Mauritania's Sahara Desert Home, Chinguetti, Faces Uncertain Future as Encroaching Sands Threaten Ancient Libraries
Seventy-seven-year-old Saif Islam carefully stroked his grey beard as he sat amidst the dusty courtyard of a library in Chinguetti, a small desert settlement in Mauritania. His traditional boubou gown striped in blue hues seemed out of place among the sand-dusted stones, yet its vibrant colors stood in stark contrast to the desolate landscape that loomed beyond.
"This city has been forgotten," Islam said, his eyes filled with a sense of urgency. "It's these books that gave it history, importance." His gaze drifted towards a 10th-century Qur'an, its pages worn and brown with age. The manuscript held secrets and knowledge from the medieval era, testifying to Chinguetti's rich cultural heritage.
The once-thriving town, nestled in the heart of the Sahara Desert, had been a vital stopping point for trans-Saharan trade caravans. Its libraries β some dating back to the 11th century β served as hubs for Islamic and scientific scholarship, earning it the nickname "the Sorbonne of the desert" or "Africa's spiritual capital."
However, the relentless march of the desert sands has threatened to bury this ancient treasure trove of knowledge. Residents have left, tourist numbers have plummeted, and many of the libraries now stand as empty shells, their manuscripts exposed to the elements.
Islam, who was born and raised in Chinguetti before returning to his hometown in 2015, is determined to save the town's heritage from disappearing forever. He works tirelessly to promote the Al Ahmed Mahmoud Library Foundation, one of only two libraries still open to the public.
"The tourist season is from September or sometimes December to March," Islam explained, gesturing towards a small air conditioner that struggled to combat the scorching Sahara sun. "Before, hundreds of tourists came daily. Now, it's barely 200 per season. After Covid, tourism dropped drastically. The insecurity in Mali affects Mauritania too."
Islam's efforts are bolstered by international collaborations, such as the Madrid-based nonprofit Terrachidia, which has helped restore several libraries using traditional building techniques and local materials.
"It was fantastic," said Mamen Moreno, a Spanish landscape architect who co-founded Terrachidia. "Some children had never been there before although they have always lived in Chinguetti."
Moreno's sentiments were echoed by Islam, who emphasized the importance of community involvement in preserving Chinguetti's heritage. "Cities, like houses, are preserved when they are inhabited," he said.
As the desert sands continue to creep into the town, Islam and his fellow residents must work together to save this ancient city from the brink of oblivion. The fate of Chinguetti hangs precariously in the balance, a poignant reminder that cultural heritage is not just a relic of the past but a living, breathing entity that requires constant care and attention.
Seventy-seven-year-old Saif Islam carefully stroked his grey beard as he sat amidst the dusty courtyard of a library in Chinguetti, a small desert settlement in Mauritania. His traditional boubou gown striped in blue hues seemed out of place among the sand-dusted stones, yet its vibrant colors stood in stark contrast to the desolate landscape that loomed beyond.
"This city has been forgotten," Islam said, his eyes filled with a sense of urgency. "It's these books that gave it history, importance." His gaze drifted towards a 10th-century Qur'an, its pages worn and brown with age. The manuscript held secrets and knowledge from the medieval era, testifying to Chinguetti's rich cultural heritage.
The once-thriving town, nestled in the heart of the Sahara Desert, had been a vital stopping point for trans-Saharan trade caravans. Its libraries β some dating back to the 11th century β served as hubs for Islamic and scientific scholarship, earning it the nickname "the Sorbonne of the desert" or "Africa's spiritual capital."
However, the relentless march of the desert sands has threatened to bury this ancient treasure trove of knowledge. Residents have left, tourist numbers have plummeted, and many of the libraries now stand as empty shells, their manuscripts exposed to the elements.
Islam, who was born and raised in Chinguetti before returning to his hometown in 2015, is determined to save the town's heritage from disappearing forever. He works tirelessly to promote the Al Ahmed Mahmoud Library Foundation, one of only two libraries still open to the public.
"The tourist season is from September or sometimes December to March," Islam explained, gesturing towards a small air conditioner that struggled to combat the scorching Sahara sun. "Before, hundreds of tourists came daily. Now, it's barely 200 per season. After Covid, tourism dropped drastically. The insecurity in Mali affects Mauritania too."
Islam's efforts are bolstered by international collaborations, such as the Madrid-based nonprofit Terrachidia, which has helped restore several libraries using traditional building techniques and local materials.
"It was fantastic," said Mamen Moreno, a Spanish landscape architect who co-founded Terrachidia. "Some children had never been there before although they have always lived in Chinguetti."
Moreno's sentiments were echoed by Islam, who emphasized the importance of community involvement in preserving Chinguetti's heritage. "Cities, like houses, are preserved when they are inhabited," he said.
As the desert sands continue to creep into the town, Islam and his fellow residents must work together to save this ancient city from the brink of oblivion. The fate of Chinguetti hangs precariously in the balance, a poignant reminder that cultural heritage is not just a relic of the past but a living, breathing entity that requires constant care and attention.