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.

Making a Start

Even though we were in the Makumira house, there was still residual work left over from Hifadhi and finalizing other projects from various donated funds. Good old Joshia helped when he could, but sometimes I carried on on my own.

DME had given me two weeks to settle into the house, but we didn't need that long and I wanted to get going on the project.

I called at the office of the General Secretary but I could tell by his body language that he was not concentrating on what I had to say - it seemed he wanted to get the interview over as soon as possible! Mheshimwa Baba Askofu - the Bishop had knocked a guy off his bicycle on the way back from Dodoma and it was the General Secretary's job to sort out what had to be done.
I offered to wait and when he was able to relax, I had some answers.
Loti it seemed was out of favor with DME and while he was still on the payroll, he had no official job.
That raises another thing that will keep cropping up - DME was very short of cash. While Loti was on the payroll, he was not actually paid - the Makumira farm had to make money first, for that is where his wages were to be paid from. Mbise was paid irregularly - 6 months apart of even a year!
The General Secretary told me that the fish farming vol and his co-worker did not consult DME on what they were doing nor the location and the request was made that we keep DME informed. On the other had, we could proceed by making our own way and the Bishop was happy that we work with the total population in the DME are no matter their religious belief. So I took it that we would make our own way but keep up a dialogue.
The fish farming vol had demanded holiday time be taken into account when he resigned. The gist of which eludes me to this day, but according to the General Secretary, he expected leave to be taken at the completion of each year. Somehow it affected the relationship with the Agency.
We enjoyed a much more open and friendly arrangement. My attitude was to work hard to complete projects. I worked more than eight hours each day and more than five days per week. So if I needed to go anywhere or do anything, by swings and roundabout, DME had the best deal - and appropriately so!
I was again told about 'upsetting the ballance' by paying people too much. Obviously DME was cash-strapped and had to meet the wage demands of all their workers.
The General Secretary expressed the wish that any nursery we establish, should be on church land.

We went up to Loti's home place at Ngongongari where he had a large farm by his village's standards. To reach it we had to pass through the Seventh Day Adventist Seminary and I got to know the guard on the gate who's job it was to record people entering and leaving the compound - gradually he allowed me to pass without signing in.
There was a government tree nursery (State Forest Department) and we paid a visit there, meeting the manager who showed us Grevillea robusta, Cupressus lusitanica, Pinus patula and Eucalyptus maidenii seedlings. The guy was motivated and interested in the wider environment and supportive about our proposed activities. He even suggested we co-operate and use some of the nursery area for our nursery. Remembering the General Secretary's wish, we politely refused his offer and in the did not have very much to do with him - no fault, we just became busy doing what we do.

I will mention here and no doubt again: Loti proved to be an excellent co-worker. He would wait to see what my attitude was (over all sorts of things) and allow me to have my say or indicate what direction we would move in. He would interpret my Kiswahili so what I said was understood and he had great patience with me for at times he had not a clue what I was going to do or say next!

Mama Kuku is a well-known individual around Arusha and among other things is involved with Rotary in Arusha. Mama Kuku has done a great deal of work to provide assistance in various ways to the local population and her achievements cannot be overstated. Poor woman was recently beaten up and robbed, which is scant thanks for what she has done! She is regarded highly by the local population and the robbers are no more than opportunist thugs who deserve whatever fate might hand out. It will not be good in the end!
I met her (& her husband) from time to time and twice visited her at her home on the crater rim above Lake Diluti. The ritual of taking tea was like going back to colonial times.
Mama Kuku saw the opportunity to 'do something for the environment' and back-load nursery grown trees on her truck that transported day old chicks to Arusha. We had scored some of these trees through Hifadhi, and a large number arrived at the DME office.
The fish farming vol had arranged for the trees - 30 000 of them! And he was supposed to pay for the freight, but I did not know about this until later - when I had to cough up for them!
To be truthful, I did not want to deal with the trees because I would have to transport them and I knew from experience that if you just deliver trees without preparing to people and the planting hole, the success would be severely limited. The other thing was that there was an inadequate supply of water to maintain the trees at DME HQ!
At that time, there were few vehicles at DME - even the Pastors either walked, took Daladalas or Landrovers that acted as buses in the more remote areas.
In the end the trees were given to anyone who would take them away, and I transported them in bulk lots to some village offices within the DME area.

