During the month of May I organized a video workshop with Malawi Instute of journalism students. This video was filmed and edited with seven MIJ students in June 2012.
During the month of May I organized a video workshop with Malawi Instute of journalism students. This video was filmed and edited with seven MIJ students in June 2012.
In Chichewa, the widely-spoken language of southern Malawi, being pregnant or “kunkhala ndi pakati” translates to being in the middle of life and death. For many pregnant Malawian women, however, death comes much sooner.
As the African country with the second highest maternal mortality ratio, Malawi is struggling to eradicate a crisis that in 2006 claimed the lives of would-be mothers at a rate of 807 deaths per 100,000 live births. And while 2006 figures showed an improvement on those of 2004 – 984 deaths per 100,000 live births – the 2010 Malawi Millennium Development Goals Report has already projected that Malawi will not achieve the targets of the fifth MDG to improve maternal health by 2015.
Contributing factors identified in the 2005 Ministry of Health (MoH) “Road Map for Accelerating the Reduction of Maternal and Neonatal Mortality and Morbidity in Malawi” include shortage of staff and weak human resource management, limited availability and utilisation of quality maternal health care services, and weak procurement and logistics systems for drugs, supplies and equipment. Underlying such problems of infrastructure and resources, the report reads, are harmful social and cultural beliefs and practices.
Naswit Chitalo of Namila Village in Traditional Authority (T/A) Mlilima in Chikhwawa District is easily able to recall a time when “most pregnant women were dying from pregnancy complications” because of social and cultural beliefs, which include the belief that the firstborn child should be delivered by a traditional birth attendant (TBA) in the home as opposed to a health facility.
“I actually know of three women we lost in 2009 because they sought the services of elderly women from the village instead of rushing to the hospital,” said Chitalo, adding that TBAs would use herbs to make pregnant women “feel so confident about the outcome of their pregnancy” that professional maternal health care would be neglected altogether.
According to Malawi Health Equity Network (MHEN) Executive Director Martha Kwataine, these kinds of social and cultural beliefs surrounding TBAs have done more harm than good when it comes to maternal mortality in Malawi.
“There have been several researches whose results have shown that traditional birth attendants have made cases on maternal death high because they are not properly equipped,” said Kwataine. “We tried to train them so that they should handle referral cases but they did not comply.”
President Joyce Banda has also added her voice to the case against TBAs; on June 18, after laying a foundation stone for a maternity holding shelter at Mulanje Hospital, the first of 130 holding shelters pledged as part of the Presidential Initiative on Safe Motherhood launched in April, Banda told TBAs to stop offering delivery services to expectant women.
“Traditional birth attendants must stop giving delivery services,” she said at the function, adding that “traditional birth attendants can have a good role to play… because they are experienced they can be referral point.”
News of the ban on TBAs has been met with both controversy and commendation throughout the country. But to women like Chitalo, the rationale behind the ban is not news at all; as one of the T/As where the Centre for Alternatives for Victimised Women and Children (CAVWC) has been working to realize the MoH Road Map objective of improving obstetric care, a new, “good role” for TBAs is already one of Mlilima’s best kept secrets.
In 2010, CAVWC identified two women in each village of T/A Mlilima and T/A Kasisi to be “Secret Women.” The women, many of whom had been working as TBAs, attended three days of training on maternal health using a standardized MoH handbook.
According to CAVWC Project Officer Talimba Bandawe, women like Chitalo were trained to take on four main roles and responsibilities: referring pregnant women to antenatal facilities by carrying out door-to-door campaigns; educating women on family planning; collaborating with Village Health Committees to form Community Safe Motherhood Task Forces and conduct awareness-raising community meetings; and recording how many pregnant women deliver in the community or in a health facility.
“We depend on these Secret Women because they have been trained; they can convince a woman on the importance of delivery at a health facility with a skilled attendant, because in the rural areas they are used to having TBAs,” said Bandawe. “We’re trying to change that mindset – that anything could happen with a TBA so it’s better to deliver at a health facility.”
Bandawe said the women are called “Secret Women” because of the social and cultural beliefs and practices surrounding pregnancy in Malawi.
“When you talk about traditions and beliefs, the pregnant woman is vulnerable,” she said, adding that traditional beliefs in witchcraft scare some women off of sharing how many months they are into their pregnancy.
