The Untold History of Passoré, Burkina Faso: A Microcosm of Global Struggles
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Nestled in the northern reaches of Burkina Faso, the Passoré Province carries a history that mirrors the resilience of its people. Long before European colonizers drew arbitrary borders across Africa, Passoré was home to the Mossi Kingdoms—a network of powerful states that thrived through trade, agriculture, and a sophisticated governance system. The Mossi people, who still dominate the region today, built their society around Naam, a concept blending spiritual authority and communal labor.
But the late 19th century brought violent change. French colonial forces, eager to exploit West Africa’s resources, dismantled Mossi autonomy. By 1896, the kingdom of Ouagadougou—which included Passoré—fell under the Afrique-Occidentale française (AOF). The French imposed cash crops like cotton, disrupting subsistence farming and forcing locals into grueling corvée labor. Passoré’s history, like much of Africa’s, became a footnote in Europe’s extractive project.
Post-independence Burkina Faso (then Upper Volta) inherited colonial-era inequalities, and Passoré bore the brunt. The 1960s-80s saw droughts and food shortages, exacerbated by Cold War geopolitics. Western-backed regimes prioritized cash crops for export, while Soviet-aligned voices (like Thomas Sankara later) demanded food sovereignty. In Passoré, farmers resisted—sometimes quietly, by preserving indigenous seed varieties; other times violently, like the 1983 uprising in Yako, where villagers clashed with soldiers over grain requisitions.
Sankara’s brief presidency (1983-87) brought hope. His Agrarian Revolution redistributed land, banned feudal levies, and promoted local millet over imported rice. Passoré’s women, traditionally excluded from land ownership, gained titles under Sankara’s reforms. But his assassination, backed by France and Compaoré’s coup, reversed progress. Today, Passoré’s fields are again dominated by cotton—a crop dictated by global markets.
Passoré now faces a existential threat: climate collapse. Rainfall patterns have shifted drastically since the 2000s, with the Sahel creeping southward. The Fulbe herders, who once traversed Passoré seasonally, now clash with Mossi farmers over shrinking arable land. These conflicts are weaponized by jihadist groups like JNIM, who recruit disillusioned youth.
Yet grassroots movements push back. In Bokin, a Passoré town, women’s cooperatives have revived ancient zaï pits—a farming technique that traps rainwater and restores degraded soil. NGOs like Terre Verte train farmers in agroecology, resisting Monsanto’s GMO cotton push. Their struggle isn’t just local; it’s part of the global Food Sovereignty movement challenging Big Ag.
Passoré’s recent instability is often blamed on "Islamic extremism," but the roots are deeper. France’s Operation Barkhane (2014-2022) flooded the region with troops, yet violence spiked. Critics argue Barkhane protected French uranium mines in neighboring Niger, not Burkinabè civilians. Meanwhile, Russia’s Wagner Group now courts Burkina’s junta, offering mercenaries in exchange for gold concessions—echoing colonial resource grabs.
Passoré’s youth are caught in the crossfire. Some join jihadists for wages; others migrate to Europe via the Libyan Route, where many perish in the desert or Mediterranean. Those who stay face a brutal choice: starve or fight.
Amidst the chaos, Passoré’s culture endures. Griots (oral historians) still perform warba songs chronicling Mossi kings and anti-colonial heroes. Bands like Yeleen fuse traditional balafon with hip-hop to critique corruption. In 2022, Passoré artists launched Faso Foli ("Homeland Music"), a festival defying jihadist bans on entertainment. Their message? Resistance isn’t always armed—sometimes, it’s a drumbeat.
Passoré’s fate hinges on whether Burkina Faso breaks its cycles of dependency. The 2022 coup leader, Capt. Traoré, vows to "decolonize" the economy, but his ties to Wagner raise doubts. Meanwhile, Passoré’s farmers experiment with push-pull agriculture, using desmodium plants to repel pests naturally. It’s a small act of defiance—one that rejects the pesticide treadmill pushed by Western agribusiness.
From Mossi kings to Sankarist rebels, Passoré’s history is one of adaptation and defiance. In a world obsessed with extraction, its people write a different narrative: that survival begins with sovereignty—over land, food, and memory.