Zambia - some random thoughts

Since arriving in Zambia over three months ago, Henry and I have had endless conversations and more than one disagreement over whether there really is any hope for Zambia? Henry sees things more positively than me, perhaps because poverty in Africa is less visible than he’d imagined. We’ve mulled this question over with each other, with other VSOs and with our Zambian colleagues – and every time I get a little more confused and a little less certain of which direction Zambia is headed.

Of course, if Zambia didn’t face quite a few challenges we wouldn’t be here and it wouldn’t be ranked 165th out of 177 on the Human Development Index but just as there are many cracks below the surface in Britain, you don’t have to look too far in Zambia to feel optimistic.

Last week, one of the organisations I’m working for got some money in the bank for the first time in almost a year and started to pay its volunteers three months’ worth of allowances. A mistake was made, and one girl, who had been volunteering for only one month, got the full amount. As far as I can tell it was an honest mistake, a pretty significant one, but honest nonetheless. The manager hit the roof. Saying that, if permanent members of staff were dishonest, what hope was there for the future? She sent the coordinator off to chase after the money, saying that if it wasn’t returned she would deduct it from his (the person who made the mistake’s) wages. The money was returned, everyone was paid the rightful amount and we all went back to work.

Contrast this with another organisation we’re aware of that, before Christmas, received some funding and now, only weeks later it’s emerged that about an eighth can’t be accounted for. The manager’s response when asked went something like; ‘it wasn’t me, I haven’t touched it.’

My point is that in a country where corruption (or “Chiphuphu” as they say in Chipata) is so endemic it was really encouraging and even heart-warming to see a Managing Director so outraged by the slightest hint of wrongdoing.

Corruption, as frustrating and upsetting as it is, at some times seems understandable. If the wages you’re paid aren’t enough for you to buy lunch then why not bump up your transport cost claims just a little. It happens in the UK. Unfortunately, those in a position to add a little extra to their allowances are those who have already risen to a position of power. And to be able to rise to a powerful position you first have to know the right people. I asked a well qualified peer educator why he couldn’t get a job and he said he didn’t have ‘the right face’. What he meant was it didn’t matter how many certificates you had, or how much voluntary work you’d done if your uncle wasn’t on the managing committee or your cousin hadn’t put a good word in for you, you stood no chance.

On top of this there are very few jobs for young people to apply for. Henry works with a group of young people who have all finished secondary school and a large handful of them will have passed their grade 12 certificate with flying colours no doubt. But they struggle to get jobs or rather there aren’t many jobs for them to apply for. Many of the peer educator’s I work with have piles of certificates bearing their names in counselling, in peer education, in basic health care, in treatment adherence but still they scrape a living by collecting minimal volunteer allowances from as many different NGOs as they can. Henry tries to convince me that things aren’t so grim, Zambia’s economy is growing at a rate of 5% which means there has to be some more jobs out there somewhere, this week we heard that a couple of young men we know have interviews with local businesses. I don’t doubt that things ARE improving slowly but what do all the unemployed young people do in the meantime, job centres and the dole don’t exist here. And the only recreational activity that doesn’t involve spending non-existent money or drinking excessive amounts of Castle lager is going to church. And for all the good the church does it has a lot to answer for here – but I won’t get started on my condom rant again!.

Although the extended family seems a burden in many circumstances without it, many more Zambians would be left out in the cold. Beatrice, a nurse at Chisomo, is looking after her granddaughter after her own three children passed away. Yoko has been providing for his two siblings and niece ever since his parents passed away when he was in Grade 10. Since becoming a double orphan Henry has lived with his aunt and granddad. I doubt that there are many households in Chipata that don’t look something like this. But, as depressing as this may seem the support of the extended family in a country with a life expectancy of 37 is surely something positive.