Loti and met at our home to work out how we were going to carry out the project and talk about the need to employ some people to help in the tree nursery.
Of course there was some interest in the work available because the local people thought that we would pay well and regularly. As well there was not much work around.
Mbise was our mlinzi, night guard but he wanted to work in the nursery as well. That was understandable as he did not receive regular pay to look after us - it was not our responsibility to pay for mlinzi work. You might wonder who he could stay awake carrying out two jobs. Well, we just trusted the guy.
Amani was a youg local woman who lived with her parents across the river - she was to work with us for a long time.
Veronica was a vibrant young woman of the Chugga tribe but carried with her a few problems caused by her husband.
Upendo, and while there are many Upendo's, this one was a school leaver who came to us first to sell eggs and wanted to be called 'Helen'. She came from a good family and uncounted problems in her life that may arise later.


We planned to carry out environmental seminars at schools, churches and anywhere else we thought might be appropriate. I had in my mind the content of seminars and we decided that I would make up flip chart for Loti to work from.
It would take some time to make up the chart so meantime I would teach the nursery workers what was required of them and Loti and I would make contact with the target audience.

I was pleased that I could at last concentrate on this assignment.

Setting up at Makumira

I had to decide where I was going to set up the tree nursery, and I had two choices: at our house or down at the farm by the milking sheds.

The General Secretary was happy to leave the choice up to me but I was not all that well informed, so made the decision to have it at our house.

The advantage of having the nursery at our house was that it was so handy and like Sanawari, I could pop out to do some work at any time [watering especially in the evening]. I realised and understood that having the nursery within our compound meant that people would visit us, but that did not matter. I did not realise that there would be a water problem and that I would have to fix it myself. There was a fence around the compound and that meant straying animals would not be a problem.

The milking sheds were perhaps fifteen minutes walk from the house and the proposed site was shaded by some very large Albizia trees. There was a water race nearby. This water race flowed all the way down to Valeska, one of the villages we would work with and there was violence caused when an Australian fellow, (who was advised by his Kikuyu wife) took all the water for his own purposes - entirely another story. But once we ran out of water at our house, and I transported water from this mferegi (race). Mbise and I filled mapipa (drums) by bucket so I could water the nursery. I think that is where I received my amoeba that latched on to my liver and nearly did me in! You see the school kids bathe in the river where the mfereji comes from, they clean their teeth in it and wash their clothes in it. Not only the school kids, some of the village population. Sadly this water comes from a spring just below the house and it is polluted at the very source.

There was a farm cottage (two attached rooms) in one Paulina lived with her husband Sylvester and their tribe of wild but likeable kids. In the other lived Lucy, it was she who Neema (from a previous blog - and tragic tale) lived. This was basic farm accommodation.
There was no security as such as the cows could wander around and tramp on the plants - a fence could fix that.
The other milker was old Samweli who I would trust under any circumstances (I didn't know that then). He lived way up the hill at Mulala (same village as Mbise) and he made the journey, by foot, early for morning milking and home late after cleaning up after milking.- he spent the day on the farm. Sylvester was supposed to help him with the milking but he was more often than not away with the fairies on piwa.
But this was where the cows spent the night, therefore there was the resource of fertilizer for the nursery.

It wasn't a contest really, I opted to set up the nursery beside the house and once Mags had the house in order, she set about cleaning up the garden. I cleared the area that was to be the nursery. The fish farmer vol had grown maize there, but it was hugely overgrown. It took all day to reduce the area to bare earth and I was astounded when I went outside to see the whole area teaming with siafu! Safari ants!