“The concept of Secret Women is based on that whatever you talk about with a Secret Woman should be kept confidential,” she continued. “Whatever issues that you discuss, the Secret Woman is not expected to go and disclose that anywhere because some of the things can be really private.”
According to Esnart Dzoma, who has been volunteering as a Secret Woman in Namila Village for two years, “the most important thing is confidentiality.”
“If I begin to shout that ‘so and so sought this help from me’ they will inform each other, and we will have the health problems that used to compound issues such as pregnancy again,” said Dzoma. “I have an obligation to help these women with compassion, and without malice… the secret to being an effective Secret Woman is to be open-minded.”
Based on principles of compassion and confidentiality, Bandawe said the Secret Women project has helped to address some of the harmful social and cultural beliefs and practices, “especially through the door-to-door campaigns” as pregnant women have been comforted by and more likely to accept confidential counselling.
“The Secret Women were really successful in that a number of women were referred to the hospital,” she said, adding that other Road Map interventions such as the provision of bicycle ambulances and village bylaws enforcing fines for births that take place outside of a health facility have also contributed to the success of the initiative.
The data collected by the Secret Women also speaks to their success; in 2009, when CAVWC was working to reach out to practicing TBAs and provide safe-birthing training and equipment, approximately 30 percent of pregnant women in the two T/As were reportedly giving birth at a health facility. In 2012, the Secret Women are reporting that 54 percent of pregnant women are now giving birth at a health facility.
But despite their success, Bandawe said that the new role for TBAs has not been implemented without resistance.
“Some women still resist the counseling of the Secret Women, and sometimes even the husband can be a challenge,” she said.
“There are some materials that the hospital recommends that you should have when you go to the hospital – a plastic paper, a razor blade and a basin. Some of the husbands don’t welcome this idea, so (the Secret Women) have a negative reception from some of the families.”
For their part, Bandawe said that CAVWC will “revive the Secret Women” by holding refresher training courses at the end of June.
“It is really important to have these sorts of people in the communities, mainly in the rural areas where literacy levels are low,” she said.
“Maybe after there has been a lot of sensitization, when everyone even in the rural communities is aware of the health benefits of delivering at the hospital and when we have managed to reduce the maternal mortality ratio, that’s when we can do without the Secret Women. But right now, they still have a major role to play.”
With files from Richard Chirombo and Madalitso Musa
I’ll never forget my first day in a Malawian newsroom.
I came in eager, ready to utilize countless hours of preparation and training done in Toronto. I was rushing around like a mad woman, introducing and explaining myself to everyone. I figured first impressions were the key to success in any new job.
I wanted instant gratification.
I wanted results.
After all, there were gripping stories everywhere I looked, and my inner-journalist wanted to start telling them immediately. I thought I was doing everything right until an editor pulled me aside, and said,
“You’ll have to be patient. We move at a much slower pace here.”
I was speechless.
It was my first day, and I had already overlooked a key intercultural difference – the value of time.
In Malawi, things get done when they get done. Time is not the tool used to structure, plot and organize because you are in a constant battle with resources. Anything and everything has the potential to backfire due to factors beyond your control.
There may be no fuel for transport, no phone cards to call sources, no recorders for your looming radio report, no internet for research and no electricity to write your script.
People are also speed bumps. If I’ve learnt anything, it’s that functions never start when they’re supposed to, and sources to be interviewed have a 49 per cent chance of showing up.
Malawian journalism is slow journalism; an oxymoron that’s taken me months to wrap my head around.
The western stereotype of over-caffeinated reporters anxiously chasing deadlines doesn’t exist here, and as a results-driven individual, it was difficult not to resent this. But those words kept running through my head: “We move at a much slower pace here.”
With patience, understanding, and laughter, working as a journalist in Malawi has taught me to appreciate the journey and not the destination.
It’s in the moments where the odds are stacked against you that you are able to surprise yourself. You compromise, you make backup plans, you adapt. But most importantly, when you learn to move slow your happiness stems from the process, and not the end result. Think of the snail seeing the beauty in every inch of its tedious movement.
I’ll always remember a day I spent out in the field with one of my colleagues. We knew our seven minute special report was due imminently, yet we had no interviews for a variety of reasons, mostly sources not honoring time commitments. On this particular afternoon, there was enough fuel for us to take a motorbike out for interviews. As we cruised down the tree-lined streets of Lilongwe with the wind blowing in our faces, we were grinning from ear to ear because we were so grateful to be out there.
But this is Africa where nothing is predictable.
