Remembering Mamadou Sow (Jimy)
By Maïmouna Kebe
Senegal — Last Saturday, members of ATD Fourth World met at regional headquarters in Dakar to discuss the theme of October 17, the World Day for Overcoming Poverty. This year, the Committee for October 17 proposes highlighting the aims of the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights in honor of the Declaration’s 70-year anniversary.
Asked “What makes me human?”, every response referred to respect for dignity.
During the discussions, I was looking directly opposite me at a painting with a background of bright colours — the red, yellow, and green of our flag. On the left, brown strokes of paint show the silhouette of a seated man; on the right, words are drawn in white, almost graffiti style. It says: “All of us, we are human beings. M. Sow”
I thought about this man whom we might have remembered only as a fading shadow, except that he taught us so profoundly about what makes us human that he continues to live in our hearts and minds: Mamadou Sow. We all called him Jimy. He was a man who lived in extreme poverty, a poverty so deep that it alienated him from his neighbours, a poverty that would not leave him in peace even in his solitude.
But at one time, he had had ambitions — simple ambitions like everyone else: getting married, having children, and having enough to provide for them. In order to achieve this, he had thought about emigrating to Europe. He left, and four years later came back with nothing, and so became a laughing stock for everyone.
In this situation, he would insult his neighbours. The tensions between him and the people around him prompted the owner of the house where he was squatting to ask him to leave. He found refuge for some time at the house Gestu and Xeex Ndool, which means “researching and working against poverty together”. It was a house for everyone, a house of peace where everyone who came felt respected. There, in our Fourth World House, a meeting place for members of ATD, Mamadou felt safe.
He was a sculptor with a talent for working with wood. He made small bracelets that he sold at the market. But from all this he earned little money, so little.
Afterwards he found another home, but it was as squalid as where he had lived before. Our team got together to help shore up the shelter, but it was frequently flooded.
That wasn’t the worst. What hurt Mamadou the most was the prejudice. Without knowing him, neighbours would judge him, make fun of him, and call him crazy. In his heart, anger stagnated like the water in his house and never dried up. It came out when he insulted people who humiliated him. There were always conflicts, always threats. He well knew that nobody respected him.
We — members of the ATD volunteer corps and young people working with us — went to visit Mamadou. Our visits intrigued his neighbours and, little by little, changed their view of him. He welcomed us into his small damp room, and this made him a person like anyone else. He was no longer completely isolated; there was solidarity. He could even go to certain neighbours’ houses to get drinking water.
This man, beaten down by poverty, was looking for his way through life, as do all human beings because we want to be recognised as human.
He suffered from the relationship he had with his neighbours; yet deep inside they all wanted peace.
The ATD volunteer corps members invited Mamadou to come to the courtyard of the Gestu house and make a sculpture of an object that symbolizes peace. Mamadou, who insulted his neighbours and scared their children, was there with them in the courtyard, sculpting wood, finding ways with them to make peace together.
After a quarrel, Mamadou would always look for a way to redeem himself, to become one person among the others again. He would say, as an indisputable truth full of wisdom: “All of us, we are human beings.” These words sounded like an appeal for the respect for the dignity of all people, and equally like a plea for unconditional pardon.
These are the words that a member of the ATD volunteer corps included in this painting of him. Mamadou’s words tell us the strength of this man beyond the violence of the poverty and isolation that oppressed him.
Having this painting at the regional headquarters of ATD Fourth World in Dakar helps Mamadou Sow, alias Jimy, not to be forgotten. It gives us the opportunity to talk about his life with all the people who pass through.
[This article was edited by Bruno Mazzolini.]
