OUAGADOUGOU, Burkina Faso — The nation is currently facing a severe humanitarian crisis, with over 2.1 million people displaced due to violence from either Islamic extremists or government-aligned forces. Instances of brutality have caused entire communities to flee their homes in search of safety, food, and basic shelter. This ongoing turmoil has lasted for several years and has significantly destabilized the West African country.
Unlike other regions, the displaced individuals in Burkina Faso are perceived as a direct challenge to the military junta that seized power two years ago with promises of restoring stability. Their plight runs contrary to the junta’s public narrative, which asserts a reduction in violence and a safe environment for returnees. In the capital city of Ouagadougou, where violence is less prevalent, these displaced individuals experience not relief but fear, often pushed into the shadows, relying on begging to survive, as they remain excluded from government support.
Despite the lack of official displacement shelters in Ouagadougou, estimates of those seeking refuge in the city are unclear. Authorities only recognized around 30,000 displaced individuals last year, whereas aid organizations believe the numbers are significantly greater. As the violence intensifies—particularly in the more remote northern and eastern regions—those suffering from hunger and disease continue to arrive in the capital. An aid worker likened the situation of these individuals to a “ticking bomb,” signaling impending crises due to inadequate support.
In a series of interviews conducted with displaced individuals, a disturbing pattern emerged. One 27-year-old cattle trader from Djibo, a city heavily besieged by armed factions, told how he faced violence from government forces that target civilians from the Fulani ethnic group, often labeling them as extremists. He shared harrowing experiences of unnecessary arrests, beatings, and the humiliation faced by his uncle, who had received aid from a charity associated with extremist groups. The trader described a traumatic experience of being injured during a military operation, illustrating the brutal environment that forced him to leave his home after being advised by his father that staying could lead to death.
A 28-year-old mother, also from a conflict-ridden area, recounted the tragic loss of her husband during a market attack by armed militants. Grabbing her children and some cooking supplies, she fled for her life, eventually settling for a time in her husband’s family home. However, instability returned, forcing her to seek safety in Ouagadougou, where she encountered discrimination and lost a promised job simply due to her ethnic background. Secured in a shelter for displaced women, she expressed her longing for her village yet recognized the urgency of waiting out the violence before returning.
Life in the capital embodies an odd duality. While reports indicate that around 80% of Burkina Faso is under the control of extremist groups and violence has surged, Ouagadougou appears vibrant. Open-air markets and restaurants bustle with activity, and there have been recent cultural events that mask the underlying instability. Despite the façade of normalcy, the population lives under a cloud of fear established by a regime that has suppressed free speech. In this environment, even discussing politics has become a risky endeavor with allegations of repression against those who dare to challenge the status quo.
The government has remained unresponsive to inquiries regarding the treatment and status of displaced individuals. As more people continue to flee violence, the overarching question remains: how long can this dual existence—of public celebration in Ouagadougou juxtaposed against an unseen crisis of displacement—sustain itself without precipitating further humanitarian disaster?