The bike broke down.
We were stranded.
In this moment, we were given a choice: either we give up, or we soldier on.
We chose the latter, and spent nearly two hours in scorching heat with a group of good humored villagers helping us push-start the bike. When we finally heard the rattle of the engine, we felt untouchable, invincible, elated. It was a small win, seemingly insignificant, but it spoke volumes about our commitment to getting the story.
Our report (which almost missed deadline and was severely lacking in resources) was honored with an award from the Media Institute of Southern Africa, Malawi Chapter. But even if it hadn’t won, I would’ve been content with the memories of producing it despite the overwhelming obstacles.
This experience was one of many that radically altered my perspective on North America.
In Canada, the paradox of our society flooded with endless resources is that we have more conveniences, but less time. Our unlimited access to technology is supposed to makes our lives easier, but it just means we can do more things at once. We are too afraid of slowing down, of being confronted by life without distraction. The ultimate goal of accomplishment is our main motivating factor, so much so that we forget to stop and smell the roses along the way.
Now, when I walk to work or to the grocery store, I don’t speed walk like I would on the bustling streets of downtown Toronto. Instead, I casually stroll and allow my surroundings to leave an impression.
The street vendors sometimes laugh, and say,
“Hey! My sistah! Why you not rushing like the other Mzungu’s?”
It makes me smile.
“I was detained, in jail for 7 days for no reason,” said Comfort Chitseko, who was arrested by Malawi police in October for allegedly conducting demonstration without authority consent and seditious act (according to Malawi police).
“I was having lunch with my cousin before I was arrested. They put me in the local jail cell and then they eventually transferred me to Maula Prison. I did absolutely nothing wrong,” he said.
During the time of Comfort’s arrest, the country was in chaos. The July 2011 protests caused tension across the nation.
Comfort now awaits a court hearing for the false accusations. He is not the only one who has experienced the flagrant abuse of power by the police.
“Time and time we experience that the society is saying that we mishandle suspects,” says Commissioner Nelson Bophani from Malawi’s Police Service in Lilongwe’s central region.
Since the infamous July 20, 2011, protests, the Malawi Police Service has yet to recover from their unjust and violent reputation.
Many police authorities recognize Malawians’ criticisms of police’s arbitrary arrest and even brutality. The Police Service understands that kindling a relationship with the public is what the nation needs.
“The public is expecting a lot from us,” said Detective Lucy Mkute from Kanengo Police Service.
She feels that changes are already being made within the Police Service. “We are respecting human rights and the rule of law,” she said.
Many changes have been made in government administration since the leadership of Honorable Joyce Banda, including the replacement of the Inspector-General of the Malawi Police Service.
Since being appointed, the new Inspector-General, Commissioner Loti Dzonzi has initiated an ‘Investigative Interviewing Skills’ workshop for all investigators and prosecutors in the Police Service.
“It is the desire of the inspector-general that we change the image of the Police Service,” said Commissioner Bophani. “His intention is to do it by imparting skills to all investigators and prosecutors.”
Commissioner Bophani stated the Inspector-General believes that implementing a course in Investigative Interviewing Skills may also help reduce police violations.
“The Police Service needs to avoid using torture and violence – instead we should use our skills. It’s what Malawi needs.”
Across Malawi, 5000 women have been trained by Annie Bonomali, a mother of six who’s been involved in making products such as soap, jam and oil out of tree leaves and seeds. What started out to be a family business in 1994 rapidly evolved into making Malawian women financially independent.
“In 1998, the International I foundation called and asked me to train my fellow women in soap & jam making, mushroom growing and oil processing. Overall, I’ve trained 5000 women in 26 districts. Nchisi and Karonga are the only districts I haven’t been too”, explains Mrs. Bonomali.
Even though she studied tailoring, over the past 20 years it’s the Jatropha, Baobab, Moringa and Neem trees that provided Mrs. Bonomali with the sufficient source of income to send her children to university.
This is why she agreed to train her fellow women when she was approach by several NGOs and later registered her own business as Khumbo oil Refinery and Consultancy.
“I wanted them to improve their lives and depend on themselves not on their husbands, uncles or brothers. Life will be hard for these women if the people they depend on end up dying. In the villages a lot of women rely on their husbands to take care of them”, she says.
Currently 150 women work hand in hand with Mrs. Bonomali in the Michiru district. It takes five hours for the women to extract ten liters of oil from the baobab seeds. Every 250ml bottle is sold out for 500 kwacha, which amounts to two Canadian dollars.
