Mali's Historic City of Djenné Mourns Lack of Visitors

Kola Bah used to earn a living as a tour guide in Mali's historic city of Djenné, known for the sprawling mud-brick mosque that has been on the UNESCO World Heritage in Danger list since 2016.
The Grand Mosque of Djenné — the world’s largest mud-brick building — used to draw tens of thousands of tourists to central Mali every year. Now it's threatened by conflict between rebels, government forces and other groups.
Bah says his income was enough to support his family, which now numbers nine children, and to pay for a small herd of cattle. But these days, few visitors come to the city, and he has been largely out of work. When he needs cash, he sells some of his cattle.
Speaking to The Associated Press outside his home in Djenné's old town, Bah said locals believed the crisis would come to an end eventually, and that business would pick up as before.
“But the more time passed, the more this dream proved illusory,” he said. “Things are really difficult now.”
Djenné is one of the oldest towns in sub-Saharan Africa and served as a market center and an important link in the trans-Saharan gold trade. Almost 2,000 of its traditional houses still survive in the old town.
The Grand Mosque, built in 1907 on the site of an older mosque dating back to the 13th century, is re-plastered every year by local residents in a ritual that brings together the entire city. The towering, earth-colored structure requires a new layer of mud before the rainy season starts, or it would fall into disrepair.
Women are responsible for carrying water from the nearby river to mix with clay and rice hulls to make the mud used to plaster the mosque. Adding the new layer of mud is a job reserved for men. The joyful ritual is a source of pride for a city that has fallen on hard times, uniting people of all ages.
Bamouyi Trao Traoré, one of Djenné’s lead masons, says they work as a team from the very start. This year's replastering took place earlier this month.
“Each one of us goes to a certain spot to supervise,” he said. “This is how we do it until the whole thing is done. We organize ourselves, we supervise the younger ones.”
Mali’s conflict erupted following a coup in 2012 that created a power vacuum, allowing extremist groups to seize control of key northern cities. A French-led military operation pushed them out of the urban centers the following year, but the success was short-lived.
The extremists regrouped and launched relentless attacks on the Malian military, as well as the United Nations, French and regional forces in the country. The militants proclaimed allegiance to al-Qaida and the ISIS group.
Sidi Keita, the director of Mali’s national tourism agency in the capital of Bamako, says the drop in tourism was sharp following the violence.
“It was really a popular destination," he said, describing tens of thousands of visitors a year and adding that today, tourists are “virtually absent from Mali.”.
Despite being one of Africa’s top gold producers, Mali ranks among the least developed nations in the world, with almost half of its 22 million people living below the national poverty line. With the tourism industry all but gone, there are ever fewer means for Malians to make a living.
Anger and frustration over what many Malians call “the crisis” is rising. The country also saw two more coups since 2020, during a wave of political instability in West and Central Africa.
Col. Assimi Goita, who took charge in Mali after a second coup in 2021, expelled French forces the following year, and turned to Russia’s mercenary units for security assistance. He also ordered the UN to end its 10-year peacekeeping mission in Mali the following year.
Goita has promised to beat back the armed groups, but the UN and other analysts say the government is rapidly losing ground to militants. With Mali's dire economic situation getting worse, Goita's ruling junta ordered all political activities to stop last month, and the following day barred the media from reporting on political activities.
Moussa Moriba Diakité, head of Djenne’s cultural mission which strives to preserve the city’s heritage, said there are other challenges beyond security — including illegal excavations and trash disposal in the city.
The mission is trying to promote the message that security isn’t as bad as it seems, he said, and also get more young people involved in the replastering ritual, to help the new generation recognize its importance.
“It's not easy to get people to understand the benefits of preserving cultural heritage right away,” he said.

The Trevi Fountain, arguably the world’s most famous, has graced screens for decades, from Fellini’s “La Dolce Vita” to Netflix’s “Emily in Paris.” Each year, millions of visitors push through Rome's narrow streets to gaze at the towering Titan god flanked by falls cascading into a turquoise pool.

Yet, they never get to venture behind Oceanus’ back to see what produces the sublime play of water in the baroque masterpiece.

Wooden doors on an adjacent street lead to the maneuvering chambers that control the fountain's water supply, coming from the Aqua Virgo — an ancient Roman aqueduct 16 kilometers (10 miles) away. Two electric pumps recycle 126 liters (33 gallons) of water per second while Rome’s water management company, ACEA, carefully monitors the flow around the clock.

This precise amount is crucial for the movement of water through the statues; a little more or less, and it wouldn’t work, said Davide D’Alonzo, ACEA’s manager for the area.

The modern maneuvering chamber features metal tanks and lighted panels. In the original, arched chamber, water audibly rushes through a thick pipe and there is a functional, 18th-century hydrometer to gauge the fountain’s water level.

A large, rudimentary spreadsheet on the wall displays the names of rich Roman families whose homes received water from the chamber long ago; when they fell behind on their payments, their supply was cut off.

The chamber's grated windows grant views out over the fountain and its many visitors — all of whom are oblivious to its hidden waterworks. They toss coins over their shoulders into the water, a hopeful gesture based on a legend that it guarantees their return to the eternal city.

Mali's Historic City of Djenné Mourns Lack of Visitors