Longer and earlier rains, coupled with rising temperatures and drought, are creating hunger, disease and devastation in Zambia’s poorest region. Nicole Johnston reports.
On the flood plains of western Zambia the annual rains and the flooding of the Zambezi traditionally herald prosperity and are a key cultural event in the lives of the Lozi people. In a sacred age-old custom, the Litunga (King) calls on his people to leave the lowlands when seasonal flooding begins. This culminates in the spectacular Kuomboka ceremony (meaning “to come out of the water”) in which the Litunga travels in a vast barge from his home on the floodplain to the higher ground.
The flooding makes the lowlands more fertile for grazing livestock and cultivating crops and is traditionally seen as a life-affirming annual event. But in the last two years, the rains have arrived much earlier than usual, and the floodwaters have risen to cover even the high ground to which the villagers usually retreat, resulting in hunger, disease and the loss of hard-earned possessions.
Western Zambia is considered the poorest and most isolated province in the country with 84 per cent of people living in poverty (against a national rate of 64 per cent). For the villagers - who are mostly subsistence fishers and farmers - the early torrential rains and flooding of the uplands is a catastrophe for which they are utterly unprepared.
Villages across the Mongu district have been cut off; many areas are accessible only by boat or even helicopter, and families are marooned on tiny pieces of land and road embankments. In some places, where floodwaters have begun to recede, families have returned to take stock and start rebuilding.
In Liyoyelo village, the Liywalii family has returned after an absence of four months. The floodwater has sloughed away the clay walls of their house waist high, leaving just the bare ribs of reeds and wooden poles. In a corner of the house an ancient radio - once a prized possession and source of news from the outside world - is coated with a thick layer of mud.
“In December the rains came very fast. Within 12 hours the whole yard was flooded. This is the first time we have ever seen that,” says Liywalii Liywalii, 29. “Our house was completely destroyed. Our maize crop is gone and we lost our blankets and clothes because we had to leave so quickly.”
He prods at a couple of sheets of corrugated zinc on the ground. “The wind blew away the zinc from the roof. I will have to save up to buy more - that will take about three years.”
His wife Mukelabai, 25, is still stunned as she looks at what remains of her home. “We put all our children in the canoe and paddled about 25km. We could not save our crops, so we have no food.”
The floods not only destroyed their crops but also their precious seeds, leaving them without the means to plant again. They survive on the tiger-fish Liywalii catches each day, but it is not enough to feed their three children. This is the second year in a row that the water has risen so high, but although the family fears they will be flooded out again next year, moving away permanently is not an option. “This is our land, this is our ancestral village,” says Mukelabai.
Soola village lies on the high ground and does not usually get flooded. This year, the water roared in with a vengeance totally destroying some of the houses, forcing villagers to retreat to the lands they usually use for growing sweet potatoes. Withered and bleached maize stalks are the only remnant of the food that the villagers were relying on to get them to the next harvest. Only a lonely doorframe still stands, all that remains of a family’s home. They have also had to deal with an influx of people seeking refuge from other villages that were totally submerged. Together they have built a huddle of mashasha (makeshift straw shelters) amid the ruins of their crops.
“I think it is the end of time,” says 20-year-old Masela Kababa. “The way the water comes without warning… I am worried. I have three children, aged three months, three years and six years. We come from Namayanga village. It was flooded so we came to ask for space here. My pigs were killed by the water, and my bedding and kitchen utensils fell in the water when we were leaving. We are hungry.”
Hunger is not the only danger communities in this region face: as the waters recede, illnesses such as malaria and diarrhoea also spread rapidly. These have been the worst floods in 40 years, and Zambia is considering declaring a state of emergency. The government of Zambia has been flying relief items to affected communities cut off by floods and instructing others in low-lying areas to migrate to higher areas.
Oxfam is helping communities cope through partner organisation People’s Participation Service. Project officer Fine Nasilele believes the only solution is for the villagers to grow hybrid seeds that mature faster. “Timing is everything. The traditional maize crop gives a higher yield but takes four months to mature. If planted too early, crops will be affected by drought, but if they delay the fields become flooded. Not only that, but the weather is definitely getting hotter, which reduces potential working hours and consequently food production.”
As I travelled across the region, time and again I heard similar stories of hardship and distress. People here aren’t entirely sure what causes the floods or what the solution is but they are very worried that the problem is here to stay.
Oxfam and climate change
Tags: climatechange, drought, nicolejohnston, Zambia
