On Talibés and Almajirai

The talibés in Senegal and almajirai (plural of almajiri) in Nigeria are remarkably similar. Both groups consist of young boys sent away from their rural families to live in urban residential Islamic schools, where traditional practices have increasingly devolved into systemic street begging and child exploitation.

Both are rooted in traditional Islamic boarding systems—called daaras in Senegal and tsangaya or almajiri schools in Northern Nigeria—where students focus intensely on memorising the Quran under a religious teacher (maramu or mallam).

Parents typically send their young sons (often starting at age 4 to 7) away from impoverished countryside villages to major cities, trusting they will receive a pious religious upbringing. Rather than being fully provided for by their teachers or communities, many of these children are mandated to spend hours each day roaming the streets to meet daily quotas for money or food.

International bodies and NGOs classify the systemic neglect, lack of formal secular education, malnutrition, and forced labour surrounding both groups as severe child protection and welfare crises.

The systems of both the Talibés in Senegal and the Almajirai in Nigeria began as highly respected, community-supported networks for higher Islamic education. Over centuries, economic pressures, colonisation, and rapid urbanisation transformed them from prestigious academic traditions into the marginalised systems seen today.

The Almajiri System in Nigeria, Pre-Colonial Prestige: The word almajiri comes from the Arabic al-Muhajirun, meaning "the emigrant." It historically referred to students who travelled to gain knowledge. In the pre-colonial Kanem-Bornu Empire and Sokoto Caliphate, these schools were elite institutions. They produced the region’s judges, clerks, and scholars. The traditional schools (tsangaya) were heavily subsidised by the ruling emirs, wealthy patrons, and the local community through zakat (charitable giving). Students did not need to beg because the community willingly fed and clothed them as a religious duty.

The British Disruption: In 1904, the British colonial administration conquered Northern Nigeria. They abolished state funding for Islamic schools and refused to recognise them legally. At the same time, they introduced a Western-style secular school system that required fees, which most poor Muslim families rejected. Deprived of state financial support, teachers (mallams) and their students lost their livelihoods. To survive, schools migrated to urban commercial centres, and students were forced to work or beg for food and charity, transforming a system of prestigious scholarship into a survival mechanism.

The Talibé System in Senegal, Pre-Colonial Integration: In Senegal, traditional Islamic schools (daaras) were deeply integrated into rural agrarian societies. Young boys (talibés, from the Arabic talib, meaning "student") studied the Quran under a religious teacher (marabout). Historically, talibés did not beg for money on city streets. Instead, they worked alongside their marabout on communal agricultural land, growing food to feed the school. This labour was viewed as character-building, teaching the boys humility, discipline, and the value of hard work.

The French colonial administration in Senegal marginalised traditional daaras, choosing to fund and promote French secular schools instead. This isolated the Islamic schools economically, restricting them to rural areas. During the 1970s and 1980s, severe droughts devastated West African agriculture, making rural farming unsustainable. Desperate marabouts moved their daaras into large cities like Dakar to survive. Lacking land to farm and unable to afford city life, the teachers adapted the traditional labour model, sending children onto urban streets to beg for daily cash and food quotas.

Equivalent systems and student populations are found in Niger, Chad, Mali, Burkina Faso, Benin, Togo, Ghana, and Côte d'Ivoire.

While colonial education policies are a major historical catalyst, they are not the sole ultimate cause for the widespread street begging associated with almajirai (in Nigeria) and talibés (in Senegal/West Africa). Widespread rural poverty leads many families to send children away to daaras or tsangaya schools because they cannot afford to feed them at home. In addition, secular post-colonial governments often failed to integrate or properly regulate traditional religious schools, leaving a legal vacuum where abusive teachers can exploit children for economic gain. What was historically a minor or non-systemic practice of enduring hardship or seeking alms has morphed in urban environments into commercialised, forced begging managed by exploitative networks.

Both Senegal and Nigeria have introduced several legal reforms, modern curriculum integrations, and bans on street begging to address these crises. However, enforcing these laws remains incredibly difficult due to political pressure, deep-rooted cultural traditions, and severe enforcement gaps. In Nigeria particularly, the federal government launched major initiatives to build "Model Islamic Schools" (Tsangaya schools). These schools fuse traditional Quranic memorisation with basic English, mathematics, and vocational training, funded by the state, to eliminate the financial need for begging. But neither government has the budget or infrastructure to house, feed, and formally educate the millions of children who rely on these systems for shelter. Also, many rural, conservative parents still distrust state-run secular schools, viewing them as elite institutions that do not teach moral values.

