Pojawiło się w sieci ostrzeżenie przed tą firma , współpracuje z AL QAEDA
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"THIS IS A WARNING NOT TO GO WITH MOULAYE! HE WORKS WITH AL QAEDA TERRORISTS AND HE BETRAYED US TO THEIR HANDS. This is not the first time it happened to Moulaye’s clients. Thai guy travelling with this agency was also kidnapped some years ago. Our kidnapping happened in Yangasso, which is where Moulaye comes from. It is his village! Moreover, he hasn’t even reported that we were kidnapped to the police or gendarmerie. It’s pointless to mention that he refused to return the money we paid for the tour after we managed to get released.
PLEASE STAY AWAY FROM MOULAYE TRAORE MAIGA AND WALADO TRAVEL (whatsapp: +34 632 238 408), HE WORKS WITH AL QAEDA!!!"

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OK, ale jakieś wiarygodne źródło, coś więcej? Takie ostrzeżenie mogła napisać konkurencja, choć temat poważny to bez potwierdzonego, wiarygodnego źródła byłbym ostrożny w umieszczaniu takich rzeczy.

Fixer załatwia przygodę życia, a tu taka niewdzięczność

wiadomość zamieszczona na jednej z grup poświęcanej Afryce
tu masz całość wraz z namiarem na niego
MALI: KIDNAPPING + DISHONNEST GUIDE
PLEASE DON’T TRAVEL TO MALI!
Early September 2025 I entered Mali for a tourist visit in planned duration of 6 days, with a friend, member of this forum. The plan was to go from Bamako to Mopti and back overland in a travel agency arranged car, and also to visit Siby afterward.
Visa was approved by Berlin embassy, easy process, double entry received although asked for single entry.
First day we spent in Bamako, on our own, wondering around, drinking beers in bistros, tasting street food and hanging with locals. Felt quite safe, although locals were warning us it’s dangerous. On the second day we were off to Segou, San, Mopti, depends how far we reach. Transport was arranged by Walado Travel ([https://www.facebook.com/waladotravel/](https://www.facebook.com/waladotravel/)) and its owner Moulaye Traore Maiga ([https://www.facebook.com/moulaye.traoremaiga.3](https://www.facebook.com/moulaye.traoremaiga.3) and [https://www.instagram.com/moulayetraore807/](https://www.instagram.com/moulayetraore807/)). He owns the agency in Mali and lives in Spain.
Everything was fine until we were stopped by a blockage on the road between Bla and San, in a village called Yangasso. 12 bearded Al Qaeda terrorists with AK47 on 6 motorbikes surrounded the car and kidnapped us! We were taken from the main road to the bush. The guide ran away two minutes before the terrorists appeared, as he knew they are coming. I don’t remember his name, he’s one of guides from Walado Travel. Moulaye sent him from the comfort of his home in Spain. The driver was also detained with us and released after four days.
THIS IS A WARNING NOT TO GO WITH MOULAYE! HE WORKS WITH AL QAEDA TERRORISTS AND HE BETRAYED US TO THEIR HANDS. This is not the first time it happened to Moulaye’s clients. Thai guy travelling with this agency was also kidnapped some years ago. Our kidnapping happened in Yangasso, which is where Moulaye comes from. It is his village! Moreover, he hasn’t even reported that we were kidnapped to the police or gendarmerie. It’s pointless to mention that he refused to return the money we paid for the tour after we managed to get released.
PLEASE STAY AWAY FROM MOULAYE TRAORE MAIGA AND WALADO TRAVEL (whatsapp: +34 632 238 408), HE WORKS WITH AL QAEDA!!!
After the kidnapping, we were driven for a few days in Toyota Landcruisers through the desert and uninhabited areas, deeper and deeper into the north of the country. Then we were transferred to a boat on which we traveled along the Niger River and its narrow, remote tributaries, through parts where there were absolutely no roads or mobile signal. Days of displacement, isolation and uncertainty. We were shifted somewhere along the border of Mali and Mauritania, far beyond the control of Malian government. We were changing camps, sleeping on the ground, under an open sky, hearing sounds of wolves and hyenas nearby, and guarded by armed terrorists. Eating plain dirty rice full of sand, no oil, no salt, nothing, and drinking dirty water from nearby ponds where cows, sheep, goats urinating and shitting, boiling it on a fire for a whole days. Pure survival.
In captivity, we met other prisoners: members of a Malian army, local civilians, foreigners, most of them Chinese workers, people who had been there for years. In one of the camps there were four Chinese who tried to escape. Two were captured, brutally beaten and taken very far to the north, and the fate of the other two is unknown. Some of the detainees were chained, nailed to a tree for years. Some of young terrorists (most of guards were children, 10-16 years old; one of them was only 6 years old!) provoked us by digging miniature graves in a sand, throwing twigs in them and pointing at us, gesturing with their throats slit and saying every day that we were going to die. We were aware of how thin the line between life and death was in that part of the world, how little it took for a journey to turn into something you could never come back from, how fragile the line was between adrenaline, freedom and tragedy.
Nobody helped us. Nobody was able to help or locate us. We saved ourselves ‘playing a game’ persistently and convincingly from a beginning to an end. We were kept hostages for two months after which we managed to get released, without any ransom paid. How? There were many many things we were trying out. I’ll keep the details for myself for now. Let some time pass. It’s important to mention that nobody physically abused us. Mentally, it was terrible. Uncertainty was the most difficult part.
We were extremely lucky and played totally professional and therefore managed to get released in express time. I’m a member of mountain rescue service in my country, having undergone different trainings on how to behave in difficult situations, and that also helped me a lot to stay calm and assess every situation that occurred. Also the fact two of us sticking together was crucial. I can’t even imagine how difficult it would be if they separated us.
Series of stories from this trip (including kidnapping) can be found in archive on my instagram: marin.petrov1c

