Since 2012, roughly two-thirds of Mali’s territory has been gripped by armed conflict. In the country’s north and centre, landmines and improvised explosive devices (IEDs) spread mostly on roads by armed jihadist groups, posing a real danger to the safety of people living in the conflict zone. On its website in March 2022, the United Nations Mine Action Service (UNMAS) called it “a permanent threat to thousands of Malians”. According to the latest figures from UNMAS, 254 IED explosions were reported in the country in 2021. The blasts killed 103 people and injured 297 others, a quarter of whom were civilians.
Many of the survivors have been left without limbs as a result of the blasts. These Malians, who were on military duty or travelling by public transport, had their lives turned upside down in an instant. Once the shock of the accident has passed, the work of rehabilitation must begin.
In Bamako, the Centre Père Bernard Verspieren, a rehabilitation centre run by the Handicap & Réinsertion Mali (HRM) association, offers material and psychological support to victims of explosions. It receives funding from partner organisations including UNICEF and the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) among others. In July 2020, the centre initiated a new programme with the objective of providing around 25 landmine victims with custom-made prostheses every year. These prostheses – which cost an average of 175,000 CFA francs (€260), putting them out of reach of many Malians – are entirely paid for by the Fondation de France, one of HRM’s partners, and are manufactured on-site in dedicated workshops.
Oumar Coulibaly helps the centre to identify the wounded and organise their transport to Bamako. Still an active duty soldier, Oumar was himself the victim of an anti-tank mine in 2012, on the border between Mali and Niger. The only survivor of his team of 11 soldiers, he had to have his leg amputated at the tibia and now benefits from a prosthesis that allows him to continue working for the army administration and the centre. “I assure the victims that life goes on despite the handicap. I lost my leg, but I have my health, a job. Things are going well,” he explains. He tries to give renewed hope to the injured, the prospect of finally returning to a normal life after what can be months of inactivity.
Arouna Traoré, 34 ans, est originaire de la région de Tombouctou. Il effectuait une mission au sein de l’armée malienne lorsque son véhicule a roulé sur une mine, en 2017. Il a perdu la quasi-totalité de sa jambe droite.
Despite his severe amputation, Arouna Traoré had been living without a prosthesis since his accident, mainly due to a lack of information : “I didn’t know what steps to take or how to obtain financial support. It was too expensive for me,” he explains. In January 2022, the Centre Père Bernard Verspieren took over his case. “I’m happy to finally find a way out of this impasse.”
Dans la salle de rééducation du centre « Père Bernard Verspieren », Arouna s’exerce à la marche avec son nouvel appareil. Il lui faudra plusieurs séances pour appréhender sa prothèse.
“This is a new life that’s beginning for me,” said the soldier, following his most recent walking training. After overcoming the difficulties of unfolding his new knee, Arouna is now able to move around on his own, without the help of crutches. His disability may ultimately become invisible to others.
Arouna s’est installé dans la maison de son frère à Kati, en périphérie de Bamako, le temps de son suivi par le centre de rééducation.
Although he continues to receive his salary, the accident put an end to Arouna’s activities with the army. Before receiving his prosthetic leg, he walked with the help of a cane but his movements were severely limited. “I stayed home most of the time. Before becoming disabled, I was a very active person. Suddenly I found myself unable to do anything. Naturally, I was discouraged and depressed,” he says. Thanks to his prosthesis, Arouna hopes to be able to return to the army. “Combat is over for me but I can help in other ways. It’s my calling.”
Moulage, conception, finitions… Les prothèses sont directement fabriquées au centre par une équipe d’orthoprothésistes.
Treatment at the centre takes less than two months, during which time patients see a number of different specialists, including traumatologists, physiotherapists and psychologists. In addition to physical injuries, accidents can often result in psychological trauma. “Some patients are anxious, stressed or even depressed,” says psychologist Salif Timbiné. “There is also a lot of work to be done on accepting the disability. It entails helping patients to understand that their lives are not over, that they can lead normal lives and reintegrate into society. The challenge is to make the situation less unbearable and to restore hope.”
Dramane Diakité est un ancien militaire de 68 ans. Blessé en novembre 2021, alors qu’il guidait des soldats à Tombouctou, il a été amputé au niveau du genou. L’homme vit aujourd’hui chez sa fille à Fana, dans l’attente de sa prothèse.
“This accident ruined my life. Everything is difficult now : getting up, moving around, going to bed.” Since his amputation, Dramane Diakité has suffered from both a lack of autonomy as well as from sleep disorders. “The people who died in the accident come to see me in my dreams. They ask me why I’m alive and they’re not.” He has high hopes for his future prosthesis.
C’est le jour de la prise des mesures pour Assa Kabara, blessée par l’explosion d’une mine alors qu’elle se rendait en bus vers la capitale. Depuis son accident en janvier 2021, cette femme de ménage ne peut plus exercer. « Je reste tout le temps à la maison à ne rien faire. »
Assa Kabara was hit by a landmine not far from her home in Gao while on a bus heading to Bamako. Only ten of the 30 passengers survived. “Everyone I know is afraid of hitting a mine whenever they travel. It can happen to anyone, at any time.” But her disability has not dampened her optimism : “Healing is also in the mind. If it’s not right morally, you won’t make it. God did this, so it’s going to be okay.” Today, she is looking forward to getting her life back on track.
Arouna et Arnaud Azouma (à droite), kinésithérapeute. Si le professionnel a choisi cette voie, c’est avant tout pour son rôle social : « J’aime ce contact avec les gens. Je suis ici pour améliorer leur qualité de vie. Les victimes de mines ont subi un gros choc. Je les rebooste et les motive. » Une remise en selle nécessaire pour affronter la suite.
In Mali, few people with disabilities are entitled to social assistance from the state. Workers who suddenly find themselves unable to carry out their professions can claim a disability pension, as is the case for military personnel. Those like Assa, who work informal odd jobs, are often left without resources.
According to Handicap International’s website : “People with disabilities are excluded and often victims of discrimination or prejudice ; they represent the largest minority in the country. They have little or no access to healthcare, education, social services or employment. A very small proportion of children with disabilities attend school. In times of crisis, poor people find themselves in a situation of increased vulnerability.”
