“Just days after recognizing the plight of poor people impacted by increasing food prices, President Bush missed the opportunity to offer real solutions to tackle one of the major threats to food security worldwide. In fact, the initiative he announced today could make matters worse.
"Scientists predict that climate change will result in more frequent droughts. It is clear that droughts in places around the world and the shift from food to fuels for commodities like corn and soybeans are partly responsible for the meteoric rise in food prices over the past year. With food shortages causing social unrest in dozens of countries, the President needs to offer more than a short term fix to the food crisis while doing little to curb our dangerous emissions. Aggressive action is urgently needed to reduce CO2 emissions and the effects of climate change on poor people and their ability to feed themselves.
"The shift to biofuels may exacerbate the problem if major investments are not made to encourage the production of non-food based energy sources such as cellulosic ethanol. The President points to ingenuity and enterprise as keys to the solution, but ingenuity without investment capital won't get it done.
"We also need to recognize that it's not just polar bears and glaciers that are affected by climate change. Climate change is affecting people throughout the developing world. The UNDP estimated that it would cost $86 billion a year to help poor countries adapt to climate change. Yet the President made no mention today of the need to help them adapt to the effects of global warming.
"While technology may be part of the solution to our climate crisis, we need to be certain to focus some of this technological innovation on helping developing countries meet their growing energy needs without substantially increasing greenhouse gas emissions. It is not fair to ask poor countries to sacrifice their economic growth because of potential climate impacts. It is reasonable, though, to help them grow in more carbon neutral ways. Providing this support is one of the foundations of the Bali roadmap, and financing should be an essential part of that negotiating process.
"What we need now is a substantial reduction in greenhouse gas emissions, as well as assistance to poor communities here and abroad to adapt to the severe consequences of global warming already taking place. In this respect, high food prices may simply be the tip of the iceberg.
"It's been nearly a year since the major emitters process was kicked off. Unless this week's meeting sets out constructive proposals that will advance UN negotiations under the Bali Roadmap, it will be apparent that this Bush initiated process is simply a distraction from the global task at hand.
"The reality is that US leadership is sorely needed to reduce our impact on the planet and to help those who are suffering the consequences of our unwillingness to cut our own greenhouse gas emissions. If not, food scarcity will increase, food prices will continue to soar, and nations large and small will suffer the consequences."
]]>I was traveling with Ransam Mariga, Oxfam's program officer in Zimbabwe, and Bridget Masaraure and her colleagues Grace Tambo and Helen Dhliwayo from the Single Parents and Widows Support Network, our partner in Zimbabwe. Our mission that day in December was to visit a few of the 6,000 families that had received a package of seeds and other assistance, part of an agriculture recovery project designed to help them grow some food during the approaching rainy season.
Our first stop was Beatrice Masuku's household. Her homestead consisted of several small brick and mud buildings with corrugated iron or thatched roofs spread in a rough circle around a yard of baked dirt. We crowded under the shade of a tree and settled onto a few chairs and a mat. As we began to talk, several children peeked out from behind one of the small buildings, laughing in delight at the sight of the unexpected visitors.
The Masukus have eight children, and had taken in five orphans, children of Beatrice's brother. The family of 15 makes a living by farming and selling what they can of their crops. The children look after other people's cattle. It's not an easy life, made more difficult by erratic rainfall and Zimbabwe's continuing economic woes.
Beatrice Masuku brought out bags of seed to show us what she'd received, making several trips between her granary and our shady tree: plastic bags and packets of millet, pumpkin, kale, bean, and sorghum seeds filled her arms.
In previous years, when the family hadn't received seeds and times were difficult, she explained to us that she had to ask neighbors for seeds. "People would look around and see if they had any extra seed in their granaries," Masuku said. "They would sometimes not have any seeds or any money to give us." If that happened, she would go work in someone else's fields in exchange for seeds or money, and do whatever job they wanted—and she would then have to work in her own fields as well.
We followed Masuku out of the compound and down a dirt path that led to the family's fields. She showed us where she had already planted the groundnut (peanut) seeds that came in the seed package. The rest of her fields were already prepared for planting the other seeds. She explained that she is waiting until the seasonal rains begin before she plants the rest.
