9. THE POLICE OF TIMBUKTU

Two policemen in civilian clothes stormed into my hotel at nine, which was very early for the local police.

One of them knocked at my door like a madman but without saying, “Police, open the door!” the way they do in films. His failure to announce himself as a police officer initially led me to think that it was just a crazy person who was punching my door, so I did not hurry to get out of the shower to open.
This made him even more furious, judging by the increased rhythm of the punches on the door, but still he did not pronounce the magic words “Police, Open!” Later on, I asked him why they did not announce themselves, and he said: “If we say ‘Police,’ the people escape by the window.” Timbuktu seems to be like the Bronx!
I thought; when there is a place where everybody fears the police, either everyone is a criminal or the police are the criminals.

When at last I opened the door, I saw 2 young chaps whose eyes and behaviour effectively gave me the impression that they were insane. I thought “they are patients affected by the itching disease and they need urgent cures”. This disease actually drives people mad but I have a good remedy for it with the essential oils.
“I am just getting out of the shower”, I told them courteously, (with crazy people always be courteous), “You should come back later”.

The one who had been trying to knock down my door stuck a piece of coloured paper under my nose. “I am the Vice-Commissioner of Timbuktu. We came for a control.” “Well, let me dress, and I am at your service,” I replied. I brought them my passport, and the young Vice-Commissioner informed me that I had been anonymously denounced for illegal exercise of the medical profession.

I am incredulous: people from the neighbourhood have come to see me for just a week. I certainly couldn’t refuse to help those mothers of children in tears, those who have scabies with purulent sores, those who have migraines that make them blind, those old people who cannot sleep because of rheumatic pains …

What was I supposed to do? deny them? if I had told them to go to the hospital, they would have told me that they have already been there without success, or that they have no money to buy the medicines.

There are no free medicines here and my friends tell me that the prescriptions from the hospital doctors are too expensive. I met several mothers who told me that to treat their child’s cough, the hospital doctors prescribe six or seven different antibiotic syrups and the children are still sick and are no longer recovering.

These are all problems that I can resolve easily with my essences and my Chinese acupuncture needles. When I tell people to go to hospital, they either tell me that they have been there already without result, or that they do not have money to go. 

Medicine is very expensive in Timbuktu, for the local population generally live on $2 USD a day, and the doctors prescribe too many medications, perhaps to help their cousin pharmacist.

Some mothers showed me prescriptions with six or seven antibiotic coughing syrups for small children who were still chronically ill after the treatment. I took pictures of these, as it looked to me totally insane.

The wonderful effect of the essences and of the Chinese needles are like a miracle for these people. They come every day, more and more, and I cannot refuse to help them. How could I?

The incensed Deputy Commissioner of Tibuktu ransacked my room from top to bottom, and then took me to the police station under guard and left me there to wait five hours.
Then after all that time he let me return to the hotel with great kindness and a humanitarian spirit. Not without first having summoned Tahara who is hosting me in her hotel, and accusing her of having lent her premises to illegal medical practices and, finally, confiscating my passport, my needles and my essences.

I am a prisoner in Timbuktu, I cannot leave the city or the country. Like the famous French hostages in the Sahara.

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