Yvette Salima Kouagou
[FRENCH]
"Je sais qu’un jour je serai une grande femme. Ça là, je le sais. Mon rêve c’est de pouvoir aider le plus dernière de chaque village à sortir de son ignorance, à comprendre la réalité de la vie. Je ne veux pas faire la politique, non. Mais dans le sociale, je rêve de pouvoir aider les plus dernières de Benin à sortir de l’ignorance et à être autonome. Être capable de se prendre la charge eux-mêmes. Je ne vois pas trop le changement mais avec le programme que suis en train de suivre présentement avec CRS, ce qu’on faire avec les producteurs d’anacardes et les villageois, je sais que ça va prendre."
[ENGLISH]
"I know that one day, I will be an important woman. That, I know. My dream is to be able to serve the least of each village to rise from their ignorance and understand the reality of life. I do not want to be in politics, no. However within society, I dream of being able to help the least of Benin to no longer be ignorant and to be independent. To be capable of taking charge themselves. I do not see a lot of change but with the program that I am currently participating in now with CRS (Catholic Relief Services), the work we do with cashew producers and villagers, I see that change will come."
I first met Yvette around a school garden of sprouting moringa trees and herbs. I was being pulled left and right by the children of the primary school who wanted to show me, the newcomer, their work in the garden. Yvette, along with my friend and former Volunteer, Stuart, had done the garden project together at one end of my village some months before my arrival. The way Yvette naturally got the children to listen and be engaged in the gardening lesson was the first time I saw that she truly was a gifted animatrice, community organizer. I soon reached out to her to help me with a malaria teaching to elementary students. More recently, she’s helped me establish a committee for Manigri’s first ever girls’ soccer team and organize a march for International Women’s Day. In the latter project, nervous about the two-week time crunch, I remember saying, “It might be too late to do anything…” to which she replied, “It’s not too late. We’re doing it.”
​
I often visit her at her boutique where she sells baby products and clothing, creams, and colorful tissu fabric. We brainstorm projects but really just hang out. I go to her house for dinner, her kids visit my house to color, we chat about life. She is a co-épouse meaning that she is one of two wives to her husband. His other wife lives in a city four hours away, living her own life with her own children. Yvette has invited me to prayer at her mosque during the Muslim holiday of Tabaski and I have taken a nap on her couch while she prays in the corner of her living room. She calls me ma copine and I call her la meilleure, because she really is the best.
Yvette works for an organization called Benin Cajù in partnership with Catholic Relief Services, focused on grassroots projects for producers and transformers. I’ve gotten to see her in action at one of her many savings and loans groups, helping them do their partage, the sharing of all the money they saved during the past year. I saw the way she joked with the participants she had gotten to know over that year who had likewise come to trust her as their village agent, but also communicate rules or bad news with respect and calm. I was exhausted by the end of the day and awed at the fact that she did this with numerous groups a week while also running a boutique, serving on committees at city hall, taking care of her kids, and somehow not only entertaining my ideas for developing Manigri but running with them.
​
She is an invaluable work partner and friend to me. I, too, know that one day, she will be une grande femme.
