The pair of oxen alone puts him ahead of many poor farmers in this northern part of the country. Harnessed as a team, the animals give Tadesse the power he needs to plow his fields in a timely manner and to be ready for the rains when they fall. But if they don’t come, he’s now experimenting with a tool that will soften the blow: weather insurance.
Tadesse, who lives in the village of Hade Alga, is one of the more than 13,000 small farmers who are participating in a new insurance initiative launched by Oxfam and a host of partners, including the Relief Society of Tigray, or REST. The program allows those too poor to have cash on hand to pay for the insurance by working on environmental improvement projects that benefit the whole community—like planting trees. Tadesse is among the small percent of farmers able to pay with money.
When rainfall drops below a predetermined threshold, insured farmers receive a payout helping them to recover some of their losses from a failed or severely curtailed harvest.
“Everyone in this community is starting to understand the rationale of the insurance, so we want to continue this practice,” said Tadesse, sitting with his wife and two young children in their one-room home on a rainy morning in August. But he admitted that the idea took a little getting used to. “We were skeptical when we heard (about )it. We were even confused. How can you cover the loss of crops? It’s god’s work.”
After a great deal of discussion among community members, and many questions for REST, the idea began to click with people, Tadesse said. The local belief system holds that if you expect good things to happen, they will, and farmers are beginning to embrace insurance as part of that thinking, he added.
In 2010, Tadesse spent 60 birr—or about $3.50—on insurance for his teff, a staple grain in Ethiopia. As it turned out, the rains were plentiful that year and his harvest was very good, negating the need for a payout. But that didn’t stop him from doubling his investment in insurance the next year, paying 120 birr for a premium that would provide him with 400 birr—or $23,17—to cover his potential losses. The expense felt like a smart move.
“Anything can happen,” said Tadesse. “As security for me, I decided to double it. Even in the future I may double it again. You wish for better (rain), but you also have to accommodate the worst. In the future I don’t know what will happen, so that’s why I’m paying. But if the rain is good, I don’t regret paying that amount of money.”
The insurance has given him a sense of greater security, too, Tadesse said, so much so that he now has the confidence to take out a loan for livestock production. Once the rainy season ended, he planned to borrow money to buy a small herd of sheep and goats.
“If you buy four or eight sheep, they’ll reproduce in a short period of time,” said Tadesse. “It’s a good source of income for my family. It makes our life comfortable.”
With the stability he is striving to create for his family—in an environment made increasingly uncertain by changing weather patterns—Tadesse said he hopes his children will go far in school, an opportunity that stopped for him after fifth grade when he had to quit to work on his family’s farm and help care for his aging parents.
“I’m very confident my children will go further—up to where they can reach,” Tadesse said. “Education helps you use your capacity, not only in farming but in trading—in every part of life. If you’re educated you introduce new ideas into your agricultural practices. You analyze the future. It all needs education.”
And with the bit of security insurance is now providing, the dreams Tadesse has for his family have moved a little closer. Soon, other small farmers in Africa will have a chance at greater security, too: The weather insurance program, now called the Rural Resilience Initiative, or R4, is set to expand into Senegal and two other countries in partnership with the World Food Programme.
]]>This means acting on information from early warning systems and not waiting for certainty before responding, as well as tackling the root causes of vulnerability and actively seeking to reduce risk in all activities. To achieve this, we must overcome the humanitarian-development divide.
]]>Teklehaimanot is part of an Oxfam America program called HARITA, or Horn of Africa Risk Transfer for Adaptation, that has designed a way for the country’s poorest farmers to get weather insurance for their crops, allowing more than 13,000 this year to buy themselves and their families a rare bit of security. For 1,810 farmers in seven villages hit hardest by the drought, each will now get a share of the total $17,392 in payouts.
“Last season the rain was bad and we didn’t produce what we had hoped for,” said Teklehaimanot. “So the payment is good for us. We know it won’t cover all our losses, but for me, at least, I can cover the loan I took to buy fertilizers.”
Launched in 2008 with a host of partners including the Relief Society of Tigray, the program aims to build the resilience of farmers by offering not only insurance, but increasing access to credit, encouraging savings, and reducing the risk of climate change through improved land-management practices.
“The project is beyond giving emergency aid. It increases the confidence of farmers and encourages them to take risk to improve their productivity,” said Gezachew Gebru, a representative from Ethiopia’s Ministry of Agriculture. “We need to do more to encourage others to join this effort and make insurance available to all farmers.”
The payout announced on Saturday, Nov. 12, represents an important milestone for the initiative which, in partnership with the World Food Programme, is set to expand into Senegal and two other countries. Triggered when rainfall dropped below a pre-determined threshold, the payout is the first participating farmers have received since the program began, proving the value of investing in the future.
For Haile Selasse Negash, a 48-year-old farmer from the village of Getskymilesily, the payout has meant he can look ahead and plan—something that might not have been possible had he lost all his assets to drought, as so many have in recent months. Across East Africa, more than 13 million people are ensnared by the drought and food crisis.
“Last season it started raining and it stopped all of a sudden. We didn’t get rain for a full month and that damaged our crops,” said Negash. “With the money I get I am planning to buy seed for the next season.”
And it’s not just the payout Negash is happy about; it’s what the program is doing for his community.
“For me, the major benefit is not the money we receive but the work we are doing to recover and protect our environment through those paying for the insurance with labor,” he said.
A key innovation of the initiative is making it possible for the poorest farmers—those without cash—to trade their labor for their premiums. Of the 13,195 farmers now insured, 91 percent of them, or 12,064, are working on projects that can strengthen their communities in the face of climate change, such as planting trees and improving irrigation.
“What we really like to see is farmers increase productivity through climate adaption and improved production technologies,” said Mandefro Nigussie, deputy regional director of Oxfam America’s Horn of Africa office. “The biggest actors in this are the farmers and the insurance companies. The two have to work together to determine the best working conditions that will benefit both. We all know that insurance by itself is not the answer, but it plays a big role on contributing towards the growth of the country’s economy.”