Other traditions are less welcome. When a woman is widowed, it is believed that she must be ‘cleansed’. This basically means that a member of her husband’s family – usually the older brother, must have sex with her to free his spirit. When a colleague’s daughter found herself in this situation she refused to return to her home near her in-laws for fear of the sexual cleansing ritual and of being treated like a slave. After all it is still expected that the groom pay a high price for his bride as if buying a piece of property. On the night of her husband’s funeral she was sleeping next to her own mother when her mother-in-law asked to be with her. As she walked into where her mother-in-law was sleeping the pillow she carried was snatched away from her and she was met with cries of ‘my son is lying cold in stone how dare you sleep comfortably tonight!’ Needless to say that she is now living safely with her own mother but many other women aren’t so lucky.

If there was one thing that I think would really make a difference in Zambia it would be for gender norms to shift. And perhaps coming a close second would be for people to start challenging authority. I don’t mean for there to be a revolution and for people to riot on the streets but just for people to speak up when they disagree with something. Last week I was in a meeting with a lady from one of the bigger international agencies working with youth in Chipata, this organisation has a reputation for making a lot of promises but delivering very little. However, I was on my own when it came to asking questions. After she had left, everyone else let rip. Their undeserved respect for an older lady in what appears to be a position of authority zipped their mouths shut in her presence. Zambians are really proud of their peaceful history, unfortunately passive might be a better way to describe the present.

But, on another positive note, obesity, one of the developed world’s worst habits is all but non-existent in Zambia. The abundance of fresh fruit and veg, that hasn’t had to conform to some supermarket stipulated size and colour is one of my favourite things about living in Africa. Lemons are naturally green it seems and apparently you don’t get avocados all year round!?! Unfortunately, it doesn’t translate that Zambian diets are particularly nutritious. Most people – even those that can afford a more varied diet – seem to prefer to eat Nshima (mealie meal) for at least two meals a day. If I remember rightly, Nshima can only offer 25% of a child’s daily nutritional needs.

Another, more positive reason for people looking fit is the amount of exercise people do. Many walk miles every day. Our gardener, for instance, walks for an hour and a half to our house three times a week. I’ve told him time and again that he needn’t get up so early to be at work for 7am, that he can start later but he seems to think nothing of it and knocks on our gate bang on seven without fail. Before Christmas we ordered a double bed for one of the spare rooms from a carpenter in town. We said we’d pay for a flat bed truck to transport it home, instead they insisted there was no need and that they would carry it the 4 miles to our house. We thought they wouldn’t turn up as the day they were due to deliver it, it was pouring down but a soaking wet bed accompanied by four drenched Zambians arrived on our doorstep, no complaints. Henry’s been inspired to start a carbon neutral home removals business that uses only bicycles back in the UK. Unfortunately, I doubt whether it will work back home but it definitely would here.

I could go on and on about the rows of craters that were once roads in Chipata, or the hospital without an X-ray machine, or the family of seventeen living in a house with no roof across the street but I’m in danger of creating a really pessimistic picture of a place that just doesn’t feel so grim. You hardly ever hear a child cry here and I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve been asked for money in the street.

And the most heart warming thing ever happened to me early last week. It was a little wet on the cycle home, I hit a bump and not-so-gracefully came tumbling off my bike. If that wasn’t bad enough somehow, during the fall my toe had got trapped in my front wheel. No matter how much I tried I couldn’t pull it free. No worries, the lady I was swerving to miss when I hit the bump ran over to try and yank it free whilst one man lifted the bike off the road (with the toe still attached) and another dragged me free of on-coming traffic. Teamwork, community spirit and coming to the silly muzungu woman on a bike’s rescue are definitely a tick in Zambia’s favour.

'Twas the season to be jolly...

The traffic lights in the centre of town haven’t worked since mid-November so there was little hope for bright lights in the shape of the latest Disney flick this Christmas. Luckily, Shoprite sells red and green crepe paper so we got to work on some homemade decorations – making paper snowmen and Santa in his winter togs when it’s approaching 35degrees outside did seem a little strange, but I suppose twenty-four years of chilly Christmases can’t be forgotten that easily. Anyway, the local Shoprite had been playing ‘I’m dreaming of a White Christmas’ since early November!


