PETIT BERGER: A FILM BY SAÏDOU DICKO (2011)

I became a shepherd when I was four years old because I had a goal; my goal was to see the end of the earth, the place where the earth and the sky meet, and go there to touch the sky as I could not reach up to it.

 

On the first day, at sunrise, with my little stick, my flock ahead of me and the sun behind me, off I went to discover the end of the horizon.

Once out of the village the flock slowed down and separated to graze on the grass. My hopes were slowing down along with my flock because my goal had been to reach the horizon before the sun went down.

The sun caught up with us and at noon the animals started looking for the shade of trees for their afternoon nap.

The sun overtook us by the end of our nap and we started to advance ever so slowly. Discouragement began growing within me.

The sun lay down next to us behind the hill. It was time to go home and I thought that tomorrow my goal would be reached behind the hill.

We started on our way back, as we had to get home before nightfall. We covered on foot an equivalent distance to Dakar-Goree.

 

On the second day, I got up earlier than the day before to go beyond the hill. Once we had got there I saw a vast clearing and at the end of this clearing was a small forest. Now, my new aim was to go beyond the forest.

 

On the third day, I reached the small forest. It was a river surrounded by trees. I quickly crossed it and once again here I was in front of a clearing with an infinite look and at the end of it, I could see the tips of hills.

 

The more the days went by, the more I faced obstacles and the more my aims were before me.

 

One day, in the middle of a clearing with an infinite look, I gazed back and realized the same distance was behind me. Great was my disappointment. I had just realised I could never touch the great blue calabash.

 

Having swallowed my defeat, joy came back because I had just understood I had found the answer to my question by myself: One cannot touch the sky.

I also understood that what you learn by yourself is unforgettable.

I also understood that my curiosity was helping me find answers to my thoughts.

I also understood that every step you gain going forward is one you lose behind because you have to give the steps back to go home.

I also understood that going the furthest the fastest way possible caused me to miss many things.

I also understood that what you learn by yourself remains forever.

After having understood all that, I decided to be life's pupil and nature's schoolboy.

 

There I was, all set for a fresh start as a real little shepherd.

 

Every day I would set off in the same direction but never on the same path.

I spent my days climbing trees, going up hills, walking on the sea waves flooded by sand dunes. I was walking on water-soaked by a sun raining fifty degrees. My thirst was perfectly quenched with my flask full of cold air standing before streams of sun rain, but suddenly I was thirsty having emptied my flask in a river with an ochred drink.

The day continued with the sun that turned bushes into black trees which were a welcome shelter from daylight at thirty-five degrees. The black trees grew very fast in absorbing the light.

 

The sun blushed because he lost his light to the shadow. Great victory of the shadow which wipes away the sun. The shadow grows and my sight diminishes, at twelve degrees the heat is being felt.

It is time to ask nature for hospitality, for a few bundles of sticks to make a flame, to shelter from twelve degrees heat.

Nature has been generous. I am sitting by the flame; it is time to call both my troops. I have called the first troop: the goats, they are all there and are approaching individually. I have called the second troop: the sheep, they also are all there and are approaching as a group.

Here we are around the flame for a bleating rehearsal. We sing until sleep comes.

I am sorry, I will not be able to describe sleep, as every time it comes I sleep - and when I wake up it is gone. Sleep came by without warning, as usual.

 

I woke up in the middle of a clearing as big as infinity. I spent the night in the shade of the moon under a tree in the middle of an ocean.

I was woken up in the morning by the noise of a flock of ants. A Harmattan night in the Sahel, around a flame; bundles of sticks surrounded by a choir and a group of Koranic schoolchildren who bleat with a firework of stars; a moon competing with our flame, and the sun waking us up early in the morning, at 10; because sleep came late after the 4:30 prayer.