Burkina Faso: a decisive turning point as Ibrahim Traoré’s four-year record faces the verdict of the displaced
On 27 September 2026, Ibrahim Traoré granted an interview intended to take stock of his four years in power. What emerged was, above all, the official reading of his tenure: military operations, territories declared recaptured, equipment, investments and economic initiatives. The authorities clearly possess ample material with which to defend their record.
Yet a national assessment cannot be authored solely by those who govern. It must also be measured against the lived reality of the population. Four years on, a decisive turning point has arrived one that compels the country to confront the gap between official pronouncements and the daily experience of millions.
The displacement balance sheet
The first question remains one of security: four years after Ibrahim Traoré assumed power, how many Burkinabè can genuinely live safely in their own homes?
Burkina Faso continues to face a massive displacement crisis. UNHCR data recorded 2,062,534 internally displaced persons at the end of 2025 more than two million Burkinabè compelled to leave their homes while remaining within the country’s borders. When refugees and asylum-seekers are included, the number of forcibly displaced individuals exceeded 2.1 million.
This crisis extends well beyond Burkina Faso’s frontiers.
In neighbouring Côte d’Ivoire, UNHCR counted approximately 82,000 Burkinabè refugees as of June 2026, out of a total of 93,200 refugees and asylum-seekers hosted in the country.
I personally visited a camp sheltering Burkinabè refugees in northern Côte d’Ivoire. What I witnessed there brought tears to my eyes. The sheer number of people, the displaced families, the children, the faces marked by exile and the accounts of those forced to abandon their homes left me speechless.
Confronted with such a reality, one question becomes unavoidable: under these circumstances, can Ibrahim Traoré truly claim that all is well in Burkina Faso?
Behind the figures lie separated families torn from their land, farmers unable to cultivate, children deprived of normal schooling and communities obliged to rebuild their lives elsewhere.
This is why a so-called “reconquered” zone cannot be deemed definitively secure merely because the army has re-established a presence there. True reconquest begins when residents can return permanently, work their fields, send their children to school, access healthcare and live without fear of a fresh attack.
A territory retaken on a map is not necessarily a territory made liveable again.
Is criticism of the authorities still permitted?
The second question concerns the space left for dissent.
Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International documented in 2026 restrictions targeting journalists, civil society organisations and critical voices. HRW notably reported the dissolution of 118 civil society organisations and continues to demand answers regarding the fate of journalist Serge Oulon.
Such allegations must be examined and documented on a case-by-case basis. But the principle remains straightforward: criticising a government does not mean being against one’s country.
National security should not become an automatic response to any contradiction. A journalist who seeks accountability, a citizen who questions a decision or an organisation that documents a situation do not automatically become enemies of the nation.
The government is not the country.
The true record belongs to the people
Ibrahim Traoré may highlight his achievements. His supporters may regard the military operations, investments and economic initiatives as significant advances. These elements must be assessed on the basis of verifiable facts.
But the record must also incorporate the displaced, the refugees, the bereaved families, the abandoned villages and those still living in uncertainty.
After four years in power, the essential questions therefore remain the following:
How many Burkinabè can live in their own homes?
How many can work their land?
How many can send their children to school in safety?
How many have been forced to seek refuge in neighbouring countries?
And above all, how many can freely criticise those who govern them?
A genuine assessment should not fear these questions.
For when one is confronted with tens of thousands of Burkinabè who have sought refuge in Côte d’Ivoire and more than two million displaced within the country, it is not enough to present figures, speeches and images of achievements to decree that all is well.
The true record is also measured in the lives of those who have lost everything.
A people is not liberated by being told to remain silent. It is liberated when it can live in safety, speak freely and hold those in power to account.
By Thérèse Nguimfack — State political analyst
