
Name: Helmi Maria
I am Helmi Maria Holzheuer
At the moment I am living in Niamey - Niger but I am calling Australia home.
I work as a free lance travel writer.
A man and his Pongo
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a new home in niamey
a taste of sharia law
africa
african fish eagle
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aid and development
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back to bedlam
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bird-watching
bird identification challenge
bird songs of europe
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bomb blast in karachi
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but im nowhere near being over p
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of birds and bondage
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ramazan
red-billed firefinch - amarante
relais de kanazi
reminiscences and a song in the
ruzisi national park
spur-winged lapwing
survival skills
tabaski
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the fine art of doing nothing
the magic of a royal show
the man-eating crocodile
the nursery
the sands of time flow slowly in
the village on kanazi island
the villages on the niger river
things you never knew existed
thoughts around the year of the
tout pour la femme et lenfant
tout pour la femme et les enfant
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when disaster struck
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visited *loading* times
Are you an easy target for a sob story? My husband is, alas, very much so. He is Allah’s gift to our employees and all sorts of beggars and destitute in the streets of
I couldn’t help but wonder why our driver Ibrahim had to borrow more than half his monthly income in advance to buy a ram to celebrate Tabaski – “la fete du mouton” – as it is known all over Muslim West Africa.
“A couple of days after the feast he won’t have any money left to feed his wife and five children. What about rent, electricity or school fees.” Why won’t a leg of mutton be enough to celebrate? I tried to argue against the advance.
There was no point, of course, in refusing the advance for such an important day in the Muslim calendar. A male goat has to be slaughtered to mark Tabaski, the ancient Muslim festival commemorating Abraham, the biblical figure revered in the Islamic world.
“In this ignorant and backward society, if you want to prove your social standing, you owe to extended family and friends a lavish feast as an insurance against times of unemployment,” argues my German friend Ernst Zippel too.
So, the money was spent on one of those white and shampooed rams that had been brought into the city by numerous Peulh herders. Then the beast was fattened on bean straw and hay. This set Ibrahim back another 2000 CFCA, not to mention the extra expenses such as the professional sharpening of the knife for the ritual slaughtering of the beast, oil and spices, millet and rice, fire wood and sharpened sticks for crucifying and smoking the meat before the real feast began last night .
No doubt, the extended family had their fill of meat last night and some to spare for the poorer neighbours who couldn’t afford such extravagance.
*The word Tabaski, according to Professor Raymond Mauny originates from the Berber language, which in turn confirms the closeness to
Another theory implies that Tabaski comes form the latin “pasqua, or the Hebrew word “pesakh”.

Quite common are groups of starlings flying along the river and occassionally resting in the acacia trees below the terrace of our hotel. They are not that easy to catch and quite shy. I love their irisdescent dark-purple blue feathers and their creamy-white eyes help a lot to get a sharp picture.

I arrive at ten o’clock and the sun is already intense and unforgivingly hot. The place is bustling with activity. A long chain of youngsters, most of them barefoot, torn clothes stiff with sweat and dust, are hauling the heavy produce from the boat and pass them on to their mates next in line, throwing and catching them until they reach their destination, a neat pile of exactly one hundred pumpkins.
Wandering through the busy multitude of sweating humanity, I am taking pictures: young boys with skinny arms and legs carrying pumpkins on their heads, middle men of the pumpkin trade dressed in voluminous garments befitting Harry Potter’s Headmaster Dumbledore; women covered in Islamic dress bartering goods in the shade of mahogany trees, naked children taking a dip in the river, a young lad taking a rest on top of a pumpkin pile, sucking on a piece of sugar cane.
“Une pose, une pose”, calls out a smiling urchin while lugging a heavy pumpkin on his shoulder, no doubt expecting a ‘*cadeau’ for the pose.
“The traders must be bringing thousands of pumpkins here to
“Each boy gets 500 FCA (~1$) for carrying a hundred pumpkins onto waiting the open-back trucks”, says Ibrahim Hassane, a lanky man in a dark blue uniform who has been watching my activities for a while. “I am the local representative of the River Transport Union”, he says, and hands me his business card. I am also a “*guide piroguier” and organise Hippo Tours, Madame,”
“Some of the boys are very young, no more than ten years old”, I say. Shouldn’t they rather be in school?” He pauses for a moment and then answers: You know, Madame, every family has a lot of children here in
The gardener in me can’t help but notice that some of the giant pumpkins must weigh between 25 and 75 (34kg) pounds. “These giants would be wonderful for jack-o-lanterns,” I muse, and feel vaguely uneasy by this train of thoughts. Of course, none of these poor people here in
“It’s a pity though”; I think on my way home, “that the flesh of this variety tends to be pale and insipid. I can’t imagine using these fruits for my favourite pumpkin recipes.”
In my experience better pumpkins could be grown if only the farmers utilized seeds of superior varieties. In fact,
*cadeau = bakschisch
*guide piroguier = boat tour tourist guide
The fire finches are fairly common birds in Niamey. They arrive in small flocks or pairs and search for small seeds on the lawns of the hotel. The male of course, is a lot more flamboyant with lots more red feathers. But I thought this female is very pretty in her own right. Right?
Pretty exciting this morning at breakfast time to catch this swift little hunter. It is Gabar Goshawk.