Farmers in most parts of Zimbabwe have no choice but to wait for rain. Few have any other means of irrigating crops. In recent years the rains have been extremely erratic, with too much rain that washes away soils followed by extended droughts. Lack of rain is now a brutal counterpoint to the economic crisis. When taken together it is very hard for most farmers to make ends meet, particularly those with chronically ill family members or caring for orphaned children.
Masuku says that the seeds she received from Oxfam and the Single Parents organization, plus a little she saved from last year's harvest, will allow the family to manage well over the year ahead—if the rains begin soon. She expressed hope that the first pumpkins would be ready soon so that the family can use the pumpkin leaves as an accompaniment for their maize meal, or sadza, the staple food in Zimbabwe.
After returning to the compound we said goodbye and piled back into the car. The group continued on to several other households as part of our monitoring of the Oxfam agricultural recovery project.
The other households had stories similar to that of the Masukus: families who have taken in orphans, some of whom are affected by chronic illness and HIV/AIDS, and all struggling to survive in a country with an inflation rate of almost 1,600 percent. The declining economy means that sometimes there are shortages of everything farmers need, and other times the prices are so high that average farmers cannot afford to buy the seeds, fertilizer, fuel, and other basic inputs to run a farm. It is a serious situation in a country dependent on agriculture.
As we sat in one compound, again under a shady tree, members of the Kanjere family of 10 told us how they occasionally receive food aid but that the delivery is sporadic—sometimes they receive nothing. However, one woman in this household talked enthusiastically about the seeds and fertilizer that came from Oxfam and Single Parents. The seeds were the best types for the dry region, she explained, and because the variety of seeds in the package help them to grow vegetables as well as grains like sorghum. The pumpkins, beans, and kale fill an important gap in the period before other grains can be harvested: "In two months we will fend for ourselves," she told us.
As we drove out of the compound, the family members returned to their seats in the doorway of their house and under the tree. Fields already prepared, there was nothing to do but wait for the rains to begin.
We ended the day with a visit to a community garden funded by Oxfam America. Community gardens help families grow vegetables in the winter season, providing enough food to survive until they can plant, grow, and harvest their next crop. The gardens require less intensive labor, which benefits those who are not physically strong, and the vegetables grown in the gardens are both nutritious and a source of income.
The garden is surrounded by a thick "fence" of prickly branches and, inside, there are many rows of long, even beds. We were visiting after most of the vegetables had been harvested for the season so many of the beds had only sparse vegetation, but the plants that remained were bright green against the dark soil.
Each garden member is given several rows to plant, and seeds for green beans, butternut squash, kale, onions, cabbage, and carrots. We stood on the packed dirt paths that divided the beds, under the hot sun, and talked to members of the garden. Each of the women and one young man we met had a difficult story to tell: being widowed, having sick children to care for, or taking care of orphaned siblings. One young ma's parents died when he was younger, leaving him in charge of his siblings. "I used to be a child heading a family, but now I am older and look after seven orphans," he said. "It's tough to look after so many orphans, and I mostly use this garden to support the children." By the end of last winter his beds were full of onions which he hoped to sell after they matured.
The garden members told us that although much of what they grew was eaten to supplement the families' staple food, sadza, they were also able to sell some vegetables. They used the income for school fees, purchase of other foods, medical expenses, and to pay for the grinding of maize. "Things are better than before because I could sell my harvest," said a young mother of two.
Since women are typically the ones interested in participating in community gardens in Zimbabwe, I asked the young man why he was a member. His response was very honest: "I am interested in gardening because of the hard times. I have a lot on my shoulders and am gardening because I have no other choice. I would rather have money to start my own business, but I also need the garden."
Emily Farr is the deployable humanitarian officer for Oxfam America in Boston. She works primarily on Oxfam's programs in Africa.
]]>It is a stark example of the impact of HIV and AIDS on rural Zimbabwe. In addition to her own 10 children, Mrs. Nyuwani, 48, and her recently disable husband took in another dozen children. "The 12 came here because their parents passed away and they were living as street children. So my husband I brought them here," she said. "Six are of my late sister, others are my brother-and sister-in-law's kids, and the grandchildren of my sister."
