On her terrace in Yeumbeul, a town in the suburbs of Dakar, Seydina Badji, celebrates a small victory. Despite the “terrible suffering” endured by the fractures of his two legs, the municipal agent of Ziguinchor has just gotten up without help from the crumpled mattress which hosted his convalescence.

As he recounts the circumstances of his gunshot wounds, his gaze becomes lost in his memories of June 1st. That day, the capital of Casamance was set ablaze after the conviction of its mayor, the opponent Ousmane Sonko, to two years in prison for “corruption of youth” in a trial where he was accused of rape by a former employee of the Sweet Beauty massage parlor, Adji Sarr.

In the ambulance seeking his way through the barricaded streets, his friend, Omar Cissé, died from his head injuries. Since then, every evening, Seydina Badji consoles himself with the idea that he could have suffered the same fate as his four friends who died during the two days of riots which shook Senegal. “I could have stayed there,” he emphasizes. Twenty-three people died according to Amnesty International, including six in the Ziguinchor region. 357 injured demonstrators were also rescued throughout the country by the Red Cross.

The memory of those killed by police repression

Five months later, the specter of amputation has receded for Seydina Badji’s still bandaged left leg. Several surgeries were necessary to repair the damage caused by the bullets, but the skin graft to close the wound did not produce the expected results. If the distance from Ziguinchor and his five children weighs on him, he is now considering seeking treatment outside the country.

In Lyndiane, her neighborhood, one of the most populous in Ziguinchor and also one of the most damaged by police repression, everyone remembers the young Sano, or Sidya, a very politically engaged resourceful person, or even Kara, a footballer talented. All were shot and killed during demonstrations in support of Ousmane Sonko. The opponent has been in detention since the end of July, accused in particular of calling for insurrection, criminal association in connection with a terrorist enterprise and endangering state security.

“It’s as if the police only came here to shoot us,” says Boubacar Diallo. A leg amputee, he tells his story a few meters from the intersection where a bullet hit him during the demonstrations of June 17, 2022. His voice broken after a day of collecting sponsorships for Bassirou Diomaye Faye, the number two of Ousmane Sonko designated presidential candidate to replace the leader of the party, dissolved by the State at the end of July, he has become a mascot of his comrades. This November 24, a photo of him, crutches at his side, sitting on the ground to fill out sponsorship forms made the rounds on social networks and attracted numerous messages of encouragement, which he proudly displays on his cellphone.

Bring together the victims of the demonstrations

His commitment to his political leader remains intact assures Boubacar Diallo, but his life was turned upside down by his injury. Only son, breadwinner and assistant to his bedridden grandfather, the betting kiosk he ran with his mother had to close during his months of inactivity. His resentment against the state has only increased since then. “From my entry into the hospital to my exit, it was the opponents [of Pastef] who managed my medical expenses, I never saw anyone from the government at my bedside,” he fumes, annoyed.

Cheikh Sourat Youssouph Sagna, brutalized during his arrest by gendarmes in June 2022, has already found a name for the future association bringing together the victims of the demonstrations that he hopes to one day found in Ziguinchor: the Association of those injured in the protest of injustice. “Everyone could retrace the facts so as not to forget, so that our stories do not disappear,” explains the former unemployed hotelier, local member of Amnesty International. The beating suffered left after-effects. “Sometimes while walking he suddenly stands still for a long time because of his back pain,” says his aunt in tears.

If Cheikh Sourat Youssouph Sagna readily recounts the violence of the gendarmes, he also wants to summon “his young brothers” who were injured, as well as the elderly people in the neighborhood. “When we couldn’t do anything because of our condition, they were there and saw everything,” he says.

Invisible wounds

Among local residents, Awa Mané remembers the unbearable smell of tear gas penetrating homes. Still angry, she says she had to break down the neighbor’s window to evacuate a fainted relative.

In the courtyard of Cheikh Sourat’s house, the calm is only disturbed by the cries of fear of a few onlookers when the victims tell their story. “Massa [“courage”]”, we whisper in the audience. “Yet you almost died! », says a lady to young Almamy Dieme. The young plumber had just recounted with fatalism the tingling in his chest, the last memory of a bullet received in June which left him bedridden for three months.

Injuries are not just physical. Daouda Mballo is aware of the changes in his group of friends after the death of Souleymane Sano in June. “If he had died otherwise, it could have gone more easily, but we saw his corpse with the impact of the bullet,” he emphasizes, still moved. For someone who hung out with us every day, it’s not forgotten. »

Cheikh Sourat Youssouph Sagna has been preparing for several months with his lawyers to sue the State for torture, even if he doubts that this will succeed. He hopes that his example will trigger a collective complaint from other victims of repression in Ziguinchor.