I will do a whole post on these incredible insects but here they covered the whole area that I had cleared and they were about 10cm deep. Now I must have disturbed them for when siafu travel, they go in file, singly or ten/twelve abreast. The column of ants can keep going all day and night and seemingly not end.
I admit to being a little alarmed because if a person fell among them, they would eat him/her! The image of that was a bit much for me.
I had 'used' them at Sanawari: I would kill slugs, cut them in half and place them beside a column
of siafu - they would cut them to pieces and take them away!
I did tests at Makumira to find what food they liked - meat/insects and fats (the cream on our milk and even avocado). They were not interested in sugar or bread.

The next day they were gone and as the nursery area was sloped, I set about digging terraces to sit the pots on. I planted some Sesbania trees to supply some shade as this part of the compound was exposed to the sun for most of the day. At the top there was shade from a huge Albizia tree but the tree did not grown within the compound. There was a huge Newtonia tree in our compound with a crown of 40 metres in diameter! Branches had reached over the house and for our safety, DME had removed those branches. A guy climbed up there and cut the branches (more than 40 cm through) with a panga - bush knife/machete! Again using basic tools, Tanzanians can achieve amazing outcomes.
The Blue Monkeys and wind caused dead branches to fall, creating a constant supply of firewood and I will add these to future posts as well.

Water came from a large tank/reservoir just up the hill and this was served by a project from high up the mountain - it was not long before this failed but that will have to wait as well. At the stream below the house was a pump house with an electric motor that could also feed the tank/reservoir. This contraption was not used much because of the expense of the electricity. Well that did not exactly stack up as Tanesco did not send out any bills! Well not exactly either! The farm had not paid for the post office box, so they could not empty it! All the time the fish farmer vols had been there, the electricity had not been paid. That was all fixed later.
But I had run pumps at the nursery in NZ and had a fair idea of how they work. The fish farmer had told me the motor could run all night and still there was not much water in the tank/reservoir! Well there were leaks and taps that could not be turned off down at the school, but I had no doubt that the actual pump unit was faulty. Everyone had tried tinkering with the motor to give it more power - it didn't need it, it needed a new pump unit. I looked at it and knew parts would be a mission to find, but later the wires were stolen, so I abandoned the idea of resurrecting the pump.
I quickly found one thing that I kept secret. I presumed the tank/reservoir was set up by the German farm manager and he cunningly had the line we were on coming from the botton of the tank, and the other outlet - to the secondary school, primary school about 30cm above it the tank was 4 metres in diameter, therefore after everyone else ran out of water, we still had some 3768 litres left for the house. Our tank held 600 litres, was made of galvanized iron and leaked slightly.
We could afford to share the water, but carefully as if everyone collected water there, we would soon run out too. In the end the only regular was Mama Upendo's family and others depending on their particular case at the time. This was because as things settled down, we only had water coming into the tank for 30 minutes per day - precisely at 7:00 am. I will reveal the reason at another time.

I haven't yet mentioned the mango trees, two of them, just inside our compound. Very large, old trees and they bore abundant fruit that attracted the monkeys, who would waste many by taking a single bite and dropping them (not sweet enough) and primary school kids throwing stones to knock fruit down. This peppered the nursery with stones and caused injuries to the kids when rocks hit them square on the head! I learned to have a roll of toilet paper handy because of the old HIV thing, I could make a wad of paper for the kid to hold on the cut and hurry home for treatment.
From our side of the trees I harvested fruit with a hook on a long pole and tossed them over to the fence to the eager (and grateful) kids.
At odd times kids would climb the tree, but I would call them down because should they fall and injure themselves, then perhaps I would be called to account - I just did not want the hassle.

So I became set up for action.

Moving in

We moved into the Makumira house 23 May 1997.
It was a busy time and there was a deal of emotion leaving our friends at Sanawari - in particular Mama Baraka, Nai and Olotu.

There was still a carry over of Hifadhi projects, especially the water project at Engorora with Francis. There was also the Muriet kindergarten and some tree deliveries to various villages.

