Hawa Maney emerges from the doorway of her dark, two-room home with a small bowl of lettuce. The shredded leaves are coated with a bit of oil and wilting in the heat — it’s already pushing 100 degrees in northwestern Niger and it’s only February.
We sit in the shade of the mud walls and Hawa, 35, explains that the lettuce is the only thing she and her six-year-old daughter, Ramatou, have to eat today. Our conversation is punctuated by the rhythmic echoes of women pounding millet throughout the village, and I wonder how long that sound will last.
Serious food crisis looms