On the calm waters of Lake Guiers, Diokhor Island thrives on agricultural abundance and vital shortages. This village of more than 2,000 inhabitants, proud of its potato production and livestock, nevertheless struggles daily to access drinking water and decent healthcare. Between resourcefulness, solidarity, and hope for public support, the islanders proudly face a daily life filled with countless challenges.

Not the most famous, but the largest in Senegal. Located in the north of the country, Lake Guiers has a surface area of nearly 300 km². It constitutes the largest freshwater reserve in the country. A true aquatic umbilical cord, it irrigates the Saint-Louis region as well as part of the Louga region and contributes significantly to agriculture, livestock farming, and the supply of drinking water. At the heart of this body of water, a landmass stands out. Welcome to Dund Dialagne. Nestled more than 300 km from Dakar, this lake island is made up of the villages of Tiéckène, Dialang, and Diokhor Takk. Recently, two other hamlets have emerged: Keur Baydi and Gaya. Of all these villages, Diokhor Takk is the most famous. Better known as Diokhor Island, this village is made up of a population of more than 2,000 individuals, one of the largest in the rural community of Ngnith located in the Dagana department. In 2021, the inhabitants of this town entrusted its reins to Samba Gueye, whom everyone here affectionately calls "Bathie." A village chief unlike any other. In addition to his community responsibilities, he teaches mathematics at the Ngnith high school. This son of the land knows every corner of this village, whose history he is about to tell us. "There are two Diokhor: Kaw and Takk," he explains. "Before, our ancestors were fishermen, herders, and farmers. During the rainy season, the cultivable parts are flooded, and they were forced to move to the other Diokhor, called Kaw, to cultivate there." After this season, they will return when the water recedes to resume their activities here in Diokhor Takk. Over the years, some have decided to stay there and others here. But they are the same families. Before, we had the same village chief and the same football team. But that has changed and each village has become autonomous.

Looking for arable land in the surrounding villages

On Diokhor Takk, activities are varied. Surrounded by a lake, fishing is common. But given the scarcity of fish resources, largely caused by overfishing, this activity is not carried out for commercial purposes. The fish caught are eaten for meals or dinner by families. But on Diokhor Island, people are farmers first and foremost, and proud of it. For the overwhelming majority of villagers, agriculture is a natural activity and everyone's business. Like here, where men, women, teenagers, and children harvest cassava.

To ensure a good water supply for crops, the inhabitants have set up an irrigation system. These hand-dug waterways fill up from Lake Guiers thanks to two motor pumps entirely financed by the islanders. Faced with a shortage of arable land on the island, many farmers are forced to turn to the surrounding communes and towns. Mbanga Pene is one example. His family figures prominently among the island's agricultural success stories. Every day in the early morning, the forty-year-old man prepares his pickup truck for a long journey. He has to go to Nder, a village located more than 7 kilometers from his home. Although the distance is short, the condition of the road, marked by a heavy presence of sand, prolongs the journey. Once there, there is a buzz of activity. Several men and women arrive at the first light of dawn and work on the assembly line. They come from neighboring towns to grow potatoes on the Pene family's field, which covers more than 4 hectares. Mamadi Pene explains in more detail the reasons for their presence there: "There isn't enough arable land on the island, which is why we come to Nder. Some go to Mbane, federation, and Ndar. Most of the fields you'll see here are managed by people from Diokhor."

Food self-sufficiency: a project far from being a utopia for the Diokhorois

The work is done in two shifts during the day for wages specific to each profile. The laborers, paid 2,500 francs per half-day, work in sync to pull the potatoes from the ground. The tubers are picked and sorted by the women who perform this task for a sum of 2,000 francs. The best potatoes are then grouped together and taken to the packers, who receive a sum of 5,000 francs. The ready-made, lined-up bags are transported at 500 francs each by donkey or horse carts to the road, where trucks will take over to supply the markets of Dakar, Touba, and even Mauritania. Faced with an ever-increasing demand for agricultural products, Mbanga Pene hopes to expand his scope of action with the support of public authorities. "If in the future we learn that the State is opening a canal, we will go there to try to get a few hectares of arable land." Because what we currently have is insufficient because the market is exponential. And the costs are enormous between salaries, diesel, fertilizers and field rental. Once the potatoes are harvested, we will immediately plant something else. I cannot afford to stay without farming, it is my only source of income,” says the farmer.

Every six to seven months, this field produces more than 20,000 bags of potatoes, resold at prices ranging from 14,000 to 15,000 CFA francs each. Under a blazing sun and despite the arduous nature of the work, the farm workers, mostly day laborers, find a significant source of income here. It's a grueling job, but profitable on their scale. Sitting on the ground and surrounded by a pile of potatoes, Mother Coumba works hard to remove roots and unwanted parts from the potatoes. "I come from very far away every day to work here. The work is exhausting, but it allows me to support myself," she says.

Of all Senegal's timeless ambitions, food self-sufficiency undoubtedly stands at the top of the pyramid. For the farmers of Diokhor Takk, this dream is far from utopian. An achievable ambition provided certain prerequisites are met. "It will be very easy," argues Mbanga Pene. "If the state makes more land available to us, we will be able to feed the entire country and even export."

Back on the island. In these places, crops are so abundant that even the animals benefit. It's rare to walk through this village and not come across cattle and sheep farms. Their diet consists mainly of dried potato leaves that can be found piled up everywhere and sometimes harvest leftovers. "We feed them mainly with the fruits of our harvests, which gives them this imposing build that you can see."