This would be a tremendous challenge for anyone. But Nyuwani has a thoughtful, peaceful air about her as she takes a deep breath and describes how the family copes: "At first it was disturbing, because I thought about where to get food for all these children," she said. "But now I am used to looking after them? I treat them all the same, and share the food equally."
Survival comes down to just that: food. Nyuwani has seven hectares (about 17 acres) of farmland at her disposal, and is an experienced farmer. "I manage all this by farming, and the older kids help in the fields," she said. "During the rainy season there is a lot of work to be done, because I have to tend to the crops and the children as well."
Lack of cash and time to look for farming supplies like seeds and fertilizer make it extremely difficult for Nyuwani to plant and harvest enough to sustain the family. These constraints and the number of AIDS orphans on the Nyuwani homestead made her a candidate for the seed distribution project implemented by the Single Parents and Widows Support Network, in partnership with Oxfam America. Single Parents gave Nyuwani some seeds in November 2005, and by the end of May 2006 she had a decent harvest: she estimated growing about 500 kilograms (1,100 pounds) of groundnuts, 100 kilograms (440 pounds) of corn, and 250 kilograms (550 pounds) of sorghum.
This was an improvement over previous years when lack of seeds as well as rain diminished the agricultural yield for the Nyumanis. But the food won't last forever. "I got a better harvest this year, but it won't last until the next season since I have such a big family," Nyuwani said. "For us to survive, to the next [growing] season, two of my daughters will pan for gold in river beds near here. We will also cut back on our meals to one or two a day. We will eat sadza [corn meal] and okra—that's what we have here—no tea, no sugar, no bread. During this [rainy] season we also have some pumpkins and cow peas, but we don't usually eat them apart from the rainy season."
Oxfam America and the Single Parents and Widow Support Network are exploring possibilities for a winter garden project that would help families grow vegetables over the winter. This would help bridge the food deficit many families will be experiencing before the end of the next growing season, and improve nutrition for families taking care of chronically ill people.
For now, the food is sustaining the homestead. "I appreciate the seeds I got from Single Parents," Nyuwani said. "I was very happy with the sorghum and maize seeds I received. I am also happy with the groundnuts."
In addition to improving their diet, groundnuts are also an economic opportunity for a family low on cash with a lot of kids who need to go to school. "If you can grow more of these to sell some, you can get some money," Nyuwani said. "Some of the children were chased away from school due to lack of school fees, but I sold some groundnuts and paid for six who are now at school."
]]>The matriarch of the family, Chisero's mother, was in Harare, 300 kilometers (about 186 miles) away getting medical treatment. She has been living with HIV for seven years'a long time for a farmer in rural Zimbabwe to survive with HIV—which makes Minor Chisero a very good daughter indeed. There is a lot of pride in Minor's voice when she says, "Yes, I am the one who takes care of her."
It is a close-knit group. "We work as a family in the fields, and we eat as a family," Chisero explained. "It is a little better now, we can eat three meals a day, compared to last year when we were only eating once a day."
The increase in food is due to an increase in crops they grew this season with seeds supplied by the Single Parents and Widows Support Network, through a grant from Oxfam America. The family had recently harvested five 50-kilo bags of groundnuts (about 550 pounds), seven bags (770 pounds) of sorghum. They were still harvesting their corn in late May, and were hoping to have as much as five bags.
This 2005-06 harvest was a lot stronger than their 2004-05 yield, when they grew only one bag of corn, three bags of sorghum, and two bags of groundnuts.
The increase in groundnuts this year is not only helping their diet, but their income as well. It is also making it possible for the children to attend school. Chisero and her sisters are roasting and grinding part of their groundnut supply to make peanut butter, which they are selling to cover their health care and school fees for three of their children. "All of the children here are in school," Minor said. "We pay the school fees by selling groundnuts, maize, and livestock."
School fees are 1.5 million Zimbabwean dollars per year, or about $US 15 at the official exchange rate. Peanut butter demands a high price in Mudzi: Chisero said they can get about a million Zim dollars for a liter of peanut butter (about $US 10 a pint).
