Jan 29, 2026
After more than 12 hours of intense activity at FAR, marked by strong mobilization and a constant flow of people in the courtyard and maternelle classrooms, 401 women, men, and young people went from being undocumented to obtaining their National Identity Card (DNI). What may seem obvious in many countries is not the case in Burkina Faso, where one in three inhabitants lacks formal identification.
This post does not feature the personal story of any woman or child benefiting from our projects, as is often the case in my post, and perhaps for that reason you may find it less emotional. But it speaks of one of those many activities we carry out that do not change a single, specific life and yet have an enormous social impact. The good news is that, to make up for it, it’s brief… so I hope you’ll keep reading!
Sep 29, 2025
September is one of the busiest months at FAR and, without a doubt, the time when I have the privilege of having the most direct contact with our beneficiaries, thanks to the distribution of the school scholarships. It is a close encounter, which is always accompanied by an endless stream of anecdotes that remind me, with renewed strength, why we are in the Rimkieta neighbourhood and why we do what we do.
Jun 30, 2025
Sophie, a participant in FAR’s “Bicycles for Rimkieta” program, vanished without a trace in April 2024. Now, more than a year later, she’s suddenly back in touch.
May 9, 2025
Rimkieta is cloaked in grief. Mouniratou, a 10-year-old girl enrolled in the Education for Unschooled Girls, has passed away. Locally, they call it “court maladie” (rapid illness), but it was likely cerebral malaria—a deadly form of infection caused by the Plasmodium falciparum parasite. Rest in peace, dear Mouniratou, and may the earth rest lightly upon you.
Feb 28, 2025
Adama walks with purpose, radiating confidence in every step. His bright, smiling eyes reflect deep gratitude. But a closer look reveals something more: a flicker of fear of life’s fragility and the quiet sorrow of someone who’s come far yet lived with the constant uncertainty of whether he and his siblings would eat each day, and the knowledge that his parents could not afford even basic medical care in case of illness. Though he carries himself with head held high, his heart bears invisible scars, etched by a life of sacrifice that’s felt more than seen.