The quest for drinking water, a daily struggle

In this village, the inhabitants are predominantly Muslim and followers of the Tidjane brotherhood, and more specifically of the "Moutarchidina wal Moustarchidaty" movement founded by Serigne Mouhammadoul Moustapha Sy Al Maktoum. Apart from sporting activities dominated by football, the islanders' other means of entertainment remains religious events. "There is practically no entertainment in Diokhor Takk. Sometimes, we organize religious concerts and that's it."

The village square, dedicated to religious events, also serves as a gathering point for water collection. In Dound Dialagne, only this village and Keur Baydi each have a standpipe. For the islanders of Diokhor Takk, the quest for the precious potable liquid begins at 4 a.m., continues throughout the day, and often ends very late at night. To reduce waiting times, the public pump consists of three taps connected by pipes. Suffice it to say, to be served, one must be patient. One family is finally rewarded after several hours of waiting. Using their donkey cart, they transport their water supply to their home. An annoying and exhausting daily routine. "Generally, it's the women who take care of this chore in addition to going to the fields," says Youssouf, sitting on an empty 20-liter container next to his mother. "What we've just drawn is insufficient, we'll have to go back to replenish our reserves. And it's not easy with all the people waiting there, sometimes until 2 a.m.," he adds.

Faced with an ever-increasing demand for water, the supply remains stagnant to the point of becoming insufficient. In an attempt to fill the gap, villagers are turning to Lake Guiers. While thousands of Dakar residents drink the beverage from this natural basin daily without fear, more than 2,000 islanders must make do with drawing it directly, in its raw state. Surrounded by typha, an invasive plant that carries diseases, the place dedicated to collecting water also serves as a laundry and washing point for animals. The latter, visibly at ease, do not hesitate to relieve themselves there when the need arises. A closer look reveals tadpoles moving about in this water of dubious color.

Lake Guiers: Dakar's watering hole, the torture of the Diokhorois

But that's not enough to discourage some villagers, especially children who flock there for a dip when the heat is overwhelming. After the pleasant, it's time to get back to the useful. This liquid, collected in 20-liter containers, helps the islanders with their household chores. And sometimes it's consumed as a last resort. It's with anger that's palpable from miles away that Oumy Gueye tells us about their ordeal: "We add a disinfectant and bleach to this water and let the debris settle at the bottom of the container. After that, we can drink it. But we mainly use it for cleaning and laundry."

So close to water, yet so far from potable water. These are the words that could describe the paradox of Diokhor Island. The situation is even more astonishing when you consider the presence, just over 2 kilometers away, of the Ngnith water plant, which was commissioned in 1971. This plant, managed by the Société Nationale des Eaux du Sénégal (Senegal National Water Company), is responsible for drawing, treating, and transporting water from Lake Guiers to homes in Dakar and the surrounding area.

Not far from this watering hole, an abandoned water tower stands. Donated by a Senegalese-Moroccan NGO, the infrastructure was erected in 2004. This mini-water treatment plant, which suggested better days, broke down two years later. From 2006 to the present day, it has been nothing more than a useful relic for preserving livestock feed and a reminder of fleeting happiness. Samba Gueye reflects on the village's fight for better access to drinking water: "Since I moved here in 2023, I have initiated procedures to connect the village. I was able to obtain a quote from Sen'Eau for 15,329,838 CFA francs. Then, we sent a letter to SONES asking them to cover this bill, in part or in full, as part of their social program."

Even after decanting and disinfection, drinking water from Lake Guiers is not without health consequences. Bilharzia is a tropical disease that is still prevalent on an island where the lack of treatment is more harmful than the disease itself, as complications related to the lack of appropriate care aggravate even the simplest cases.

Medical care: the other headache for islanders

In this village of more than 2,000 inhabitants, there is only one abandoned health center. The modest building is managed by a community health worker. Today, she is treating a woman who injured her finger while working in the fields. "I only treat minor cases. For serious cases, I have to refer them to Ngnith," explains Soukeye Gueye, the facility's manager. "We need water, electricity, and a machine to perform ultrasounds."

As in many parts of the country, the lack of adequate medical infrastructure has dramatic consequences for residents, but even more so for women. And the worst has often happened. Gamou will never forget the day she gave birth. "I went to a health facility in Ngnith, but I was told to return to my village to give birth. It was in the health center with Soukeye Gueye that I was able to have my child. And since then, nothing has changed. We lack everything," she says.

Basic needs scarce but dignity in abundance

Faced with all these difficulties, the islanders refuse to remain mere spectators. When the state's arms no longer carry, those of the community take over. An example is the village's public lighting, which is entirely self-financed thanks to money from the land. The numerous streetlights, which illuminate the village at nightfall, were acquired entirely by the islanders at a cost of 60,000 CFA francs each.

In this village, even the trees tell stories. In the heart of the village stands a century-old baobab tree, as imposing as it is laden with symbolism. Rumor has it that any elected official who dared lay eyes on it would be defeated in the next election. A deeply rooted legend, one that no candidate takes lightly. On Diokhor Island, isolation does not erase ingenuity, much less dignity. The islanders cultivate the land as one cultivates hope, with patience and courage. In the face of shortcomings, the community pulls together and keeps life going. As the sun slowly sets over the calm waters of the lake, another day draws to a close. The village prepares to face another night with the same expectation. That of a fairer future, worthy of the silent efforts of these forgotten people within.

Moustapha TOUMBOU (Report), Abdoulaye SAMB (Images) and Pape BA (Driver)