Where borders fade September 1, 2026
From Guinea to Burkina Faso, from Mali to the Gambia, men came to Ndiassane with their history, their knowledge and their families. There they found a master, a land, a community. More than a century later, their descendants call themselves Senegalese without denying their origins. A story of mixing, transmission and loyalty which tells, in its own way, the transnational dimension of the work of Cheikh Bou Mouhamed Kounta.
The heat is strong this Saturday morning. In the courtyard of the Camara family home, in Ndiassane, she nevertheless seems to have little influence over Oustaz Baye Sidi Lamine Camara. Koranic master and one of the preachers of the Great Mosque before Friday prayers, he tells a story that begins far from Ndiassane.
It begins in Guinea. “We are from Guinea,” he said simply. Then the story goes back through the generations, to Hassan Camara, his grandfather, the one through whom the history of this family was closely linked to that of Ndiassane.
When Hassan arrives in the religious city, he meets Cheikh Bou Kounta. The meeting is decisive. The young man is attracted by the master’s knowledge. “When he came, they felt the light of Cheikh Bou Kounta because he was keen on knowledge. »
The Sheikh welcomes him. But he doesn’t just welcome it. He adopts the student, gives him the wird and entrusts him with land. Hassan Camara thus becomes a disciple, but also a farmer. “He was a model farmer. He inspired others. »
Hassan Camara marries Sokhna Fatou Baradji. The couple has several children. The eldest is named Cheikhal Becaye Camara. Another, Cheikh Bou Camara, settled in Banjul, Gambia.
Borders exist on maps. They are much less visible in families. Another link seals this proximity. Serigne Abdourahmane Kounta, seventh son of Mame Cheikh Bou Kounta, marries Sokhna Mintou Camara, daughter of Hassan Camara.
The relationship between the Camara and the Kounta then becomes a blood relationship. The disciple who comes from Guinea is no longer just a disciple. His descendants are now part of the history of Ndiassane.
“Today, we are an integral Ndiassane family. Our aunts are Kounta, the mixing is fluid,” says Baye Sidi Lamine Camara.
This expression, “the brewing is fluid”, says a lot about the way in which the city was built. Families crossed paths. Alliances have multiplied. The houses have grown larger.
“At least more than ten large houses came from the original house. »
And religious transmission has never stopped. The Camara house still houses a large Koranic school today, as if to extend the vocation of the man who, coming from Guinea, found a new land and a new mission with Cheikh Bou Kounta.
The family also has its religious guide. “His name is Cheikh Amdy Camara. He is the caliph of Hassan Camara’s family. »
A Guinean family that has become deeply Senegalese, without ever ceasing to be the repository of a memory from elsewhere.
An open house
This is perhaps where one of the keys to Ndiassane’s story lies. The city did not only welcome disciples. She gave them a place.
Tradition reports that Mame Cheikh Bou Kounta encouraged those who wanted to stay with him to settle in Ndiassane. “Mame Bou Kounta told those who wanted to worship the Lord to stay with him in Ndiassane,” recalls Baye Sidi Lamine Camara.
It was about moving from the status of visitor to that of resident, then member of the community. This means receiving land, starting a family, building a house, transmitting knowledge and participating in the life of the city.
This is how Ndiassane gradually became populated by families whose roots go back to several countries in the sub-region.
A few decades later, another story enriches this human geography. Her name is Idrissa Sanokho. “We are the only Sanokho in Ndiassane,” says his family.
The first Sanokho arrived from Burkina Faso at the beginning of the 20th century. His story also begins with a journey. Around 1900, he took the road to Mecca with his chamberlain.
During his journey, someone told him about a scholar living in Senegal and recommended that he go and ask for his prayers. The journey then changes direction.
Upon his arrival in Ndiassane, his destiny intersects with that of Cheikhal Becaye, eldest son of Cheikh Bou Kounta. He quickly understands that he is dealing with a man of knowledge. “He told Cheikhal Becaye to do everything to keep him because he knows something.”
The Caliph asks him to stay. An istikhara is made. But the answer directs him first towards his country of origin: he must return to Burkina Faso to complete his work.
The Caliph gives him a wife. Idrissa Sanokho finally chooses Ndiassane. He marries four Senegalese women. His children were born in Senegal. His descendants put down roots in the city.
“We keep a link with Burkina, but we are Senegalese in our own right.”
Idrissa Sanokho was not just a disciple. He was also a man of knowledge. He maintains links with other religious centers, notably Tivaouane, where he meets Serigne Babacar with whom he establishes close relationships.
