George and I met with the World Food Programme (WFP) in August 2016 and learned that Nkhata Bay District is considered food secure for the coming 2016-2017 hungry season. This means that no food aid will be provided to the villages in which we work. Temwa is a Non-Governmental Organization (NGO) focused on creating sustainable community development throughout Nkhata Bay North (NBN (TAs: Mbwana, Boghoyo, Mkondowe and Mnyaluanga). Temwa’s programming includes education, health, micro finance, and agriculture/forestry; but it is not a relief organization. However, the 2015- 2016 hunger crisis caused massive disturbances in programming and forced the organization to shift funding into emergency relief initiatives (which is not within the organisation's mission). Knowing that Temwa cannot continue to stray from its mission nor does it have the financial capacity to supply food aid in the coming year – we are working to assure that any organization with the capability to supply emergency relief has all the necessary data needed to do so. Thus, in an effort to investigate NBN's food security, we conducted a catchment wide assessment in the month of September. All staff and community partners donated their time collecting data to show that the area is currently struggling with food access and will continue to suffer in the coming months. The compiled data, presented here, is to be shared with the District Agriculture Development Office (DADO), Malawi Vulnerability Assessment Committee (MVAC), WFP, and any other organization interested in learning about the region’s food security. NBN is a remote area with 145 villages stretched along the lakeshore and situated upland along the mountain range. The region is extremely isolated, observable in the map here, due to having no paved roads and limited public transportation options. Some of the main problems facing communities which Temwa has observed are: (1) Chronic shortage of food, often with periods of starvation (2) The highest HIV and AIDS prevalence rate in Malawi (roughly 11%) (3) Low education attainment rates (3) Deforestation, which causes flooding and displacement (4) Only one rural regional hospital which lacks fundamental equipment, staff and medicine (5) Poor infrastructure, people walk or travel by boat (6) Minimal opportunities for employment. Due to having limited time and resources, we adapted MVAC’s and WFP’s Household Economic Approach (HEA) into an expedited assessment highlighting key areas likely to determine if the is food insecure. For the purpose of distinguishing true food security variances; we split NBN into two livelihood zones- Upland: Njiri, Chikwina, Bula, Mzghola, Biya, Chipunga, Usingini, Kapimatete; and Lakeshore: Nthembo, Chikale, Mtawa, Mpande, New Salawe, Kondowe, Ruarwe, Nkhutu. In each of the villages, staff conducted 1 focus group, 1 seasonal calendar, and 6-7 household surveys. In total, staff collected 12 Focus Groups, 12 Seasonal Calendars, and 88 Households surveys. Lakeshore Summary “Selling their livestock and household assets in order to earn money to buy food and other wants and needs- People shall also stop paying school fees as the money shall be spent on food only.” – Nthembo Villaga, Nkhata Bay North The lakeshore of NBN is a hard to reach rural area with sandy soils and low agricultural yields. Seasonal calendars from the area show people planting limited crops (maize, cassava, groundnuts, and pumpkins) which are purely rain fed (with no wetland production) and within the same season – December to February. The majority of expenditures (school fees, medical costs, crop inputs cultural dances, holidays) as well as low food stores also fall within the December – February time frame (with some villages expanded the categories from September to March). People work heavily from December to March planting and harvesting staple food items, and are often able to eat green from March – July. Villagers report that there is low water availability from September to November and that the hungry season will begin in early November and run into late March. Throughout the region, access and supply of food, ability to purchase food due to cost, and weak local farming production appear to be three of the largest barriers to food security. Beginning with local food production, when asked what is planted locally- village leaders reported mostly maize and cassava, with only a few areas expanding to groundnuts, rice, and greens. In fact, household (HH) surveys reported that on average, 29% of the food consumption is grown/fished locally compared to 33% purchased and 23% gifted. Looking at the HH level food consumption, people ate fruit on average of less than once per week (.6 times per week), eggs less than once a week (.1 time per week), and meat products almost never (.002 times per week). This shows a diet mostly of nsima (maize and cassava are consumed 6.81 times per week) and locally found greens (5.7 times per week) taken on average of once daily. Amongst the low income wealth class, 38% reported not eating maize at all, while 24% reported for the same for cassava. The lakeshore’s one natural resource, fish, also does not appear to be consistently consumed. Seasonal calendars show windy and cold months which yield less fish. One focus group participant said, ‘In some cold months like this May, June, July, we buy usipa (15 at 1000MK) – it becomes expensive because in this time water becomes cold, hence low usipa and fish at high prices.’ HH surveys show people eating once per day on average during months when fishing is active, but that a majority of local families still have to buy it. In the low income wealth class only 23% of participants reported catching their own fish. Additionally, 55 % of the households surveyed were female headed, and with cultural practices only allowing men to be fishermen- all of these families have to purchase or be gifted locally caught fish. Looking further into food access- one village leader, noted that, ‘If you want to find and buy maize this time you need to do to Nyika or you go to Mzuzu, Bigha, - here we don’t have a place to buy maize’. The lakeshore area of NBN has no central market, only people sporadically going door to door with their small food surpluses. Some shop owners bring in dry goods, but prices are almost doubled to accommodate for the transport costs of getting it there. Local leaders noted that sugar can be found at 1.39 USD per bag, maize is up to 7 USD, and 3 tomatoes are .28 USD. The two ways in and out of the lakeshore villages are by boat once a week (costing 12.50 USD round trip) or road (costing 5.56 USD roundtrip). According to discussions within the village, most people choose to use the road due to cost. However, seasonal calendars show the rainy season happening from November to April making the road dangerous and often impassable. This demonstrates that there is very little food coming into the village particularly during the same months which are marked as the hungry season (November to March). Focus group discussions also noted that the ADMARC stores are low and inconsistent supplies during these times due to the same transport challenges. Some food does make it into the area (through local transport and entrepreneurship) allowing for 36 % of all food consumed locally to be purchased. Across all wealth classes’ people are spending a majority of their money on maize, cassava, and transport. This shows that the people are spending their incomes on purchasing staple food products and getting themselves to trading centres outside of the village. Of those who purchased staples in the last month, HH heads in the low income category reported spending 73% of their income on maize, middle income HH heads spent 43% and high income heads spent 39%. Cassava purchases equalled 29% (low), 20% ( middle) and 9% (high) of the incomes of those who bought this staple. Next, the average income per household and how that income is obtained. The low income HHs make an average of 12 USD per month or 0.40 USD per day with a majority coming from agriculture, fishing, hand crafts, and local labor. Middle income HHs make an average of 40 USD per month or 1.32 USD per day, mostly through fishing, salary, self employment, and selling goods. High income households (mostly comprised of civil servants) make an average of 87.56 USD per month or 2.91 USD per day through salary, self employment, trading, and local labor. “Agricultural inputs are very expensive, hence low yields each year which leads to low income as well.” – Kaprimtende Notably, found across several seasonal calendars is the marking of outmigration. Local leaders said that they rely on their children leaving the village to not only find food for themselves, but to also make money to send back to those who remain in the village. Backing the point, 26% of lakeshore food comes from gifts. For those without the ability to send family members to more productive areas, they reportedly cope through the sale of household assets and livestock. In fact, in all lakeshore focus group discussions people mentioned the selling of assets, often at low costs, as a way local people will feed their families this coming hungry season. However, HH surveys show assets as very low. Households averaged 7.5 people – yet they only have 1 bed frame, 1 table, and approximately 2 chairs. Additionally, people had an average of 2.5 acres, but only 2 garden tools to cultivate. Looking at this information, if outmigration and selling assets are the main coping mechanism for lakeshore families during the crisis, then their chances appear to remain low to have food access. When asked how they think this coming hungry season will differ from the previous year, local leaders were very concerned. One participant said, ‘There will be a high rate of famine compared to last December as many people have harvested all that they had in their gardens.’ The following consequences of the coming famine were noted by local leaders: school drop outs, malnutrition, selling of assets, out-migration, theft, prostitution, weakened labor force, breakdown of family structures, disease, and death. In summation, the lakeshore livelihood zone of NBN, according to the data presented here- currently spend the majority of their income on staples, HHs do not produce enough of their food, have no access to markets, nor do they have enough money to provide food for themselves to fulfil their caloric needs. Reportedly, in past years, the people of the area have managed to scrap by with their limited resources without food assistance from WFP, but with climate change and rainfall patterns shifting – this 2016-2017 hungry season will be devastating to the region. Upland Summary “This year most people did not harvest much because of the bad weather... the availability of food is expected to be very low and the price of food is expected to go up. Thus, the people will suffer from hunger crisis.” – Bula Village/Nkhata Bay The upland livelihood zone of NBN has a majority clay-based soil and higher accessibility to roads than the lakeshore, but still struggles with rurality and poverty. Some people within the region have the ability to create irrigation schemes and produce crops throughout the year (as seen through the seasonal calendars); however, it appears that these individuals are in the minority. According to local leaders, people are already coping with low food access. One leader in Kapirimtende is quoted in saying, “when the supply is low the price is likely to increase at any time. People are already exchanging livestock for maize and cassava. Now- 1 chicken is exchange for 1 bag of cassava.” The barriers to food security in the upland region of NBN are food consistency, poverty, and market access. First, through seasonal calendars, it can be seen that the amount of time in which people are eating a diversity of food is very low. People within the area are planting a diversity of food (maize, cassava, beans, potatoes, etc) however the time in which they are consuming these foods are very brief and inconsistent. Seasonal calendars show that the only fruit people eat are mangos (October – early December), green vegetables are taken for three months (June-August), and beans appear to be the only consistent protein found locally- available beginning in late Februrary. Food consumption calendars from the villages also demonstrate a bell-curve of food access where it is highest in the winter months but very low from September to late-February (Appendix – Njiri Village). Still, further, according to household surveys, the average HH size is 6.7, consuming 36.48% of total caloric intake through one’s own production, compared to 48.75% being procured through wages. This can be broken into two factors- not everyone in the upland is large-scale farmers, and the crops from the 2016 planting season did not produce well. Because of this, 71% of surveyed HHs reported purchasing maize in the last month, and low income HHs spending 53% of their income on maize. Middle and high income HHs who purchased maize spent 52% and 34% of their incomes respectively. According to one local leader, “This year most people didn’t harvest much because of the bad weather conditions as such they will not have enough food to take them to a longer period.” Considering wealth class expenditures, HHs in the upland zone are spending a majority of their money on maize and transport. A main challenge in upland villages of NBN is market access. When looking at seasonal calendars from the area, people marked ‘food waste’ happening from the time of harvest (June) to the first rains (November). In order for food from the remote villages of NBN to reach market in Mzuzu for sale, it can cost farmers the following for just one trip: 2,400 MK from Chikwina, 3,500 MK from Kasasile, and 2,400 MK from Manyenyenzi. Additionally, for a village such as Kasasile, there is no local transport which means that farmers must hire private motorbikes or bike taxis which also adds large amounts of time to their daily schedules. Local seasonal calendars show that middle income farmers are spending a majority of their year preparing for planting, making beds, weeding, irrigating, and harvesting- this means that going to distant markets (upwards of 45 KM) takes away from much needed time in the fields. "People will adapt to the hunger crisis by... eating foods which are not normal, doing piece work, and other have already started moving to other places such as South