Sematimba, the Obama of Uganda?

Top: Solar Energy for Africa outpost close to the Equator in Uganda
Middle: Adorable boy playing with the papaya trees and dead branches by Living Goods branch outside Kampala
Bottom: Massive Tilapia on display for sale outside Kampala

On our last day in Kampala on the outskirts of the city, the car came to a dead stop due to a traffic jam. This is not unusual. I had become quite accustomed to dead stops for no reason other than congestion in a city built for 2 million, which is forced to accomodate 4 million commuters and an ever rapidly urbanizing population.

Today, however, the reason for idling was not just poor city planning. After about 10 minutes behind a massive dump truck, our throats slowly coating with dust, petrol and burning trash fumes tinged with bitter sweet perspiration, our driver Herbert, announced we would soon be enmeshed in a massive political rally. Mr. Peter Sematimba of the The National Resistance Movement (NRM) is campaigning for a critical seat in Kampala's Rubaga Division LC3.

As there is quiet before the storm, so there was calm before the onslaught of NRM-ers surging through the narrow two-lane street of this district. We waited with baited breath to determine the mood of the mob before rolling down the windows, keeping doors locked. A trickle of a crowd began to form on either side of us, waiting for the parade. Children crossed the street after school, calling out "Mazungu!" at us and posing for pictures. A few solitary motorcycles drove through the street 'decorated' with leafy branches ripped from trees. The men adorned with homemade head ornaments of palm and banana leaf. Some wore the bright yellow of the campaign colors or makeshift sandwich boards plastered with posters of Mr. Sematimba. Then, in full force, dillapidated cars, bulldozers, more motorcycles and pick-up trucks so overloaded with people that their rear axels' groaned under the weight came both careening and inching down the street, depending on the distance they maintained from the rest of the campaigners. Mostly, people were on foot fervently shouting, "OBAMA! OBAMA"!

This confused me completely, "who are they campaigning for?", I asked. Herbert answered that they liken Mr. Sematimba to the "Obama of Uganda". This may seem weighty to some, but all you need to do is hang out in east Africa for a bit to know the pride, proximity and/or reference to the new American President (any way you can get it) wins points. So, with some context, check out the video below!




Ignore my ridiculous narration of the event as Herbert mistakenly pointed out Sematimba three times, which I announce, only to discover it was never him. He passes by standing at the very top of the bulldozer, out of the camera's reach.

'Til next time!
Hilaria

African Longhorn Cattle and Water Conservation

Top: Video of Longhorn African Cow on the road to Kampala from the Equator
Bottom: Picture of said cow in all her glory

I spotted this jaw-dropping cow on the way back from the Equator. Check out the video. This is no feeble dairy cow, needing to be fed and milked; this cow is hardy, grazes and has one other obvious asset, MASSIVE horns! I have seen rhinos, giraffes, baboons and more but this animal is truly impressive. Note the men walking their bicycles along the road. They are hauling water from a well nearby, which is the quantity their family will use for the entire week. Given that the average household size in Uganda is 5.1, you can imagine the economizing that happens with this water. This is for bathing, cooking, drinking and washing. According to the UNDP Water Program, 2.9 million people in Africa lack access to clean water and 3.1 million are without sanitation. The average person in the U.S. uses 200 gallons per day. Astounding. See here for tips on saving water.




'Til next time,
Hilary

The Equator and Witchdoctors

This morning, the commander in chief of this African excursion decided we needed a few hours break. Amen, Oliver! Just before 9:00, we set off for the imaginary line dividing the northern and southern hemisphere, the Equator! Some things I didn't know, you are 3 lbs lighter on the Equator because you are spinning faster at this point than any other on earth. Stepping over this line, you can witness toilets flushing and water draining in the opposite direction (counterclockwise), integral information to your existence, I know. Wait, there's more! (care of the BBC):

• The region around the equator is the area with the world's greatest concentration of human poverty and natural biodiversity.
• Almost half the world's rainforests are concentrated on the equator in just three countries: Brazil, Congo and Indonesia.
• The Sun - in its seasonal movement - traverses directly over the equator twice each year, on the spring and vernal equinoxes.
• Locations along the equator experience the fastest rates of sunrise and sunset on the planet. The transition from day to night takes only minutes.
• The lengths of day/night time vary very little, while more northerly and southerly locations can vary enormously. Season-long days and nights are a feature of life at the poles.

I have a picture to prove it of course, Leslie-San. For those of you unaware, the Japanese photographic phenomenon originates with the widely held belief that in order to demonstrate one has traveled to a certain location, one requires photographic proof. My friend Leslie is not actually Japanese, though she is so akin to this custom that it may as well be true.