While Paulina did a good job of cleaning the house, there was a lot to do to get rid of vermin (and a great big termite nest), air out cupboards (we had no cupboards at Sanawari), repair mosquito netting, set up nets over beds, wire up the oven and fridge. A bit tricky because were were there for a couple of weeks before I managed to get Tanesco to do their magic and make the electricity flow. Actually it was not quite right - Mama John kept getting 'tingles' from the range whenever she used it without her sandals on (Swahili they are malapa, New Zealand, Jandals) it was because the earth wire was not a good connection as the big Newtonia tree sucked all the soil moisture.
We were used to no electricity, so it did not bother us - we had a gas cooker, water filter and a pressure lamp. When the electricity returned, it was not always reliable and the pressure lamp had to be allowed to cool before relighting. Sometimes I would just get it going and the electricity would return, them moments later cut out again - 5-6 times per night or more. So generally we resorted to the old storm lantern ( kerosene but not under pressure) and candles.

I was nurturing Joshia as well, setting him up to run his NGO. He was busy too with various person projects that he was wanting to complete.

Missy arrived nine days after we moved in. Missy is a delight and we were pleased to see her return and to have her stay with us. She was doing her masters thesis on the effect our projects had on the rural women in the communities we had worked. This was special because we had arranged Joshia to be her translator and because they had no transport, I helped and went back to those projects.

There was trouble with Mama Mwuguzi (I have drafted what happened - not posted yet...), she and her husband faced some difficulty and I tried to help them through it. I don't think they really understood their briefing and were only ten minutes walk from the main road - yet they felt remote.
The fish farming vols were in the house next door but soon resigned and moved out. Then a family moved in - ah I was running the shop for the Agency Field Reps, Mo & Jo when the family, Watunzi Watoto, arrived back from Morogoro where they attended an English course. Well their house in the outskirts of Arusha was broken into and some things were stolen. So I had to do the police thing 'for insurance purposes' and the driving around of them. Then they wanted to move into the vacant house that the fish farming vols had left. This family cause different trouble but stuff that I needed to sort. Mostly smoothing ruffled feathers here and there. Oh well - the house belonged to DME so they made demands on them!

Because we had extended our contract, we were entitled to another forty hours Kiswahili tuition - ah no, not to Morogoro, or to the Danish (where the food makes any vol salivate) but using a room in the CEDAH complex being tutored by Mr. Kimaro. My Kiswahili was coming along well and these lessons were of value.
Something strange happened though: one day he carried the strong smell of alcohol around him, and maybe he even partook that morning - but he was upset about a family problem and was crying. He asked me to take him home, but as we passed AICC he asked to be dropped off. He left me still crying.
Mr. Kimaro's struggle to form Rafiki Trust and start a primary school came to fruition and I went there to share my knowledge and donated some trees to plant around the school. I looked at the website recently and it seems, sadly, he is the late Mr. Kimaro - but his legacy lives on.

Marie came to stay too - she was a vol in Zimbabwe and she stayed for a number of days, wanting to see the sights of the Arusha environs. We were able to her and Missy to Lushoto and Tarangire National Park. Ha! I stopped on the rise of a hill and there was a large bull elephant there and Marie wanted to take a picture - well the vehicle spooked the elephant and he charged us! There was a measure of panic in the vehicle and I must say that I did not waste time changing gear, I planted my foot to the floor. Elephants only bluff though - usually.

To top all this off, we had a family bereavement and it so happened that the telephones at the Agency office were again not working. The post office ones were going so we went in there to make a the call home. At the counter, you fill in a form with the requested phone number. You pay for the amount of time and sit in the waiting area. There was a row of cubicles with a number each and when the connection is made, in you go. The cubicles are basic made from varnished plywood. You get your time, but sometimes the phone link is broken and it has to be reestablished. Of course when the time is up, there is no warning - you are cut off.