Minor and her family are making the best of a tough situation. Although they are eating more than they were last year at this time, their meals consist primarily of sadza, or ground corn meal, the main staple food in Zimbabwe. As Chisero puts it, "Our meals are a little bit better—three meals a day, but it is still sadza in the morning, sadza at noon, and sadza at night. It is not a balanced diet."
But in between the sadza and peanut butter revenues, the family is coping for now. Chisero expects their food supply to last through September.
"This program helped us a lot," Chisero said. "If it was not for this seed we got last year we would not have been able to plant our fields, because we have no money."
]]>Shito Massele, a 30-year-old mother of four, sits outside, her back against the warehouse wall. She is one of 96 members of the Qubse cooperative, a cereal bank run by women and funded by Oxfam. In a community where women previously were not consulted on business decisions, today they are ensuring economic and food security for themselves and their families. In fact, their work will turn a profit, generating additional income for their village.
"Before, the women were not even supposed to come near the scale," Shito says. "Now we can weigh things ourselves, our own grain." On this property, the women are not just weighing the grain; they are also fixing the price and deciding when and where to sell it. The land is theirs as well, donated by the village administration.
The cereal bank began nine months ago, with help from Oxfam America and OSRA and the encouragement of the village administration. Given a warehouse and seed money, the cooperative now controls the purchase, storage, and sale of grain.
In Oromiya region, where the project is based, having control of these basic factors has a huge impact. Before the cooperative was established, farmers were forced to sell most of their crops immediately after harvest to settle loans and taxes. During the rainy season, grain was scarce and prices rose. To feed their families, farmers were forced to take out more loans at high interest rates—sometimes simply to buy back their own crops, continuing the cycle of poverty.
The new cereal bank has enabled the community to store some of its harvest, setting grain aside for sale during the rainy season when the market price is high. The women thereby make a profit and ensure food stability for the next planting season.
The cereal bank's organizers stipulated that each prospective member had to attend civic education classes focusing on women's rights. The combined impact of both the classes and the cereal bank has been enormous.
Following the training, attitudes toward traditional practices harmful to women have changed noticeably. Furthermore, the women have proved themselves just as capable of earning an income as men are, thereby gaining the respect of the entire community. Indeed, many farmers prefer to sell their grain to the cooperative because of its reputation for honesty; the women will not try to cheat the farmer.
Being valued in the community is new to the women, but hard work is not. Before the cereal bank, women had little power, according to 46-year-old Abebu Kebebe. She recites her daily activities in a monotone, as if it is a chant she is used to repeating:
"For us it is clear that men are not stronger than us. Early in the morning, I clean the house and take care of the animals, travel two hours to collect murky water, return, cook, take care of the children. It is the oldest burden. Nothing is as simple as it seems. We do a lot of work the whole day, but [the men] move oxen and plow for an afternoon and come home. They move the animals and consider they moved a mountain."
Now, however, the women make all decisions involving the cereal bank, and are able to control their finances and ensure their own economic security.
The success of the Qubse cooperative has not gone unnoticed in neighboring villages. Three kilometers away, another group of women approached OSRA and their village administration, asking if they too could start a similar project. Dirre Dame, 67, chairwoman of the new cooperative, says it began because "we were encouraged by the group, so we organized ourselves, inspired."
The new cooperative, Association Gura, has only been around for a month, but the impact on the women is already noticeable as they plan what to do with the eventual profits. This is the first time these women have had any economic power. In a village where the nearest school is a three-hour walk away, women see this is the beginning of change and a better life for their children.
Some of the changes may seem basic: food, clothes, education for their children. Other women have bigger dreams, hoping to invest in land or animals some day. Right now, however, they focus on meeting the basic necessities, including a secure source of food. They plan eventually to build a small health clinic with the profits, noting that many women die in childbirth because there is no clinic nearby.
Regatto Bedhasa, a 57-year-old mother of six, explains what empowering women to take control of their lives has meant to her community:
"This becomes a hope for us," she says. "We can change our life without having been educated, without knowledge, without experience. We can change our situation."
]]>Five men from the Community Cooperative for Rural Development, or CCRD, an Oxfam partner organization, stood along the mill's perimeter, watching it work. Serious and proud, they admired their prize: the only certified organic rice mill in the country.
