Friday, May 14, 2010

Venturing into King'ori

We called into DME office a bit late to join them in morning prayers, but was not mandatory to do so anyway. In the General Secretary's office he told me again that we were 'DME employees and we should behave as such'. He also told us that DME were responsible for us even in the villages.
I guessed that this was in response to the difficulties they had with the fish farming vol but it was good that they felt responsible for us. I had an underlying feeling that we were required to act as part of the church society and so behave in a way that would not embarrass them. I thought that to be fair and reasonable.

Mch Majola [Mch is short for Mchungaji, which mean Pastor or shepherd/herdsman, therefore a perfect title) was to take us on a reconnaissance tour. Mch Majola lived at the end of our road close to the main road and he and his wife became a friends of ours and figured in our work from time to time.

We still had the wee Maruti, so Mch Majola hopped into the passenger seat so Mags & Loti sat on the uncomfortable seats in the back with crouched heads. We headed through Usa River towards Kilimanjaro airport.
The fish farmer vol had told me the area DME covered, and sorry, I did not listen too closely but I found it to be a very large area with a very large population.
We passed Maji ya Chai and Kikatiti and turned up the road where the sign said 'King'ori'. But it turns out this is not King'ori but Malula - King'ori is some considerable distance up the road. We stopped at the godown which is a large storage shed with the village office set in part of it. There we met the village chairman, Mtendaje and Pastor Nnko. Pastor Nnko wore a brown suit and that was always how I though of him 'Pastor Brownsuit'. After a cup of tea, we went to the church on the south side of the road. It was in the process of construction made from concrete blocks and Pastor Brownsuit hoped we could help plant trees to beautify the church grounds. It was a dry, rocky, hard planting site but there was water nearby in a huge pond caused by the extraction of fill to form the main road. This pond was utilized by the local people and I was to find water was a big issue in the area.
We were taken to a well just along from the godown. It didn't look much of a well to me; a hole in the ground about ten metres deep with bits of tree trunks used as protection to stop kids falling in! It was an important well because most ground water in the area is filled with poisonous salts and is not even fit for livestock. This well gave 2 buckets of water a day and I was asked if I could find money to clean it out - well I did and it increased its output to 20 buckets a day. It was valuable fresh water.

We left old Brownsuit and headed for Kolila the place where later the woman killed herself to spark off a hunger survey that I carried out [Blog: World Food Shortage? 6.6.08]. We visited the church called 'Krismas' to see the need for planting trees there and then we passed the Mikuuni Primary School beyond which was another church. The church grounds were extensive and there was a huge area that the Evangelist wanted us to provide trees for, as a cash crop. To the West are low hills and the village of Mareu - the General Secretary has some land there and had requested trees.


There is a church just before King'ori and we stopped at the Nkwakiringa Nursery School where the kids gave us a song and they too wanted a tree nursery to raise funds - the teacher was unpaid and there was a man who volunteered to oversee the nursery. Past the village of King'ori where the the road takes a turn and the town looks like something from the wild west.
We briefly called in at the Leguruke Vocational Training School - like a Polytech - and then on to Mbaaseni which is the home church of the Bishop and where his wife was a member of a women's group. They too would like a nursery to raise funds.

It was a long day and there was a lot to take in. The general Secretary's farm area did not look like a priority area to me nor did the Leguruke area. The Bishop had a small house down by Mulala and that area looked dry. Compared to the Hifadhi areas it seemed to me that the problems were not as severe. But I decided that there was value in enhancing what already existed because the environment is a fragile thing. There was value in teaching the population there that maintaining their environment was a worthwhile thing.

The fish farming vol was quite correct we had only skimmed the surface of the area we were to work and there was much to do.

Back at the nursery we built a potting shed, banda, and cleared an area for soil, marram and sawdust. We had a wheelbarrow and sieved soil collected at the farm and mixed it with sawdust from the sawmill boys and dry cow manure. Paulina's kids helped me gather it and there was a 'ritual'.
They would come running when they heard the car coming along the track and they would hop in - kelele - noise! They would assist me to scrape the dry, dusty manure and they spread it with their hands and bare feet in the back of the car. They were covered in dust! Then they would hop in the car and strictly, I told them to sit quietly with arms folded. Then as we drove away I would encourage them to sing some song or other. At the end of the track they would get out - kelele again, and I would call out kimbia! Run! And off they would go, scampering home. In five years they never tied of this routine - nor did I. Though Pascalina was terrified of the vehicle and would not come for some time, but eventually she came aboard.


The soil was mixed with water - to the correct consistency and the pots were filled. It was a good system.

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