In Northern Nigeria, the almajiri system is deeply scrutinised as a critical national security concern. Security analysts and organisations like the International Centre for Counter-Terrorism (ICCT) highlight how the system functions as a vulnerability pipeline. With an estimated 30 million out-of-school and almajiri children in Nigeria, violent non-state actors like Boko Haram, ISWAP (Islamic State West Africa Province), and northern bandit groups look to these children as prime recruitment pools.

While the system itself does not inherently teach violent extremism, it produces hundreds of thousands of boys who grow up experiencing severe poverty, isolation, and a lack of parental love or state support. When they outgrow the schools, they often have no secular education, no literacy, or job skills, leaving them economically desperate and susceptible to the financial and ideological promises of insurgent groups.

Also, because almajiri children are highly visible begging on city streets, they face intense societal stigmatisation, sometimes being pejoratively labelled by the public as "urchins" or future criminals. This social exclusion deepens their detachment from the state, making anti-government insurgent narratives more appealing.

Ref: https://icct.nl/publication/exploring-youth-radicalisation-within-almajiri-system-northern-nigeria

Talibés beg in Senegal's St Louis's main market. The boys can spend up to 10 hours on the streets in search of food and money, with severe beatings awaiting some. Photo by Pete Pattison/The Guardian

Grok said this

According to Grok: The X post shares a personal blog entry reflecting on the author's solo 1992 trip to Rio de Janeiro, capturing the thrill of first-time experiences like flying across the Atlantic from Nigeria and navigating a non-English-speaking city amid Carnival preparations.

It emphasises Afro-Atlantic cultural connections, such as Yoruba religious influences in Brazilian Candomblé and the mesmerising Capoeira performances, blending historical slave trade legacies with vibrant street life in favelas and beaches like Copacabana.

The narrative highlights transformative encounters, including an impromptu friendship with a local capoeirista despite language barriers, evoking lasting nostalgia and a sense of leaving "a part of me behind" in Rio after two frenetic weeks.

Grok once more

 What Grok said:

"Anengiyefa's post promotes part 3 of a personal blog series on a September 2025 road trip through Botswana, focusing on a brief stay at Flame of Africa lodge with river fishing outings and wildlife sightings like elephants and hippos.

The entry critiques commercial safari tourism, emphasizing a traditional African ethic of respecting wildlife from afar—observing without intrusion—over entertainment-driven encounters, informed by the author's reflections on ancestral perspectives, underscoring its niche appeal as introspective travel writing rather than broad social media fare."

On the Mangroves of the Niger Delta

Key Facts About the Niger Delta Mangroves

It covers roughly 6,000 to 7,000 square kilometers (around 60% of Nigeria's total mangrove areas). It is the single largest mangrove ecosystem on the African continent. It is heavily impacted by decades of industrial logging, invasive species, and extensive oil and gas spills.

The flora of the Niger Delta is dominated by red, white, and black mangrove trees, alongside the invasive Nypa palm, while its wildlife includes specialised species such as mudskippers, West African manatees, Sclater's guenons, and fiddler crabs.

There are many environmental threats to the mangrove forests in the Niger Delta.

Oil extraction is the largest threat to Nigeria's mangrove forests. The oil-rich Niger Delta produces up to two million barrels of crude oil a day, which has placed Nigeria as the 9th oil producing country in the world. Such extensive oil extraction has come at great environmental and social cost. Nigeria's Federal Ministry of Environment has estimated that since 1958, 13 million barrels of oil have been spilled during extraction processes. 

Activities such as oil drilling, spillage, dredging of canals, and the construction of housing for oil workers pose substantial threats to the survival and effective functioning of the mangrove ecosystem. Oil spills and leakages have inflicted significant damage on Nigeria's mangrove areas, affecting not only the mangroves themselves but also the fishing economy and overall water quality.

Another threat to the mangroves is infrastructure development. This stands as a primary factor driving mangrove deforestation in the Niger Delta region of Nigeria. In recent times, particularly with the establishment of the Niger Delta Development Commission (NDDC) after extensive years of advocating against the marginalisation of this region (where Nigeria's primary crude oil reserves are located), endeavours to enhance infrastructure have been initiated. However, these initiatives occasionally lead to mangrove destruction. Land reclamation for residential and public infrastructure construction represents a significant danger to the mangrove ecosystem. 

