Evidentia

Oumoulkheir Mint Yarba, a female slave in the year 2010

Last week, the human rights organization SOS Esclaves interviewed a female slave in Mauritania (who fled servitude in February 2010), then sent me the interview. I have translated this direct testimony of a slave here for English-speaking readers.

“My name is Oumoulkheir Mint Yarba. My father’s name is Yarba. My mother is Selek’ha Mint Yarg. I was born around 1965 in Guelb Heboul which is in the Adrar region. My father is still alive. He spent many years under the masters Ehel Ahmed El Houda, a family of the Oulad Ammoni residing in Tiberguent near Akjoujt. Then he was transferred to the family of Ehel Kerkoub, of the Oulad Ghaylane tribe, for whom he is still working.

“My father married a slave of Ehel Kerkoub named Teslem; a daughter was born of this union who is apparently the mother of a child. The last time I saw my father, I was still very young.

“My mother is long dead, I never knew her. I don’t remember her.

“I have two brothers, one named M’Bareck Ould Mahmoud and the other Ben’Ich Ould Selek’ha. I am the mother of five children, three girls and two boys. The girls are called, respectively, Selek’ha Mint Oumoulkheîr, aged around fifteen, Mbarka Mint Oumoulkheîr, twelve years of age or so, and Fatma known as Kounadi Mint Oumoulkheîr, who is ten years old. As for the boys, they are: Yarba Ould Oumoulkheîr, aged five years and Ben’Ich, about a year and a half old.”

She was asked “where were you, Oumoulkheîr, when you began to understand what was happening?” She answered:

“I was with the Ehel Boulemsak of Smamna, part of the Oulad Ghaylane tribe. I was a slave for the family of Abdallahi Ould Boulemsak, and worked for his youngest son, Mohamed Ould Abdallahi. Our elder brother, Mahmoud Ould Mbareck one day showed me how my younger brother Ben’Ich and I became or rather were born slaves of the Ehel Boulemsak; he taught me that long before my birth, our mother Selek’ha Mint Yarg was the slave of Rajel Ould Aoueïneni who sold her to Abdallahi Ould Boulemsak, the father of Mohamed Ould Abdallahi. Our condition of slaves for the family can thus be traced back to a deed of sale.

“I have been the slave of this family since my birth; they educated me as well. From a young age I did the laundry, did errands, that is to say, r’soul, at the request of my masters, collected brushwood, prepared tea, watched over the growth of the animals, tied them and let them loose, pounded millet in the mortar and did all the cooking.

“When I grew up, I was responsible for keeping goats, sheep and camels. My job was to lead the animals to water for watering. In order to do that, I had to dig wells myself, and this was hard work. In return, I was forced, despite fatigue, to take care of all the drudgery of housework. When I finished, I began to milk the goats and camels. Each morning at dawn, I start the same activities and this does on until very late at night. My children and I ate leftovers rather than meals. Otherwise, we ate nothing. This is my life and the life of those dearest to me.

“The hardest thing I had to endure under the yoke of Mohamed Ould Abdallahi Ould Boulemsak and his family was to watch over the animals while I was pregnant. This task continued right up to the day I gave birth. I had to carry the little baby and guard the livestock as usual. I will never forget the day they took my little girl Oumoul Barka away from me, and forced me to abandon her in order to guard the herd. My child was one year old; she could barely scrawl along on all fours.

“For my masters, the priority that day was the herd, since some females were likely to give birth. I had to have my hands and back free in order to bring the newly born animals back. That evening, I found my daughter dead body in the sand, her eyes open, her body covered with ants. I asked for help in burying her, but met only with total silence and contempt. The family of my masters did not even deign to respond to the pleas of their mother, Fatma Mint Bouderbala, to help me with the grave. She finally came to me and ordered me to put the little body in a cloth and accompanied me to the cemetery. Once we got there, I dug the hole myself and buried my child. The only consolation I had, working for my masters, was my own tears. I cried a lot about my daughter and my own condition. The people around me did not seek to understand my state of confusion, but instead ordered me to keep quiet, otherwise they would make me suffer in ways I could never bear.”

When asked about the pay she received for her work, Oumoukheïr said that the slave receives no pay from his masters.

“I have no home, none at all. All I have in the way of shelter is a bunch of rags gathered together (‘Devya’). I had to make do with an old blanket and an old sheet, throughout the entire year.

“My masters never offered clothes, either to me or to my children. They only gave us their worn-out clothes. However, my children and I managed to receive some charity, particularly from neighbours. My masters sometimes bought us shoes, but never for my children. The poor darlings walked barefoot. My kids and I were beaten by Mohamed Ould Abdallahi, who never hesitated to kick me in front of them. He hit me with thorny branches. The scars can still be seen on my back.”

She was asked whether she or her children went to public or Coranic school. Oumoulkheïr shrugs her shoulders and says: “I do not recite ‘Al Fatiha’. Neither I nor my children have known any moments of leisure, we have never gone out to have fun. We know nothing other than work, that’s all.

“I’ve never married. When I received a first marriage proposal, I went to Boulemsak’s mother, and told her about it, but she suggested that my master would not allow me to get married and both the man proposing marriage and I would be beaten if they learned about it. I have never received any assistance from the State. Neither my children nor I have any official identification: I have never voted. This is my life with the Ehel Boulemsak.

“One day with the Ehel Boulemsak, a police car came to carry me off to Mboirick d’Ideghchemma in Yaghref, actually the little island known as Guediwar that belongs to Ain Ehel Taya, Moughataa of Atar, in the Adrar region.

