In Chad, the State Lets Assault Rifles Kill Over a Water Point

Twenty-five men dead over a well. Twenty-two wounded over a few litres of water that should never be worth a bullet. Less than a week ago, in south-western Chad, farmers and herders opened fire on each other around a single water point. Mothers are waiting today for sons who will not come back. Children have learned that the dry season is settled with a rifle.

We must ask the question that N'Djamena would rather avoid: who armed these men? A dispute over water between a herder and a farmer was once a local tragedy, resolved through palaver, the elders and the negotiating table. When these quarrels end in gunfire with weapons of war, it is no longer a communal conflict. It is a failure of the State, and it is total.

The picture, as reported by the people themselves, is damning. In several localities, the herd-minders employed by generals to guard their livestock are carrying weapons. A herder met on the outskirts of N'Djamena puts it bluntly: herders who live only from their animals and the land have no quarrel with farmers. The problem comes from armed men placed above the communities, protected by military stripes, answerable to no one. When a general has his animals guarded by men with guns, he is not protecting a herd. He is installing a militia.

The second circuit is smuggling. Abba Daoud Nandjédé, secretary general of the Alliance des Défenseurs des Droits Humains et de l'Environnement (ADHET), reminds us of a truth the region knows too well: since the collapse of the Libyan state in 2011, weapons of war have circulated across the Sahel like common currency. Chad's borders, including its long northern line with Libya, have become open gates for assault rifles. His organisation's research shows that, faced with insecurity, herders and farmers seek protection and turn to clandestine markets. When the State no longer protects, the citizen buys his own security, and the black market pockets the profit.

Let us remember what this means for a family. A herder who loses his cattle loses his savings, his bride-price, his future. A farmer who loses his harvest loses the ability to feed his children. When these two men each hold a Kalashnikov, the smallest spark becomes a massacre. The figures of violence are there, but what they conceal is heavier: emptied villages, closed schools, women carrying water and fear alone.

We must also look at the geography. Chad lives under the pressure of a climate that is going haywire, of Lake Chad, which has lost much of its surface area since the 1960s, and of a population that depends on a handful of water points for thousands of animals and families. Scarcity is not destiny. It is the outcome of decades of water management without a plan, without sustained investment and without transparent arbitration. In that vacuum, whoever holds the rifle decides who drinks.

This tragedy is not an isolated one. In the Sahel, wherever the State withdraws, weapons flow in and communities tear each other apart. Chad is not condemned to repeat this pattern. Countries in the region that chose to rebuild their institutions rather than tolerate warlords have reduced violence. Sierra Leone, after its civil war, demobilised tens of thousands of former combatants and restored a state presence in the countryside. Botswana, for its part, built its prosperity on livestock thanks to stable governance, clear property rights and rigorous management of resources, proving that a pastoral country can succeed when the State does its job.

So what must Chad do? First, disarm the private militias. No general, no civil servant, no notable should be able to entrust weapons of war to herd-minders. A public, controlled register of weapons held by individuals and companies must be established, with real sanctions for offenders, whatever their rank. Next, apply the regional commitments the country has accepted. The Kinshasa Convention of 2010 on the control of small arms in Central Africa obliges ECCAS member states to fight trafficking and proliferation. These texts are worthless if they stay in a drawer.

Then, the borders must be secured and the networks feeding the black market must be hunted down. This requires resources, cooperation with neighbours and genuine political will, not communiqués. Finally, invest in water: boreholes, retention basins, mapping of transhumance corridors and local arbitration mechanisms between herders and farmers, with committees where women and young people have a real place. Kenya, through its conflict-management initiatives for pastoral communities in the north of the country, has shown that community mediation, backed by the State and civil society, can calm tensions that seemed unquenchable.

Civil society must also do its work. ADHET and the organisations documenting these abuses are performing a public service. They must be protected, funded transparently and listened to. The private sector, finally, has a stake in peace: no serious investor commits to a country where water points are settled with a Kalashnikov. Security of property and of persons is the first condition of prosperity, and a free and regulated livestock market is worth infinitely more than a black market in weapons.

And we, Chadian citizens, what must we demand? We must demand that every death around a water point be the subject of a public inquiry, with findings published and those responsible prosecuted, whether or not they wear a uniform. We must demand the immediate removal of weapons of war from the hands of private individuals and herd-minders. We must demand that deputies, journalists and judges work without fear of reprisal. And we must say it, loudly, every time a village buries its dead without anyone being held to account.

How many more lives will it take for the State to wake up? How many wells must become cemeteries? Chad lacks neither land, nor brave people, nor traditions of mediation. It lacks one thing: the will to enforce the law for everyone, from the herder to the general. As long as the rifle is stronger than the law, the water point will remain a battlefield. The time to choose has come.

Based on reporting by ACSS-EMAIL