This story was reported by Selome Kebede.
]]>The forecast predicts this short wet season will bring an average amount of rainfall to Kenya, Ethiopia, and Somalia. Coupled with humanitarian assistance and anticipated decreases in locally produced cereal prices, the rain means that the food security situation in Kenya and Ethiopia is likely to improve over the next few months. But in southern Somalia, the situation remains dire, with an estimated four million people in crisis and 750,000 men and women experiencing famine.
In many areas of the region emergency conditions are expected to persist well into 2012. Households remain extremely vulnerable to additional shocks as the severe drought has depleted herders’ assets and reduced crop production. Several good seasons are required to rebuild herd sizes, improve harvests, and reduce debt levels.
In some areas flooding and mudslides are common during the rainy season. For example, in Ethiopia’s Somalia region localized flash floods have already been reported in areas along the Wabishabelle river, affecting an estimated 18,000 people with damage to crops and livestock.
The rain and a drop in temperature are also likely to kill cattle that have already been weakened by a lack of food and water—further undermining the ability of herding families to earn a living and recover from the drought.
In addition, the rains and the risk of contamination of water sources can lead to an increase in water-borne diseases such as typhoid fever, acute watery diarrhoea (AWD), cholera, and hepatitis A. Outbreaks of vector-borne diseases, particularly those spread by mosquitos, such as malaria, dengue and Rift Valley Fever are likely during the rainy season, and increases in cases of pneumonia and respiratory tract infections are common. More than 1,200 cases of dengue have been confirmed in Kenya’s Mandera District since Sept. 23. Flooding in Turkana and Pokot, areas in northwest Kenya, has caused a spread of malaria in the Upper Rift Valley, with outbreaks in Turkana, Kakuma, and surrounding districts.
Displaced people within Somalia and those who have crossed into Kenya and Ethiopia are particularly vulnerable as many of them are living in overcrowded conditions, with limited access to water and sanitation facilities and inadequate shelter. Outbreaks of measles, acute watery diarrhoea (AWD), cholera, malaria, and pneumonia have already been reported in camps in Mogadishu. In Dadaab refugee camp in Kenya five measles-related deaths and 113 cases were reported during the last week of September.
But as people’s needs increase, the rain makes it harder to reach them: Rivers flood their banks, bridges break or get washed away, and roads become impassable. In Ethiopia, access to refugee camps in Dollo Ado is already challenging as the rains make airstrips and roads impassable.
In Kenya, Oxfam is mapping the accessibility of certain areas and working with partners to devise contingency plans to meet the needs of people there. Public health promotion teams are doing environmental clean-up and awareness-raising campaigns. Boreholes are being rehabilitated and chlorine kits and water purification tabs have been distributed. In the areas where Oxfam has been distributing cash to vulnerable households which will be cut off during the rains, a double payment was made to cover the period between October and November so people do not go without.
In Ethiopia Oxfam has expanded its public health promotion and acute watery diarrhea preparedness activities, with a particular focus on women who manage water and sanitation at the household level. Oxfam teams are working with aid groups and other local partners to ensure a strong response to any outbreaks of acute watery diarrhea. As the rains commence, water trucking is being reduced and teams are supporting regional and zonal authorities to ensure emergency stocks and water treatment kits can be mobilized. Cash for work activities and market-support activities are ongoing and animal health interventions, such as vouchers for veterinary visits and vaccinations, have started up.
In Somalia Oxfam partners have been preparing for outbreaks of acute watery diarrhea by setting up distribution posts in camps for displaced people. The posts contain oral rehydration sachets, sugar, salt, soap for washing hands, and chlorine bleach. Partners have also increased the frequency and methods for public health messaging and are working with committees to oversee the water and sanitation services.
In Kenya, Ethiopia and Somalia, the UN, government, and non-governmental groups have prepared contingency plans to respond to any increase in needs: Strong coordination and monitoring is essential.
The delivery of food aid remains a key concern. In Kenya the World Food Programme (WFP) has reported delays in food aid distribution in Wajir, Garissa and Mandera as roads are impassable. Roads in Garissa and Hola, key entry points into the Dadaab refugee camps, are completely cut off.
Ongoing conflict, insecurity, and restrictions on the delivery of humanitarian assistance in Somalia are the key factors which will hinder a more effective response to the increased needs caused by the rains. For example, armed groups in many parts of South Central Somalia are not allowing mass public immunization campaigns despite outbreaks of deadly diseases like measles.
The recent military incursion by Kenyan forces into Somalia, as well as insecurity in refugee camps on the Kenyan side of the border, is also impacting on the humanitarian situation in certain areas of Kenya and Somalia. Fighting in Somalia is likely to cause further civilian displacement and casualties at a time when thousands of people risk imminent death due to famine.
]]>A long trek from the outskirts of the Baidoa in Bay Region brought the family here—to a new camp for displaced people called Booli Qaran, which, ironically, means “looted wealth of the state.”
It’s here that Oxfam’s partner, SAACID, has opened another center for community therapeutic care, or CTC, one of 14 the organization is now operating across the city. And it’s here that Sahro’s son, Ahmed, has been receiving care following months of sickness that left him increasingly weak.
“I really don’t know exactly what is wrong with him, but I think the problem is linked to hunger,” says Sahro. “This nutrition center is extremely important for us. Without it, hundreds of children would have already died from malnutrition.”
Implemented in partnership with Oxfam, the CTC program has been treating children since 2009. It is now admitting more than 3,000 malnourished children, like Ahmed, every week.
“We were displaced after drought killed all the animals we had. We had goats and some cattle; we also had a small farm which we cultivated in order to sustain our lives; but unfortunately there has been no rain at all, and this caused everything to die,” says Sahro.