Massive fish farming operations constitute a different significant factor contributing to the deforestation and degradation of mangroves in the region. An illustrative instance is evident in Buguma, Rivers State, where ONIDA, an Israeli company, engages in extensive fish farming. The establishment of this fish farm, boasting over forty ponds, resulted in the devastation and filling of a substantial area of the mangrove forest, crucial for the livelihoods of the local population. The primary motivation for situating the farm near the mangrove is to ensure a consistent supply of brackish (salty) water necessary for cultivating the targeted fish species, particularly the Barramundi, which is cultivated and imported from Australia. However, the overall contributions of such endeavours to the rural economy, considering the importation of nearly all farm necessities, including fish feed from Israel or Australia, raise significant questions.  

Nypa fruticans (Nipa palm) – an invasive alien species, is another major threat to the mangrove ecosystem in the Niger Delta. The species, which was introduced in Nigeria for the control of riverbank erosion has become a big menace to the mangrove ecosystem. The deforestation and degradation of the mangroves for firewood gathering, the construction of navigational canals, villages, and the activities of oil companies, encourage their replacement by this fast colonizer (Nypa fruticans) which does not provide the enormous ecological services provided by mangroves.

Also, improper waste disposal is an additional contributor to mangrove degradation in the Niger Delta. Instances of constructing public toilets that discharge waste directly into the mangroves and disposing of waste in their vicinity have become prevalent in the area.

As with most problems Nigeria currently faces, inadequate foresight planning and the country's large and ever increasing population rank as major contributing factors. 

The Niger Delta region is my ancestral homeland.

 

Nypa fruticans, commonly known as the nipa palm

The species is native to the Andaman Islands, Australia (Northern Territory and Queensland), Bangladesh, Bismarck Archipelago, Indonesia, Cambodia, Caroline Islands, China (Hainan), India, Java, Lesser Sunda Islands, Malaysia, Moluccas, Myanmar, Nansei-shoto, New Guinea, Nicobar Islands, Philippines, Solomon Islands, Sri Lanka, Sulawesi, Sumatra, Thailand and Vietnam where it lives, sinking its roots in the mud, in mainly brackish waters along the coasts, lagoons and estuaries, flooded by sea water only for a short time, not surviving if permanently submerged. By the beginning of the 20th century, it has been introduced in Nigeria where it has rapidly diffused up to Cameroon becoming an invasive species and in some cases a pest.

Rio de Janeiro 2

Rio de Janeiro is one of the most spectacular cities in the world, certainly THE most spectacular city I've ever been to, and the one with the most dramatic landscapes. Visiting this city is one of those unforgettable memories that remain with you forever. Especially for me, because it was my first ever independent foreign trip, one that I did all by myself as a youngster in my 20's then; having to navigate the language barrier, then react and adapt to the new and the unfamiliar. The experience was thrilling in the extreme, and is probably from where my curiosity and love for adventure were born.

This mountain is the Corcovado, and the large sculpture on top of the mountain is known as Cristo Redentor, or Christ the Redeemer. It took nine years to complete, between 1922 - 1931. It is an Art Deco-style sculpture, of Jesus Christ with open arms in a cross shape, 38 metres (124ft) high, which is equivalent to a 13-storey building. The total weight of the statue is approximately 1145 tons, of which 30 tons correspond only the head. It is huge. 

The hands and head are the only parts of Christ the Redeemer that weren’t built in Brazil. They were shaped in Paris. The statue’s body is made entirely of soapstone, cut into triangles, glued by hand in a fabric and applied in the structure made of reinforced concrete. The monument is made to withstand winds of up to 250 km per hour. 

I actually walked up to the foot of this sculpture, and took the obligatory tourist photos. The views of the city from the viewing platform at the foot of the statue are breathtaking. I reached the top of  the mountain by taxi, there's a road that winds its way up the mountain, although the last few hundred feet of the climb must be completed by foot. This, even if one had arrived at the top of the mountain by way of the funicular train, the alternative and more popular method of reaching this mountain top. 

My taxi driver took me up there, waited for me, and brought me back down. Then he charged the hell out of me, I was after all a foreign tourist who spoke English. But I didn't mind paying for what seemed to me like a once in a lifetime experience. Also, the driver had a living to make, so..

This statue is one of the New 7 Wonders of the World.

Things I Feel Strongly About: Garba 2

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