'This is the bad bad time we are living here in the desert, here in Morocco.' - Youssef Boumia
- Razali
- Feb 13, 2021
- 3 min read
Updated: Mar 19, 2021
Youssef Boumia, 32 years old, lives in Morocco, near Erg Chebbi. He works as a tour guide.
I met Youssef in January 2020, thanks to the Morocco Desert Tour that I booked online from London. Youssef introduced our group of 3 childhood friends, 'London brothers' as he called us, to his Morocco, to his 'endz'. We kept in touch ever since.
Recently, he told me how life has been for him and his fellows who work in the tourism sector due to the pandemic.
‘Here it’s too bad for us because all of my city is working with tourists, now there are no tourists, there is nothing.'
'Everyone is sitting, sleeping all day, nothing to do. Everything people need that depended on tourists, now there are no tourists, people are selling things from their houses. It’s difficult.’
With unemployment levels rising around the world, and a million more projected to be unemployed in the UK by mid 2021 despite the extension of the furlough scheme, the outlook can be bleak for millions. It is a challenge to remain positive but Youssef always spoke with a tone and attitude of 'we can do it'. His life before Covid has always been one of daily resourcefulness and economy.
'The place where we are, has no water, so we have to take water from one place to another. We travel 2km to collect water.’ Youssef told me that this was water that was available all year, every day.
‘We collect water from the shop, and we can take it without money, as much as you want. 20 litres if you are alone can last you two days, but if there is someone with you then maybe 3 days, but it’s good.’
‘This is my friend. He is taking bottles of water. 3 bottles of 5 litres, and 2 of 10 litres. This is the same place where we take water. All of us.’
‘It’s like now. We are coming to take 30 litres. The big one is 20, the other one it’s 10 litres. We come to take it from here. This is the shop. This one. And we need to go this way, to take it home.
When Youssef told me how he has to travel regularly to collect water, and how much water he uses to survive, for all his needs, for hygiene, cooking, and making 'Moroccan Whiskey' aka mint tea, it made me think. It reminded me how easy it is to take for granted the convenience, security and peace of mind of having a tap with safe drinking water, in your home, at your fingertips.
Do I even know how much water I consumed today? How many litres? I have experienced water scarcity but always with the comfort of knowing it was temporary.
Pictures from Youssef's life in Erg Chebbi, Morocco
‘I am warming my feet a little bit before I go to bed. Tomorrow we need to get up early to go to drink water and to do somethings, because we are very far from the city', said Youssef.
This scene reminded me of the night my friends and I slept in a camp, just over a year ago, in Erg Chebbi of the Sahara desert. The night sky was adorned with a majestic splendour of constellations. In the freezing temperatures of the Saharan night, sitting around the flickering fire, hitting drums and singing with Berber brothers brought a primeval sense of present mindedness, a collective spirit that tied us together for a moment in time. If you listened carefully to the wind, you could hear the ancestral echoes of whispered secrets, that had traveled through the ages for a willing ear.
Blue skies overhead near Erg Chebbi
A local news report interviewing locals who describe the hardships they face
‘This is the bad bad time we are living here in the desert, here in Morocco. So bad, and the government will not give you nothing.’
With Morocco closing its borders to more countries in hope of preventing the spread of Covid and its new variants, and the UK having the world's highest death toll in recent weeks, each day that passes spells another day of difficulty in making a living for people like Youssef.
The optimist in me also believes that we are another day closer to having the worst of recent times in our rear view mirror. When that day arrives, what would we have done to prepare for it? How do we work together to bring about a system change that is sustainable, builds resilience and ensures that people and communities that are currently fully dependent on tourism, can withstand the shocks of tomorrow? What will we do? All of this 'got me thinking 'bout better days.'
Youssef hopes 'this situation will all finish quickly'. I do too.
*Updated with new pictures 25/2/21
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