“We endured a very difficult trip from Bay to Mogadishu, because we traveled on foot for almost 155 miles. I was carrying my sick child on my back, while my husband was carrying another child who is older than my youngest. We begged from Bay to Mogadishu—from district to district and from village to village, for food and water. In reality, we were very lucky to survive. We know of so many families who have lost relatives or children. We thank Allah, who has allowed us to come to Mogadishu together and survive.”
Opened on July 12, the Booli Qaran camp was established for rural families flooding the capital in search of food, services and employment. More than 5,000 people now live here in difficult conditions. The day after the camp opened, SAACID set up a CTC center, which, like the others it operates across the city, have been working hard to save lives.
Ambiyo, a mother of triplets, knows well how important the centers are. She brought her triplets—daughters Qaali and Naciimo, and son Abdirisaq—to one of them recently. Qaali was immediately referred to the SAACID’s outpatient therapeutic program section at the clinic, when she was found to be severely malnourished and in need of immediate treatment. Ambiyo notes that her daughter was in a state of complete frailty back then.
Her other 2 children—Abdirisaq and Naciimo—were placed into the supplemental feeding program section, which treats moderately malnourished children. As treatment has continued over two months, they have all been recovering.
“All of my triplets were weak, especially Qaali, who was so weak and sick and refused to breastfeed at all,” says Ambiyo. “The other two were weak and thin, but still breastfeeding. I was so worried that Qaali wasn’t going to make it. We were well received when I first came to the clinic and the nurses immediately said that they could help us.”
“Our daily life depends on what my husband earns with his work as a barber, and that is not enough for such a large family,” says Ambiyo. “I hope my triplets will recover from the sickness arising from malnutrition problems, especially Qaali who is the weakest. So far, so good.”
SAACID’s senior staff and management lived through the last great Somali famine of 1991-1992, and find this new crisis heartbreaking.
SAACID-Somalia’s Country Director, Raha Janaqow, said, “I had hoped to never see such a hell in Somalia ever again. Yet, here we are, 20 years later, having endured 20 years of statelessness and anarchy; having to see another generation of Somalis suffer and die of starvation. I have seen so much suffering, and still I weep. I no longer know where my tears come from. All we can do is keep helping as much as we can with the resources we have, and hope for a better time.”
]]>Balcha, a 36-year-old widow, has brought us to her home here in the Ethiopian community of Mallima Bari as a sort of bench mark—a way for us to understand where she is in her life at this moment and where she’s determined to go now that she has access to irrigation and the support of a network of other small farmers like herself.
“I will reconstruct my house and show you a better house,” says Balcha firmly. “When I change my house, I will make you coffee.” In Ethiopia, ceremoniously serving guests coffee—three piping hot cups per person—is an important social tradition.
Recently, Balcha joined a group participating in a project launched by Oxfam America’s partner, Sustainable Environment and Development Action, or SEDA. Tapping a well that they helped dig and that SEDA and Oxfam outfitted with a pump and pipes, Balcha and 34 other farmers are funneling water to nine hectares of land--about 24 acres, or a little more than half an acre each. Now, at last, they are free from worry about whether the rain will come on time and in sufficient quantity to guarantee their harvests. With a flick of a switch, they have water on demand—water to feed their crops and build their dreams.
Sitting in front of a field crowded with tall corn, Balcha beams with a surety that would not have been possible a year or so ago. Grief consumed her then: Her oldest child, a 9-year-old boy, had drowned one day while she was away working as a laborer. His dream had been to go to school and he had begged her to send him. But Balcha didn’t have the means.
“He asked me, ‘please, my mom, buy me an exercise book,” she recalled. Her answer? “Next year I can buy you an exercise book and clothes, but this year we don’t even have food.”
Two months later, she said, the terrible accident happened.
In the year that followed, burdened by needs that she could barely meet, Balcha said she thought about leaving her family and running away.
“I was confused,” she said softly.
It was around then that she learned of the irrigation project and the opportunity to join it.
“I was suffering before I joined this project because I didn’t have my husband. I didn’t have any support,” said Balcha. ”Now I have clothes for my body, food for my stomach, and my field is in good condition. When you are hungry, you can’t think of getting satisfied. When you are thirsty you can’t think of getting enough water. But now I’m satisfied.”
Balcha’s story speaks for others in a district where many rural residents make their living by raising animals and cultivating crops on fields fed only by rain. But it’s a hard life—and sometimes an impossible one. In this Central Rift Valley, severe food shortages are a frequent problem.
Without money to put into better production—fertilizer for plants, and infrastructure for irrigation—farmers can’t easily coax much from their land. Instead, like Balcha, they rent their fields to investors who can afford the technology to reap bountiful harvests. And sometimes, small farmers become day laborers on land that is theirs, working for someone else’s profit instead of their own.
But for the group now tilling this 24-acre plot, a reliable source of water could change their lives and the lives of their families. The project is part of a broader Oxfam America water program, set to run through 2020, that works with communities and local partners to help some of the poorest Ethiopians in moisture-stressed regions access water for their fields and animals and manage the resource in a sustainable fashion. With water comes food—and resilience.
Here, in Mallima Bari, the hope is that farmers will begin to cultivate valuable market crops—onions, tomatoes, green peppers, cabbages—that could boost their incomes. From the sale of their harvests, participants, who have formed the Mallima Gale Small-Scale Irrigation Co-op, will pool 10 percent of their earnings toward keeping the irrigation enterprise running. One of the biggest costs is fuel, now running at about 17 birr per liter—close to $4 a gallon. It takes about six liters of fuel each time a farmer pumps water through a half-acre field.
But it’s not just the pump and water that have brightened prospects for Balcha, it’s the deeper connection she has made with her neighbors in the irrigation group and the spirit of cooperation.
