Benin > Singing with the children in Moupemou

After a good breakfast, I walk into Natitingou. I am out of money and need to exchange some. For northern Benin, Natitingou is a fairly large town. Life mainly revolves around the wide main asphalt road. On both sides are small stalls, and the local market lies off to one side. At the roundabout in the center, there are two banks. In one of them, I exchange euros. To my surprise, I don’t even need my passport. I stroll through the market, browse the stalls, and look for a kind of supermarket. I stock up on drinks for tomorrow’s travel day. After lunch, we visit the National Museum of Natitingou.

Benin - Schoolchildren singing songs around our tents in Moupemou

The museum is housed in an old French colonial manor. Normally, it would be closed at this time, but it opens specially for us. The collection is limited, ranging from musical instruments and headgear to simple weapons. There is also a special room highlighting the town’s slave trade history. I particularly enjoy seeing the models of the various Tata homes of the different tribes. So far, we have mostly seen the Somba-Tatas. Afterwards, we drive south. After about half an hour, we turn right onto a bumpy dirt road. The bus must move slowly. This gives the children in the villages we pass plenty of opportunity to wave enthusiastically at us. I wave back cheerfully. Shortly after three o’clock, we arrive at the Public School of Moupemou. On the schoolyard, we set up our tent camp for the last time. As I put up my tent, over sixty children watch me. When I finish, many curious eyes look at me from a safe distance. Communication is difficult, but a simple tune is universal. Together with Gaby, we gesture for the children to sit down and clap along to a melody. They clap after us.

Benin - Despite their nomadic life the women dress beautifully not just for the photo

When we sing “Frère Jacques” in French, the children join in loudly with a completely different version of the lyrics. We try a game, but it is less successful—they don’t understand. The school principal takes over. With a tam-tam under her arm, she sings various songs with the children. It is delightful to watch. As dusk approaches, we say goodbye to the children and head by bus toward a nomadic Fulani village. At sunset, they usually return with their cattle to their simple homes. Unfortunately, today the cattle have not returned. Due to the drought, the nomads have moved further away in search of water and will stay there overnight. However, the village elder gives us permission to visit the nomadic settlement and take photos. The Fulani women are especially striking, dressed in brightly colored garments.