On our return journey, I stopped to pick-up a handmade mobile with little African animals in local textiles and weaving for my sis, Alethia who will deliver her first child, a girl (!) in June. A morbid transition, however, this purchase got me chatting to our driver, Herbert about his children. Apparently, there is a growing problem in Uganda surrounding the abduction of children aged 8-14 for sacrifice in local witch doctor conjures against evil at new home sites. The concept is that if you sacrifice innocence for your new homestead under construction (not an old house, you're already stuck with those spirits), then you are protected. This morbid practice has led to weekly abductions and murder here. This is not the first I have heard of witch doctors pervasive powers over local pysche, but certainly one of the worst. I only hope it is controled soon, as this was heartbreaking to hear.

'Til next time,
Hilaria

Uganda's Ministry of Health and Living Goods

Top: Bushels of green bananas, which are indeed consumed by the bushel to make 'matooke' in Luganda, a starch staple with bland but, savory flavor and texture between plantain and potato
Middle: Oliver Karius, the Assistant Health Commissioner of Uganda and me in his tiny, sweltering office
Bottom: School children walking to assembly in Kampala, note the girls' colorful uniforms!

I take it back that Kampala is so developed it resembles a resort town. The property surrounding our hotel and the area near the President's home is certainly very resort-esque, however most of Kampala is dirty-dirt, an assault on the olfactory sense. Garbage is heaped so tightly and high, it nearly resembles natural landscape with a dusting of Uganda's reddish earth here and there. The city certainly has it's charm though, but I was fooled into delusions of grandeur when we arrived at dusk on Sunday. When you realize the stream running through a small ravine is actually black water coursing between two camouflaged trash heaps, you re-think resort references. Kampala is very hilly and the condition of the roads is quite poor in most parts, massive potholes and changing heights made for a ride that was just way too mean to my tender insides after food poisoning.

On the morning of my emergence from food poisoning seclusion, I joined Oliver and Chuck Slaughter for day two's breakfast, which I ate with trepidation. Chuck is the beyond astute retail master mind behind Living Goods (and TravelSmith). We were picked up by LG's transport before 9:00, an Isuzu-like van circa the early 80's - popular the world over with soccer moms. The Kampala version is souped up a bit, raised from the ground and usually fitted to accommodate nineteen (yes, nineteen) passengers as privately operated transport for the public. LG's van is nicer, with less seats and driven by a young man called 'Chief' who appeared to be no more than 20. Chief took us over the brutal potholes and down a road, upon which a few entrepreneurial children placed a giant rock and demanded a toll to move it. This road seemed no better than any other, but I gathered everyone puts up with this rock-block business and goes on their way after handing over a few shillings.

We arrived soon after at LG's Kampala headquarters where we met with Chuck's team, an amazing group of staff perfectly and diversely fitting their roles within the organization. We went through some of our due diligence questions and learned more about operations in general all while cooking smells wafted from their small kitchen where someone was preparing what I guessed was lunch, starting around 10:00am. Sure enough at 1:00pm, out came steamed rice, bananas, goat meat, chicken stew and cabbage with large glass bottles of coca-cola and orange soda. The fragrance was beyond enticing and though I felt hungry, the residual, burning stabs in my stomach warned me against indulgence. The goat was AWESOME, like steak in color and texture but a bit richer in flavor and yes, I suffered for it.

After lunch, Chief took us to the Ministry of Health to meet with Commissioner Paul. After navigating a maze of halls and a brief wait in a closet/his assistant's office, Paul invited us into his small office where he delivered an hour long soliloquy about the Ministry's shortfalls and learnings in recent years and to discuss the collaboration between LG and local government systems. It was my first ever experience with African officials and though I could sense the famed bureaucracy but overall, he seemed devoted to supporting the organization in a real way, grateful for LG's presence and efforts.

'Til next time!
Hilaria

The Journey to Kampala and Baboons

Top: Fields of emerald green on the road between Kenya and Uganda

Middle: The Ugandan immigration office in the border town of Malaba, very official

Bottom: Happy passenger in a flatbed truck on a Ugandan highway and more green lush-ness

The roads in Kenya are severely battered by the constant, massive trucking traffic, which create deep ravines in the pavement and make for a bumpy ride. I didn't notice it much though, my attention was glued on the breathtaking landscapes and fluorescent green of banana leaves and tea plantations along the way, a continual feast for the eyes.