It was a busy time and we had visitors. Locals came looking for work or assistance of some kind. Others just wanted to welcome us into the area. Of course, now we had a large house, there was room for the out-of-town vols to stay. They were welcome.

The Meru Crisis

Makumira is an area of the traditional lands of the Meru tribe, and while there are other tribes living in the area, the Meru language is most often used. This is a good thing because this makes Kimeru a living language and nurtures it.
This can cause problems because when people speak 'the language of their house', outsiders often feel excluded. Most understand this and use Kiswahili as a matter of manners but I know I felt out of it at times. I became used to it and it was curiously used as respect for me because when we were visiting somewhere and there was a Meru engagement between Loti and them, very often it was about what I preferred to eat or drink - better than whispering I guess!

Within the Meru area there was this crisis.
I'm not really qualified to to write about this but there is scant written history about it and that needs to be addressed. What I have found is quite different to what I have been told - and I was told by folk who were amongst it.
The crisis was a in fact a war and while we were there, below the surface there still simmered some feeling at some times.

I hope I write this with some sensitivity and hope I am accurate, but I remain open for input and opinion. I will leave out names.
Let's start with what I have read:
The crisis occurred between 1990 and 1993 and the Tanzania army was called in to quell the situation.

The background is that in 1972 there was a rationalization which formed a smaller Northern Diocese and the Arusha and Pare Dioceses. The Meru people chose to remain with the new, smaller Norther Diocese and it was recorded that some 20% of the 360 000 members were the Meru or Rwa tribe. The remainder of the Northern Diocese, except for Karatu, were of the Chugga tribe.
The Meru people claimed that the Chugga tribe controlled the Northern Diocese with 25% of each church's funds profited the Chugga. The accused the Chugga leaders of nepotism and a failure to support schools/education in all areas. But back further, the Germans used Chugga soldiers to punish the Meru for the slaughter of missionaries. The Meru tribe was decimated, reduced to a mere 5000.

The catalyst was the issue of forbidding alcoholic beverages at social functions which went against Meru social practice. Pastors were accused of blessing beer and whiskey at Chugga functions but refusing to do so at Meru functions.

One charismatic Meru man was punished by the stripping of his church rank because he served beer at his son's wedding. The punishment incensed the individual along with many Meru people.
He was the chairman of the Meru Social Development Trust and used its resources to form a new diocese in September 1990. His committee declared its formation in October, registration processed December and was inaugurated 1 January 1991. The official new Diocese was created with the approval of the Northern Diocese Bishop on 11 March 1992. [making two of them]
There were deep divisions and crops were burnt, livestock killed, some people killed and many injured, and some Tsh 70million worth of Diocese property was destroyed.
There were many arrests after the army was brought in to make peace.

What I was told:
Firstly, it was never mentioned that there was a row over alcohol. Sure mbege was brewed and that is a low alcohol traditional brew. Also piwa which is also a traditional brew but it is powerful, unsafe and will straighten any curly hair!
I attended many, many DME functions and never at any time saw even a hint of alcohol and I respected the fact that they did not take it and followed their example. So if alcohol was indeed an issue, it must be by the people who went on to form the AMEC church.

It was confirmed about the ugomvi between the Meru and Chugga tribes and after that charismatic fellow and his team [they had definite power as leaders of various fields, including politics] decided to break away from the Northern Diocese so they took over some of the church assets.
In response to the chaos that followed - loyal Lutherans wanting to take the property back - the Bishop agreed that a new diocese could be formed for/by the Meru people.
The fighting, I was told, became over the very name of the new diocese; the loyalists wanting Meru Diocese and the 'rebels' preferring Mount Meru Diocese.
There was serious fighting, ambushes and vigils that I was told about, and loyal people put their lives on the line.

The outcome was the 'rebels' forming the AMEC church (splitting from ELCT) and the loyalists forming the Meru Diocese (remaining with ELCT).
For us arriving there in May 1997 there was no danger at all that we noticed. The main effect was that DME were still reeling from the financial losses of the crisis. Even note paper was in short supply. This made our contribution even more important to them.
Later we were to notice some of the divisions between AMEC and DME but personally and professionally we were unaffected.