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Dobrze pisałem, że mu przygodę życia załatwił:

Po tym, jak trafiłem w ręce Al-Kaidy, wielu mnie skreśliło, myśląc, że nigdy się nie wydostanę, osądzali mnie i pytali: „Po co mu to było, dlaczego kusi los?”. Takim osobom nie chcę odpowiadać – wiem, że wielu po prostu nie jest w stanie tego zrozumieć. Inni bezwarunkowo próbowali pomóc. Pół kraju stanęło na nogi, nawet najsilniejsze państwa Europy, dyplomatycznymi wysiłkami próbowały mnie namierzyć i uwolnić. Nikt nie mógł mi pomóc, choć niektóre agencje czy osoby próbowały w mediach zbierać zasługi i tanie punkty. Sam siebie uratowałem, „grając w grę” wytrwale i przekonująco od początku do końca.
Spałem na twardej ziemi przez 55 nocy, przez 55 dni gotowałem wodę z kałuży, do której załatwia się bydło, żeby przeżyć, jadłem suchy ryż i nic więcej. Budziłem się przy odgłosach wszelkich możliwych zwierząt, głównie wilków i hien, codziennie zabijałem skorpiony wokół miejsca, gdzie spałem. Zrozumiałem, że – jakkolwiek niewiarygodnie to brzmi – nawet w Al-Kaidzie są porządni ludzie, brodacze, którzy choć na zewnątrz wydają się lodowaci, po pewnym czasie otwierają swoją duszę. Choć kryją się za długimi brodami i wieloma karabinami, choć są prymitywni i niewykształceni, wielu z nich ma serce.
Przemierzyłem świat. Nigdzie nie spotkałem większej egzotyki niż w Mali. Choć tego nie chciałem, zobaczyłem miejsca, których nigdy wcześniej nie widział żaden turysta, miejsca, gdzie biały człowiek nigdy nie postawił stopy. Byłem świadkiem nierealnych widoków. Nigdzie na świecie nie widziałem piękniejszych wschodów i zachodów słońca. Nigdzie nie spotkałem tak egzotycznych wiosek i ludzi, którzy nie wiedzą, że istnieją biali, ponad pięćsetletnich imponujących meczetów zbudowanych z gliny i drewnianej „konstrukcji”, nigdzie nie widziałem takiego ubóstwa.
Wozili mnie przez pola ryżowe, boso chodziłem przez otaczające je bagna, przechodziłem przez opuszczone wioski zaginionych mieszkańców, odpoczywałem w cieniu majestatycznych baobabów, spałem na płaskich dachach glinianych domów, pływałem rozpadającymi się łodziami po Nigrze…