Zabre/chronicle: The nightmare of vanished motorcycles resurfaces In Zabre, motorcycles sometimes have a nasty habit of magically disappearing. After a break, the thieves seem to have returned to action, reminding residents that the peace and quiet was only an illusion. Two vehicles stolen in one week from the CMA and the urban CSP 1 are enough to rekindle fears of the return of an old scourge.

According to Burkina Information Agency, behind every stolen vehicle lies much more than a two-wheeled machine: patient savings, family sacrifices, sometimes the only tool of the trade. Losing a motorcycle in Zabre isn't just losing a material possession; it's often seeing a fragile balance collapse. Something to cry about, no doubt.

And yet, it's hard not to smile bitterly at the local paradox. Parking lots exist, often empty, sometimes neglected. Users, however, prefer to defy common sense: they park in front of a maquis, a health center, or a market, just a stone's throw from an official parking lot. Some even go so far as to leave the key in the ignition, as if an unspoken rule were enough to protect their machine: "Don't touch my motorcycle." For thieves, it's the perfect opportunity.

So, laugh or cry? Maybe both. But a lesson is in order: it's time for Zabre to take parking culture seriously. Not as an option, but as a necessity. Because a motorcycle here isn't a luxury: it's a means of livelihood, a means of mobility, and sometimes a lifeline.

Thieves, on the other hand, don't philosophize. They observe, they profit, and they take action. It remains to be seen whether the population will finally accept the stick they themselves are holding out to them to be whipped.