When VIPs Came To Town

It isn't a very common occurance to get someone from a government office to visit any of my projects, let alone the projects of villagers themselves: there isn't enough time, fuel, people, etc.  So when we recently had a visit by the District Commissioner (the top ranking government official in Mufumbwe District) and the Department of Agriculture and Cooperatives Officer (DACO) for the the district come to visit my site to see the work that I've been putting in with my community members.  A visit like this was kind of a big deal.

The District Commissioner, in yellow, was really excited and interested in the work of the local women's group to build their own fish pond.  Here, Mrs. Fubisha, in the pink hat, is explaining the work that they've completed so far to construct their pond.

The District Commissioner came to our community specifically to see the fish ponds that we've begun establishing about a mile and a half from my village.  She also wanted to see the bicycle plow that Mr. Nshimbi and I have been working on over the past year.

She was really excited that the women were wanting to better their lives through fish farming, because fish farming can improve income and food security in our community.

She was so impressed by the fish pond that the women's club I work with is building that she bought them two shovels to use in the final construction phase of their pond.  She also charged the DACO with the task of finding and delivering a wheelbarrow for them to use for the last bit of pond construction.

Both the DC and the DACO were really interested to see the bicycle plow. 

After viewing the fish ponds and discussing them with the community members we took her to use the bicycle plow in a nearby field.  She was really interested in the plow and kept saying how impressed she was by its ease of use.  She also kept saying that "this technology needs to be shared with more people."  

She later said that efforts like this will go a long way in helping rural farmers throughout Mufumbwe District to better their lives.

Hopefully efforts like this will go a long way to putting our community of Kamabuta more on the government's radar as far as helping the people in the future.  Every little thing can help.  Ultimately though it was an enormous honor for the people I work with to get a little bit of recognition and a visit from two of the highest ranking government officials in our district.

I've tried many times to get government officials from some of the varying agencies to come and work with my community, but her visit was by far the best.  Not only did it happen, but she's a very important and busy woman.

From You, To Me, To Them

Last month I received a box of 50 mosquito nets from the local health outpost.  It only took 3 and a half months for the nets to arrive after I had first requested them, but after all that time I at least had them (I originally requested 150, but resources here are scare, so I had to settle).

The nets had to be picked up by using my bicycle from the local health outpost.  About 2.5 miles away.

I originally wanted the 150 nets so that I could distribute them to my village and the next 6 or 7 closest villages, but with only 50 nets I had to settle for my village and the neighboring 2.

I was happy to see US tax dollars put to work through the purchase of these nets.

Although the nets came from the Zambian Government's Ministry of Health they were purchased for distribution by the United States Agency for International Development, which helps to subsidize the costs of malaria medicines, HIV/AIDS medications and training sessions, as well as these mosquito nets - amongst many other things.  Without the support of this agency and the American taxpayer many public health projects around the globe would never be able properly operate.  USAID's slogan is "From the American People."  These nets were essentially from you, to me, to them.  

I had a community meeting / demonstration for my village and the 2 neighboring villages where I distributed the nets.

The distribution program that I used the nets for was actually thought up by a neighbor of mine, Jarrod. He has two young children and was worried that malaria would make them ill during the upcoming rainy season, so he asked if we could do some malaria education and pass out nets.  I said, "Absolutely."  Malaria kills an enormously high percentage of children in Zambia, especially those between 1 to 5 years of age, and I desperately want to curb that in some way - even if that's only in my small village.

People were taught how to mend torn nets and how to properly hang the nets inside their homes.  My neighbor Amy, a new health volunteer, helped to teach the hanging portion of the program.

The program was pretty straight forward.  I invited people from 3 villages (especially mothers of small children) and had them come to learn how to mend torn nets, hang the nets, and tuck them under their mattresses to prevent mosquitos from entering as they sleep.

Volunteers like this woman, Dorini, helped to clarify any questions that people had about their nets.

After the program each member of a household received one mosquito net.  I wrote down their names, number of children, and which village they lived in.  After a week I will check to make sure the net is properly hung and being used in the home.  Then after 3 months I'll do a second follow-up visit where if the net is still being used correctly I'll take their photo, print it, and post it at the local health center as a kind of "wall of fame."

Little Lukatazho

There’s a little boy here in my village that I decided one night I just had to write about. His name is Justin Kyumisha and he’s 6 years old, but I have nicknamed him Lukatazho, which in the local language, Kaonde, means “problem.”

I’ve dubbed him this because after my first two months in the village I noticed he was constantly filthy, rambunctious without fail, and his pants — his pants — were always falling down or on backwards, or both. But he was sporting a big smile every minute of every day.

Very rarely do I ever see Lukatazho sad or down.  Usually he's showing his teeth in a big grin.

