indigenous farmers, who speak Foulata fluently.
For Ibrahim, it would be impossible to say that oxen should not destroy the fields: ‘I have often ordered my herdsmen to guard the cattle well, but if a field is destroyed I come myself to the owner to settle the matter. Since we speak the same local languages, we manage our problems well.
Mahamat Ibrahim Saleh, a new breeder, said that the only way to resolve the breeder-farmer conflict is through dialogue. I negotiate directly with the owner of the field, not with his family or the authorities,’ he said. Ibrahim adds that ‘I speak the Ngambaye language well and I manage the problem myself’. With each speech, the farmer raised his right hand to the sky while pointing his index finger. His testimony always began and ended with the word ‘Allah’. Dressed in a large boubou, the man with the long beard remained in an authoritative but very sympathetic posture.
Advantages of the passage corridors and grazing areas
According to the testimonies of the protagonists, the devastation of fields, the occupation of grazing areas and the obstruction of water access corridors are the main causes of the conflict. Unfortunately, these corridors do not exist on the ground. According to scientists, marking out passage corridors could have a positive effect on relations between farmers and new herders. For Mahamat Ibrahim Saleh, the indigenous farmers and the new herders will have to take responsibility for respecting the transhumance corridors. ‘I always tell my herdsmen to graze away from the fields with the cattle. And to my farmer brothers, don’t cultivate where the cattle are,’ says Ibrahim.
However, the relevant authorities need to think about marking out transhumance corridors and pass laws and rules to ensure that they are respected. The two communities must each shoulder their responsibilities: farmers must avoid the trap fields, and herders must keep their livestock away from the fields and wait for the harvest before grazing on the residues.
Scene with a young farmer
After completing an interview with the new breeder, I set off along the main road back to Moundou. Stopping under a large mango tree to wait for the lorry, I met a young man of about 30 standing next to a stamp selling tablets. A greeting and a smile between us signalled the start of a good friendship. The young man asked me to sit next to him on the bench opposite the shop of a Muslim whose voice from their chat crossed the main road from one moment to the next.
A chat was opened on the question of the relationship between indigenous farmers and new breeders. The young man’s first contribution was about respect: <<We respect the new breeders and they respect us too>>. Going further in his testimony, my interlocutor threw in the tore at the involvement of the authorities and/or politicians in the farmer/neo-herder conflict. When asked whether the neo-herders‘ oxen were destroying the farmers’ fields or not, the fasting man confirmed this, saying that the conflict was being managed peacefully. This is what has not caused the consequences in terms of human and material loss.
I sat next to my farmer friend for 30 minutes when a white Toyota Land Cruiser arrived. The driver, a Muslim, got out to greet his parents. The young man and I stopped talking. We promised to talk more by exchanging phone calls. At this precious moment, the driver of the vehicle addressed a greeting to my friend in Ngambaye, saying: Bann wa Fidèle? I to maje sei? Maou Moundou (‘How are you Fidèle? I’m off to Moundou’). After that, he invited me to get into the vehicle while I said goodbye to my young man.