Africa to secure jobs. –Njiri Village Still further, as is seen in the lakeshore zone, many people migrate out of the area during the hungry season in search of piece work and food. Calendars show people migrating out after harvests in July/August and only returning to help families plant in December. Local leaders report that there is simply no other option, and the outmigration (mostly of youth) allows for money to be sent back to those remaining in the village. Looking at other coping mechanisms, in Chipunga village local leaders noted that people will get food through selling assets, selling livestock, and making more charcoal for sell. Trees are a massive local asset; however, these are also in danger of being cut down for charcoal and timber sales if people are desperate for food. According to local leaders, the area is already full of bags of charcoal waiting along the roadsides, and more trees are being cut daily in desperation. This will only add to the local challenges surround climate change as deforestation causes countless future disturbances to the local agricultural community. Layered with the challenges of poverty, the upland region of NBN is very high in elevation – causing cold winter months. Local leaders cited pneumonia happening in the middle maize harvests. In fact, compared to the lakeshore calendars – upland leaders mentioned a wider variety of diseases (Pneumonia, dysentery, typhoid, cholera, malaria, cough,etc) which occur more sporadically and at greater frequency throughout the year. This layers into the challenge of foods security as a cyclical problem of poor health, under nourishment, and large quantities of labor time being lost. In New Salawe a leader is quoted as saying, “Hunger amongst the communities will reduce and weaken labor forces.” In summation, a portion of the upland livelihood zone HHs do demonstrate more of the food security which WFP and MVAC reported seeing in their initial trip to the area last April than that of the lakeshore. However, looking extensively at a larger picture of the area – the data shows that the region is not full of successful large-scale farmers, but rather struggling subsistence families. Again, like the lakeshore, with normal weather conditions the people of the area find ways to adapt and make ends meet. This year however, with the climate challenges, late rains, and extensive flooding – the people of the upland in NBN have not fared well. Thus, it can be seen through the data presented here that people are struggling in the upland livelihood zone and will only continue to endure more in the coming months. Summary As the food crisis looms, it is clear to see that it has already started in the remote areas of NBN and according to those living there, it will only get worse. Based on the observations and occurrences described in both the upland and lakeshore livelihood zones, trends show poor agricultural yields, disproportionally high costs and poor supply of staple foods compared to average incomes, a high percentage of food consumption being supplied through gifts (26% of total lakeshore consumption), less than optimal caloric and nutritional intake, predictions of increased food shortage, starvation and unnecessary death along with negative coping mechanisms such as not sending children to school or attempting to move abroad. More telling is the percentage of people currently purchasing maize and the amount of one’s income that is being expended. Of those surveyed in the upland region, 71% reported purchasing maize and those purchases amounted to an average of 47% of their income. This is despite farming being the most prevalent means of earning an income. The same occurrence came be seen in the lakeshore zone, as 73% surveyed indicated having to purchase maize, accounting for an average of 43% of one’s income. More alarming is that fact that the average lakeshore HHs is spending more on maize that upland HHs (avg,11,208 MK vs. 15,321 MK) but eating half as often (.93 per day compared to 1.75 per day). In low income lakeshore HHs, people reported eating maize every other day, while taking up 79% of purchaser’s income. A significant portion (38%) of low income HHs reported not eating maize at all. To cope with the shortage of maize, It was the original impression of the principal investigators that lakeshore HHs would consume cassava at higher rates, but this not the We believe that both the upland and lakeshore should be separately reassessed to determine the food security threshold of the respective areas. Although their livelihood outcomes are intertwined due to geography, the two prescribed livelihood zones have their own specific challenges and current disproportionate levels of food insecurity.
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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.
