I remember that when I was in my third year of study (agricultural engineering), the agricultural practice teacher had the idea of carrying out a reforestation project in an area close to the new faculty building.

At the time, the theme of ecology was fashionable, but it wasn’t given much priority or importance, so when the activity was carried out, many of us did it reluctantly, as if we were obliged to conform to the subject, in addition to the fact that each student had to dig three holes measuring around 40 x 40 cm and 60 cm deep, to break up the compaction of the soil. The task was tiring because we didn’t have enough tools and the morning was very hot, so the activity was carried out amidst jokes and laughter, but when the seedlings arrived and they started to distribute them, I remember that the situation changed, we all wanted the best and most beautiful seedling to show off.

Recently, we’ve been able to get in touch with some of our university mates and we’ve started exchanging memories and photos. A colleague, who is now a lecturer at the university, sent me a photo of a side view of one of the faculty buildings where the plant biotechnology laboratory was located, where we had carried out our academic placements in preparation for our theses. The image was far from the memory I had of this place, more than 20 years had passed and this meadow had been transformed into a magnificent grove of trees. I thought it was the trees that we had planted on that academic day, that had grown and transformed this landscape, I asked my colleague if it was true what I thought, she said yes, the truth was something comforting that filled me with joy, to think that maybe one of the trees that I had to plant is part of this beautiful postcard.

I hope that one day I’ll be able to visit my university to remember my years of study and also to be able to look closely at these trees, thinking of the ones I planted. 

What we had under our arms before, we have to move to get it!

I remember when we were young and single, the traditional healers in our villages had access to medicinal plants just around the village or 200 metres away at the most. The women also found trees like shea, néré, rônier and other important trees close to the village where they could pick the fruit and transform it into oil, soap and other consumer products. But now you have to travel dozens or even hundreds of kilometres to find some of these species, and others have completely disappeared from our area. They are often replaced by shrubs that are common on the edge of the Sahara, in the Sahel. We are deeply concerned by these changes and feel powerless to resolve them.

My name is Mwanahawa, and this is where my family and I lived until last week, when we were hit by a flood. It was around 4 o’clock in the morning that we found ourselves flooded, not knowing what had happened or how to get out. Fortunately, the fire brigade rescue team had already arrived and helped us out of the house. As soon as we got out of the building, the house collapsed and the floods swept everything away. In the blink of an eye, my family became a family of beggars. I’m grateful to my neighbours who, despite being victims like me, were able to provide me with clothes and a place to lay my body while I thought about how and where to start.

Since I moved into my own house, my mother and I have been walking my dog on the banks of the Rivière des Prairies in Montreal. In winter, we’re used to walking him on the river, because it’s frozen over for several metres and the layer of ice is solid enough for us to walk on it without worry. This year, Quebec has experienced a winter with record warmth in the months that are usually the coldest. Because of climate change, the El Niño current is out of whack, and that’s affecting winter in Quebec. We haven’t had snow or temperatures below 0 degrees on a regular basis, as we do every year. This is the first winter we haven’t been able to walk my dog on the ice by the river because it never froze.