Cambodian rice farmers, long vulnerable to fluctuating prices and heavy regional competition, are looking to organic rice to help them carve out a niche in the market. As eating healthily has become more popular around the world, so has organic food. Organic products sell for a higher price than conventionally farmed food. In a country where more than a third of the population lives on less than $1 a day and more than half depends on agriculture, the organic advantage could translate into a reliable and steady income.
"The momentum is really growing," said Le Thi Nguyet Minh, an Oxfam America program officer in the East Asia office. "We need to maintain it."
Maintaining the organic momentum requires establishing farming cooperatives, which are equipped to work in the organic market. This transition represents a huge practical and emotional leap for many Khmer farmers.
The bloody civil war and subsequent genocide that ravaged Cambodia left many Khmer people distrustful of both their neighbors—and any sort of collective work, said Yann Omer-Kassin, an Oxfam Quebec field advisor supporting CCRD.
Even the words "farming cooperative" pose a problem. In Khmer, they translate into "work camp," a term that conjures up painful fears or memories of Khmer Rouge death camps. Many of the people Kassin talked to in Pursat said they were wary of joining a farming coop "because it's linked to a horrible past."
Because of these cultural sensitivities, CCRD staff work slowly and patiently to convert farmers to organic production. They spend much of their time simply building trust in the cooperative concept. They point to the tangible benefits of organic production.
Farmers are encouraged to use animal manure instead of chemical fertilizers—a requirement of organic certification. The resulting savings can be used—to grow other crops, or send children to school. If farmers use natural fertilizer, they can also prevent illness. Many farmers and farm workers get sick because they can't read the labels on the chemicals they use. Many of the chemicals are so dangerous they're prohibited in other countries.
Tang Eum, 47, a rice farmer in Pursat, said she began farming organic rice three years ago. She said natural fertilizer doesn't always produce as much rice as chemical fertilizer. But she's willing to accept that tradeoff if it means her family and friends won't get sick.
CCRD has converted at least 75 of the 1,500 farmers in its collective to farm organic. Their support is crucial. Many of the rice farmers face the same challenges organic and fair trade coffee farmers saw when they first learned about the new model. Many have farmed small plots with chemicals for generations. They need help learning new agriculture techniques so that they can someday grow as much rice as they had before.
Then they need help getting the experience, technical assistance, and market access to pull it all off.
It is a challenging task, CCRD workers said. But knowing what they do about the potential benefits keeps them motivated. Eventually they want to help local farmers not only farm organically, but take the next logical step, and sell to the fair trade market.
Fair Trade Certified™ products are high quality and grown through practices friendly to the environment. Farmers receive a minimum price even when the market price is low. According to a 2005 market study, if farmers made the transition from conventional growing to fair trade organic they could see their profits more than double.
Sitting at a wood table outside her house in Pursat, Tang Eum said she knows what she wants to do with that extra money. A mother and a businesswoman, she would use it to support her family and sell her rice.
"I want to use the money to send my children to school," she said. "And I want to buy a moto to go to the market in town."
]]>In the camps for displaced people that stretch along Chad's border and across conflict-torn Darfur in western Sudan, the concept is hard to explain. In a world of want—where violence has forced more than two million people from their homes—how do you describe an abundance so great that it needs a cookbook loaded with directions to keep it all straight?
That experience helped define just one of the jarring truths about the global distribution of food that Peter Menzel and Faith D'Aluisio explore in their new book, Hungry Planet: What the World Eats. A grand photo essay 288 pages long, the book took the couple on a journey to 24 countries where they got to know 30 families and the intricacies of each family's weekly food consumption. Family recipes accompany every profile.
Brand names and plastic packaging proliferate on some of the pages, testament to the global reach of processed foods and beverages. But on other pages, seeds and raw grains sit in burlap sacks—some more empty than full. A few of those limp sacks belong to the Aboubakars: D'jimia Ishakh Souleymane, who is a widow, and her five children.
The lessons Menzel and D'Aluisio learned from their visits with the Aboubakars are hard to forget, and they hope that readers who consume the stories and pictures in their book won't forget them either.