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. Transportation conveniences, or inconveniences, are the direct product of social class. No matter where you live- the same income based models appear to be followed. People of low-income are reliant on inconsistent bus schedules, high taxi fares, and the excruciating amount of time it takes to get anything done without your own car. Middle income allows for the comfort of a car (or two). However, gas prices are closely watched and engine trouble could result in some dipping into savings. The upper incomes are allowed to buy and use cars, planes, trains, or (in Portland’s case) bikes. In America this system causes a degree of envy, as public transportation is a luxury only found in cities and car commercials make it impossible to forget what you cannot afford. In Malawi, however, the transportation class schemes are accepted and fixed. Accepted to the point that people appear to acknowledge their allocated transport level, and fixed in that a lack of a credit system dictates no other option. Many of our co-workers live far from the office, upwards of 10-15 kilometres away. One catches a bike taxi to the main road, a minibus to the city center, then a taxi to the office. When his finances are low he wakes up earlier and walks. This is his life, he hates spending the money, but that is just what he has to do. The fact that his boss has a car, comes from the same side of town, and could pick him up... was never even considered. I, however, am told that I “could not manage” and will often get hitches as Malawians feel bad that I am going below my class and walking. I, in the eyes of the Malawian, am somehow less capable to live the low-income life. Transportation is also the direct result of the government who controls it. The President of Malawi will be coming to Nkhata Bay for a visit, and so the road is being paved. In fact, people say that if you want your road paved – invite the President to visit. It seems that the proverbial ‘red carpet’ is laid out for those who have the power to make it happen. There are just two paved roads going North to South in the country (the M1 and the M2) then as the roads weave out into the villages there is nothing but dust or clay mud to welcome you. Additionally, those without cars are not even given a bike lane or a sidewalk. I would estimate that 90 % of the population walk or bike, yet there is no way to assure their safety. Countless road accidents are the direct result of a lack of infrastructure, and the victims are almost always the have-nots. Then there is the transportation never capitalised on, Malawi has the third largest lake in Africa- in fact the country extends along it and was once named after it (Nyasaland – lake land). However, the number of non-wooden/functional boats can probably be counted on one hand. There are ‘wato’ or large hollowed out tree logs which are patched with metal, often needing bailed out with plastic buckets, and they seem to only stay upright with extreme balance. This is how low-income people catch fish as well as transport goods and people to nearby villages. The most unfortunate part of these tippy canoes is that a majority of their owners have never received a single swimming lesson and fatalities from drowning are reportedly high. Next there are timber-wooden boats (all seemingly made by one company out of Monkey Bay in the Southern part of Malawi) which can go 3-4 hours along the lake carrying 5x’s their capacity. These boats also tend to flood, a fact which is even scarier as a sunken ship would take many more victims to the bottom of the lake. Lastly, there is the one large passenger boat (Chilembwe) which recently replaced the steam boat (Ilala) which travelled the lake during my Peace Corps service. This boat charges 6 USD to take you quickly along the lake shore villages. However, it is pointless as the efficiency in which it gets to lake shore villages cannot be afford by anyone who lives in them.
Running to the 5 AM boat departure, or haggling with mini bus conductors – it is all part of the experience (part of why I hate overland tourist trucks which make Africa too easy). However, these things which I find quirky and slightly frustrating... are just the tip of the iceberg for seeing what it is like to live every day in a place. As we travel it is important to see and experience this, or else we may miss a large part of the ever day life of others. This is true abroad just as much as it is domestically - ride bikes in Portland, sail along the New England coat, take a subway in New York... this is how we can begin to appreciate the world. I remember in one of my first Anthropology courses we were tasked with mapping out kinship systems. Coming from a large family myself, it took two pieces of paper to draw the intricacies of my complicated tree. In Malawian culture it can be immensely difficult to sort of the interwoven branches of their familial systems as well.In fact, I fear some children would never be able to complete the task. To begin with, your mother's sisters are your 'mothers', and your father's brothers are called 'father'. Then the children along the branch of your 'mothers' and 'fathers' are also your siblings. On the other side, your mother's brothers are your uncles and his children your cousins. This is the same for your father's sisters side falling outside of the immediate structure. Have I lost you yet? Making it even more complex. Many families in the villages are still polygamous (particularly amongst the chiefs) so that layers in second wives and their children. One man I spoke to had three wives and had lost count of his grandchildren altogether. Then, you have inheritance- less common- but in some villages brothers inherit the wives of their deceased brothers. So culturally it can be very difficult, now moving into economics... 