Mud, Murphy and Memories.

It was my birthday recently and I was totally spoilt. Thank you so much for all the messages and well wishes. I was hell bent on spending the weekend in the bush, camping. But, the rains appeared and it’s also been a bit cool at night so with words like mud, malaria, messy and moody flying around I was whisked off instead to Diani Beach, south of Mombasa. Now I don’t want to make anyone jealous…but it was damn close to paradise in my mind. Two nights of heavenly beach, pool and prosecco. I spent the actual day kicking back, eating ice-cream and sipping on bubbles. Thanks to my now very poor but lovely boyfriend I revelled in luxury. I’m still dying to get into the bush but given the weather it might not be for a while. The Tanzanian winter (it’s still in the high 20’s Celsius, sorry!) has taken root and rain and cold is all I’ll get for now.

I mentioned that I am working on the foundations for a large funding proposal which would bring benefits to three different projects, and very many people.  I went to visit one such project last week and I am still buzzing from my day out. It was one of those great yet productive adventures. The pick –up truck that I have been driving recently had just been in for a service (front suspension buggered, all shock absorbers gone, horn not working among various other rittle rattles that I had acquired from recent other adventures) and I headed off early in the morning. Just over two and a half hours later I got stuck. I was travelling on a 25km stretch on the roughest road you can dream of which in parts had subsided and so had essentially disappeared. I thought I was a dab hand at four wheel drive and know exactly how to get myself out of a muddy situation. Seems I’m an absolute amateur. A couple of local guys were passing and without even asking got straight behind the truck and started pushing. Then others appeared and soon I had a group of six or seven and two women with babies bobbing on their backs on the case. I don’t want to even think about the skid marks that flew up at them when I revved, they did well to avoid them. I think they were probably thinking this Mzungu hasn’t a notion what she’s doing but we’re experts here so let’s get on with it! It took the full revs and loads of pushing to get me out. The men sent me off, all business like and it was the women that created a fuss - put their hands out and asked for money. Needless to say, for every Tanzanian that shows openness to you, gives you hope, another snaps it right back and reminds you of the divisions.

Typically, Murphy was on my back that day and I got stuck twice more. (honestly, you should have seen the so called road). The boys had by then hitched a lift with a large truck and got out each time again to help me out. They were fantastic and I hope that the project is successful because they will most likely benefit.

The purpose of all this was to sit in on a meeting with the board of a health centre. Part of a needs analysis exercise (establishing the actual specific needs of the community and therefore justifying the application) I sat in amongst leaders and chiefs of villages as well as local villagers to hear about the water requirements and needs in the area. There are eight villages and none of them have a water source except during the rainy season when two or three can access water from a mountain source. I kid you not, this place (although wet at the moment) is mostly dry to the core with not a spec of water to be seen. It has a red earthy colour soil which twirls up dust and gets into everything and everywhere. The health centre is also in desperate need as it only has water from the mountain source when it isn’t dry or from the collection of rain water. People often travel for long distances to get to the health centre in the hope of getting water there. There is always a clatter of women with their hands and arms stuck in washing buckets when I arrive. It’s like a day out I often think. The women get to chat and gossip and catch up. Although the day washing and 10km walk home kind of takes the edge of it I’m sure.

Back to the meeting. After about three hours I had listened in on the issues, the possibilities and the challenges ahead and was quietly optimistic. The board agreed to bring the session to the villages and approach the elders so as to talk directly to people on the ground and establish the facts behind the lack of water. Several more meetings and focus groups will therefore now take place where villagers can take part in the discussion and explain how not having water impacts on them. The key thing in all this though will be getting agreement from the people to take ownership of any borehole or water source that is established. They will have to agree to setting up some sort of a system which will collect funds for maintenance. Without this the project isn’t worth my time, or theirs. Statistically water project failures are almost always due to lack of good financial management. I may not be invited to attend the meetings because to have me there could signal that the money already exists and the project is in the bag. I could also be a hindrance for people to share their true opinions. There is a cultural habit of saying yes to everything the white person says or asks and this could be a factor here.

It was a truly refreshing day out. That local people are now taking part with enthusiasm in this needs assessment process is encouraging. They will hopefully become owners and guardians of their most precious and needed resource eventually. Stay tuned for the output of the village meetings!

Oh, I was led out an alternative way to the main route by Fr. A so as to avoid getting stuck again. My wellies are now finally getting back to their original colour!