It took 5.5 hours to travel 200 km, due in large part to the condition of the roads. We crossed the border about 2 hours after we started. Just before the border, you are swarmed by men holding wads of cash called 'brokers'. They help you cross the border and offer to exchange your money, which by the way is one the biggest conduits of disease here, which you don't doubt for a second when you see the bills. They resemble something from the set of Pirates of the Caribbean, tattered and discolored but cashmere soft from handling. We got through relatively quickly and soon crossed the majestic Nile River. The mouth of the Nile lies in the Bujagali Falls in Uganda, which I am desperate to see though it's a bit off-track at this point; we might make it to the Equator on Wednesday!

We passed through the protected rain forests just beyond Busia (pronounced Booo-seee-uh), Uganda where Ebrahim and I (Oliver was napping in the back) saw two Baboons with hot pink faces emerging from the forest, only to look very surprised and turn back in, not before they were spotted by a group of children who chased them into the emerald thicket. We stopped at a roadside cafe for some fried chicken , spicy sauce and a mountain of rice, which I inhaled.

A few hours later after arriving in Kampala I realized that chicken weren't right. I have been hotel-room bound all day and only made it out to blog! I have taken everything I can and should and can't stand the fact that I missed one whole day of the experience and the beginning of our meetings with Living Goods. Tomorrow I shall persevere! Bathroom urgency or not, I want to see these deals through and can't wait to see more of Kampala, which by the way looks more like a resort town, it is so developed!

'Til next time,
Hilaria

The Kenyan Highlands and Bungoma

Top: A breathtaking Kenyan sunset
Middle: Farm family hard at work using One Acre Fund techniques and bumpin' Mariah Carey
Middle: Matunda (passion fruit) the cow!
Bottom: Adelaide and Geoffrey, Stephen and Evelyn's youngest daughter and second youngest son

Friday morning we departed for Eldoret in western Kenya. From Eldoret, One Acre Fund's driver, Ebrahim, collected us and we drove two more hours to Bungoma, a very rural town even further west of Eldoret, two hours from the Ugandan border.

This was the Africa I had been waiting for, not that Nairobi isn't amazing, but I couldn't wait to see Kenya's bread basket. The two hours drive offered picturesque views of the longest, most incredible sunset. The land carved out for farming along the roadside was accented deeply by rolling hills, allowing the sunset to light aflame the already red earth and dark green foliage in so many different views. I must have snapped around 100 pictures of this one hour alone. The light kept changing so dramatically and the views were too panoramic to be believed, there was just so much sky upon which to see the palette of this Kenyan sunset. I was in awe, it was the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen.

We arrived just after dark in Bungoma to One Acre's headquarters, which they lovingly call 'the compound'; indeed it is. There are 4 or 5 houses on a small plot of land where the expatriate staff lives with chickens, two pigs, two dogs and two cats. You get the idea that they have a lot of fun, as they are all around the same age (24-30) and live together in a very dorm-like way making the whole place feel like a displaced part of Uni campus. This effect lends to the idea that OAF is in itself, a youth group affecting massive change in Kenyan agricultural production by working with rural farmers in doubling their farm harvests per planted acre. They now serve 8,000 farmers and will grow to serve 40,000 at scale in 2011. Remarkable.

We visited with one of their star families, Evelyn, Stephen and all their children. Both parents work for OAF, Evelyn is a 'Light Mother' providing a guiding light in basic healthcare and parenting to other OAF mothers, and Stephen is a farm facilitator assisting the local farm manager in the proper plantation of the maize farm inputs. Evelyn and Stephen have no less than seven children. Luckily, Stephen is a bright entrepreneur who took his farming success and transformed it into a seedling and brick-making business, sold for 4 KSh each (about 0.30 USD). He is so proud of his success from the new passion fruit farming introduced by OAF, that he purchased a very healthy cow (most in the area are emaciated) and named her Matunda, meaning passion fruit. Naming animals is very rare in Kenya, most pets (rare that they do not also have a function or job as well) are just called cat, chicken, dog, etc.

OAF's impact on the naming of things and people locally was obvious. The choosing of a name in Kenya for children is greatly dependant on the surroundings and happenings near birth. For instance, you may be called Friday if born on yes, a Friday. Many local children are also called One Acre Fund or named after some of the expat staff, which is just adorable.

We walked through one farming district with a farm manager, Edith and OAF's unbelievably dedicated founder, Andrew Youn who I quite like. As we arrived at the third homestead, we began to have a following of local children shouting "Mazungu, Mazungu!" (whitey, pale face, etc.) as we passed, calling even more kiddles from the woodwork. There were about 20 when we arrived at the next farmhouse. I took their pictures and showed them on the digital camera, even a few short videos, which they LOVED. They laughed and screeched with joy over seeing their images for the first time. We looked like the pied pipers of Bungoma with pen tricks of rudimentary 'magic' care of Oliver, and photos to lead them along the paths behind their farms. It was great fun but also difficult to see that some were very ill, mostly from respiratory illnesses caused by constant smoke inhalation from the cooking fires.