“We have very good collaboration,” says Balcha, noting that she had her fields plowed with the help of co-op members and their oxen. Ethiopians measure their land in hectares. One hectare is nearly equal to 2.5 acres. Balcha’s irrigated plot of corn measures a quarter hectare. In addition, she has a half-hectare of rain-fed corn and a quarter hectare of Ethiopia’s staple grain, teff, which is also dependent on the rain.
New agricultural techniques she learned through SEDA could help her crops do better than they have in the past, and the results so far have made her optimistic. She is planting her corn in rows now instead of broadcasting it loosely, and expects the December harvest will produce enough to feed her family as well as some to sell.
“Physically, it looks healthy,” says Balcha. “When you look at it, you get encouraged.”
And with that feeling of encouragement comes the taste of possibility: For Balcha, that means school for her children—an opportunity she never had.
“Had I had an education, I would have been someone better than I am now,” says Balcha. “I’m in darkness myself. I want them to be in light.”
]]>It's the Gurracho River, tumbling through boulders and swelling across the lowlands below, its roar muffled to a whisper-a whisper of possibility—by the brush climbing the steep banks.
In this drought-plagued corner of Ethiopia's West Arsi Zone, the river has long called out to small-scale farmers scratching a living from land fed only by rain. Without resources—money, engineering skills, heavy machinery—families in Dawe kebele had no easy way to tap the river's potential as an irrigation source even as they hungered for what it could bring them: reliable harvests, food on their tables, and desperately needed income for household essentials, like medical care and school fees.
But now, from the head works deep in the brush above where Magarsa and Saworo live with their nine children, a new network of pipes, concrete-lined canals, and earthen channels is funneling the precious Gurracho River directly to 404 farmers tilling 200 hectares of land, or 494 acres. The water is changing their lives.
With support from Oxfam America, the Rift Valley Children and Women development Organization, or RCWDO, began working on the Ejersa small-scale irrigation project in 2007 to help local families increase the income from their farms and expand their employment opportunities. Fed entirely by gravity, the new system is allowing farmers to cultivate their fields year round—whether it rains or not—and to grow food not only to eat but to sell.
"We are encouraging farmers to engage in the production of high-value crops for the market," says Hussien Dalecha, a program manager for RCWDO. "If you simply depend on traditional practices and growing maize and wheat one time a year on small plots, that's not sufficient for household consumption and expenses."
But with access to fertilizer, improved seeds, and most important of all, water, farming families can make their land highly productive—in some cases more than tripling the value of their yields. Coupled with the infrastructure, farmers have also received training in new growing techniques and the importance of diversifying their crops. At a neighborhood nursery, managed by the farmer's cooperative, neat rows of onions, peppers, kale, and tomatoes-among a variety of other edibles-serve as examples of what's possible. And farmers are taking the lessons to heart.
"We have farmland but lacked knowledge," said one farmer, Obbo Bshura. "As a result, we often couldn't feed our family on the meager yield of crops...Through the project we were taught irrigation methods and diversification techniques that were previously unpracticed in our community. Our production increased."
For Magarsa and Saworo, irrigation has brought their family a new sense of certainty, a feeling that, with hard work, their dreams do stand a chance of materializing.
"I have the confidence hereafter I can easily keep my children in school,"said Saworo, 45, who longed to be able to continue beyond the ninth grade himself. "I was eager to be a nurse or a doctor before. But it was a problem for me to continue my education. I didn't have any support from anywhere. If I can't achieve my ambitions, my child should go."
And one of them has. The couple's oldest son, Guta Bati, 22, graduated in July from Kuyera College with a nursing degree.
To help pay for his schooling, his parents sold a cow in December, one of the few that remained from their herd of 30. In recent years, drought has taken a toll on their livestock: Some of their animals died and they sold others when their crops failed and the family needed money to buy food.
But now, with river water promising more bountiful harvests, education for the rest of the children may not require selling valuable assets: their crops may be profitable enough to cover school fees.
The family has access to one hectare of irrigated land. By August, the corn Saworo had planted earlier was ready for harvest at a time when few other farmers around had any. In a bowl passed among visitors, a snack of roasted kernels—sweet, smoky, and a little crunchy—disappeared quickly. Saworo sold a quarter hectare (.62 acre) of corn for 7,592 birr, or about $446—a sizable sum during a season of the year when normally the family has little cash available.
"It's a good income for me," said Saworo. "This is really big money."
And he wasn't going to let it lie idle. He planned to buy improved seeds—tomatoes, beets, and cabbage—for his next crop.
Magarsa, too, has had significant success with the corn she's cultivated, seeing the yield from the half hectare (1.2 acres) she works climb from 12 quintals ( 2,645 pounds) in 2009 to 32.5 quintals (7,165 pounds) this year.
"I am totally in a different life," she said, "being able to feed my children and selling the remaining (corn) to support the children in education, planning for reinvestment."
Nearby, at the home of Bushura Tasho and Jaware Aliyi, the irrigation project has helped boost income enough for the family to plan on putting a new roof on their hut. This one will be made of corrugated metal.
"Water can make a difference," said Aliyi. And not just for the farmers.
As the couple discussed the progress they were making, a woman with two donkeys wandered into their yard. She was there, she said, to purchase some of the surplus corn. Her plan was to buy about 150 birr worth (just shy of $9), load up the donkeys, port the corn to a distant community that had none, and sell it there for a slight profit of between 40 or 50 birr, or a little less than $3.
"The irrigation has already made a market here," said Dalecha, the project officer, noting how the benefits were reaching beyond farmers. Food, grown right here, was finding its way into the broader community—a community that in the past has had to depend on food aid during times of crisis.
"Relief food is aid is very expensive," said Dalecha. "Instead of feeding the people, this kind of [irrigation] scheme is very recommendable."
