On 27 September 2026, Ibrahim Traoré granted an interview intended to take stock of his four years in power. The exercise, however, largely amounted to the official reading of his own record: military operations, territories described as reconquered, equipment, investments and economic initiatives. The government, in other words, does not lack material to defend its tenure.
Yet a national balance sheet cannot be drawn by those who govern alone. It must also be tested against the lived reality of the population. That is where the decisive shift becomes visible — and where the momentum claimed by the authorities meets its most stubborn contradiction.
The displacement toll that refuses to recede
The first question remains one of security: four years after Ibrahim Traoré came to power, how many Burkinabè can genuinely live in their own homes in safety?
Burkina Faso continues to face a massive displacement crisis. Data from the UNHCR recorded 2,062,534 internally displaced persons at the end of 2025 — more than two million Burkinabè forced to leave their homes while remaining inside the country. When refugees and asylum seekers are added, the number of forcibly displaced people exceeded 2.1 million.
Nor does the crisis stop at Burkina Faso’s borders. In neighbouring Côte d’Ivoire, the UNHCR counted roughly 82,000 Burkinabè refugees as of June 2026, out of a total of 93,200 refugees and asylum seekers hosted in the country.
I travelled myself to a camp sheltering Burkinabè refugees in northern Côte d’Ivoire. What I saw there left me close to tears. The sheer number of people, the displaced families, the children, the faces marked by exile, and the accounts of those who had to abandon their homes left me speechless.
Against such a reality, one question becomes unavoidable: with all of this, can Ibrahim Traoré honestly tell us that all is well in Burkina Faso?
Behind the figures lie families severed from their land, farmers unable to cultivate, children deprived of a normal education and communities compelled to rebuild their lives elsewhere.
This is precisely why an area described as “reconquered” cannot be treated as permanently secured simply because the army has retaken a position there. True reconquest begins only when residents can return for good, 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.
The narrowing space for dissent
The second question concerns the room left for criticism.
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 press for explanations regarding the fate of journalist Serge Oulon.
Such allegations must be examined and documented case by case. The principle, however, remains straightforward: criticising a government does not mean being against one’s country.
National security should not become an automatic answer to every contradiction. A journalist who asks for 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 only record that truly counts 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 deserve examination on the basis of verifiable facts.
But any honest assessment must also include 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 had to seek refuge in neighbouring countries?
- And above all, how many can freely criticise those who govern them?
A genuine balance sheet should not fear such questions.
For when one is confronted with tens of thousands of Burkinabè who have had to seek refuge in Côte d’Ivoire and more than two million displaced inside the country, it is not enough to present figures, speeches and images of achievements to declare 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 stay silent. It is liberated when it can live in safety, speak freely and hold those in power to account.