“On this occasion, the Ehel Boulemsak gave me six goats which they had never done before: this came as a big surprise to me. Since my birth, I have never had anything of my own. The animals were only left with me on the arrival of police, along with a loincloth, a pot, two plates and a cushion. I realized later that this was all in order to conceal my true condition of slave. When I arrived, I met Vouyah Ould Mayouf, who told me that the ‘Akhouk El Hartani’ organization (your brother Hartani) had filed a complaint with the authorities, in my favor.

“My case was reported in 2007 at a time when there was a public awareness campaign in the Adrar about the law criminalizing slavery; at the meeting in Atar, a representative of SOS-Esclaves explained the situation of Oumoulkheïr; he was contradicted by local authorities and the police immediately dispatched officers on site to separate Oumoulkheir from her masters, the Ehel Boulemsak.

“One day, after spending about a month and ten days in Mboîrick d’Ideghchemma, my brother Ben’Ich, who was still exploited by the unrepentant Vouyah Ould Maayouf, visited me. He was accompanied by his master, a celebrated army officer. This latter man took me home. With the complicity of my brother, he turned me and my children into slaves again. I have endured more suffering under him than I ever had before. His exploitation did not involve just me. He also exploited my children who were reduced to slaves. I then started to keep and water the goats, camels and sheep for him, pounding the millet and preparing the meal. I did everything by hand. He hit me hard, much more than the Ehel Boulemsak family had done. Each time I did not perform a task, Vouyah molested me; sometimes, to terrorize me, he fired bullets over my head. One day, he even wanted to kill me as well. I owe my salvation to his sister, who saved me. She stood in between him and me, begging him in the name of God and His Prophet not to kill me. If I am still alive today it is thanks to this woman.

“One day Vouyah came to tell me that he was going to marry my daughter in order to be closer to me, to be able to shake my hand, thanks to this union. Some time later he came to tell me that my daughter Selek’ha had become his wife. Who performed the marriage, when and where? I did not receive her dowry, much less any paper certifying the union. He ordered me to make her beautiful, and to bring her to him in his tent “Gueïtoun.” The clothes my daughter wore that evening came from the charity of other neighbours. My daughter spent the night with him until morning and came to see me. That lasted until she got pregnant. It was then that his “legitimate” wife learned the news through Fatma known as Kounadi, the sister of Selek’ha. When questioned by the wife of Vouyah Ould Maayouf, Kounadi retorted that Selek’ha had spent the night with Vouyah. When he found out about this, he came to me and said that he was repudiating my daughter. This never actually happened, since he continued abusing her. When he learned that Selek’ha was pregnant, he wanted to marry her off to a shepherd called Youba, who was a slave of the Lech’yakh; so Vouyah wanted to get out of his role as father of the future child. However, Youba refused because he realized that Selek’ha was carrying an illegitimate child. Afterwards Vouyah began to scold us and insult us just because we were working badly …

“One day he called Selek’ha and me, and put us in a car driving at breakneck speed on a side road; we were subject to unimaginable shocks; this gave much discomfort to Selek’ha, as well as excruciating pain, made her sick, and resulted in a spontaneous abortion in the Atar hospital.

“Vouyah used me whenever he needed me and brought me back to the village to abandon me there when I was no longer useful. This is how he behaved with me. This time, on February 7th at night, when he came to me while I was in the field, I refused to go with him. Then he boarded my children in his car. The next day my brother Mahmoud Ould Mbareck called on people connected with SOS-Esclaves who came to see me and took me to the town hall of Ain Ehl Taya on February 9th. The mayor informed the Hakem of Moughataa Atar.

“The latter ordered the town to send me to the police station of Ras Tarf. Once  got there, the chief of police, Ahmed Ould Hamdinou, came to see me and sent away the people connected with SOS-Esclaves who had accompanied me. He asked me what I wanted and I told him I wanted my children and my goats. He objected: Vouyah is our superior and we can do nothing. He asked me what I wanted; I told him that I wanted my children and he asked me to go and plea with Vouyah, since I was from the Oulad Ghaylane tribe who are his uncles. If he answers in the affirmative, well and good, and if he doesn’t, come back to see us … We will take action. I said I do not dare visit him since I am afraid he will shoot me dead. The policeman offered me a car to take me back to the village. I refused to return for fear that Vouyah would not see me, and I preferred to go to Ain Ehl Taya instead. Finally, I was taken to Atar where the chief of police accompanied by Vouyah brought my children to me. The chief asked me what I wanted exactly. I replied that I want to take my children and my animals.

“The children were in the car but Vouyah prevented them from greeting my brother and me. The chief of police was going to bring them to me when we get in the car, but not my daughter Selek’ha whom Vouyah took in his vehicle. The police took us to Ain Taya Ehl where I remained until the arrival of my brother Mahmoud Ould Mbareck with whom I then departed for Nouakchott.

Nouakchott

“I came to Nouakchott on February 15th to demand my rights. I was informed me that my daughter Selek’ha had married without my knowledge. This marriage for me is null and void for several reasons: first, because it was performed without a legal guardian; second, because the girl is underage; and finally, because I have a right to know her husband is, and I have a right to agree or not to the marriage. This union took place, as I noted earlier, to conceal the actions of Vouyah Ould Maayouf. It is a forced marriage, contracted in accordance with the actions and interests of Vouyah Ould Maayouf and a form of intimidation.

“Today, I am filing a complaint against Mohamed Ould Abdallahi Ould Boulemsak, and claim compensation for the many years spent as a slave for his family, since my childhood.

“I am also filing a complaint against Vouyah Ould Maayouf and seek compensation for my children and myself, throughout two years and a half operating under duress without any remuneration. I am also seeking my animals and my daughter who are still in his possession. I ask all Mauritanians and good people on this earth to support me. I just want my share of justice and to live with my children, in freedom, and by the sweat of my brow.”

This interview and the statement were recorded by the president of SOS-Esclaves

Nouakchott, March 4th 2010

(Translated by George Tombs)