Oxfam America has been collaborating with communities and a variety of partners on projects like this since 1994, helping to provide families with water for their fields, for their animals, and for use in their homes. Oxfam's new long-term water program, set to run through 2020, is now focusing on three regions: Amhara, Tigray, and Oromia, of which the West Arsi Zone is a part. The program aims to strengthen the resilience of communities in the face of climate change by helping people access water and manage it sustainably for crop and livestock production.
The Ejersa small-scale irrigation project in Dawe is also part of a larger undertaking called the Global Water Initiative, or GWI. Funded by the Howard G. Buffett Foundation, it's a coalition of seven international organizations, including Oxfam America, working on the challenges of providing clean water to some of the poorest people in the world for their homes and livelihoods.
]]>In a country where most farmers depend on rain to feed their crops and guarantee their harvests, that question is omnipresent: It's about survival. And there's no sure way to answer it.
But there is a way to manage the uncertainty it breeds, and Biru, with steady steps, is slowly freeing herself from the constraints of an increasingly erratic climate. Her tools? An entrepreneurial drive and—now—weather insurance for her crops through a program that has grown to reach more than 13,000 farmers in Tigray since its launch in Adi Ha in 2009.
Biru, a 50-year-old mother of six children, was among the first farmers in this rocky northern region to invest in the insurance when Oxfam America, together with the Relief Society of Tigray and a host of partners, began offering it as a way to help families build resilience in the face of repeated drought. If there is insufficient rain during a critical period of the growing cycle, farmers will receive a payout for the crop they have insured.
And even those too poor to have cash on hand can get insurance: They can pay for their premiums in exchange for working on projects that help their communities reduce the risk of future disasters , such as by planting trees to preserve the topsoil. Of the 13,195 farmers now insured, 91 percent of them, or 12,064, are trading their labor for their premiums. And many of the households that have bought insurance are headed by women—3,610 of them.
Biru has been able to pay for her insurance with cash. This year, she bought a package for 200 birr, or about $11.75. It will cover her teff, a tiny grain and a staple of the Ethiopian diet used to make a bread called injera.
In Adi Ha, the weather has not been severe enough—yet—to trigger a payout. But Biru is convinced that investing in insurance is a smart move and that the program should be scaled up to reach farmers in other parts of Ethiopia. Without the cushion insurance provides, families who lose their harvests and have nothing to fall back on could be forced to migrate far from their homes or to sell precious household resources—like a cow—to buy food.
"This insurance is very good," said Biru. "It's saving our assets in a bad year."
And perhaps it's that confidence that is also helping her take other well-considered risks that are allowing her to build a more secure future for her family.
In 2009, the first year weather insurance was available, Biru joined a group of 10 farmers and together they bought a pump to irrigate some of their crops. Her contribution was 4,000 birr—or about $235. In 2010, with the proceeds from an abundant harvest of peppers, Biru was able to pay off the loan for her share of the pump.
Soon after, she took an even bigger plunge: With a new loan, she invested 14,000 birr, or about $823, in her own pump, available to use whenever she needs it. In August, she had already reaped 2,000 birr-worth of peppers from her field, and was looking forward to continuous harvests in the future.
"This is more productive compared to maize," said Biru. "Maize you harvest once. This you harvest every week."
Peppers won't be her only cash crop from this newly irrigated land. Scattered amidst the plants are 60 orange tree seedlings and 30 mango tree seedlings.
"If we manage it very well, we can start the first harvest (from the trees) after four years," Biru said.
For all Biru's progress, farming in Tigray is not an easy undertaking. And one of the biggest challenges, she said, is the cost of fertilizer. The price keeps climbing.
"It's 1,000 birr per quintal (or about $58 for 220 pounds)," said Biru, recalling when it was a fraction of that price two decades ago. "Our land can't perform well without fertilizer, but fertilizer is very expensive…Most of our money is invested in fertilizer."
But most of her pride is invested in her children: all six of them have been able to attend school. Her oldest son has a degree in accounting and a daughter has a degree in engineering. Three of the others are still making their way through, while a middle son has decided to stop his education and assume—eventually—responsibility for his parents and the land they have worked so hard to cultivate.
Weather insurance may make his job, and the job of countless farmers like him, easier in the years ahead. The initiative is now set to expand into three new countries with the help of the World Food Programme. And its focus has broadened to promote a variety of tools that will help rural families build their resilience including access to credit, the encouragement to save, and steps to reduce the risks of disaster.
]]>It did not have to be this way.
About 190 miles east of Yabello in the Liben District of the Guji Zone, a group of people have managed to escape this horrible fate through a project that helped them create a new means of earning a living while maintaining their pastoralist way of life. A small-scale irrigation initiative, supported by Oxfam America and its partners, has allowed the dream of some of the people of Melka Guba and to become a reality: They are now growing enough food to ensure their families can eat.
Here, in late August, things look much different from the surrounding areas. Smiles brighten the faces of men, women and children, and healthy cattle graze on the dried corn stalks and leaves strewn across the fields from the recent harvest.
In response to a 2008 drought that hit this region hard, Oxfam America worked with a local partner and the regional government on an emergency and recovery project that helped link disaster relief to longer-term development. The first phase focused on saving lives and livelihoods. This was followed by steps that helped villagers analyze their situation and reorganize themselves with a goal of building their assets and strengthening their means of making a living. That is when the people of Melka Guba decided to diversify their livelihoods: In the face of a changing climate they determined to try farming with the help of the new small-scale irrigation network along the nearby Dawa River.
In spite of the fact that this herding community had little prior experience with irrigation, the 64 hectares of irrigated land have now become a life line for more than 201 households in the area.
Mero Abdo, a 30-year-old mother of three, said, “I thank the day I joined this irrigation project. We see how others are suffering everywhere, but my children go to sleep full. I feel really happy I can even help others who are not part of the irrigation community and are having a problem feeding their children.”
Revered by her community, Abdo is a strong woman and one of the first 101 women selected to participate in the irrigation project.
