Spirit of '76

The sky is rather brooding this morning, low-slung grey clouds rumbling over the Zambezi Floodplains. We had been dry for the previous two weeks, but the past few days has seen a return of clouds and intermittent rain. The farmers in the Conservation Agriculture (CA) project curse this weather, as their maize has largely matured and is drying down on the stalks; any rain at this stage adds to rot. However, it doesn't hurt those within and without who planted late (after Christmas), or planted those tough old African standbys, sorghum, pearl [bulrush] millet, and bambara nuts.

The weather is ominous for more than its implications on the farmers; they seem to reflect the times. The Barotse National Council (BNC) has been meeting just north of Mongu in Limilunga [the traditional seat of the Litungu] the past two days; last night at 18:00 hrs., they finally stepped up to the plate and swung for the proverbial fences when they released what amounts to a Declaration of Independence.

The mood on the street was uncommonly quiet, even for a normal evening in Mongu (they never even unrolled the sidewalks here). No beeping, no shouting; however, that seems in line with how the BNC wants it. They seem enormously wary of repeating the violence of 14 January, 2011; from what I've heard, quiet is what the patriots want, i.e. they intend for a non-violent struggle for the nonce so they have time to negotiate a transitional government, put their case forward to the United Nations, etc.  I overheard this from a couple of Barotse Royal Establishment (BRE) members at the Country Lodge while nursing a pair of Mosi's and watching Chelsea stumble through the early stages of the UEFA tournament. The also claim to want no more than what is now Western province.

I am in one of the most confused moods of my life. I finally started my dream job in the country and with the people I love almost as I do my own; that love is in no small part due to the graciousness, courtesy, and love of peace exhibited by the rural people I've met throughout Zambia. However, last night, this part of the country decided that the same country be split in twain. The dream of a peaceful plural (multi-tribal) nation may come to crashing halt.

Whatever comes of it, there will still be poor farmers scratching in the dirt with the specter of hunger lurking over them; fundamentally, my work doesn't change. It just might get harder ...