Self-realization at a premium, just eat your cheb

This school improvement project debacle is affecting me more than I realized.

Lunch at a teacher’s house today yielded an interesting discussion turned into political venting became a realization of futility. Over bissap juice, her husband railed furiously against Mauritanian political lethargy and the hesitation of his own people to rise against corruption, be it inflation of household goods in the market, election fraud and bribery, or the local embezzlement of school improvement funds.

As of late, it’s an issue close to my pay stub, if not my heart, so I asked what seemed obvious: what can we do?

I expected him to provide a solution like organized unions, parent teacher associations, town hall meetings, or even picket lines. He was so articulate about the deficiencies of Mauritanian bureaucracy; surely he had thought critically about alternatives.

His response: Nothing. There’s nothing we can do, not me, not us, not them, not you. What a sadness, he said.

And then, after disempowering every pronoun available to him, he washed his hands and ate his fish and rice. Washed his hands indeed.

Swallowing back tears and chebugen was too much for my fragile stomach. I asked again what seemed obvious: what, then, am I doing here? Between handfuls, he mumbled, “I don’t know. What a sadness.”

I am not entirely defeated. He had mentioned, amid his pessimistic predictions, several PTAs (or Mauritanian equivalents) in the south who, decades ago, had successfully raised funds to build entire schools. Between three schools in Atar, I could rustle up eight hundred parents who could surely afford 500UM each. This would more than replace the funds so disingenuously pledged by the Mayor.

And, hope of all hopes, when I tell the parents how the Mayor reneged, they might gather what little political prowess and concern they have and exercise it. The Mayor is elected and must be reelected to stay. Although beyond any number of inshallahs, I imagine Atarois rising to seize and shape their political and educational future. Or, at the very least, build some latrines for their kids.