We decided to stay in Chipata for Christmas and see how the locals celebrate. Unfortunately, it seems there is little Christmas tradition practiced in Chipata outside of going to Church – each time I asked someone what they had planned they replied that they had little money spare to spend on lavish celebrations. However, I did definitely notice a growth in the number of semi-live chickens slung over people’s shoulders and fully grown goats strapped to the back of bicycles, on their way to the Christmas dinner table no doubt.


Christmas day turned out to be surprisingly ordinary. We had a couple of other volunteers staying with us. David cracked open his first bottle of beer at 9:30am and got stuck into a Lord of the Rings board game. Dennis turned up with a bottle of brandy in tow. We managed to rustle up a feast of nut roast, roast potatoes, mashed butternut squash (experiment gone wrong – don’t try it), honey roasted veggies, roast chicken, the sickliest chocolate cake ever and mince meat strudel (we could only find puff pastry) complete with Christmas crackers, paper hats and bad jokes. We played cards on the veranda for a while, ate more cake, Henry and Dave had a ‘discussion’ about politics.


A couple of days after Christmas Izzi, a VSO working in Namibia and her friend Joost came to pick us up on their way to Livingstone. They were on the return leg of a mammoth trip across South-central Africa from Windhoek in Namibia, through Zambia to Lake Malawi. Check out Izzi’s blog at www.isabelleinnamibia.wordpress.com.


Despite my rubbish attempts at avoiding potholes we made it to Lusaka safely. We hadn’t been west out of Chipata since arriving back in October and the landscape has completely changed. A few weeks of rain and the brown has turned to green, the dry river is now full and the skeleton twigs are now fully grown trees, beautiful.


When I arrived in Lusaka almost three months ago it seemed small, uninspiring, a little dirty and under-developed in comparison to Harare (no matter how much I try not to, I often find myself comparing Zambia to Zimbabwe). However, after living in Chipata, Lusaka really felt like the BIG bright city. We headed straight for the cinema to see the new (is it still ‘new’?) James Bond movie, which was pretty good. If anyone took a shine to the baddie with the weepy eye check out ‘Open Hearts’ a Danish film Henry and I stumbled across a few weeks ago. Rubbish title but quite thought provoking!


Besides going an hour in the wrong direction, which is almost impossible in Zambia where most major roads run straight out of the capital and have very few turn offs, we arrived in Livingstone a few nights before New Year’s Eve.


Zambia’s Southern Province appears more developed than the Eastern. Most of the towns we drove through were smaller than Chipata but had real concrete pavements and tarmac roads. I’m guessing the reason is that most of the towns benefited from the (now barely used) railway that runs down from Lusaka to Livingstone.

Livingstone was great fun, we met up with another ten or so volunteers who’d travelled from all across Southern Africa. Despite his lack of appetite for adrenaline sports Henry convinced himself to jump 53m into a gorge attached only to me and a giant swing and surprised himself by actually enjoying it.


Livingstone is Zambia’s gateway to Victoria Falls. From the Zambian side you can stand on top of the falls just at the edge before the water begins to fall. We also clambered down to the ‘boiling point’ which is where all the rafting begins just at the foot of the falls. Wearing only flipflops, we weren’t really prepared for scrambling over rocks but made it to the bottom no problems. Just as we turned to climb back up we got a fright as a metre in front of us stood a massive daddy baboon. Thankfully, by the time we’d finished panicking and scrabbling about for a stone to throw he’d disappeared. Henry only decided to tell me when we’d made it safely to the top that baboons are known to attack females and that the giant worm I’d seen on the walk down was actually a small snake….shudder!!!


On New Year’s Eve we saw a family of hippos and a crocodile from the safety of a sunset cruise and spent the rest of the evening becoming quite merry on the waterfront. And now after two days of coach journeys Zambian style (a 6hr journey took 11hours!) we're back in Chipata.