In the Western world, climate change is an inconvenience. We try and wash our cars less or allow our yard to go brown. We turn up the air conditioning in the summer and buy more layers to get us through the colder winter months. We can see the consequences of climate change happening as polar bears on YouTube float away on melting ice caps. Some of us have even felt it through the West Coast forest fires and scorching Southern heat. In Africa, however, climate change is impacting how people live (or die) on a daily basis. The increasing heat dries up river beds at alarming rates and the colder winters can be felt significantly with every drop in degree. Despite what many may think- Africa gets cold. During the winter temperatures can drop close to freezing making pneumonia one of the largest causes of death amongst children and the elderly in higher elevations- because a winter coat from the second hand market (which was likely donated by a kind American family) costs more than a week’s worth of maize flour (the staple food). At the height of the cold season in Malawi, around late July, we were in an upland village (situated about 4,000 ft above sea level) screening HIV/AIDS movies with a partner organization – UTU Africa. Because our mobile video shows use projectors - they require darkness. Our audience, mostly elementary aged children, sat around waiting for the sunset patiently. Malawian sunsets are almost always comprised of vibrant hues of pink and red – so I did not mind waiting; but as the sky dimmed you could see the children begin to huddle for warmth. Like penguins in the Arctic, they nestled together into an interwoven mass of children. Helpless, I offered my chitenje to two boys who seemed the worst dressed for the occasion... but the other 280 would have to shiver through the films. While I felt bad for keeping in the cold, I had to remember that they are used to this- they spend winters huddled in smoke filled kitchens to keep warm and use their school uniforms for extra blanket layering at night.Our video was not making the climate colder... the children would freeze through the winter no mater how their time was spent. For the children of the upland villages – climate change means pneumonia. Malawi’s lakeshore, falling at another extreme, seems to hold weather in more acute states. For the past few weeks we have been working with staff to collect food security interviews which include seasonal calendars – asking villagers to draw out what happens in the course of a year (planting, harvesting, rainfall, disease, hunger...). According to these lineal maps – the rainy season overlaps with the windy seasonm causing fishing to end for several months. The villagers say that fish (their one regular source of protein) can only be had when the waves are calm enough to not capsize their tiny log canoes – and in more recent years several fisherman have been lost in desperation to the Lake. The rains also come in such massive loads that the village now marks ‘flooding season’ on their calendars – in anticipation of washed away bridges and swamped maize fields. Going to the other extreme, study participants also marked half of the year with ‘no water available’. Already in Usisya the taps are running dry which means that until the rains come in late November – people will be carrying water from the lake. Most people are situated close to the lake, so the trek is not terribly far – but without the means to treat their water consistently- water born disease will begin to spread. 'Cholera' was marked on all the calendars to begin in December and ‘funeral season’ will begin shortly after. For the lakeshore villages – climate change means flooding and disease. Across all villages, November to February will be the most challenging time in Malawi. Layered across the calendars, this will be the time when school fees are due, when crops need to be planted, when farming inputs need purchased, when their stores will be empty, when food will need to be purchased, and when the ‘hungry season’ is to happen. This year will be particularly bad as the rains came late and in massive flooding quantities last year – causing stores to be low months too early. Through focus group discussion, we asked villagers what they will do when there is no food this December- their coping mechanisms will be selling any assets they have (clothes, furniture, goats...) and eating fewer meals. Some families, however, do not have assets as we are beginning to learn through household surveys. Houses with 15 people have 2 beds, and some subsistence farming families only have one hoe. I can't even imagine trying to plant enough maize to feed a family for an entire year using one hoe. There are no tractors, no horses to pull ploughs, and no local markets to supplement failed crops. In Malawi- climate change and poverty means hunger. Nkhata Bay has been deemed Food Secure according to the World Food Programme (WFP) and the Malawi Vulnerability Assessment Committee (MVAC). This means that the people marking ‘hungry season’ on their seasonal calendars and already eating one meal a day will not receive food aid this year. The research we are conducting- mentioned briefly here – is an attempt to prove that there is already hunger and that if WFP and MVAC do not supply food – people will not survive. We hope in the next week to wrap up and analyze our findings, which will then be shared in a plea to bring food aid to Nkhata Bay. The climate is changing and it is being felt daily and massively in Malawi and in the villages which we serve. I hope that in years to come people can learn the value planting trees and the power of drought resistant agriculture. For now, I just hope to mitigate its impacts through the simple task of giving voiceless villagers a chance to be heard- and that maize will be deliver to get them through the coming year.