However, Mrs. Bonomali admits that involving women in generating income activities is challenging since they are most likely not to have access to loans. Another issue is that many men refuse to see their wives being empowered; being afraid that earning their own money will make them too independent.
Like mother, like daughter
While many women in Malawi were recently initiated to the business culture, it is not the case for Mrs. Bonomali who admits that her business idea came from her grandmother. After practicing tailoring for 14 years, she thought it was time for her to follow the path of the woman who had inspired her own mother before her.
“My grandmother and my mother were both business women. They had a garden were they pound ground nuts and sell the powder”, she explains.
Even though Mrs. Bonomali grew up surrounded by business women and has been exporting her products to foreign countries such as Japan for more than 20 years now, the inaccessibility to funds makes it very difficult for her business grow as she would like.
“If I receive an order today, the bank will still refuse to grant me the loan that will help me process it and won’t giving me any reason for declining it. Most people here in Malawi do things politically. People look at you, who you are, who you are supporting politically and if your business is profitable to them”, she admits.
Though Mrs. Bonomali is yet to reach her goal of expanding her business, time and commitment enabled her to get her products known across the country. While her products are available in various drugstores around Blantyre, she admits that word of mouth remains so far the best advertising to help sell her products.
The old “respect your elders” adage has customarily been an important part of Malawian culture, with the elderly able to depend on the social and economic support of their children and the community. However, the HIV/AIDS epidemic has had a crippling impact on family composition and tradition.
While the 2012 Malawi Country AIDS Response Progress Report found that from the start of the epidemic the number of deaths per annum had been reduced from nearly 100,000 to approximately 48,000 in 2010, the report also found that the number of children orphaned by AIDS has been on the rise.
Antenatal Clinic sero-surveys (surveys of blood serum) found that the number of children orphaned by AIDS increased from 576,458 in 2010 to 612,908 in 2011. And with over half of orphans being cared for by their grandparents, men like Lucius Dimiano of Kafupa Village will be celebrating their 70th birthday before that of their retirement.
At 68-years-old, Dimiano is still working three jobs to support six grandchildren orphaned by AIDS. He works as a guard from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. at a nearby church, goes to the garden to get maize for his family, weaves baskets to sell at the market and then, does it all over again.
“I cannot sleep, so it’s hard,” Dimiano said. “As a night guard, I need to always be awake because sometimes there are thieves in the dark.
“When I knock off in the morning I go to the garden, when I knock off in the garden I eat and then I start making baskets so I can make more money, but it’s still not enough to care for all six grandchildren.”
In the same township of Chigumula, 55-year-old Mrs. Kandikole has also lost children to AIDS; her oldest daughter passed away in 2005 orphaning one grandchild, and her second oldest daughter passed away in 2010 orphaning three grandchildren.
“I’m the one who’s left looking out for them,” she said. “And not only those four; I have other grandchildren at my home who have only a mother but not a father.
“It’s very difficult for me to look after these children because I’m very old. I’m not working,” she continued. “Things are very expensive here in Malawi. Food is very expensive. I cannot manage to buy clothes for them. It is very difficult for me to take them to the hospital. To get good medicine, one needs to pay money at private hospitals, but I can’t manage to do all those things.”
Kandikole said she had been working at a nursery school, but had to quit when her daughters died because “(her) grandchildren were alone, so (she) had to look after these children all by (herself).”
She said her husband, 57, is still working as a telephone operator but “he makes very little money.”
“I don’t think he will be able to continue working much longer because he is now 57 years old and his body is very weak. He is very sick,” she said, adding that they both suffer from chronic bouts of malaria. “Before, we could manage to do all those things, but not now.”
Without the proper means or support, Kandikole said she “couldn’t manage to send (her) grandchildren to school, because when you want to send a child to school these days, even a government school, you need to buy a uniform, pencils, exercise books and the child needs to eat porridge.”
She said her grandchildren “were just staying at home” until they were accepted at the Jacaranda School for Orphans in Limbe, a free primary and secondary school in Malawi providing education and daily meals to orphans.
“If we did not have Jacaranda, these children would just be doing nothing at home,” she said. “They go to school without taking anything. If Jacaranda didn’t provide porridge I don’t know what we could do. Before, I thought my children would go to school up to college and help their children by themselves. But their deaths brought everything down.”