1,300,000 children in Malawi are orphans (half expected to be due to AIDS). A whole generation of would-be-parents have been lost to AIDS and other preventable illnesses (malaria, complications during child birth, pneumonia...) This leaves approximately fifty percent of Malawi's population as children. Half of those 6.8 million children will be stunted due to malnourishment and about 30 percent of them will get the chance to go to secondary school (high school). This means Malawi has millions of children being raised by extended family members (mostly grandparents) and with no birth certificate- unlikely to be able to trace their heritage much past their own village compound. On top of that, they are struggling to meet their most basic of needs - food, education - leaving little room for drawing trees or getting themselves out from underneath all the broken branches. On the other side there is some beauty in all of this. It takes a village to raise a child, but it seems that the village steps up to the task. Kids run freely around the foothills of Usisya and have very little to do on the long summer days than practice swimming in the lake or trying to catch some fish in their 'uncle's' boats. This does not mean that their lives are not hard. The young girls bear the weight of carrying water in the mornings, and when planting season comes all hands are called to the fields. But they carry a freedom which has been lost to many American children. In Portland there was a news article questioning if parents should allow their children to be ' free range', and a mother in WV was chastised by police for letting her child bike around the block. Here, however, it seems kids are allowed - if only for a brief amount of time- to be kids. In short, the kinship system here is complex because of the cultural and economic conditions in which Malawians live - and children are tangled up in the game of both having freedom in the moment, yet unstable pasts and unsure futures. I don't know what will become of any of the children in these photos, but I do know that they live on a knife's edge. If only they could have one more year of schooling, one parent back to care for them, one lesson in their ability to be more than what they were given.
2 minutes greeting each person in the office every morning 2 minutes greeting each person in the officer every afternoon 2 minutes wishing everyone safe travels and good night after work 1 hour- the allotted amount of time that people are late for meetings 45 minutes reading the newspaper while you wait for the meeting to begin. 3-5 days - the amount of time meetings get delayed due to unplanned other meetings. 2-3 weeks for documents to get completed due to delayed meetings. 1 month - the amount of time it takes to get an all staff meeting for the introduction of google calendar to help with the failed meetings 3 months to find fresh milk in Mzuzu 1 week waiting for the milkman to deliver milk 30 seconds - the amount of time it takes to miss the phone call from the milkman who is passing by the house 2 weeks (so far) waiting again for the milkman to deliver milk 45 minutes to walk to the market 1 hour to walk to various shops to get everything you need to eat for three days (vegetable market, meat market, bakery, mzungu market...) 45 minutes to walk back from the market 3 days before we need to walk back to the market for more food 5 hours to get the capital for NGO meetings 3 hours to go to Usisya by road for Area Development Council meetings 3 more hours to get from Usisya to Mtawa village fo AIDS support group meetings 1 hour to get to the District Office for meetings 1 month for a letter to make it across the ocean 2 months for a package to make it across the ocean 1 week to eat all of the chocolate which was in the package, 2 weeks with a little willpower 24 hours to take a flight from US to Malawi 2 months to find a house to live in in Mzuzu 1 month to wait (so far) for the house to be fixed up for living in. 10 months to get settled in the house before another 24 hour flight back across the ocean. 