Harmattan, jihad and ebony curves

On the airport of Dar es Salaam, on way to Finland from Tanzania I realized that I had packed all my books (which would've all been on Zanzibar / Tanzania anyway, being books for my thesis) in the airplane cargo. Thus I browsed the bookshelves of several gift shops at the airport, wanting to find something new to read for my long journey. I picked up this book because of its unusual cover with a pink mud mosque, men with Kalashnikoves, a tank and the title: "The Lost Kingdoms of Africa - through Muslim Africa by truck, bus, boat and camel". It sounded interesting enough, and I purchased the over-priced book for 20 $.

The title of the book refers to the old, pre-colonial kingdoms especially in West Africa: Ghana, Songhai, Mali, Hausa...all those names we had to learn during the course on the History of Africa on my first year in the university. The author, Jeffrey Tayler, succeeds well enough in capturing the mood and mentality of the people while travelling from Chad through Nigeria, Niger and Mali to Senegal. A citation from the prologue: "Chad, Niger, Mali...lands of famine and drought, Islam and guerilla warfare; in short, sun-bleached, barbarous realms, where, for centuries, exotic kingdoms had flourished and eventually fallen to the sabers of invading Arabs and the guns of colonizing Europeans. (p.1)"

Luckily the whole book is not filled with such clichés, but also with hard facts, impressions, and discussions with local people (mostly men). He is traveling during the season of harmattan, a weird, dusty and hot wind (cold during the night) coming from Sahara. In southern Benin (photo below) it was not that strong, but I could already get a grasp what it can be at its worst: skin dries and turns white (on black people, too); dry, sandy air irritates the lungs and people are constantly sick & sneezing; the visibility is sometimes near zero, and sun is being obscurely shrouded by the harmattan wind. This season, typical only to West Africa, has therefore influenced heavily the grim picture Tayler paints on the Sahelian landscape -another edition of the book is actually called 'Angry Wind'. However, I have to admit that I recollect the same feeling as he does when reaching the Atlantic Ocean again on the Senegalese coast: finally air, humidity, sea breeze!


Tayler highlights on several occasions the damage Americans have done to themselves through politics and war, and he finishes the book with dark predictions on the rise of extreme Islamism in these poor, dry, famished regions. The journey situates in post 9/11 time, and the USA has declared a war against Isl...err, terrorism. Nevertheless, the people used to living under dictatorial regimes sympathise with the author: they understand that most of the time the citizens do not make the decisions, but the government does. One of the most touching dialogues is one between the author and a Chadian, Ahmad, who explains how they have lost their faith in America because of the undemocratic presidential elections: "But think of what it did to us, to those of us who cherished America as an ideal, as the hope for humanity...(p. 53)". Although the beginning and the end of the book are rather gloomy, he marvels at several occasions the warmth and hospitability of West Africans, despite his American-ness.

Besides wondering the welcoming manners of people, there is something Tayler does not leave un-noticed: topless women. Maybe it has something to do with my gender, but I began to feel increasingly irritated while reading recurrent comments on rounded breasts and hips, of sculpture-like shapes, as here while describing the view on the river Niger: "...two naked teenage girls, facing the river for privacy, stood knee-deep in the shallows, chattering and soaping their sculpted ebony shoulders and petite apple breasts..." (p. 206). Or a wondering comment on the beauty of the Songhai girls in Timbuktu: "How many exuberant teenage Songhai girls, unveiled, willow-waisted and swan-necked in sleek cotton gowns, had I seen since arrival? They proudly displayed their beauty. Their hair was straightened and long, or braided into cornrows and long, falling in robust, henna-tinted shocks over their often bare shoulders. (p. 222)" And so on and so on...basically the appearence of young women is in one way or another included in every chapter of the book. Then again, who am I to complain, having loads of photos of people I don't know personally, but which I felt like taking just because of their beauty, such as the lovely hair-dressings below.
Before opening the book I expected it to include plenty of stuff on the fundamentalist Islam, whereas in the actual text Tayler describes the ambivalence and humanity of the people and the travelling in general. Maybe the catchy cover texts are meant to lure people, who are interested in Islamism and terrorism, into reading this book. I for myself would prescribe it as an obligatory reading for all American high-schools, this "voyage into the hinterlands of the human soul" (as described in the back-cover text!). All in all, I found the book entertaining - I read one third on the way from Dar es Salaam to Helsinki and the rest bit by bit, in the evening before going to sleep. Some of the places I had visited and could compare my own memories with those of the author, some were still un-known to me. There are not that many travel books on West Africa, especially on the Sahelian region, and not that many people dare to venture there. It is arguably true that travelling in those regions requires time, money and most of all patience, but that it can be truly a unique experience. Because of these reasons, as much as I enjoyed my travels in West Africa, I would not do it again in the same length. This is why I prefer to grab a book and drown in nostalgia in my warm bed...

Tayler, Jeffrey (2006). The Lost Kingdoms of Africa. London: Abacus. 271 pages. Another review by a Peace Corps volunteer here.