Written in February 2025, updated on 11 September 2025
N’Djamena, 4 February 2025
Why go to Chad? Many people have asked me this. Some have strongly advised against it, probably because they know nothing of the country, other than what they’ve heard second-hand.
I went there myself and can dispel all the clichés
I also visited the capital, but the highlight of my trip was the Ennedi Mountains in the Sahara.
This mountain range is home to the Tubu people, which means ‘people of the mountains’. There are 250,000 nomads who inhabit and control a mountainous region in eastern Chad (Tchad in French), roughly the same size as France (Chad’s total area is twice that of France).
The Tubu live in huts without running water, electricity, the internet, etc., and are essentially camel drivers and herders.
The men look after the camels because they are used for caravans, with which they transport goods – such as salt – which they then resell.
Over the last few centuries, within their subsistence economy, the only industrial innovations to have been introduced into their territory are paraffin lamps and plastic, which is used for water jerrycans. For some – very few, wealthy people – the jerrycans are used to carry petrol for their motorbikes or pick-up trucks.
The Tubu live in an unspoilt paradise which, with temperatures that at certain times of the year exceed 45 degrees, can turn into a hell.
It is very rare for children to attend school, and there are no doctors or medicines. Only the strongest survive.
It is rare to see them smile; they do not like having their photograph taken, and the word ‘thank you’ does not exist in their language.
Spending time with them helps you rediscover the difference between what is important, useful and superfluous.
In the harshness of this rugged environment, the key word becomes ‘essential’.
Many things that seemed important at the start of our journey have, little by little, lost their meaning (I had 15 kg of luggage with me: not much? By the end of the journey, I hadn’t even used everything I’d brought!).
I miss the naive pride of the Tubu people and the mountains that surround them; I will continue to miss them.
But I don’t know whether the geopolitical situation will allow me to return, because after Mali in 2022, followed by Burkina Faso and Niger in 2023, Mahamat Idriss Déby’s Chad in fact unilaterally terminated its military cooperation agreements with France in November 2024, deeming them ‘obsolete’ and ‘outdated’ – precipitating,in January, the departure of a thousand soldiersfrom the last stronghold of the anti-jihadist ‘Barkhane’ operation, which was halted at the end of November 2022.
The country has opted for Russia’s sphereof influence over that of France: below you can see one of the many Ilyushin 76 TDs flying in and out of N’Djamena day and night.
Chad might decide to close its borders, as its neighbours Mali and Niger have done (the latter, for example, has just expelled the Red Cross delegation), although, to be fair, in those two countries there are religious reasons, linked to the insurgency fuelled by Islamist extremist groups, which are not present in Chad (*).
Chad is strategically important due to its location between Niger – which lies on the migrant route to Europe – and Sudan , which is a powder keg due to the civil war raging there and the hundreds of thousands of displaced people who have crossed the border and are now also within the country.
Since the conflict in Sudan broke out, in fact, 700, 000 people have crossed the border into Chad.
‘There simply isn’t enough water’..
There is also the risk of a conflict with Sudan, which was raised at the end of March. And the Chadian government cannot afford to leave its airports unprotected, as its offensive arsenal consists of just a few Soviet Sukhoi aircraft
Marine Le Pen has also realised this and has in fact just visited the country to try to make up the ground lost to Macron.
(*) Boko Haram is present, but only in the Lake Chad region.
The Russians are very active in Sudan (*) ,whilst in Chad the Saudis are making their presence felt by opening mosques.
However, returning to the Tubu, who are oblivious to geopolitics and simply trying to survive, with their camels and very little tourism – a few hundred people a year – here, below, you will find a series of images that give some idea of whatthe Ennedi is like:
despite all its problems and uncertainties, the country – with its people and its natural landscape – remains one of the most fascinating places I have ever visited.
P.S.: Anyone who thinks this trip was ‘madness’ should know that I was in Libya ten days before Gaddafi fell.
Thanks to Tommaso Ravà, Edouard and Hamada. And also to Benedetta, Nicos, Giulia, Federica and Silvia.