“I was excited from the beginning since I used to hear about irrigation on the radio and I knew it would change our lives,” she said. Abdo not only serves as a member of the irrigation management committee as well as its treasurer, but she is one of the few women to take on all farming activity on her own.
For most of the participants, this third harvest was their best yet. Abdo managed to produce 14 quintals of corn on a quarter hectare of land (about .6 acres), more than from either of the previous two harvests.
“I used the line-sowing technique this year and produced more,” she said. “I plan to use seven quintals to feed my family and sell the rest to pay for my children’s school, buy cattle, or start a small trading business.”
Abdub Bora, a 40-year-old farmer and father of eight, proudly showed us his traditional storage silo filled to the brim with corn from his last harvest.
“This time I produced 15 quintals of corn on my quarter hectare of land,” said Bora. He told us he is planning to use eight quintals and sell the remaining seven quintals to meet the other needs of his family. “I have eight children and four are still in school. I will use the money to buy books and use some of it in case my family gets sick,” added Bora.
Bora’s wife lives in Melka Guba, about 10.5 miles from the irrigation site, where their children can attend school.
“We don’t mind the separation. The main thing is to have enough to eat and allow our children to finish school,” said Bora. “My wife brings me food I can easily cook here and she even comes and works with me during the busiest farming season.”
The reach of this irrigation project spans further than the community itself. Thanks to the river-fed harvest, the households participating in this project are one of the few sources of corn seed in the Liben District.
When the project started, each of the 201 households were allotted a quarter hectare of irrigable land in accordance with government regulations. But not everyone was convinced the irrigation would work and some abandoned their plots. To avoid wasting water, the irrigation management committee offered those plots to neighboring farmers who would be capable of using them.
Hussein Gufar, a 44-year-old father of six, was one of the lucky ones who received one of the adjacent parcels. During the most recent harvest, he produced 25 quintals of corn on a half hectare of land (about 1.2 acres).
“We said this could change our fate,” said Gufar, who is a member of a task force that ensures the daily operation of the irrigation system. “We were not sure at first but now we have more confidence and plan to work even harder.” A pile of corn sacks in the middle of his field is proof of his commitment and hard work.
Beyond the families the project has helped, it has also blessed the community’s most valuable asset—the cattle, which now feed on the stalks and leaves left after the harvest.
“We are not only able to feed our animals but we sell the rest of the maize residue to the surrounding community for additional income,” added Gufar. The price of that fodder has increased four times in one year which reflects the desperate situation most of the surrounding community is in.
The irrigation effort is not without challenges and does not address all of the community’s needs. Community members are aware they will have to work together to reap the maximum benefit of this investment. Some of the concerns they have expressed include the high cost of transportation, which limits farmers to growing only longer-lasting produce, such as onions; the rising cost of generator fuel; and minimal support from the government in terms of providing training and helping connect farmers with markets.
“We are now only producing onions and tomatoes for home consumption. If we could reach the right market and access reasonable transportation, we could earn more money and increase our income,” said Gufar.
During the last harvest, the irrigation participants contributed 10,700 birr ($629) of which 10,000 ($588) was used for generator fuel and to pay for the seeds some had borrowed.
Many efforts are underway to improve the quality of life in the area. Among other things, this project fostered the construction of a three-room school that is managed by the pastoralist commission. In addition, a health post is also being planned for the site.
Melka Guba farmers are eager to start the next planting season. To use the irrigation system efficiently, all their plots need to be ready for sowing at the same time—so water isn’t wasted. Farmers are now working on that coordination.
And along with the irrigation has come something else: peace of mind. Project participants can now have access to food all year round. They will no longer suffer the harsh consequences of drought nor be dependent on others to feed their families.
]]>The airlift will include water tanks and pipes to set up water points across the capital city as well as tons of soap bars and 12,000 jerry cans so people can carry and store water. There is sufficient aid to reach over 120,000 people.
Oxfam partner organization, Hijra which operates in Mogadishu and the outskirts of the capital, has seen an increase in cholera cases. Hijra staff have reported that cases affecting children and women are on the rise. The organization has started a cholera prevention program that is reaching 20,000 people in three camps for people who have fled to Mogadishu. The work includes distributing oral rehydration salts and soap and a public information campaign advising on ways to reduce the risk of contracting the disease.
“Clean water and soap are vital to help prevent a public health crisis, as people weakened by hunger are particularly at risk of disease. With the recent cholera outbreak in the Mogadishu, this assistance will save lives. Despite the many challenges of operating in Somalia, Oxfam has years of experience working with partners there to reach people in need.” said Adan Kabelo, Associate Country Director for Oxfam in Somalia.
Oxfam partners operate across the country, and are running the largest public health program in Somalia, providing clean water to 250,000 displaced Somalis in camps outside Mogadishu. Oxfam’s partner agencies also operate one of the largest therapeutic feeding programs for children and mothers, feeding 3,000 severely malnourished children every week.
Across the country, 3.7 million people—nearly half of the Somali population—are now in crisis, two-thirds of whom reside in the south. Oxfam aims to scale-up its programs to reach 1.4 million people within the next few months.
Oxfam has been working in Somalia for over 20 years. The agency, which operates in partnership with local aid organizations, has so far helped over 850,000 in South Somalia, including Mogadishu.
Puddles swallow trucks to their underbellies. And everywhere, green sweeps the hillsides: delicate shoots of teff, so vibrant it looks lit from within, mix with fields of corn, the stalks thickening by the day and inching skywards.
But here in this village of about 1,100 households in Ethiopia’s northern region of Tigray, they’re holding their breath. Will the rain stay steady? Will it fall in enough abundance to fatten the grains and produce a bountiful harvest on which so many here depend?