1 year to hopefully create sustainable development ... as long as African Time doesn't get in the way too much. Africa, as a continent, has lots to offer tourists from the Western World- Breathtaking landscape, miles of games reserves full of large wild animals, tropical climate, culture, art, affordable pricing ... Malawi, while it does have all of these things, cannot seem to get itself into the game. South Africa gets roughly 9 million tourist annually, Malawi only about 700,000. Yes, it is a smaller country; but it is safer, more affordable, and the people are amazingly accommodating. In fact, they will give you directions even if they do not know the way. One challenge is that the only successful businesses I have found are owned by expats, and when turned over to locals- they always seem to drop two or three stars in quality. I do not blame the Malawians for this, but rather the expats that leave a business to people with no concept of how to run it properly, and the government for not training entrepreneurship or business in its schools. How is someone supposed to make a budget without getting past standard six in school, or accommodate the needs of Westerners without understanding the level of luxury which they are accustomed to? I recently travelled to Nkhata Bay and found the lodges which I frequented in my Peace Corps days were either no longer running or run down. A once safe and vibrant volunteer lodge was opening the door to drunk beach boys who hassled us to smoke weed with them and buy them drinks. Another one was completely closed after the owner moved back to her home country. I heard from locals that it went through several owners after she left- each one less qualified than the one before - and eventually just stopped running altogether. The only functional lodges and restaurants I saw were still in the hands of expats, who are fantastic people, but shows just how little Malawians get to benefit for the beauty of the land they were born on. Even the game reserves, where simply having hippos and lions sells itself, don't seem to be able to stay afloat. Vwaza Marsh, has changed ownership four times in the last six years and seems to barely do well enough to pay the guards. Additionally, all of the game reserves are under constant threat of poachers- due to the inability to have enough rangers or outreach programs to keep the reserves protected. So, even those places where the animals are- may one day cease to have that because of poor management. There are some game reserves doing well (mostly in the South) but they are once again run by the expat community. The only Malawians that do benefit from tourism seem to be the artists. There are many fantastic people in Malawi who paint, make wood carvings, or sow clothing from local fabric. All of these things are very labor intensive, but they can bring in more money than most jobs in Malawi could ever provide. The shame is that these artists have very few venues through which they can get their products to tourists. In Mzuzu there is no culture or art market so the artists hang out by the fancy grocery store and hassle any mzungu they see passing by. They are not bad people, they do not wish to beg or steal money, they just want to sell some art so that they can buy food or pay their children's school fees. On the other hand, if they were to learn salesmanship and be provided with a space which tourists could browse freely- then they could be self-sustaining and respected for the craftsmen they are. I remember in Ghana I went to several markets which were full or artists making Kente Cloth or wood carvings. They were in the Lonely Planet books, visited by thousands of tourists annually, and became sustainable in tourism economies. So what is Malawi to do? How can the people of Malawi begin benefiting from the one obvious resource they have - tourism?
'There was an accident'... 'hurry, they are bringing the boy'... 'Crocodile'... These are the words I remember hearing when I was a Peace Corps Volunteer at Usisya Health Centre in 2010. 'My translation has be wrong, there aren't crocodiles in Usisya'...Moments later I see a man running and carrying a small boy screaming in pain. Malawian children rarely cry, so the sound was both unfamiliar and terrifying. When you hear someone crying in so much pain your heart starts racing and your mind immediately begins searching for solutions. Should I go get the ambulance driver, should I offer my assistance... Helpless, and with no real skills which could help, I sat at my house and waited- if I was needed I would be called. Even the staff at the clinic could do little more than basic first aid - tie a tourniquet and get the ambulance ready. The district office could never seem to keep a doctor at the clinic for more than a few weeks, no one with money wanted to live in a rural village without electricity or a market. So, without any real medical training all they could do was load the boy in a Land Cruiser-turned ambulance and begin the 3 hour journey to Mzuzu Central Hospital. Later, I heard the boy survived, but the details of how he came to be attacked by a crocodile were lost in translation. Until recently, we were interviewing Temwa beneficiaries and met the boy, Robert, who was now a teenager. He lost his leg that day and now has a prosthetic which you can't see under his school uniform. I wouldn't even have known he was missing the limb except for the slight limp he has as he runs back to class after our