The Enigma of Dali Koumbé

It was God's will. Centuries ago, an ancestor of mine dreamt of an entity from another world. This entity announced that she would give birth to the most virtuous man, but without eyes. Since then, every descendant of hers has been born blind. We are embarking on a journey to the village of Dali Koumbé, a unique community where one in two people is blind. The mystery behind this condition is still unresolved, whether it's due to water or genetics. However, the community has managed to create a stable and unified society, and we want to understand what happiness means for them.

Our adventure begins in Nouakchott, the capital of Mauritania. Originally built as a temporary camp, Nouakchott experienced a demographic surge in the 1970s due to drought and desertification, forcing many to abandon their villages. Today, with 1.2 million citizens, the city is a crossroads of cultures, with nomadic Mauri, Wolof, fishermen, and populations from the country's interior regions.

We gathered supplies from a typical market in Nouakchott, preparing for our 1000-kilometer journey through the Sahel desert. As we left the city, the landscape quickly changed, giving way to vast dunes and the endless expanse of the desert. Our companions, Ali, a tireless Bedouin driver, and Bouh, our invaluable guide, prepared us for the numerous checkpoints we would encounter.

The journey was grueling, with temperatures soaring as we drove deeper into the desert. We encountered lively desert towns, bustling with trade and activity, and the largest camel market in Mauritania. Each camel bore symbols representing the tribes they came from, and we learned how to assess a good camel based on its youth, shape, and amount of fat.

As we ventured further, the isolation became palpable. We camped in the desert, our tents surrounded by the vast, silent wilderness. Our guides warned us of the dangers of traveling at night, and we heeded their advice, stopping to rest and take in the eerie beauty of our surroundings.

The next day, we continued our journey, passing through remote villages and encountering people who seemed astonished to see tourists. We met brickmakers who crafted each brick by hand, a laborious task that highlighted their resilience and resourcefulness.

As we approached Dali Koumbé, the uncertainty of its existence loomed over us. The village, located near the Mali border, was so remote that few had heard of it. The final leg of our journey was guided by a local who knew the unmarked paths leading to the village.

Upon arrival, we were greeted with cautious curiosity. The village elder, a blind man like many others in the community, explained the origins of their condition. The prophecy from centuries ago had led to a lineage where blindness was the norm. Despite this, the villagers had adapted remarkably, navigating their environment with an uncanny sense of direction and purpose.

The elder, who also served as the Imam, recounted his journey of learning the Quran by memorizing it, a testament to his dedication and faith. The community's happiness, he explained, stemmed from their acceptance of their condition and their deep sense of gratitude for life.

We spent the day in Dali Koumbé, observing how the villagers lived and interacted. The blind navigated their homes and the village with ease, guided by their familiarity with the terrain and their reliance on one another. Their faith and sense of community were evident in every aspect of their lives.

As the sun set, casting long shadows over the desert, we reflected on the resilience and strength of the people of Dali Koumbé. Their story is a powerful metaphor for existence, a testament to how inner strength and faith can overcome the absence of physical light. It was God's will, and in their acceptance, the villagers of Dali Koumbé had found their own unique path to happiness.