"What we really wanted to do was help people who didn't have a clue understand what was going on in the rest of the world," said D'Aluisio. "It's important—especially for Americans."
For starters, consider the water situation at the Breidjing camp in Chad where the Aboubakars have now lived for more than a year and a half. Their home is a small tent on a sandy plain crowded with countless others just like it. Oxfam has been providing water to thousands of people in the camp. The minimum provision in emergency situations such as this is just shy of 4 gallons per person a day.
"Water is one of the biggest problems," said Menzel. "Thirty thousand people use a lot of water. There's a big difference between having a faucet and carrying water and standing in line for water."
When the Oxfam water truck arrives to fill an empty bladder—a storage device that looks like a giant water bed—the relief that ripples through the blocks of tents is palpable, added D'Aulisio.
"The water is so precious," she said. "I do not turn a faucet on without thinking of all those people."
D'Aulisio's relationship with her garden has also changed since visiting the Aboubakars. Now, she wastes nothing from it, preferring to invest whatever time it takes to can the extra fruits and vegetables it produces.
D'jimia works hard for the little bit of extra food she buys for her family. She earns about $1.35 a day toiling in the fields of nearby villagers—when she can get the work. She uses the money to buy fresh tomatoes or dried okra. But the bulk of her family's diet—three meals a day—consists of the aiysh she stirs up in a big black pot over a fire outside her tent.
Aid groups provide the rations for the roughly 30,000 people in the camp. The allotments are far from lavish, and amount to about 2,100 calories per day per person in the form of a cereal, such as sorghum or millet, and small scoops of pulses and a corn-soy blend. The rations also include small amounts of sugar and salt.
"Most of everyone looks like they're on the minimum amount of calories needed," said Menzel. The rationing system takes into account only the numbers of people in a family, not the size of their appetites or where they fall on the growth charts.
"If you've got a lot of teen-age boys, you've got some difficulty," added D'Aluisio, speaking from her own experience mothering hungry boys.
D'Aluisio and Menzel learned about some of the ins and outs of camp management during their three-night sojourn in a tent at the Oxfam compound outside of Breidjing.
"Staying in the compound was great," said D'Aluisio. "We got to hang out with the people who were there."
One of the things that became clear to the couple during their stay at Breidjing is how complex the business is of feeding, sheltering, and providing water and sanitation for tens of thousands of people in a remote, arid place.
"Most people who see it from the outside don't see the difficulty," said D'Aluisio of the logistics in just getting enough food to people. "Sometimes there is a disconnect between the giving and the getting, and that disconnect is infrastructure."
For example, the camp was giving food out every 15 days instead of every 30 days—which would have been half the work—because it didn't have enough on hand. Food reserves were far away, and there was no guarantee when new supplies would arrive.
The difficulty in stocking Breidjing—or any of the camps in Chad and Darfur where hundreds of thousands of displaced Sudanese have lived in limbo since early 2003—is just the tip of a problem that affects millions of people around the world every day.
"Most hunger in the world is politics based," said D'Aluisio. "There is more than enough food on the planet to feed everybody. It's just warped in terms of who's getting the food and who already has the food. There needs to be more equality than there is."
]]>Climate change has huge implications for security and terrorism, for diplomatic distortions, for the viability of the global economy—and ultimately for equity. It also contains enormous opportunities for developing countries. In this issue of Exchange, Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Ross Gelbspan writes about the impacts of climate change on the world's most vulnerable people.
Also in this issue, Oxfam America's Fast for a World Harvest turns 30; we revisit communities in Central America devastated by Hurricane Mitch five years ago; and shed light on the struggles of Peru's indigenous Quechua people.
]]>AWC's greatest strength is its connection to local communities. Beneficiaries for food relief are selected based on vulnerability with priority given to the elderly, the chronically ill, widows, orphans, and child-headed households. Food is distributed in the presence of the community, and people are encouraged to speak up if they feel that there is a discrepancy or injustice in the allocation system.
Local women run the impartial, apolitical food distribution system. The organization is well established and has a good reputation, and the communities themselves are directly involved in the distribution process through their AWC members and representatives.