Getting to know him more, I’ve found that the kid is just wild. Not in a bad way, but in the kind of way a kid should be, and because of this he’s easily one of my favorites in the village.

Now well into my second year, there are still kids that are terrified of me, as in they go out of their way to avoid seeing me — but not little Lukatazho.

He does what he wants, when he wants. He loves to wander into my hut while I’m writing and stand there, well inside my personal space, staring at the pictures above my desk. He’s not much taller than the desk, so the pictures are about the only things he can really see. But, he’ll stand there for as long as I’ll let him — just looking.

Other times, his willingness to go his own way causes problems.

For instance, the other day his mom ordered him to take a bath. Instead of using clean water, he walked to the nearby well and began bathing in the runoff water from that, which had collected in a muddy hole.

I wish I knew why I like him so much, but I don’t. When I think about he and I we’re really not alike at all. I’m 21 years older, we can barely communicate to one another (he speaks no English and I speak broken, rudimentary Kaonde) and he even makes my job more difficult. He’s a whirlwind of destructive force.

Repeatedly I’ve seen him rip up by their roots seedlings that I’ve planted with the community for no other reason than enjoyment. He’s a little devil, a little problem, but for some reason we get along and I still like the kid.

This picture almost perfectly sums up my relationship with Lukatazho... as I'm trying to write he comes up to me without regard for what I'm working on and does what he does best - anything he wants.

In fact, I like him so much that we recently made up a handshake. I figure what 6-year-old doesn’t enjoy a good secret handshake? 

Having him around, though, is a constant reminder of how hard, even cruel, life can be here. Not only does Lukatazho sport a big smile, but he also sports a big swollen belly — the kind that comes from malnutrition.

That malnutrition has lead to his physical stunting. And due to this malnutrition his body is slow to fight off illnesses.

In February, Lukatazho nearly died from being infected with malaria. He spent four days in the local clinic under intense supervision.

When he did return, it was on the back of a bicycle, in a rainstorm, with only a thin cloth to protect him — he looked absolutely miserable. I felt terrible for him, but he was alive.

A few days later he was smiling again and back to his normal antics.

Lately he’s been doing a lot of dancing. He’ll hike his pants way up, put a hand on his hip, and start dancing around — kicking up a storm of dust. All this is done while I’m trying to read during the midday heat, and nearly every time he manages to make me stop reading and laugh.

Whenever I leave this village for good I’ll have a few very special people that I’ll think back upon and know my time here wouldn’t have been so wonderful without. I’ll think of them for years and years I’m sure. Justin “Lukatazho” Kyumisha is one of them.

Although the youngest, the smallest, and the one with the most problems wearing his pants correctly, he’s the one that has made me laugh the most without speaking a single English word.

Mr. Nshimbi And The Bike Plow

This is a video of Mr. Nshimbi, one of my favorite people here, using the bike plow.  Towards the end he's talking about how people will view him as a teacher because he's the first to use the bike plow.

Innovation In The Village

Simply, work in the village is hard. My neighbors, and in truth my co-workers, work for everything they get. They sweat and pour effort into making ends meet, which means keeping poverty at bay for a little bit longer.

It’s something I see every day and at times it can really wear me down. Instead of succumbing to my surroundings through apathy or frustration, I’ve decided to try to bring some innovation to the village and work with those around me to make their lives a little easier.

My flagship project in this effort is an old bicycle that’s been made into a plow for use in cultivating and weeding farmers’ fields and gardens. These two activities are both time consuming and overwhelmingly labor intensive. At some point a strong back and an even stronger resolve are necessary, and even that is eroded away by long, labor-intensive hours in the fields.

This is the first bike plow that we designed.  It wasn't real great, but it was a good start.  It was built for the man on the right, Mr. Sandonji.  He is nearly 80 years old and was having a hard time cultivating his field.

My hope is that the bike plow will gain some traction and start to be adopted by those I work with.

The plow is just a step up from a hoe or shovel, so it’s a simple machine and can be easily understood. I’m not trying to revolutionize farming, just make it simpler.

With the back wheel still attached, the bike frame is overturned and the seat’s replaced with a locally built digging plow or weeding blade. The handlebars are inverted and the user then pushes the plow and goes about their work.

The new bike plow, shown here, is much better than the first.  I took it this day to show and allow my students at Kalende Mission College to use.

I wish I could take credit completely for the idea, but I can’t. Another volunteer passed on the initial idea to me, and I then worked with a Canadian Missionary in my area to build a prototype.

Once we had a design I showed it to 10 farmers for their input, and since then it has been an ongoing cycle of redesigning, retesting and rebuilding. Each model is getting better, and each time we’re growing more confident, more excited that we’re on the right track.