The late Nelley Daniel M’maligeni of Che Mboma Village suffered in the same way.
Deaf and blind, M’maligeni struggled to care for herself yet alone her grandson, Vincent, who was orphaned by AIDS. In March, at the age of 105, M’maligeni passed away and Vincent lost another primary caretaker.
According to M’maligeni’s daughter-in-law, M’maligeni and Vincent had been sleeping in a small hut.
M’maligeni’s daughter-in-law said her family was able to give extra food to M’maligeni and Vincent once a week, but “sometimes it (was) hard because there (was) not enough money. Sometimes M’maligeni (could) not eat.
“Sometimes we just (bought) panado, because panado is cheap,” she said.
Dimiano, Kandikole and M’maligeni are each representative of the ways that elderly Malawians are struggling to survive in the wake of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. According to the Catholic University of Malawi’s December 2010 report “Impact of HIV and AIDS on the elderly: a case study of Chiladzulu district,” 59 percent of the enrolled elderly people had difficulty sourcing money for school uniforms, food and hospital bills for orphaned grandchildren; 55 percent were affected through the sickness and death of their children; and 22 percent had to halt their own development to take care of orphaned grandchildren, spending their reserved resources to make the lives of their grandchildren better while impoverishing themselves in the process.
When asked if there can be greater relief for elderly Malawians struggling to care for themselves and their orphaned grandchildren than panado, an over-the-counter pain medication, Finance Minister Ken Lipenga said that government has put in place safety net programmes that target both the elderly and other vulnerable people in the 2012/13 National Budget.
“These programmes are aimed at assisting the poorest in our communities to cope with life,” he said, adding that during the 2012/13 fiscal year programmes will be scaled up to capture those that may have fallen below the poverty line due to devaluation.
“A total of K27.5 billion has been provided for four programmes, mainly the Intensive Public Works Programme, the School Feeding Programme targeted towards 980,000 pupils in primary schools, the Schools Bursaries Programme targeting 16,480 needy students, and the Social Cash Transfer Programme which will reach over 30,000 households across the country.”
But until social cash transfers can be expanded to cover the whole country or non-contributory pensions can be provided to ensure income security for the majority of elderly Malawians who have never worked in the formal sector, government will continue to miss men and women like Dimiano and Kandikole who are fighting for the survival of their family and against the intergenerational transmission of poverty, often without sufficient resources or physical strength to do so.
As Dimiano put it: “If I still had children that could help me, I could have just stayed home, but there is no one to help me, I’m only working because of my grandchildren.
“The only ones who can decide if I stop working are my grandchildren. Maybe they will see that we are very old and cannot work anymore and they will help us. But maybe they will finish school and go away.
“At the moment, I do not know.”
With files from Richard Chirombo.
Not long after cutting their teeth, North American children are encouraged to call forward their dreams and consider the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
The kindergartners’ query is not a foreign concept in Malawi – in fact, up to December 2010 Blantyre Newspapers Limited’s (BNL) Saturday paper Malawi News regularly ran a “When I Grow Up” piece encouraging parents to help their children picture and pledge their ambition for the future.
At the same time the query is not yet ubiquitous – as a country that ranks in the lowest group on the Human Development Index (171 out of 187 countries in 2011), problems such as poverty and underdevelopment mean that for many, filling their stomach is difficult enough to do without considering the most fulfilling way to do it. And for 21-year-old Alinafe Phiri and her friends at the Nkhata Bay boma, it means that when you ask what they want, they simply tell you how it is instead.
According to Phiri, it isn’t uncommon for girls to be taken from their homes in Nkhata Bay to “faraway places” where they work as house girls. Others are taken from their homes to work in bars.
“This is considered normal because they are paid something at the end of the day,” she said. “Isn’t it normal for someone to be taken from their homes for work in faraway areas? What about those that leave their villages and work elsewhere in cities or otherwise?”
No mention is made of the use of force implicated in being taken to faraway places for work – a form of human trafficking – or of unrealized universal human rights to free movement and free choice of employment.
To raise awareness of such rights abuses, Norwegian Church Aid (NCA) held a public discussion at the Nkhata Bay Conference Centre on May 16. Three panellists were on hand: Youth Net and Counselling (YONECO) District Manager for Nkhata Bay Wezzie Mtonga, Nkhata Bay Police Station Community Policing Coordinator Brown Ngalu and NCA Programme Coordinator for Human Trafficking Habiba Osman.