At night, in my hotel room in Abi Adi, I listen as the rain pelts the metal roofs and pours into the courtyards and muddy streets below. I think about all the uncertainties farmers in Adi Ha face, and then I think about the south and what happens when those uncertainties become life-threatening. There, where southern Ethiopia, northern Kenya, and south-central Somalia meet, a severe drought and food crisis has snared almost 12 million people, farmers and herders both. The UN has already declared famine in two parts of Somalia. And some areas of the region are the driest they have been in six decades.
Though the rain in Tigray brings hope, nothing is certain. Not when the weather has become increasingly erratic. And not when the vast majority of farmers rely on rain to feed their fields. Countless families here—like those now struggling in the south—have known the ravages of drought.
But in Adi Ha, and a growing number of communities in Tigray, farmers now have a means of managing some of that unpredictability: weather insurance for their crops.
Initiated in 2007 by Oxfam America and a host of partners, including the Relief Society of Tigray and Swiss Re, a new program has found a way for even the poorest farmers to afford insurance. Instead of cash, these farmers can pay for their premiums with labor, a resource they have in abundance. If insufficient rain falls during a critical period of the growing cycle, and their teff, wheat, or barley suffers, farmers will receive a payout—an infusion of cash that can help them cover their losses and weather the rough times.
“This insurance is very good,” said Selas Samson Biru, who paid 200 birr ($11.75) this year to cover half a hectare of teff—a tiny grain that is a staple of the Ethiopian diet. “The insurance is good because it’s saving our assets in a bad year.”
As she spoke, a heavy sky pressed down on the fields of Adi Ha. Nearby, farmers coaxed their oxen through rocky fields, hurrying to plow and plant. It felt like rain. But Biru was worried still. She expected her corn would be OK, but the teff?
“We have some doubt,” she said.
Readings at a small rain gauge across the river from one of Biru’s fields showed that, on the Ethiopian calendar for July, rain had fallen on only seven days until a thorough dousing on July 24, when 50 millimeters (2 inches) soaked the fields. Before then, the heaviest rain measured just 30 millimeters (1.2 inches).
With the green that rain has brought to Adi Ha, it’s hard to fathom just how dry the south is. And in fact Biru, far from any access to the Internet or TV, said she had not heard about the drought and suffering there.
“We are sorry about that news,” she said, worry creasing her brow. “We feel that type of drought might come to us.” And then she brightened.
“Have they bought insurance?” Biru asked. “This is one of the most important things that needs to be scaled up.”
That’s in the works. Through a new partnership, Oxfam America and the World Food Programme, together with Swiss Re, are helping to bring this insurance model—and a package of other resource-management techniques including savings, credit, and disaster risk reduction strategies—deeper into Ethiopia and across three new countries.
It won’t come in time to help families in the south, but the disaster there may finally spur some serious international interest in finding long-term solutions—like weather insurance—to the devastation drought brings.
]]>The United Nations estimates that $1 billion is needed to stave off a major humanitarian catastrophe, yet only around $200 million in new money has been provided over these last two critical weeks. In 1984-85 when a major famine was declared in the region, more than 1 million were killed. With aid agencies battling to cope with the scale of the crisis, Oxfam said it was morally indefensible that several countries and donors had failed to contribute generously.
“A crisis of this magnitude must not be allowed to happen again,” said Ray Offenheiser, president of Oxfam America. “It is in no way inevitable and solutions do exist. The worst affected areas have endured decades of marginalization and economic under-development. If more action had been taken earlier we would not now be at the stage where so many people are facing starvation.”
In the short-term the $800 million black hole in the aid response to the crisis must be filled but governments and donors must also do more in the long-term to address the issues that have made people vulnerable in the first place.
The UK has so far led the way in recently pledging new aid. To fill the funding black hole, other traditional big donors such as the US will need to make comparable, new contributions as over the last couple of weeks the US has only pledged $15 million in new money. In southern Somalia where famine has been declared and where 3 million people are in need of assistance the USG is not responding. While the US has given $57,209,208 in assistance to date to Somalia, most if not all of this assistance has gone to northern and central Somalia.
“The USG should be commended for starting to ramp up its response to the drought in the fall of last year” said Offenheiser. “However, given the urgency of the crisis, the US needs to immediately restart programs in southern Somalia.”
The European response has been surprisingly slow as well, with donors such as Italy and Denmark so far not providing anything new. The French have been strong on words, calling for an Extraordinary G20 meeting on the issue, but have so far failed to back it up with any additional money. Other donors such as Germany and Spain have made initial contributions but these are small and need to be followed up with more resources as soon as possible. Given the scale of the crisis, donors in the rest of the world will also need to pay their share.
While immediate assistance will help people survive, it is not enough—not in the face of repeated drought, which has now become the norm in the region. Governments and the international community need to treat this as a long-term problem as well as an urgent crisis.
As well as chronic neglect, in some areas people’s ability to cope with drought has also been undermined by land policies that restrict access to grazing areas, and by the ongoing conflict in Somalia which has destroyed much of the country’s infrastructure and exacerbated the refugee crisis which has forced 135,000 people to flee Somalia this year. According to the UN, nearly half the children from southern Somalia seeking safety in Ethiopian refugee camps are arriving malnourished.
Oxfam on the ground
Oxfam is now responding to the crisis by providing life-saving water, sanitation services, food, and cash. The organization aims to reach 3 million people, including 700,000 in Ethiopia, 1.3 million in Kenya, and 500,000 in Somalia, where conflict has increased people’s suffering and malnutrition rates are climbing.
The overall humanitarian requirements for the region this year, according to the UN appeals, are $1.87 billion. These are so far 45 percent funded, leaving a gap of over $1 billion still remaining: gaps of $332 million and $296 million for the Kenya and Somalia UN appeals respectively, and $398 milion for the government-run appeal in Ethiopia.
In the last two weeks there have been new pledges of $205 million, leaving a gap of $800 million still remaining.