We had two days in lovely Bungoma and then set off in the early afternoon to Kampala, Uganda by the only road available with Ebrahim of OAF, for more adventure.

Zebras, Giraffes and Impala, oh my!

Top: A lovely zebra grazing on the plains
Middle: The signage of the Park was endearing, directions pointed to the "Hippo Dip" and "Lion Lounge" 5km this way or that
Middle: The lone Rhino!
Bottom: Beautiful umbrella Acacia tree thicket, the national tree of Kenya. They are so unique and majestic.

On Thursday morning I had a total of 4 hours off from the rigorous meeting and due diligence schedule. I used that time to go to Nairobi National Park, waking at 5:00am and witnessing a gorgeous Nairobi sunrise on the way. It was the best idea ever. Sammy, the wonderful, reliable driver awoke 4:00 to pick me up in time to visit the park before the larger game dispersed in the morning heat to find shade and in time to get back for a noon meeting.

I saw herds of Zebra, who apparently begin to die en masse after the monsoons begin because they cannot process the new, green grass. I saw a few dead zebras to prove this phenomenon, which was sad, but also provided opportunistic moments to perhaps find scavenging hyenas or, the rarest, African lion, simba in Swahili. I did not see a lion, alas, but I saw nearly everything else, including a herd of grazing giraffes and a lone female black rhino! Rare! They are notoriously stupid and unpredictable with very poor eyesight, but excellent hearing. When I found the giraffes, I got out of the car to get better shots, a big no-no, but they didn't scatter, they just stared at me. Sammy says they were saluting, but I think I just didn't seem agressive enough to warrant fleeing. I didn't exit Sammy's beater when we found the Rhino, bad idea all around as they can charge out of fear, run off, and then come back 'round to charge again from different angles. I have some amazing action shots I will upload as soon as I encounter a laptop with a chip portal.

'Til next time!
Hilaria

Crime & Punishment in sub-Saharan Africa and Sammy, the Driver

Oliver and I were lucky enough to avoid daily haggling with taxis as we were introduced to a fantastic driver by Robert Mutsaers of Green Power. Sammy the driver has been our guide every day of our stay in Nairobi and is one of those wonderfully humble souls who could do anything with some support. He's smart, kind, inquisitive, and oddly enough for Nairobi, extremely punctual. For this reason we gave him a Swiss nickname, Oliver's vote is Urs, mine is Ueli-Sam, pronounced "You-li-Sam". Sammy and I have long conversations about all manner of things, mostly answering questions with information that anyone educated in the developed world, or through University-level takes for granted. We talk about cholera and typhoid, how they breeds and transfer, the Ph levels in water and what it means in relation to taste, and how the Internet works. I have also learned a great deal from him, mainly about how spoiled and fortunate I am.

We coast along the highways of the city in his low-profile beater with super tinted windows quite happily. In a city recently dubbed 'Nairobbery' for its petty crime and mugging, we are grateful for this inconspicuous ride. I heard from the 'master-franchiser' of Solar Aid, that just the week before a man reached into their car and was choking his daughter, trying to lift her simple jewelry and bag. The penalty for these sorts of crimes is typically metered out immediately by the local community. The corruption and lack on confidence in the police force and justice system is so extreme that citizens know they must take punishment into their own hands. This is not always so in Nairobi, and certainly not so for white people unrecognized by the community. Translation; your tourist tush will not be rescued.

I chatted to a lovely man from the Netherlands, Professor Ted, who lived in west Africa for 15 years with his wife and children. He felt the sense of community and security is even stronger in west Africa than in the east. He told me a story about his cook in Mali who participated in this sort of community justice on his way to town one day (once in 15 years). The cook was riding the local bus when a man stood up crying "theft!". The driver stopped and searched every single person aboard. The thief was dressed in a suit and carried a briefcase, but sure enough, they found him with the exact amount missing in the carrying case specified by the victim. Instead of delivering him to local police, the entire bus de-boarded right there, and offered the thief a choice: death by tire or nail. The tire option consists of placing a car tire around your neck that is then filled with petrol and lit on fire. The second option is to drive an 8 in. nail into the top of your skull. Both punishments obviously result in death, but you must also pay for the nail or tire and petrol.