For now, the model we’re using is saving some farmers up to 75 percent on their time in the fields and a large amount in effort, as well as lower back pain.

To gain more insight into improved designs and to drum up interest in the project, I’ve been traveling around with a few farmers to different areas and villages throughout Mufumbwe District to hold demonstrations with the plow.

The demonstrations are pretty informal and laid back. The bike plow is placed out front of the assembled group, and they’re all encouraged to use it in working the land for a few minutes. After everyone has a chance, the request comes for suggestions and design improvements.

Most demonstrations are hands-on.  I like people to use the plow, discuss it, and provide feedback.

And to be honest, for as decent of an initial design as mine was, these farmers have come up with some amazing ideas, the kind that blow mine out of the water. I’m really excited for this project because it’s starting to blossom into something more.

Some of the people I’m working with are not just trying to build their own bicycle plows or give constructive criticism of mine, they’re also looking at other tools and tasks in their daily lives and asking themselves how they too could be improved.

Even if the bike plow turns out to be nothing more than a good idea that never quite worked, I’ll consider it a success if the people that saw it take what they learned at the demonstration, apply it to another item and improve their livelihoods through innovation.

On this day the bike plow was used to make small ridges in four hours in a 50 meter by 50 meter field of peanuts.  To do this by hand can take days and days of manual labor.  The ridges are used to prevent drowning a plant in the field during rainy season.

I doubt innovation of machines will solve all of my community’s problems, but it can’t hurt.

So much of life here is affected by cultural norms and government policy that those seem to have the most sweeping impact. But if life can be made simpler through a bike plow for a handful of farmers, then I’m all for it and I’ll happily check that project off as a success on my list.

All because of a little bit of village innovation.

Harversting Kamabuta's First Fishpond

On August 19th, Mr. Nshimbi (one of my favorite people in the village and surely one of the hardest workers in the area) harvested his fishpond.  It was not only his first time ever harvesting the pond, but it was also Kamabuta's (my community) first ever fishpond.  You see, Mr. Nshimbi built the first fishpond ever in our area.  

Late last November the pond was completed - after a month's worth of digging - but due to resource restrictions we weren't able to locate and transport fingerlings to the pond until the end of January. 

A net is moved through the pond 4 or 5 times to catch the fish.  Some men hold the net high so the fish can't jump over, while others hold it down, which prevents the fish from swimming under.  Mr. Nshimbi is in the water to my right, wearing a brown shirt and white hat.

About six and half months later he wanted to harvest his pond.  I'm an agriculture volunteer, not a fish farming volunteer (PC/Zambia has four programs: health, education, agriculture, and aquaculture).  So, I called two volunteers that specialize in aquaculture to come help myself and Mr. Nshimbi in navigating the dos and don'ts of harvesting a pond.  Without Tom and Ryan's help it would've been a frustrating process... a big thanks to them.

After the fish have been caught in the net they're moved to the center of the net, then dunked into the water to remove excess mud and other debris.  

The whole process is pretty straight forward.  A net is dragged through the pond four or five times and each time the collected fish are removed and placed into buckets.  They're then sorted by size and cleaned off.

After they're taken from the net they're placed into buckets and sorted into varying sizes.  Once they're sorted they are then washed and cleaned up for the next step.

After the fish have been cleaned off they're weighed and sold by the kilogram to interested buyers from the community.  We started at about 7:30 in the morning with partially draining the pond and about six hours later we were finished - the fish had been caught, bagged, and sold away.

In the end Mr. Nshimbi made about $50 from the harvest.  That doesn't seem incredibly high especially when someone takes into account that he spent six and a half months getting ready for this one day, but for a place where the average person makes around $2 per day they did alright.

After they've been sorted and cleaned they're then placed into plastic bags and weighed out to 1 kilogram per bag.  That's about 2.2 pounds per bag.  Then they're sold for about $5 per bag to the community.

It's also important to consider that this was Mr. Nshimbi's first harvest ever.  Due to that the management leading up to the harvest was a learning process for him.  At times he wasn't as diligent as he could have been with regards to feeding his fish.  I expect he's learned a lot from this first harvest and the next time we harvest in March he'll have an even higher yield of fish. 

Nshimbi looks on with other community members as the fish are being sorted through.  He was hoping for about 90 pounds of fish being caught, but in reality only around 25 were kept for sale.  Although a lower amount then what he wanted he later told me that he was happy with it, because it's a learning process and next time he'll have even more.

Things here take time to happen and a exceptionally managed fish farm won't happen overnight, but I was happy of the accomplishment - he was the first to take the initiative in building the pond, stocking it, managing it, and then harvesting it.  That's a big step he took and it paid off. 

I should also note that because of his pond I've been asked to plan out four other ponds for future construction in the area by other villagers.  His example is spreading amongst the people of the area.