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Since all of my posts have been a bit depressing... I figured it was time for a slightly more jovial story. Today’s piece is the adventure of trying to find a house in Mzuzu. To begin the saga- there are no realtors or local newspaper s where houses are listed, so we had to literally ask everyone we met if they knew of a house for rent. Malawians in their friendly nature were more than confident that a house would soon be found, but it seems that blind optimism is not enough to make houses magically appear. Then one day we were told to get into the truck, with no idea where we were going. We arrived, walked around the compound a bit, looked at the boy’s quarters in the back, only to discover that this was a place that may be for rent... then the people living there came out and informed us that it was still occupied and that they had no intention of moving anytime soon – so just as awkwardly and confused as we were when we arrived, we left. Malawian houses are made of brick or cement blocks, tin roofs, and cement floors. The size varies for social class but the design is always the same. Due to a lack of skilled labor and architectural design – houses have limited building material and bland floor plans. Two story houses are near to impossible to find, siding or shingles are rare, and wood is only used to decorate ceilings or door frames. Thus, we were not too picky on what our house looked like, because no matter what we would only get slight variance on the same thing. The sole guidelines were that it should be in safe/quite part of town, have a walled compound for security, and have functional electricity/water. Still, even with the bar set fairly low, we struggled. Then, after about three months of living in the office (in a room about the size of a freshman dorm with zero privacy as staff would come in at 6 am on Saturdays or stay on weekdays till 9pm), a neighbour came to say that he had found a place we could rent. We literally ran to the landowner’s house (just one compound away) and asked to see the place. Within 24 hours it was officially ours- after fixing some minor items first. Turned out those slight fixes were more of a complete overhaul on the place – fresh paint, new bathroom fixtures, new cabinets... I am not complaining that the house got an upgrade- but it took three weeks till the landlord felt comfortable handing over the keys. Then, we needed the company truck to move our furniture and the stove over- so we spent another two weeks waiting for a chance to use the car between staff trips to the field. If you’re counting, we are now up to 4 months living in the office waiting for a house. Claustrophobic and desperate, I decided that once the furniture was in the back of the truck there is nothing it could do except get us moved in. So George and I started packing the truck, and decided we would ask for forgiveness later. Finally, we moved out of our cramped office/bedroom and into a spacious house complete with five bedrooms, three baths, and an echoing living room. Our front yard is terraced with fruit trees and tropical palms, we have space to begin planting our garden, the garage is perfect for circuit workouts, and we have privacy – I can wear shorts and hang my underwear on the clothesline without worry about breaking cultural norms. However, having a house proves to create a whole new set of problems. One- there is literally nothing in it and it has taken about another two weeks to get the truck long enough to bring over furniture from the office and to pick some households items from town. In fact, for the first two weeks we ate every meal standing at the kitchen counter and had guests sleeping on the floor while bed frames sat in stores at the office. Also, while our house is lovely, it is all uphill to get to- and about a 50 minute walk from the office which means leaving way too early and getting home way too late. City centre is another 30 minutes further down the hill– thus, walking to the market can take up to 3 hours round trip (making grocery trips exhausting and back breaking). It really is a sight to see -the local Mzungu (white people) loaded down like pack mules – We each have a backpack full of fruits and vegetables, George with the staple food items in one bag and me balancing eggs and bananas on my head (hoping my Malawian woman skills hold up). Of course the locals think it is hysterical and we often get women and children yelling hello and asking what we are doing. In Chitumbuka they say -‘Where is your car?’ ‘The white woman can carry things on her head?’ Then the children try their best English- ‘Hello, bye, hello, bye, bye, give me banana.’ On top of that, the house is still not fixed – 90 % of the outlets do not work, the hot water heater is broken, and the stove flips the breaker if you use all the burners at once. This wouldn’t be such a massive issue if plumbers and electricians were available. The first two weeks in the house were spent waiting for the mythical plumber to come see why the water was not heating up. Eventually, after several ‘I’ll come tomorrow’s’ from the Temwa recommended plumber, I decided to once again take matters into my own hands. So, I walked around the hardware market asking for a plumber. I was then led to a young man whose father was a plumber and assure me that they would come Monday morning- problem solved.... Until they arrive at 7am on Monday and told us ‘Your hot water heater is broken you need a brand new one’... Still, we have a house, a cavernous empty house, but a house none the less. We will plant the seeds we got from Dawn this weekend, there are plans for some murals to fill the empty walls, and Chitenje’s have been purchased to add a little African color to the place. So we will nest and have braais and it will a great place to make a home- at least for the 9 months that we have left. |
Bonnie HarveyCurrently working in northern Malawi as Programs and Evaluations Coordinator for Temwa Archives
June 2019
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