The UK has pledged an estimated $145 million in the past two weeks - almost 15 percent of what is needed. While the US has provided $383 million to the drought relief in FY 11, the US has pledged only $15 million in new money in the past two weeks. The EU has pledged around $8 million so far, with more expected in the coming days. Spain has pledged nearly $10 million, Germany around $8.5 million. France has so far not pledged any new money, and Denmark and Italy have said no significant new sums are available.
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It’s dim inside, lit only by the gray afternoon light streaming through the door. But it’s ample enough for me to study their faces— solemn and engrossed—as they listen to their chairwoman, Meshu Babure, tell how this group, whose name means “love” in Afan Oromo, came to be—and how it is now changing the lives of its 150 members.
Outside, the bustle in the association’s compound in Oine Chefo Umbure has stopped for the moment as everyone takes cover. A small crew of men—with the women’s help—has been mixing cement and hauling rocks for the foundation of yet another new building, this one to house the diesel-powered grain mill Jalala recently bought with support from a group of European ambassadors’ spouses who had visited the organization. The association will use the mill to grind grain for their community and generate income for their members.
A hum of activity seems to define the place. Along with the grain mill, the Jalala women are constructing a building to serve as a store for the community, because the market that most people frequent is a long distance off. Across the yard, the frame of a small office building rises next to the grain bank, and sitting in the center of the growing complex is a mud-walled poultry facility. Beyond the compound, with the help of the Center for Development Initiatives, or CDI, an Oxfam partner, Jalala has orchestrated the construction of a school for the community where none had been before. It was to open in September for students through grade four.
The women of Jalala are working this magic in a corner of Shashemene, a district about 155 miles south of Ethiopia’s capital where a drought in 2008 severely hindered the ability of families to feed themselves and left 46 children dead. Food shortages continue to be a problem here, as most people survive by raising animals and farming small plots of land. In August, hope for a healthy harvest hides some of the sorrow that earlier hardship bred: fields of green stretch to the horizon with the promise that maize and wheat may soon fill grain banks that community members established in recent years with the help of CDI and Oxfam.
Much, though, is dependent on the rain— will there be enough to feed the crops?— and on people’s good health to carry on with the hard physical labor a subsistence life demands. As elsewhere in Africa, HIV/ AIDS has taken a toll in this region, leaving people weak and many children orphaned.
It was that sweeping problem that first launched the Jalala Women’s Association and where Meshu Babure heard the earliest whispers of what has now become her calling: to better the lives of women—and their families—in the communities around her.
Babure had completed high school—the only woman in her community to do so— when officials from the local government approached her for help in educating households about HIV and family planning. Together with her sister-in-law, Basha Dachasso, Babure set out on her mission, and the pair was soon joined by two other women. That was nine years ago—in 2001.
Their task expanded when the district’s women’s affairs department decided to get a better understanding of poverty in the area and asked the team to register the names of poor women. As they went, the team picked up new members, growing from 10 to 15, until one day they found themselves collected under a massive oda tree—treasured among Oromia people for a canopy broad enough to shelter whole gatherings from the harsh African sun. There, Jalala’s true work was born: The women decided to turn their attention to the poverty that saddled so many of their neighbors.
“I was touched by a woman with a very severe problem—a woman holding a child on her chest and carrying firewood on her back to the market,” says Babure.
Soon, the group decided to start pooling their money to build a small fund from which members could take loans or draw in times of need. By 2007, the women had managed to stash away 4,000 birr—or about $245—and their ranks had grown to 50. Meanwhile, they had also persuaded the local government to give them access to about six acres of land that they started farming. This year they harvested both potatoes and teff, Ethiopia’s staple grain, and have continued to nurture a small plantation of enset, a drought-resistant plant that is a bulwark against hunger.
So far, they have plowed the income they have earned back into their association, using a chunk of it, for instance, to construct the poultry building. But as other organizations have donated goods to Jalala—heifers and seedlings—the group in turn has distributed them among its members.
As Babure retraces all these steps, members quietly pass around a stack of photos. One in particular stands out—proof of the determination that drives them. It shows a woman marching through the furrows of a field, guiding an ox-drawn plow as it digs deep into the earth. It’s work that men usually do. But the women of Jalala manage just fine.
That independence, though, came at a price. Some of the women’s husbands objected to their wives joining Jalala, which has also worked to change harmful traditional practices in the community—like polygamy. One member showed up at a meeting with blood streaming from her head: her husband had beaten her to prevent her attendance. She came anyway.
Early on, Babure herself was threatened, too, for talking about the rights of women, promoting family planning, and discussing the problems of polygamy and the economic burden it places on families.
“Some people said, ‘We will try to kill you,’” she recalls, knowing she would have to endure intimidation to achieve her goals. But Babure had a role model in Nobel Peace Prize-winner Wangari Maathi, a Kenyan woman who had suffered head injuries when she was attacked for planting trees to protest the deforestation of her country. Babure heard about Maathi and found inspiration in her determination and bravery.
Before the women of Jalala organized themselves, most stayed at home, taking orders from their husbands, says Babure, who, at 32, is not married. To encourage others to join their group, the Jalala women composed a rallying song based on some of their traditions. It’s about a fox, who represents poverty. He threatens to enter the women’s houses and bite them. The only way to fend him off is for the women to come out of their houses and join in unity against him.
“If we come together and shout loudly, people will hear us,” says Babure. “If you shout alone, no one will hear you. They will think you are mad.”
The song worked. New members thronged to the group—and slowly attitudes shifted.
Now, the community views women in one of two ways, says Babure: Either as a member of Jalala, with all the strength and independence that confers, or as someone who is not a member. Though Babure’s brother still refuses to talk to her—he disapproves of the energy she is pouring into the association to the exclusion of all else—even her mother has joined Jalala. And, she notes, many of the members’ husbands are now pitching in to help when it comes time to till the fields.
“We showed we can work,” says Babure. “We can produce. We can make a change.”
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