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Developments:
At the sacred crocodile pool in Kartong, two female elders from the village sit in the dust rolling tasbih beads between their fingers and intoning Arabic prayers. Pilgrims come from as far away as Mali and Guinea-Bissau to ask the women for blessings. Promotion at work, resolution of arguments and, most of all, fertility are among the most common requests. Candles, kola nuts and cash are given in return.
On the day I visit, the brother of an MP from Bakau near the capital is here, sitting cross-legged by the shady pool. The elders, clad in headscarves and with their legs stretched out in front of them, sit some yards behind him, chanting their dirges. Before the recent local elections, the MP himself had come to Kartonko to pray for assistance during the campaign. The ballot won, he has sent his brother to offer thanks.
After the prayers finish, one of the women climbs down the slope to the pool and scoops some water into a tin (the crocodiles, which are not visible today, are harmless to humans). The MP's brother takes the water to wash in a nearby hut. The pool has never dried up, even in the keenest drought, and it is said that if you photograph one of the crocs, it will not appear on the developed print.
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