January 16th, 2016 - Not a viable field

This blog represents the views of the author's alone, and does not represent the views of his employer, Concern Worldwide.

News from the World of Maize:

Over the past few days, I hosted a friend of mine who works in southwestern Zambia and northern Malawi. He clued me in to some of the bits of information:

1. Maize stocks in Malawi are at spectacularly low levels ... he revealed a date of March 4th as the proverbial D-Day. I did a bit of digging online and FEWSNET has the following concurrence Currently food insecure populations in 12 districts spanning parts of the southern and northern regions are receiving assistance. Response programming to these areas and an additional 13 districts have enough funding for implementation through February 2016. Assistance originally planned for the month of March 2016 is uncertain due to a remaining 25 percent funding shortfall
2. It was interesting the deadline of March, which is keyed to the availability of direct budgetary aid, something which the Malawian government relies on to a greater extant that most countries in the region, a by-product of not being blessed [cursed] with mineral or other resources of the extraction variety. Part of what R. said got me trolling through the web; it appears that Malawi's President Peter Mutharika is under pressure to accept donor aid, particularly from DFiD, with some strings attached, namely that Malawi decriminalizes homosexuality. This has caused quite a stir in what I consider a significantly more conservative country than Zambia. According to the BBC, a moratorium was enacted on the laws, but full repeal of the law is a huge issue of realpolitik for Mutharika, who risks incredible backlash on the issue against both himself and threatened recrimination against the LGBT community. 
3. This has been accompanied by a steady rise of maize prices on the market (as is the case in Zambia) that has not been helped by the suspension of sales from ADMARC, Malawi's parastatal [government-run] agriculture marketing board which is by the largest buyer and seller of maize in the country. This has been exacerbated by the theft of maize by local ADMARC officers.

This morning, four hours after we parted ways, he sent this he sent this chilling text as he drove through Southern Province:

"Country is f***ed, not one viable maize field from Maz[abuka] to Choma, brutal!"

11 January 2016 - 30 Days to Go

The views expressed on this blog are those of the author along, and do not reflect the views of his employer, Concern Worldwide.

Happy New Year's! You patient and erstwhile readers ... 

My last day of work for Concern Worldwide Zambia is 29th January, and I have a plane ticket home booked on the 10th February. Goodbye, Zambia after 12 years. As such, I made a solemn oath to myself to write a blog post and journal entry every day, if for nothing else to remember sometime in the dim and likely more brutal future what I was experiencing these last few weeks. 

It is strange; in some ways, the process of disengaging oneself from a place and a context of cultures (Lozi, Tonga, Kaonde, Lala, Indian, White African, Chinese, ex-pat, et cetera) is that you run through the process of engagement, albeit in reverse. Maybe it's the odd way my mind works ... but separating yourself from what everyday amateur sociologists refer to as a "space" brings you back up the path from where that space was normal. E.g., you start to shed your expectations / assumptions of how people behave, how the world should work, how to begin and end things, how to speak with someone, and so on. In my case, I have become far less stressed and far more forgiving because there is an end (at least here) to the crazy results-based tilt-a-whirl that you climb on in the donor-funded development world. On the 29th, I will climb off, handover the reins to my replacement, and have 12 days to blink and think, and to wonder to myself, as I do over most of my memories ... Was it all real? Did I do that? How did I do that? What happened to all those people? Did I make a difference? Will they remember me? 

Unfortunately, deep pondering is something I can little afford whilst trying to sell my worldly possessions (mainly a car, a bicycle, and a bookshelf), handing over 12 years of agroecological experience, and looking for a new job in my soon-to-be new home, Washington, D.C. Hence the necessity and the catharsis ingrained in typing these things out ... it's 20-40 minutes where part of me steps back and views the passage of this vessel through this life, and marks somewhat cohesively which course it chose and why.

Outside of my head, we traveled en-masse from Lusaka to Mongu in one of the agency's Land Cruisers yesterday, leaving at 8:20a and arriving at 5:20p (17:20hrs). Along the way, it started raining west of Kaoma, and it rained intermittently for the rest of the journey. Mongu is a lovely place when it rains; the sandy streets and shoulders of the main roads flatten out and become hard enough to walk upon easily; the air clears of its load of dust and soot, and the grass! Oh, does it grow ... especially in the semi-divinity of the floodplains and along it's margins, the matongo and shishanjo areas.

Before leaving, I took a swipe (pardon the upcoming pun) at what some friends of mine at Grassroots Trust have been promoting and to which I'm slowly signing onto ... the idea that instead of the usual digging operation that is inherent in Zambian weeding cultivation, e.g. "hoeing" or "weeding", you engage in slashing the weeds in the interrow (the space between the lines of maize). I learned this entirely from my friend Sebastian Scott, who like me keeps something of a blog on how to do agriculture in a way that is ultra-conservative of organic matter, inclusive of weed growth. To make a long story short, I intercropped orange maize with black sunnhemp, a heavy nitrogen fixer in our small plot next to our office in Kalundu. Though we've had limited rains in Lusaka, my raking the area into rough terraces and the shade from the trees in the area have helped the maize, and it is surprisingly healthy. Anyway, after watering the little office garden (more on that some other time), I had 30 minutes to slash the sunnhemp down, though  being the total idiot that I am, I neglected to take before (only after) photos.

