A Chronicle of the Unexpected: Kittens and Our Contradictions (By Henriette Niang KANDE)

Our country is remarkable. Sometimes all it takes is a video of a few seconds, a meme on social media, for the entire nation to go into a moral uproar.

This week, the object of our collective indignation had whiskers. Kittens, little felines propelled to the status of subjects of state.

The National Parks Directorate has issued an official statement condemning the dissemination of images showing the use of kittens in mystical practices during a wrestling match. The document solemnly reiterates the principles of animal protection, the applicable laws, the international conventions ratified by Senegal, and the penalties incurred.

Reading the press release, one could almost believe that kittens have become the last bastions of our civilization.

This matter certainly deserves to be denounced. No living being should be used as a prop in superstitious displays or demonstrations of power intended to summon invisible forces. Respect for life is a fundamental marker of civilization. The way a society treats vulnerable beings always reveals something about its own maturity. A community capable of respecting the weak generally develops a greater willingness to protect the fragile.

Suddenly, Senegal has discovered a soul of universal defender of animals. Citizens who cross streets every morning where horses, most often starving, pull carts until exhaustion, carrying loads that would make a truck wobble, where sheep are transported in sometimes inhumane conditions.

And since we're on the subject of animal compassion, perhaps we should broaden the scope of our outrage. To the media-driven kittens, we could add the armies of dogs roaming our cities, their fur ravaged by mange, their ribs protruding like admissions of collective abandonment. These dogs have the misfortune of suffering off-camera. They receive neither solemn pronouncements nor heated debates. Remember the birds once captured and then released by a government minister seeking a symbolic image? It wasn't so much their fate that stirred public emotion as that of the vendors deprived of their livelihood. The birds, for their part, had the bad taste to discreetly disappear from the debate, as if they understood that their survival carried less weight in the balance of public opinion than the economic consequences of their media-driven flight. The affair had one considerable advantage: it was stamped with the seal of republican protocol.

Is indifference towards animals due to the fact that they have an extraordinary advantage over humans because they do not vote, do not protest, do not publish opinion pieces and do not demand a pay raise?

And so, two kittens have managed the feat of opening a national debate on animal suffering.

Until now, it seemed to be accepted that animals were creatures with an essentially utilitarian function, called upon to pull, carry, transport, feed, entertain, or serve as sacrifices. Their well-being often appeared as a secondary, or even decorative, consideration.

Yesterday, the Senegalese Wrestling Federation condemned the actions involving wrestler Reug Reug, accused of using kittens in mystical preparations before his fight on June 7, 2026. While acknowledging his public apology, the Federation nevertheless imposed a 10% deduction from his earnings and a six-month suspension, three months of which are to be served and three suspended. The Federation stated its intention to protect the image of wrestling, enforce the rules, and reiterate the obligation to protect animal welfare.

Another case cited in the press and on social media concerns Ama Baldé. Images and videos circulated showing the wrestler presenting himself with a large snake, described as a boa or python, as part of his mystical preparation and his entry into the arena. This practice sparked numerous reactions at the time and a debate about the limits of rituals in Senegalese wrestling. The wrestler was sanctioned by the National Wrestling Management Committee.

This episode primarily reveals a distinctly Senegalese characteristic: our penchant for selective outrage. We possess an artistic talent for spotting a glaring fault while ignoring the mountains of contradictions surrounding it.

In some comments posted on social media, users are demanding exemplary sanctions, legal proceedings, exclusions, and even penalties that the Penal Code itself would never have dared to imagine. The kitten has suddenly become more sacred than certain republican values.

However, the educational value of the National Parks' statement should be acknowledged, as the issue of animal welfare often remains marginal. It aptly reminds us that an animal is neither a talisman, nor an object of esoteric decoration, nor an instrument intended to impress crowds, and that the protection of wildlife is not solely a matter of individual sentiment but also a matter of law. This deserves to be emphasized. The true lesson of this affair extends far beyond the case of the miniature felines exhibited in an arena.

But we must avoid turning this growing awareness into a gigantic charade. If we truly want to protect animals, we must examine markets, farms, transportation, certain entertainment practices, and countless habits we've normalized. In other words, we must accept that the problem doesn't begin with two kittens spotted in a wrestling arena. And it certainly won't end with a press release.

Senegalese wrestling, for its part, will likely survive this controversy. It has weathered far more serious storms. The marabouts will continue to promise invincibility. The wrestlers will continue to seek every imaginable form of protection. The fans will continue to believe that victory depends as much on physical prowess as on mysteries.

Today kittens. Yesterday something else. Tomorrow probably a parrot suspected of influencing the outcome of a fight.

Who knows? At this rate, the National Parks Directorate may end up creating a special unit for the protection of mystical animals, with a toll-free number, a permanent observatory and a national program for the reintegration of cats who are victims of sports witchcraft.

And since the National Parks Directorate has suddenly discovered a vocation as a vigilant guardian of animal welfare, perhaps it would be useful for it to also take a look at the state of its own showcases. The Hann Forest and Zoological Park, long presented as the "green lung" of Dakar and a hub for environmental education, has for several years been the subject of recurring criticism regarding its degradation, the aging of its infrastructure, the decline of some of its plant life, and inadequate maintenance. Citizens regularly describe the park as "dying," while the authorities themselves periodically acknowledge the need for safeguarding and rehabilitation measures.

Therefore, one might be tempted to suggest, with all due republican deference, that before hunting down kitten wizards in wrestling arenas, the administration could also ensure that the country's most famous urban park does not continue to deteriorate under the tender gaze of those who are officially in charge of it.

Because it's rather ironic that cats are the subject of an official statement before the park itself undergoes a major overhaul. On that day, no doubt, the animals will look at humans with that mysterious expression they've worn for centuries, thinking very hard and saying to themselves: "In the end, perhaps the strangest creatures in this story aren't us."

Henriette Niang Kandé