Although gruesome, it makes for extremely safe, tight-knit communities in which everyone is accountable for both crime and punishment. I can appreciate that sort of cosa nostra approach. Hopefully, however, these practices will diminish drastically as local systems, and in turn federal infrastructure develops bringing transparency and good governance to Africa, which is sorely needed. In fact, it is emerging as the key element to attracting large-scale investment to the continent. Certainly, impact investment is facilitating this growth and laying the groundwork for major development-continent wide. Africa is one to watch. You read it here first!

'Til next time,
Hilaria

Jambo!

The monsoons have arrived! Nairobi has cooled off and the earth is soaking up the much needed rains. They have come four weeks late and there is serious drought and famine in some regions. People are dying of starvation here. Local TV reports last night showed these people recieving aid and food from the government, but it is still shocking to see emaciation circa 1990's Somalia in a country where UN presence is so strong. In fact, Africa's largest slum, Kibera, sits in the center of Nairobi, walking distance from the massive UN headquarters. Such stark contrast between places like the Zen Garden of Nairobi, where our all day meeting for the new network, GIIN (Global Impact Investor Network) c/o the Rockefeller Foundation in cooperation with Kofi Annan's Fund, AGRA (Alliance for a Green Revolution in Africa) and the rest of Nairobi demonstrates two things: Kenya is about to boom. Nairobi is upwardly mobile economically speaking, but the majority still live in extreme poverty.

It confirms what the impact (sustainable) investors, NGOs and a handful of development agencies focused on entrepreneurs rather than aid, are saying in our meetings over the past week, Africa needs no more handouts. This echoes Dambisa Moyo's book and recent WSJ article
that Aid has hurt Africa, not helped it. The focus now must be on strengthening systems, agricultural development, and capacity building en mass. What is exciting to see is how many key players are speaking the same language now on this subject and finally, finally, taking action!

'Til next time,
Hilaria

Nairobi is bumpin'

I arrived Sunday evening in Nairobi, exiting the double-decker jumbo jet around 7:00pm and was immediately enveloped in the hot moist air of the city, perfumed with the strong scent of bodies in motion, many without access to Speed Stick. I stood for over an hour in one of two lines for Immigration. I had to chuckle to myself as a gum-smacking, hair-preening, touristic American woman complained to her family about a lack of ''customer service'' due to the wait. I wanted to advise her to remove her gaudy ring before stepping outside the airport but figured theft would be well-deserved as she clearly knew nothing about her destination.

It was already dark when I made it through Customs, who just smiled broadly and waved me on. Oliver met me outside with Robert Mutsaers, the brilliant Dutch social entrepreneur who devised a plan for rural electrification via micro-hydro power called Green Power. Translation: small water power projects for rural Kenya, built by and for the community. He is impossibly tall, as the Dutch are, and Oliver as well. I'm only 5'9/1m75 but even I tower over most Kenyans and the troop of us together looked gigantic. I was expecting the Masai build of Kenyans, tall and lean, but for the most part Kenyans are small people, short and more rounded with beautiful sculptural faces but few hard edges.

There are around forty different tribes/ethnic groups in Kenya, with distinct cultural differences, but I noticed one outstanding similarity: an overwhelming warmth and beauty in their walnut shaped eyes of the deepest, warmest browns and blacks. Their skin tones range from light brown to a black so dark is appears mixed with the rich, yet ash tone of a concord grape. There is also a massive immigrant population here, mostly Indian, which has infiltrated culinary traditions so much so that nearly every restaurant we've been to offers a sort of samosa!

Oddly enough, Nairobi feels more like home than any European or American city where I have lived. It has the familiar chaos and distinctly dissonant symphony of 'underdeveloped', like many places in Mexico.

Meetings have been back to back and profoundly interesting. My brain is pooped daily, but carry on I must, fresh by 6:30 for breakfast meetings and the like. They like to start very early here, to beat the heat and the traffic, which is terrible and worse than Mexico City because there aren't many ways around it. It is supremely green here, lush and diverse foliage everywhere you look. It makes me feel closer to nature than I have in years, much more so than when I lived in Switzerland where despite its pristine beauty and Alpine proximity, nothing feels out of place, or distinctly wild. For the most part, nature there follows the path the Swiss have set it on, including the streams in their cement beds, and the graveled woodland paths, delineated centuries ago. In a bustling, churning, grinding city like Nairobi, you can hear the birds in the morning before anything else. They begin their song around 3:00am. This, combined with the tropical foliage, constant motion and wet heat makes for an excitingly new and certainly, wild experience.

Off to a dinner meet now but headed at the crack of dawn to see some game in my few hours off! Much more to tell tomorrow....

'Til next time,
Hilary