Djibouti’s hidden rock art offers a window into the past

From a distance, the black cliffs seem featureless, scorched by a scorching desert sun. But up close, the basalt reveals engravings of giraffes, ostriches and antelopes made 7,000 years ago.

These masterful works, carved on stone in northern Djibouti, are among the most important examples of rock art in the Horn of Africa, a region rich in archaeological heritage and the cradle of humanity.

Stretching for three kilometers (almost two miles), some 900 panels in Abourma depict in magnificent relief the prehistoric life in these regions, dramatic scenes of primitive man confronting wildlife and cows at the wheel.

But these centuries-old images, rendered by flint on igneous rock, also offer precious testimony to a bygone era – and a land radically reshaped by millennia of climate change.

The wildlife pictured is still found today in the plains and grasslands of Africa, but not in Djibouti, a harsh desert landscape where water and greenery have been scarce for thousands of years.

A dirt road crosses the rugged terrain near the remote site of Abourma which receives few tourists. By TONY KARUMBA (AFP)

“Today, Abourma is a kind of cemetery because we no longer have these animals here. At the time, they wandered here because Djibouti was covered with forest,” said Omar Mohamed Kamil, a young tourist guide who takes visitors to Abourma.

“In Abourma … we are a little apart from civilization. We are in prehistory, we live in prehistory.”

Millennia after millennia

This treasure is a six hour drive from the capital, the city of Djibouti, then another hour on foot over a steep expanse of rocks.

It would be almost impossible to find without Ibrahim Dabale Loubak, camel breeder and guardian of Abourma, who claims to “know every stone, every corner” of this rocky massif.

Ibrahim Dabale Loubak, guardian of rock art, tells the story told through ancient representations of wildlife and cultural practices, near the Djibouti-Ethiopian border. By TONY KARUMBA (AFP)

The 41-year-old is from the Afar community, a historically nomadic people who wandered the arid fringes of Djibouti, Eritrea and Ethiopia, and who have known the sculptures for generations.

“Our grandfathers told our fathers, then our fathers told us,” said Loubak, a traditional turban and fabric skirt covering her slim figure.

Despite this local wisdom – and around 70 centuries of existence – Abourma was not visited by archaeologists until 2005.

It was Loubak who guided the first French team to the site, dragged by a caravan of camels bringing food, dormitories and other essential equipment including a generator for the remote investigation.

Archaeologist Benoit Poisblaud, who was part of the team, still evokes with wonder the “extraordinary site”, not found elsewhere in the region that he studied as a 25-year-old researcher.

“Abourma is a continuity, over several millennia, of passages, engravings, made by very different peoples: hunters, pastors, and those after … Thousands and thousands of representations”, he declared .

The oldest carvings predate Christ’s birth by 5,000 years, while more recent examples were painted around two millennia ago, he said.

Guardians of the Desert

Africa is teeming with archaeological sites, but few, especially rock art, have been fully studied, said Emmanuel Ndiema, head of archeology at the Kenya National Museums in Nairobi.

“So far, as we speak, we are still receiving reports of sites here in Kenya, not even elsewhere,” he said, estimating that only 10-20% of archaeological treasures in sub-Saharan Africa had been properly studied.

Ibrahim Dabale Loubak: “No one can come here without my knowledge”. By TONY KARUMBA (AFP)

This jeopardizes the universal value and preservation of these finds, experts say, which, if nurtured, could eventually attract tourists and history buffs, generating much-needed government revenue.

However, greater visibility has its own potential cost to heritage.

Abourma, for example, receives so few visitors that there are no fences, barricades or rules or any kind for those who make the journey to this vast hidden expanse.

Loubak, however, isn’t too worried about the threats to these millennial works of art, with his eyes everywhere signaling the slightest disturbance or outside presences.

“No one can come here without my knowledge,” he said.