Second day

It’s the end of my second day working with Moussa. We’ve been weaving traditional bee houses all day, us cutting the necessary tall grass, him climbing the Roniers to get leaves for material and me blistering my thumbs until late in the evening weaving at a third his pace. It is ten, time to get a rest.

At the end of November, the agricultural season is slowing down a bit. The maïs has been harvested and is drying in the sun. Moussa’s father, Mr. Sanogo, spends his days harvesting the groundnuts and peas, allowing his only son still at home to spend more time weaving. Moussa is thirty years old, and as I can’t help to think how close in age we both are, just a few months, and yet our lives are so different, with neither of us having chosen it. Moussa is the only son in age of working the family’s plot in the rainy season. His father asked him to stop school when he was 10 to come work in the fields. His mom had passed away and it was necessary to ensure there would be enough cereal to go through the year. Until last year Moussa was able to cultivate one and a half hectare by hand with his daba, producing enough cereal to feed the whole family on a good year. This year’s investment in a bull for labour drastically changed the deal, saving tons of time and allowing cultivating larger fields. He lends his bull to his neighbour, who in turn helps him weed his fields, as he could not do it alone on such a large surface.

Honey making has been a traditional activity for the Sanogo family since before Moussa’s father. The honey is used for the family’s consumption, as a medicine, an energy booster and a celebration gift at Lo, when young men have to offer honey to their promised wives. Moussa wants to make beekeeping a business. He has already invested in four modern, wood-built houses that produce more honey and are more durable. Each are 22,500 FCFA, a small fortune really. He knows that the more traditional houses he weaves this year, the more he will be able to invest in the next season’s harvest. He thought of micro credits but one has to repay those on a monthly basis, and the harvest is yearly for honey. Hence he will weave one or two houses a day for forty days, from 5:30 am until 10 pm. Moussa works with a flashlight secured between his neck and his shoulder after 6pm. Once the houses are ready, he secures them in trees, where they can stay for three to four years before they deteriorate. There is always a competition between squirrels and bees and whoever gets to the house first gets to stay. As a consequence, a great part of his work benefits rodents, not him. Moussa has a fleet of sixty houses approximately, producing a hundred and thirty litres every year. He knows it means education for his daughter in a few years, provided his business takes off.