His knowledge combines religion and knowledge of plants. It uses the Quran, the roots and practices of traditional medicine.
A great traditional practitioner, he treats people suffering from different disorders, particularly those considered to be affected by jinns.
The roads that connect Senegal to Mali, Burkina Faso, Guinea and the Gambia become so many paths along which people, ideas, practices and beliefs circulate.
The story of Ablaye Fall extends this same trajectory. “I am completely part of the family.”
His grandparents came from Mali. According to his testimony, some had seen Cheikh Bou Kounta in a dream when he had already died. Others came as farmers.
They settled down, made connections and some eventually embraced Islam. Here again, Mali and Ndiassane are not two separate worlds.
Cheikh Sidy Mokhtar, son of Cheikh Bou Kounta, himself went to Mali. The relationship between the Senegalese religious home and the Malian communities has thus been maintained over the generations.
The Malian presence is still visible in the city today. “There is a Malian neighborhood, Guineans. »
But beyond the neighborhoods, names and origins, Ablaye Fall above all retains an impressive mix.
Land as an instrument of integration
This mixing is not only the result of meetings between disciples. It was also organized. The caliphs granted great concessions to disciples who came from other horizons.
Land then played an essential role. To give land was to allow the foreigner to become an inhabitant. It was giving him the means to work, build a house and start a family.
Agriculture, very present in the stories of the first generations, thus becomes a tool of integration. Hassan Camara cultivated the land entrusted to him by Cheikh Bou Kounta. Other disciples from Mali or Burkina Faso did the same.
Ablaye Fall emphasizes another trait which, according to him, characterizes Ndiassane: the humility of the guides. “Even the guides are so humble that they are confused with the disciples. »
This proximity contributes to the attractiveness of the city. The master is not locked into social distancing. It is accessible. He welcomes. He transmits.
And this relationship allows men from different countries to integrate into the same community. The origins are not denied. They are overcome by a common belonging.
The road to Mali
The history of Ndiassane as a transnational space can also be read in the itineraries of those who, at the request of Cheikh Bou Kounta, traveled across West Africa to maintain links between the religious city and its communities.
Mamadou Lamine Berthé, son of Famara Berthé, was born in 1948. He tells a family story which also begins with a call from afar.
“My father felt, like a light, a call he received in a dream. He decided to go to Senegal to find a marabout there. »
The decision is then difficult to understand for those around Famara Berthé. In Mali, he has land, crops and the means to ensure his livelihood. Nothing, apparently, was pushing him to leave.
However, he takes the road to Ndiassane. He made the journey on foot and joined the city a few years after the installation of Cheikh Bou Kounta.
The encounter will determine the rest of his existence. Cheikh Bou Kounta entrusted him with a mission that went far beyond the limits of Ndiassane: to travel through several territories in West Africa to collect the adiya intended for the religious home.
“Cheikh Bou gives him the mission of recovering his adiya in Mali, Burkina and Ivory Coast. »
From that moment on, the roads became for Famara Berthé an extension of her loyalty to the Sheikh. After each harvest, he heads back to neighboring countries.
When he returns to Ndiassane, agricultural work has often already started. “After each harvest, he left. When he came back, he found that we had already sown. »
Famara Berthé had left her original environment to become a link between Ndiassane and several areas of West Africa.
From 1912 to 1914, he was in charge of mission at Thiaoune Kounta. He represents the interests of the religious home there and ensures the continuity of relations with the communities established on the national road going to Thies.
The death of Cheikh Bou Kounta in 1914, however, did not put an end to this mission. Cheikhoul Becaye, his eldest son and successor, asks Famara Berthé to continue the work accomplished with his father.
At first, he politely declines. He now wants to devote himself to agriculture. But Cheikhoul Becaye insists.
And it is then that the depth of the bond of trust established between Famara Berthé and the Kounta family is revealed. “He took out a piece of paper on which his father asked him to only trust my father, Famara Berthé. »
The document finally convinces Famara Berthé. He agrees to continue his mission with Cheikhoul Becaye and accompanies him for many years, until age prevents him from continuing.
This family history allows us to understand the transnational dimension of Ndiassane in a different way. “I am originally from Mali, but I have never set foot there. »
A few words which alone sum up part of the history of Ndiassane. Through Famara Berthé another facet of the work of Cheikh Bou Kounta emerges: that of a religious network capable of transcending political borders, of relying on trusted men and of maintaining regular relations with communities scattered in several countries.
By Oumar FEDIOR