During the discussion, Mtonga said that the area is a “hotspot of instances of human trafficking” for the purposes of labour, sexual exploitation, organ removal, or domestic servitude, and that Malawian women like Phiri are the most vulnerable to being victimised “because of their vulnerability when it comes to economic issues.”
“One of the reasons people fall victim to human trafficking is they are looking for greener pastures, and when they go there, things are different,” she said. “Malawians are vulnerable and they don’t have access to (anti-trafficking) laws.”
Osman, one of the commissioners involved in the drafting of an anti-trafficking bill in 2007, took the opportunity to stress that “the bill is ready, cabinet approved it, so what we need is parliamentarians to discuss it and pass it into law to give us a framework on what should be done and who should be doing what.”
“The problem is huge, it is diverse,” she said. “We need awareness, we need a lot of capacity building not only for the police but other service providers, and we also do need proper data collecting mechanisms.
“We do not have people coming to report on cases of human trafficking because they have been not been trained to collect data, they have not been trained to identify the victims; they have not been trained to identify the traffickers,” she continued. “Even our parliamentarians also need training on these issues.
“A new cabinet means that new people are in place. We need to put pressure on them to tackle these issues.”
In the interim, Osman cited Section 27 of the Malawi Constitution, which prohibits slavery, as a standing protection against human trafficking or “modern-day slavery.” She also cited the Employment Act, the Penal Code, the Corrupt Practices Act, Immigrations policies and the Corrupt Practices Act as statutes that criminalise certain transactions appearing in the various forms of trafficking.
Despite Malawi having adopted the United Nations Protocol to Prevent, Suppress and Punish Trafficking in Persons in 2005 and making progress towards the guarantee of protections for children with the launch of a universal and compulsory birth registration process this March, the International Trade Union Confederation 2011 report for the World Trade Organization on Internationally Recognised Core Labour Standards in Malawi found that, “Trafficking is a problem and is conducted mainly for the purposes of forced labour for males and commercial sexual exploitation for females, as well as child trafficking which has also been steadily rising.”
“Typically the traffickers deceive their victims by offering them false promises of employment or education in the country of destination. In Malawi there are also estimated to be between 500 and 1500 women and children who are victims of internal trafficking,” reads the report.
“In 2009 the authorities arrested and prosecuted child traffickers who intended to deliver boys to cattle herders. Other usual destinations of internally trafficked persons are the tobacco plantations, domestic servitude, and small businesses.”
The United States Department of State 2011 Trafficking in Persons Report for Malawi further found that while government “is making significant efforts” the country still “does not fully comply with the minimum standards for the elimination of trafficking.”
“Adults in forced prostitution or forced labour and children exploited in domestic service and prostitution still did not receive adequate attention and the government prosecuted no such offences during the reporting period,” reads the report.
“While one trafficking offender received a short prison sentence, most convictions resulted in sentences of fines or out-of-court settlements with compensation to victims, both of which failed to provide an adequate deterrent.”
While comprehensive anti-trafficking law enforcement statistics were unavailable, the report found that some individual districts provided data on their actions, totalling 18 prosecutions, 11 of which concluded with convictions.
“Although the government prosecuted and convicted offenders using existing legislation, only one of nine convicted offenders served jail time and sentences varied widely across district courts,” the report continues. “Additionally, labour inspectors and child protection officers were trained to seek remuneration for workers in labour dispute cases – including forced labour – rather than to refer to law enforcement for prosecution.”
According to the report, “the government’s continued failure to seek criminal prosecution of forced labour offenses with significant prison sentences hinders an effective response to Malawi’s trafficking problem.”
In Malawi, the Inter-Ministerial Taskforce on Human Trafficking, led by the Ministry of Gender, Child Development and Community Development; the National Steering Committee on Orphans and Vulnerable Children; and the National Steering Committee on Child Labour have responsibility for trafficking issues.
Individuals who are aware of any incident of human trafficking in Malawi can contact the YONECO anonymous National Help Line for assistance by calling 8000-1234. YONECO encourages victims of human trafficking to call the help line as the centre will mobilise to free them and provide counselling and support.
With files from BNL-Mzuzu Bureau Chief Karen Msiska
With two hands gripping the steering wheel and the right turn signal flashing, 21-year-old Vanessa Nsona’s concentration does not waver when a minibus caller passing by her driver seat window lets out a shrill catcall – she is about to complete her third driving lesson and she’s part of an increasing number of Malawian women who are doing so.
