A Pond in Warming Mali Is Disappearing, and a UNESCO-Listed Fishing Tradition Is in Danger 

People gather to fish during the Sanké mon collective fishing rite in San, Sego Region on June 6, 2024. (AFP)
People gather to fish during the Sanké mon collective fishing rite in San, Sego Region on June 6, 2024. (AFP)
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A Pond in Warming Mali Is Disappearing, and a UNESCO-Listed Fishing Tradition Is in Danger 

People gather to fish during the Sanké mon collective fishing rite in San, Sego Region on June 6, 2024. (AFP)
People gather to fish during the Sanké mon collective fishing rite in San, Sego Region on June 6, 2024. (AFP)

Thousands of fishermen holding cone-shaped nets stood side by side, cheering and chanting as they waited for the signal. Suddenly, they rushed to a large muddy pond and cast their nets, dropping to their knees in the mud. Soon, one proudly held up a fish the length of his arm.

For several hundred years, people have gathered in the southern Mali town of San for Sanké mon, a collective fishing rite in June that begins with animal sacrifices and offerings to the water spirits of Sanké pond. The rite, with masked dancers and traditional costumes, is on UNESCO’s list of intangible cultural heritage.

The marathon session of collective fishing celebrates the town's founding and marks the beginning of the rainy season. But climate change and heat waves are disturbing the tradition.

Sanké pond is starting to disappear, said a village chief, Mamadou Lamine Traoré.

Heat waves in Mali in recent years have caused the pond to start drying out. Temperatures in the town have reached a record this year at 48.5 degrees Celsius (119 degrees Fahrenheit), Emmanuel Doumbia, a local weather observer, told The Associated Press.

The unprecedented heat wave in Mali this year has also led to a surge in deaths. The heat wave began in March as many in the Muslim-majority country observed the Islamic holy month of Ramadan with dawn-to-dusk fasting.

The Red Cross Red Crescent Climate Center said that insufficient data in Mali makes it impossible to know the number of heat-related deaths, but estimated that the toll this year has likely been in the hundreds, if not thousands.

An analysis published in April by the World Weather Attribution — an international team of scientists looking at how human-induced climate change impacts extreme weather — said the latest heat wave in the Sahel, a region south of the Sahara that suffers from periodic droughts, is more than just a record-breaker.

Climate change has made maximum temperatures in Burkina Faso and Mali hotter by 1.5 degrees Celsius (2.7 degrees Fahrenheit), the researchers said.

Experts have warned of more scorching weather ahead.

At the latest Sanké mon collective fishing rite, men sweated as they stripped skinny chickens bare and cooked them over reeds, and dancers in sporty knee socks or plastic sandals adjusted armbands adorned with cowrie shells. A national flag waved limply on a weathered pole along the trampled shore.

“This tradition was already established before I was born,” said one participant, Amadou Coulibaly, who remains faithful to it despite the growing challenges.

When the rite was added to the UNESCO list in 2009, there were plans to dig deeper into the pond to prevent it from silting up, Traoré said. “But since then, nothing was done and the pond is starting to create problems." It wasn't clear why no action was taken.

The pond's disappearance would threaten not just the centuries-old rite but also the town's economic survival if attention fades, he said.



Comoros’ Prized Muslim Headgear Undercut by Chinese Copies 

Muslim men talk to each other after performing the Friday prayer at the Badjanani Mosque in Moroni, on January 12, 2024. (AFP)
Muslim men talk to each other after performing the Friday prayer at the Badjanani Mosque in Moroni, on January 12, 2024. (AFP)
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Comoros’ Prized Muslim Headgear Undercut by Chinese Copies 

Muslim men talk to each other after performing the Friday prayer at the Badjanani Mosque in Moroni, on January 12, 2024. (AFP)
Muslim men talk to each other after performing the Friday prayer at the Badjanani Mosque in Moroni, on January 12, 2024. (AFP)

In the markets of the Comoros, the hand-embroidered kofia that is essential headwear for men and boys at Eid celebrations this month is facing fierce competition from much cheaper Chinese versions.

The authentic kofia -- which often feature delicately embroidered Arabic calligraphy in silk thread -- can cost up to 400 euros ($432) each.

A "made in China" version goes for about 12 euros -- and even that is negotiable, vendor Hassanati Idjabou tells a customer at the bustling Volovolo market in Moroni, capital of the Muslim-majority archipelago of 870,000 people.

"The main attraction is the price," admits the customer, Said Mohamed, a plumber who is shopping for kofia for his two sons ahead of Eid at the end of the month.

"Handmade kofia are more beautiful but they are excessively expensive, especially for carefree children who don't appreciate their value," he says, walking away with his purchase.

The average salary in these Indian Ocean islands is below 200 euros a month but nearly half the population is on the poverty line, living on just over 100 euros a month, according to national statistics.

Three years ago, Idjabou's stand was raided by police combating forgery. "I was arrested for several hours by the national police and my stock of kofia was confiscated for a few days," the frail vendor says.

But today the policemen patrolling a few meters from her stall are indifferent to the counterfeit products.

Idjabou does not think the cheaper versions she sells will undercut the future of the authentic version so cherished on these islands and nearby countries.

"Traditional kofia will not disappear for one simple reason: no one would dream of sending a counterfeit kofia to a man about to marry their daughter," she says.

Another advantage of the Chinese version: they are unlikely to get stolen, says Mohamed Ali Mgomri, who also owns one. "Nobody's going to want to steal something that costs 15 euros," he says.

- 'Killing our craft' -

In the Comoros, kofia are only worn by males but almost exclusively embroidered by women in work that is slow and painstaking.

In the seaside town of Mitsamiouli, 40 kilometers (25 miles) from Moroni, long-time kofia creator Chifayi Mwasi opens the heavy, ornate door of her house at the entrance of the medina.

"They're killing our craft," says Mwasi, who is in her seventies and has been sewing kofia since she was 11 years old.

"They take photos of our models and go to China to produce them in industrial quantities," she says.

In the middle of the living room is an antiquated black-and-gold sewing machine.

"It's over 50 years old, it is hardy," laughs Mwasi. Her right foot, resting on a cushion, gently presses the pedal in a regular rhythm.

"Electric sewing machines are far too fast for crafting a kofia," she says. Mwasi designs the patterns that are later embroidered on to the kofia by other women, such as Maissara Mhadjou.

"Making a kofia takes me at least two months and I am paid 150 euros ($162)," says Mhadjou, whose swollen fingers run over and over an intricate stitch.

"Our heritage won't just disappear," she says. "Chinese kofia aren't ugly, but they're no match for hand-embroidered ones."

But anthropologist Abderemane Wadjih, who is wearing a handmade version on his head, believes "the Chinese invasion represents a cultural threat" to an item that is precious to the Comoros identity.

The Comoros has to nurture the age-old mother to daughter transfer of the art and craft of creating kofia while also considering how to make more affordable versions, says the government's director of culture, Wahida Hassani.

"We have to do our utmost to ensure that this transmission continues, whether through formal or non-formal education," she says. "Preventing the Chinese from proliferating the kofia -- that is not one of my abilities."