Traoré's Regime Kidnaps Cousins to Punish an Exiled Opponent

Two years. Twenty-four months of silence, of unanswered questions, of mothers watching their phones. That is what it cost Nicodème and Romaric to carry the name of a family that displeased the power in Ouagadougou. They were accused of nothing. No judge heard them. No trial convicted them. They were arrested, erased, then released on Monday, 2 November, the way you return a borrowed object without ever apologizing.

We must ask the question the junta refuses to face: what did Nicodème do? What did Romaric do? The answer is as simple as it is shameful. They are the cousin and the younger cousin of Djibril Bassolé, former Minister of Foreign Affairs, now in exile. In Captain Ibrahim Traoré's Burkina, a blood tie to an opponent is enough to turn a citizen into a bargaining chip.

The facts are stubborn. Nicodème and Romaric disappeared in October 2024. No official reason was given to their family. No charge was made public. This was not a judicial investigation. It was a hostage-taking. And it was not isolated. A few days earlier, Sunni imam Kindo had also regained his freedom after a detention whose grounds were never clearly established. Two men, an imam, broken families: the pattern is the same. Arrest, make them vanish, then wait for the pain to do its political work.

One man remains behind bars. Omar Zalla, aide-de-camp to Djibril Bassolé, is still being held incommunicado. Incommunicado. Not in pretrial detention, not under judicial supervision, but beyond reach of his lawyer, his family, and any independent judge. Let it be said plainly: Burkina Faso practises enforced disappearance as an instrument of government. The authorities know it. Its partners know it. And the silence of the regional community has become complicity.

This case can only be understood in light of the country's trajectory. Djibril Bassolé served as minister under Blaise Compaoré, a figure of the system that dominated Burkina Faso for more than a quarter century. He was prosecuted in the case of the failed 2015 coup and chose exile over the justice he had been promised. Whatever one thinks of his record, one truth is non-negotiable: a man must not pay for his opinions or his family ties. When a power goes after the relatives of an adversary, it is not defending the nation. It is confessing its fear.

And what of the broader context? Since the successive coups of 2022, the junta has extended the transition to 2029, dissolved the political space, muzzled the press, and silenced critical voices. Journalists have been abducted and forcibly conscripted into the army. Dozens of civilians have disappeared. Sovereigntist rhetoric serves as a shield: we invoke independence, dignity, the fight against foreign interference, while ordinary Burkinabè pay the price of that rhetoric. A people's sovereignty is not measured by the number of anti-Western speeches. It is measured by a mother's peace of mind when her son comes home late from the market.

We must say it without hedging: Burkina Faso will not be free as long as its prisons are used to punish families. A sovereign state protects its citizens. It tries them publicly, with evidence, before courts. It does not abduct them to send a message abroad.

So what must be done? The answer is not mysterious. It is simply demanding. First, every detained person must be brought immediately before a judge, with access to a lawyer and to family. This is the principle of habeas corpus, the very protection that shields citizens in Mauritius, Botswana, and Senegal, three African countries that have made the rule of law their pride and their economic strength. Mauritius built a diversified economy on institutional stability. Botswana made transparency and the rules of alternation iron-clad. Senegal proved in 2024 that peaceful alternation through the ballot box is possible, even after a long crisis. These examples demonstrate a truth the juntas would prefer we forget: durable authority is built on legitimacy, not fear.

Next, the African Union and its African Commission on Human and Peoples' Rights must publicly take up the file on disappearances in Burkina Faso, demanding an independent investigation and access to places of detention. The United Nations, through its Working Group on Enforced Disappearances, must document every case and demand named answers. The country's economic partners, whether European, American, Chinese, or Turkish, must make their cooperation conditional on respect for fundamental rights. You cannot sign mining contracts and look away from men who have vanished.

Finally, Burkinabè civil society, lawyers, journalists, and independent media must be protected, not silenced. This is where the rebuilding of a country takes place. A free economy cannot exist without property rights, impartial justice, and freedom of expression. Investors flee arbitrary states, and young Burkinabè flee with them.

So here is our appeal. To Ouagadougou: release Omar Zalla, or bring him before a judge with public charges. Tell the families where their loved ones are and what they are accused of. Stop making citizens disappear for the ties they carry. To the African Union: break your silence and demand independent investigations. To our fellow citizens in every African country: do not let these disappearances become routine. Share the names, press your parliamentarians, support the lawyers and journalists who document these cases. Nicodème and Romaric have gone home. But how many others are still waiting for a door to open? Our duty is to answer that question before it becomes our own.

Based on reporting by ACSS-EMAIL