According to Precious Kumbatila, the director of Blantyre’s Apule Driving School, female students in Malawi have been enrolling at increasingly higher numbers over recent years.
“When we opened in 2003, most of our students were male,” said Kumbatila. “Very few women came in.
“It was in 2004 when we had the second government that women started learning to drive,” he said. “At that time there were a lot of vehicles coming into the country; a lot of families were buying cars, and as a result, men started wanting their wives and their girl children to learn how to drive.”
Although Kumbatila said the poorly performing economy adversely affected enrolment numbers for both male and female students in 2011, he added that overall, the gender gap is narrowing. In 2008, 163 female students registered for driving lessons at Apule compared to 301 male students. In 2011, 190 female students registered for lessons compared to 282 male students.
For Nelly Kalunga, a single mother working full-time and currently taking driving lessons at Apule, learning to drive is a “privilege” and will mean a new skill set, new opportunities and economic empowerment.
“Nowadays, women are given chances to do what men do,” Kalunga said. “I decided to start driving because I want to be like the men who are driving.
“If I have a driving license, that means I can do any work that men can do, I’ll have better chances of winning other jobs,” she said. “Myself, I want try to be like the men who work in peacekeeping.”
Kalunga said the jobs that she will be qualified for once she learns how to drive are higher paying and that “the more you learn, the more you can get good things.”
“We used to think that driving was only for men and not for women, but nowadays we’ve seen that even women can drive,” she said. “I think we can be 50/50 with men if most women can drive.”
However, according to Kumbatila, still “very few women can come and pay for lessons on their own” like Kalunga.
At Apule, registration for the 40 required driving lessons costs MK45,000 (CAD180). With the additional costs of the MK4,000 (CAD16) provisionary license, booking a road test for MK4,000 and MK8,000 (CAD32) for the full license if you pass, learning to drive costs over MK60,000 (CAD240) in total.
“It’s the men that pay for the women,” said Kumbatila. “Either their husbands, their boyfriends or workmates. They are trying to push the women to learn how to drive so that they can do their chores on their own.”
Nancy Nyirende is one such woman. A housewife and stay-at-home mother, Nyirende began taking driving lessons at Apule in March after her husband, who has been driving since 2001, decided to register her and pay for her.
“We have two cars now so he wanted me to escort my sons to school,” said Nyirende, adding that none of her female friends drive “because they are poor.”
Despite these roadblocks to closing the gender gap between male and female drivers, Kumbatila said he believes the slowly but surely increasing number of female drivers is steering Malawi in the right direction.
“It is imperative that women drive because driving lifts people’s lives,” he said. “In my mother’s day she was just at home for us, cooking at home. But nowadays [women] can have opportunities. If a woman can improve herself by learning to drive she can get the same kind of opportunities as men. If more women drive, it will empower this country.”
According to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development Social Institutions and Gender Index (SIGI), Malawi was ranked 60 out of 102 countries in the 2009 SIGI and ranked 38 out of 86 in the 2012 SIGI.
In 2011, the Human Development Index for Malawi was 0.400, placing the country at 171 out of 187 countries. For the Gender Inequality Index Malawi received a score of 0.594, placing the country at 120 out of 146 countries with data. Also in 2011, the World Economic Forum ranked Malawi 65 out of 135 countries in its 2011 Global Gender Gap Report, with a score of 0.6850 where 0 represents inequality and 1 represents equality.
A month ago I was approached by George Nedi, projects coordinator at the Nancholi Youth Organization (NAYO), to produce a short video presenting their community-based programs related to youths and HIV/AIDS.
Among their many projects, one I remember most is the construction of a clinic in Mchokera, a village located about three hours walking distance from the downtown Blantyre, in order to ease the access to health services.
The beauty of NAYO is that most of their employees, including George himself, are volunteers devoting their free time for the development of their own community.
When I first visited Nancholi I was by myself and I rapidly realize that even though I could help, the potential of that project was bigger than me taking a few hours of my personal time to realize a ten minutes long video.
Working in media development, you often come across the question of effectiveness and sustainability of your work. How could I combine my work as an rights media educational officer and help NAYO all at once? That’s when I decided that I wasn’t going to do that video: Instead, I would train several of Malawi Institute of journalism (MIJ) students in documentary filmmaking and have them, with my supervision, produce the documentary from the script development to the video editing.