As of early March, the breakdown among the 13,200 beneficiary families was as follows:
Individual families receive 20 kg of maize per month or 50 kg when supplies are adequate. Household size is taken into account with larger households given greater amounts. Efforts are made to deliver in each area once a month.
The system is extraordinarily successful because it places a priority on transparency, ongoing community involvement, women's control of the distribution process, the "prohibition on politics" within AWC business, non-local AWC staff monitoring, and local leadership awareness and support of the distribution process.
Zimbabwe is facing a food shortage that will most likely continue until the next harvest season in April, 2004. AWC is expanding its relief program, adding additional rehabilitation measures such as bean distributions, water pumps, and micro finance programs.
]]>When's the last time a small-farm family called it quits and had to sell their land for development? Probably yesterday or the day before.
There's no coincidence here. The loss of truly fresh fruits and vegetables, grown for their taste, and the loss of farmland and small-scale farmers are two faces of the same coin. In this issue of EXCHANGE, we meet Michael Rozyne, founder and managing director of Oxfam partner Red Tomato.
Also in this issue, ethnic discrimination in Guatemala—and the Mayan defense. Plus, how community radio is engaging Senegal's youth, and the humanitarian imperative of land mine clearance in war-torn Afghanistan.
]]>The people of Seke Communal Lands, like most residents of Zimbabwe and neighboring countries, are growing desperate. People scavenge for leftover food at the local boarding schools. Among the most vulnerable are the approximately 1,500 orphans and families living in Seke whose members have HIV/AIDS. (According to UNAIDS, one in four adults in Zimbabwe is said to be infected with the virus.)
In urban centers, lines for ground corn at supermarkets wind their way around whole blocks and people often wait several days before getting any corn. Although there are no reports of mass starvation yet, there have been several cases of individual deaths from starvation. It only may be a matter of time before the numbers swell. The cases of malnutrition among children under 5-years-old have risen sharply in recent months.
Children in rural schools have fainted in class after going for days without food. No one has the strength to participate in sporting activities, so many have been canceled.
April is normally harvest time in Zimbabwe, but it means little to most peasant farmers this year. Their crops barely appeared before wilting and shriveling in a land without rain for many months.
This year's drought comes hard on the heels of last year's poor harvest, when drought was followed by torrential rains that carried away topsoil. The harvest was thin then, and no additional crops are expected until April 2003.
In normal times, Zimbabwe consumes 2 million tons of corn a year. The drought this year, described as the worst in 50 years by local farmers, has reduced that amount to only 750,000 tons. The country used to export grain and their harvests were very successful. Now, inflation is at 113 percent and the government will have to depend on foreign aid to buy food imports.
To compound the problems, Zimbabwe is bereft of friends in the international community who might come to its aid. The current food crisis is largely considered self-inflicted because the government's land reform program has severely disrupted production on commercial farms. Some districts report that the government is refusing aid to members of the political opposition who challenged President Mugabe in recent elections.
Aid agencies have begun to bring in food under the World Food Program (WFP), but so far they cannot cope with the crisis. To date, the U.S. Government (USG) has provided more than $49.5 million in emergency humanitarian assistance. In past droughts in Zimbabwe, only the most vulnerable needed assistance because there were enough grain reserves for the rest. Today, there is little or no maize meal available, even for those with the money to pay for it.
A large and highly effective Oxfam partner, the Association of Women's Clubs (AWC), recently began an assessment of people's food needs, particularly of vulnerable women and children. The AWC has more than 60,000 members around the country. They have put in an initial request for 6,000 tons of maize to supplement the diets of their members' communities until October 2002. Additional funding is essential to provide food after October for what is expected to be a far larger portion of the population in need.
To arrest the crisis this year, seeds and fertilizers must also be distributed before the next planting season in October. Without these seeds, there will be no crop next April either, and the people will continue to be dependent on external aid.
Zimbabwe's food crisis could well turn into a major humanitarian disaster without international support and a willingness to separate the needs of the people from the political problems dogging the nation. Despite the government's "anti-imperialism" rhetoric, it faces a crisis of a magnitude that can only be solved through international solidarity. The current stand-off between the government of Zimbabwe and international donors should not be allowed to prevent the provision of food assistance, as it is the ordinary people who are bearing the brunt of the crisis.
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