conversation. He told us how he lost his leg... He was fishing by a river, about an hours walk south of Usisya Health Center, when the crocodile came out of the water and grabbed him by the leg. Luckily some men were around and grabbed the young boy's arms. Robert then became the rope in a human tug-of-war as the men and crocodile both pulled for the life of the boy. Luckily the men won and quickly ran him to the clinic. He then remembers going to Mzuzu where they had to amputate the leg because they told him there was no way to reattach it. I don't know if his leg would have been saved had there been a doctor in Usisya, but it was fantastic to learn that the boy managed to make it this far in life. Robert is now 17, in the 12th grade, and lives with his uncle in Luvu Village. He just finished writing exams and hopes to pass with high marks so that he can one day become a doctor. He said that the day he lost his leg he saw what doctors can do to save lives and he wants to do the same for the people of Malawi. However, he cannot afford to go to college, he wouldn't even be finishing school now if it weren't for Temwa paying his school fees (about 15$ USD a term), and because of the hunger crisis he is only eating one meal a day (which is just nsmia and small fish). While he survived the attack, life in the village is difficult and poses new challenges with each passing day. But today he is full of dreams and future plans. Robert hopes to one day own a bike so that he can get around better and people wont notice his limp as much. He also plans to become an entrepreneur and save the money needed to become a doctor by selling fish at a shop in Nkhata Bay. It is inspiring to see a young man with so little, have so much hope for his future. I hope he will find the funds to go to college, and that he will become the doctor he dreams to be. Try can recall the last time you were really hungry, a time when your stomach grumbled and you used the phrase ‘I’m starving’... I remember when I was a kid we were on a road trip and got stuck in traffic for hours- My family was so hungry that we searched the back seat for a Twinkie which one of us recalled seeing the day before. Eventually, the traffic cleared and we found one of those low-scale buffet places which allowed us ‘all you can eat’ relief. Yes, we have been ‘hungry’ but could we ever really understand ‘hunger’? We can kind of picture it, or rather what we think it looks like. We’ve seen the commercials with skinny children and an ungodly amount of flies, or the National Geographic images of people raiding trucks with bags of maize and flour on top of it ... but this is not the actual picture of daily hunger. In fact, you cannot actually see hunger, at least not on the surface. The people of Malawi do eat food. They eat pounded corn flour which is cooked into a playdough like paste- which they eat so that they can know the feeling of being full. In fact, it belongs in the ‘Chakulya Chakutukhira’ the ‘Food Group the Fills You’ category. There is no nutritional value, no taste, and they eat it for every meal. If they are lucky there are some cooked greens or sardines- flavoured with salt- which can allow for some flavour. The people are not stick thin and they do not fight for scraps. The corn flour keeps them at a size which would look normal to our eyes. Here, famine is not the complete absence of food – it is the constant daily struggle to feel full So, what does it look like? In Usisya it is the mother who has to give her children medicine which says ‘take with food’, only giving it without food because they’ve already had their daily ration. It is the Form 4 student who has to sit in classes all day without having eaten any food since lunch the previous day- because he lives with 15 other people and there is only enough for all of them to have 1 meal a day. It is the women who sacrifices seeing her children grow up- so that they may live with a family member who has the means to feed them and put them through school. People living in hunger spend most of their day working to get food. They have stories and lives which are horrific and heart breaking. Their daily reality is challenging and an uphill battle every single day. But there is also happiness and light in their lives. I once read somewhere – ‘does accepting happiness negate the sadness which one is supposed to feel? ’ The reality is that people living in hunger are also just like you. They celebrate births and weddings. The teenagers are moody, the children are goofy, the elders complain about the weather. The biggest thing I have learned is that hunger is not the absence of life- it is life which, unfortunately, is more challenging. Do not pity the people of Malawi, but rather acknowledge them and respect the fact they work every day to simply achieve that which life has given you with little effort – clean water, a full stomach, and security in the future.
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Bonnie HarveyCurrently working in northern Malawi as Programs and Evaluations Coordinator for Temwa Archives
June 2019
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