M. le Maire de la Commune de Maga

I was collected in Maroua by the mayor of the Maga local council and my future boss. He is a very imposing person and the girls fall for him in a big way. He is turning out to be very personable, popular, enlightened and progressive and I expect that he will make me work very hard since he has great ambitions for his locality. It consists of three small towns and their environs with a total population of 100,000. They are on the shores of Lake Maga which stretches for 25 kilometers from Guirvidig in the west through Maga to Pouss in the east. Pouss is on the Cameroon side of the Logone river and Chad is on the other side. Happily the nearest bridge is 200 kilometers away but bandits still cross by boat and have caused some deaths in towns north and south of Pouss, but not in Pouss as yet.

The journey to Maga was difficult. I met the mayor in the morning and he said that he would return shortly to collect me when he had met his wife. He has three wives and three houses, one of which is in Maga. Unfortunately he could not track down his Maroua wife until late and it was getting dark as we left. He has the rare luxury in these parts of a 4X4 jeep and a driver who always goes around in it with him and hangs around wherever he is. On a subsequent trip the mayor carried a rifle which he explained was because he was visiting some areas in the bush where bandits kidnap, rob and murder rich merchants. He comes from a warrior tribe, the Mousgoum, he has a short fuse and I certainly would not take issue with him when he has his rifle at hand! On my first trip from Maroua to Maga, after I was installed together with my luggage, and feeling squashed since there was already a lot of clutter in the jeep, three women, two children and all their clutter were somehow piled into the area behind the back seat. I think they were neighbours for whom he was doing a favour but I am not sure since although men are introduced meticulously, women are generally ignored.

The first 30 kilometers of the road were incredibly bad and the trip from Ngaoundere to Maroua paled into insignificance when compared to this (I was to find on a return trip to Maroua that they had “resurfaced” the road with earth, which is fine now since we are still in the dry season…). Happily there was extremely little traffic on the road since the area is extremely poor. After 30 kilometers the road suddenly assumed a very good surface (like an Irish road, but I am told that the rainy season will wash parts of it away). This lasted for another 30 kilometers. When I asked why this part of the road, and not the 30 kilometers nearer Maroua, was properly surfaced I was told that prior to resurfacing it was by far the worst part of the road. At this stage we stopped for Muslim prayers. We then continued on a bad road for about 15 kilometers to Guirvidig. Here we called into the mayor’s second house. After removing my shoes I sat in a very big room with sofas on every side and a big carpet on the floor. The mayor had told me that he had 13 children and I counted seating space for himself, the three wives and all the children (but this may be spurious since they usually sit on the floor). He opened a bottle of whiskey (which I expect was a huge honour, and probably rather risqué on his part) and poured me a large tumbler full. I had eaten nothing in 10 hours and politely took a few sips and explained as best I could that it couldn’t be taken in such quantities. We then continued the further 12 kilometers to Maga where he invited me to dine with him at his Maga house. This was on a carpet in the open-air and consisted of fish deliciously cooked. He also had the thoughtfulness to send his jeep around for me the next morning and bring me for breakfast (again fish) since there were no provisions in my house.