So what you are looking at is the remnants of the weeds that were before slashing at the same height as the maize. though I am by no means experienced with the one-handed slasher common in Zambia, it was relatively quick to figure out how to slash, e.g. a short swing, standing behind one row of maize and slashing the next, etc. What's left behind is a green mulch that hopefully with contact with the wet soils add a bit of nutrients to the slightly nitrogen deprived maize. More importantly, however, is the increase in light reach the maize leaves vis-a-vi the decrease in shading by plants in the interrow. Last, but not least, I was impressed by the ease of it ... rather than being hunched over hoeing, digging and lifting a blunt piece of dumb iron, I was upright swinging the slasher in short strokes. Noticeably harder on the forearms, but I would trade that any day for the ache in the back, the sore hands, the exhaustion and the time.

Anxious to see how this turns out. 

January 1st, 2016 - A Bleak Start to the New Year

The views expressed on this blog are the author's alone and do not reflect the views of his employer, Concern Worldwide.

Lusaka remains cursed by sunshine on this dawn the New Year in Zambia. Sitting up last night with friends listening to Zambians shooting off fireworks in the revelry, we looked up a sky chock full of stars and reflected on the oddity of that; typically, this time of year is cloudy, gray, cool, rainy, etc. Instead, we've had bright, blue, hot, dry, etc. To this day, I still cannot puzzle out the workings of the ITCZ, but the best I can figure is that current ENSO (el Nino) is holding the zone in a kinked, stable position ... this means that the frontal boundary (for lack of a better word) moist air that brings rain is not moving south from a roughly in a east-west line centered on Kabwe. Though Zambia historically has a increasing rainfall gradient as you move south-to-north, this year it seems to be less of a smooth linear, and rather a sudden step from too dry to too wet; further, the dry areas are mostly in the West and South.

This has piled on to the crummy rainy season those same areas had in 2014/2015 (which I can now safely refer to as "last year's season"). Most of those areas, particularly in Western Province, were long-ago declared "disaster drought" (GRZ, inclusive of nearly every district survey other than Mongu) or "stressed" (in the terminology of FEWSNET). My friends in the southwestern arc of the Upper Zambezi (e.g., Kazangula, Mwandi, Sesheke) along the Botswana and Namibian border told me over the Holidays that there aren't many words left to describe how bad it is there; ominously, their planting rains never really started, so much of their maize is already dead before the V3 stage. Long and short, people are desperately hungry and have been for quite some time; unfortunately, this year seems to be shaping up to be a bad one in both buLozi and buTonga.

Funny enough, no one seems to notice. There's really been nothing in the papers, including the Post, which has turned its back on the "Real PF" and returned to its virulently anti-ruling party roots; nothing from the donor community; nothing from the government outside of what anecdotal evidence suggests is entirely stochastic; nothing from the Barotse Royal Establishment. It's a wall of silence that is deafening in its sheer immensity, behind which despairing people are perched on a precarious cliff of hunger; it's only so much time before the West and South face the full-blown spectre of starvation. Those same people's (at least strong and healthy enough to do so) efforts are fully in engaged in warding off that hunger with any means at hand, meaning the natural environment is taking the worst beating in years. The so-called "Fish Ban", the eponymous policy that forbids capture fishing of wild fish stocks in virtually all forms between December 1st. and March 1st, is now in its second year of being totally, even brazenly, ignored. Charcoal burning is so rampant that finding Julbernardia or Brachestygia specimens of any size within 50km of Mongu is now an impossibility. Logging has increased exponentially within the five years I have been in Western, particularly of the Guibourtia coleosperma (Zambezi rosewood, copalwood, false mopane) ... baulks measuring a meter square and at least 2.5 meters long are being hauled out of the Kalahari woodlands to the main road in at least four places that I observed last month. In that sense, the lack of capital is driving localized environmental degradation that exacerbates any potential global climate change, and kneecaps future generations ability to utilize those same resources.

And the poorer? The poorest? The single female mothers? The elderly raising a household of orphans? I see them each time I go out in the field; their eyes betray the slow panic that is the constant twinge of hunger that is never dissipated and rarely dulled. Waking up dizzy and out of sorts, wondering where to look for some daily labor to try to feed their family, hoping that they can manage the work on the one to three hours of available energy they have, leaving nothing in the tank for tilling their own land. How do you plan in that state? How do you adopt a new technology? And yet they remain, cursed with the Zambian trait of waiting on government, hoping the truck comes their way, hoping they get a food pack.

I distinctly remember the late President Michael Sata declaring early in his presidency that where there was hunger, there could be no justice. It is my fervent hope that the government will recall that statement and see fit to be just.