Seven students signed up to join the project where their time and investment were offset by a transportation & lunch allowance given by NAYO. After a week of production I had to admit that I could have never done this project without them.
Never could have I spoke to a woman digging a canal to irrigate a community garden where maize, cabbage, egg plants & green pepper will be plant in order to sustain Nancholi if it wasn’t from my students. On the other hand, never could MIJ students film and produce their 1st video work if it wasn’t from me and never could NAYO have gotten this video for their potential donors if it wasn’t from us. Exchange. I like to think this is what development work is all about.
One thing I didn’t know then that I know now is that by agreeing to take in charge this project, I also paid myself a one week long VIP pass into what I know now to be the “real” Malawi.
Above the language barrier created by my practically non-existing knowledge of Chichewa, I also realized that despite the fact that I’ve been living in Blantyre for almost five months now; I am still a novice to Malawian culture and an outsider to the rural region where 80% of the population is located.
I remember many of my Malawian colleagues at MIJ telling me: “If you haven’t been into the villages, you haven’t seen Malawi.”
I now know they were right: You haven’t truly experienced Malawi until you’re in a village, dancing to the sound of the drums or sitting on the floor eating Nsima with your bare hands. This was last Monday. Like one of the student told me on that very same day: “Ndiwe, M’malawino.” I’m a “Malawian” now.
Skewered meat sizzles on kickstand grills along the main M1 highway, a whole pig is slaughtered in an open-air butcher’s market shack, a farmer herds wealth-representative cattle down a maize-sidled byway and a “road runner” free range chicken dodges potholes and traffic – in a culture where cows have long symbolized status, slaughtered to honour guests and in the north traded as a dowry to marry off daughters, making the conscious choice to live a vegetarian lifestyle in Malawi is about as rare as an order of steak tartare.
But a Development Aid from People to People in Malawi (DAPP in Malawi) program is working to change the mindset and the menu. In 2007, with support from the United States Department of Agriculture, the American Soya Bean Association and the World Initiative for Soy in Human Health, DAPP in Malawi began training Total Control of the Epidemic (TCE) field officers to promote soy in communities affected by HIV/AIDS. Today over 100 of their HIV/AIDS support groups have been trained to cultivate and cook with soy in the preparation of other local foods.
Recipes promoted through the DAPP – TCE soya program include banana and soy sausage, masamba a soya (soy vegetables), khofi wa soya (soy coffee), and mkaka wa soya (soy milk), and are made available on print paper with easy-to-follow directions; “Boil 3 cups water, wash (1 cup of) soya in cold water, don’t put the soya into the hot water all at once but little by little like you do with rice,” begins the soy milk instructions.
Based on the nutritional value of 1 cup of boiled soybeans, the DAPP – TCE soy milk recipe would provide about 300 calories, 28 grams of protein, 10 grams of fiber, and 20 grams of fat. The soy milk would also provide essential vitamins and minerals, with 1 cup of boiled soybeans providing 50 percent of the recommended daily intake of iron, 40 percent of the recommended daily intake of vitamin D-balancing phosphorus, and 4 percent of the recommended daily intake of vitamin C.
According to DAPP in Malawi Partnership Officer Nozipho Tembo, the nutritional benefits of soy foods could make a substantial difference in the fight against HIV/AIDS. The disease is known for causing micronutrient deficiencies – vitamin A, vitamin B12, vitamin C, vitamin D, carotenoids, selenium, and iron in the blood – which in turn speed the progress of the infection, and in 2006 a study conducted by Médecins sans Frontières in Malawi found that patients with mild malnutrition were twice as likely to die in the first three months of treatment, and patients with severe malnutrition were six times as likely to die as patients with a healthy body weight.
“Over the years we have learnt that soya is high in proteins which can be substituted for meat, cheese and fish, of which some people in rural areas can’t afford to have on their daily meal,” said Tembo, adding that 1 kg of soya costs MK200 (CAD0.80) compared to MK800 (CAD3.00) for 1 kg of meat. “The DAPP – TCE project teaches the communities to adhere to a well-balanced diet and this is one way for people in rural areas to get proteins in their meals.”
To support existing programming and expand into other areas of Malawi, Tembo said DAPP in Malawi and TCE will be engaging seed companies for seed donations.
“The demand is high… the people who are (HIV) positive are living a healthier life whenever they adhere to the information given to them about soya and how to prepare it,” she said. “Now the challenge will be to provide soya seed for the people to plant in their fields.”