In terms of food security,
the prevailing image of Africa remains one of widespread starvation thought to
be caused by low agricultural production.
This warped picture has widely hindered the formulation of appropriate
responses to curb this conundrum. Many people will actually tell you that they
rarely think about their food security; in fact, consuming only one meal a day
for a few months each year is not considered unusual. Instead, food insecurity
actually pales in significance when compared with concerns for school or medical
fees because food shortages have become so normalized. What is most puzzling to
me today is that food insecurity here could be lessened and even avoided with a
few relatively intuitive changes. However, these solutions become muddled when people
have to adopt them; my Western sense of “reason” is maybe not “reasonable”
here. Let me explain.
Here, in a rural area
along the Ugandan border, Western Province, Kenya, there are two growing
seasons, nearly everyone engages in agricultural production, and the climate is
relatively favorable. And yet, most people face food insecurity on a yearly
basis. This can be attributed to a myriad of external pressures but largely to
local agricultural practices. Firstly, everyone recognizes that their soil fertility
has drastically declined with agricultural intensification. This is commonly
blamed on the decreased land size inversely related to the tripling of the
population in the past few decades. However, most people do not fertilize their
soil with manure or compost but rather wait for cheap chemical inputs to
increase their crop yield and resistance to diseases. Secondly, food is widely
cultivated by the mother or the grandmother of the family (rarely by men or
youth). This same woman is responsible for cooking and serving the food in
addition to doing most of the household chores. All this does not leave much
time to seek new information nor does it allow for the effective cultivation of
the wetlands for example, which requires a lot of manpower. Thirdly, since most
people practice rain fed agriculture, when it doesn't rain, food security is severely
compromised. This year, the rains have not sufficiently fallen and so most
people are expecting severe food shortages. This is already recognizable by the
drastic surge of food prices at the village market and the increased monotony of
the foods served.
Income and food vulnerability
in the area (largely caused by the agricultural methods deployed) is also
exacerbated by the crop varieties cultivated. The majority of people grow only
3-4 staple crops: maize, beans, groundnuts/peanuts, cassava, and small amounts
of sorghum. Maize is prone to disease and failure if the necessary rain does
not fall. Cassava formerly provided many
people with food security as it could be left in the ground until it was needed
and lasted much longer than maize for example. However, due to the mosaic
virus, which attacked the edible roots, cassava has disappeared from most
people’s plates. As cassava and sorghum were typically prepared to make the
traditional ugali (mush), sorghum has also vanished. At the same time, sorghum
has lost its value in the kitchen due to its unfavorable color (it is brown and
sticky rather than the more modern white ugali made of maize) and is thought to
be better paired with meats that are rarely accessible these days. While sorghum
and other traditional foods may be considered more favorable for the local
climatic conditions and much more nutritious, few foods can be found in the cooking
pots today.
From the histories recounted
by elderly people in this area, the local food plate was traditionally very
colorful, varied, and nutritious. People used to cultivate a wide range of
crops such as pumpkins, yams, amaranth, finger millet complemented with fresh
fish harvested from the nearby Lake Victoria, prepared and conserved meats, and
dairy products such as fresh milk and ghee. “Those were the days” most people
say nostalgically. People were healthier, had more energy, and were more
secure. With time however, foods slowly disappeared from their diets. During
the harvest season these days, a typical meal will most likely be composed of
ugali (now made with maize but traditionally with sorghum, finger millet, and
milk), collard greens (prepared with excessive amounts of palm oil and tomatoes
but traditionally made with fermented milk), and perhaps some dried umena (tiny
finger fish). At first, this seems to be quite a balanced meal; carbohydrates,
vitamins, and proteins are identifiable. But eating this for every lunch and
dinner for a few months with a cup of liquid porridge or some maize and beans
as a snack in between can get quite monotonous and decrease one’s appetite.
However, in the pre-harvest seasons, which can last from October-December and
more severely from February-June, meals may be composed of just porridge and
some ugali with a few vegetables if possible. Many attribute this narrowing
food plate to a slew of external factors such as the climate, markets, and the
lack of adequate aid while others blame their own laziness, the idleness of today’s
youth, and malpractice.
The traditional grains,
tubers, and vegetables have been recognized (by the Ministry of Agriculture and
others) to fare best in the local climatic conditions. However, these foods
have largely lost their place in the local diet. Reasons include that these do
not have a good local market, they take longer to prepare and sometimes also to
grow, they are unpopular among youth who have grown up with maize and white
bread, and most people emulate the crops of their neighbor as the perceived
risk of failure and theft potential is otherwise considered too great. Only a select few individuals have opted for crop diversification and joining groups that specialize in chili production for foreign export for example.
 |
| Group that has specialized and diversified its agricultural production to ensure food security, combat malnutrition, and adapt to changing climatic conditions. They also produce honey, use compost, and seek and share agricultural information within the group. August 2012 |
Attitudes towards change in this rural area have
provided me with much food for thought . If I had grown up in a small
village in Italy and was told to forgo anything containing wheat because it does
not grow well locally, I would most likely be resistant. No more fresh pasta, sizzling pizza,
sweet cakes, and warm bread? If I was Chinese and had never left my village and
was told to forgo rice, I would probably ignore this
suggestion as long as possible. Many will argue that this situation is completely
different because people NEED to change if they are starving. Well people here
aren’t starving as such and even if they were, physical 'needs' are not always prioritized. Many children are malnourished, but people live. People
wake up every morning, work, eat, congregate, and laugh just like on most sides
of the globe. People here also pick their battles; most are not absorbed by
common poverty indicators such as sanitation and access to food and water but
rather concentrate on coming up with school fees. It is my belief however, that many
smallholder farmers here could kill two birds with one stone by cultivating diverse
or specialized crops to ensure their food security and simultaneously generate
income. But at the end of the day, will people change if they don’t think their
situation in that particular regard needs to change or requires such great risk-taking
behavior?
If anything were possible,
I would tell people here to grow more traditional crops rather than
climatically and nutritionally-unsuitable foods such as maize, to use manure and
compost on their plots of land, to conserve (pickle, jar, dehydrate) foods, to join an agricultural group to access more
information and the necessary funds, and to work together (women, men, and
youth) in order to productively use all the available land. Others would
suggest hybridized or genetically modified seeds, cheap farm inputs, and an
export market. But as long as people have to implement these suggestions, a
social rather than technical approach is imperative. For example, men will not
readily help in the kitchen to conserve foods even if the returns are great because
this is socially stigmatizing. Sustainable and context-appropriate change does
not necessarily begin with large-scale investments or an NGO with a save-all
project proposal. It begins with an open attitude and the access to appropriate
or useful information by a smallholder farmer on the border to Uganda in this
small Kenyan village. The most effective
mediator of this change still requires extensive exploration but it will most
likely be a combination of individuals, NGOs, for-profit enterprises, or the
government. Change is slow and challenging and few can do it alone. But the
potential here for people to define their own sustainable development
trajectory is immense.
**The application of
these proposed solutions has proven effective in a neighboring location but requires
further exploration. A historical understanding of past interventions, a more
developed comprehension of social sanctions, value positions, difficulties
regarding trust, and contending parallels of development are important to
explore further.
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