Makumira

We had stayed at the Makumira house when the fish farming vols were living there. Their tenure was less than auspicious and they did not get on with the locals so well. I think I will write about them, because some of the story is funny, but I temper that because they complained so loudly to DME about the noise from the nearby secondary school, that the Headmaster has to be replaced! That is not what we are about!

The house is a grand old double story built from stone - thick stone and in it's day very well made. When we visited the fish farming vols had tried to sound-proof the building and slept downstairs. They complained about the school bell ringing at 7:00am to wake the boarders even on the weekends. I didn't think it was out of the ordinary.
The school had serious problems with water and so the students (boys & actually young men) would pass by the boundary fence to go down to the nearby creek to bathe (and wash clothes). The fish farmer vol thought the boys were smoking cannabis and would report them to the Headmaster, who would line them us so the fish farmer vol could identify them - he did this by recognizing their clothes. Well they responded by going down to the river nude! This really upset out fish farming friend!
Once as I sat with him on the veranda, smaller kids passed, looking in to greet us. The fish farmer vol thought they were invading his privacy and even suggested to me that he would throw a stone at them. Tanzanian kids are just friendly - and inquisitive. I regard those traits as being a blessing. Mostly they would look, waiting for a wave, they would respond (later invariable calling out, 'Shikamoo!'), which is nothing but a respectful greeting, and then they would carry on their way.

One weekend we were all invited to the house by the fish farmer vols and on the Saturday morning after the school bell had raised his ire, some fundis (craftsmen/welders - you don't add a 's' for plural in Kiswahili but we did for our own use) arrived to steel doors to the garage.
Now fundis know their stuff, and make the best use of what they have - a westerner may even laugh at them, for example using a stone instead of a hammer - sometimes standards are not high and safety was not so high on the agenda; but I have admiration for them.
Anyway, this welder they had did not have a plug, so they wired directly into the socket. Well there was a 'boom' and not only was a fuse blown in the house, but also on the pole down the road! So there was no electricity.
This set our friend the fish farmer off! He had needed electricity to be a good host to us all. But mostly he blamed the fundis for shoddy work!
He took off to Usa River and made contact with Tanesco, the power authority and they promised to come later.
The fundis did not want to go away, preferring to wait for the electricity to return - the fish farmer made them wait outside the gate! Then it rained so I suggested the guys be allowed to wait in the garage. The idea was vetoed!
However by this time my language was better and I went to them and gave them money for a soda each at the school canteen (where there was shelter).
Power was restored and the doors were fitted and the weekend ended happily.

There was a 2 metre high post and netting fence to mark the compound; built for the fish farmer vol. But by the time we moved in termites had eaten the posts and the fence was less than secure. The fish farmer vol had planted calla lilies to block out the view of passers by, but now these held up the fence. The gates were good but we usually only locked them during the night - I always wondered if we were locking people out, or ourselves in.

By the time we were to move in, the fish farming vols had moved to one of the houses across the main road - there were other adventures but enough said. He did give me some advice though.
He did not trust 'Kojak' the name he gave to the General Secretary, nor did he trust the ex farm manage, Loti.
Well I took on Loti as my co-worker - one of the best choices I have ever made! And I rank the General Secretary (retired) as one of my best friends for whom I have great respect. (I did not like writing that word beginning with 'K').

We never realised at the time just how much this move would impact on our lives, but we were to find that working with DME was to be very different to Hifadhi.

DME is a Lutheran Diocese covering a very large area, principally ministering to the Meru tribe but not excluding the other tribes.
DME suffered from a lack of financial resources caused mainly by 'The Meru Crisis'; but not withstanding that, there was a huge organization and the door was opened to us to work in villages, schools and churches. The Bishop - he must be honored - The Hon Bishop allowed us to work in any area, with any religious group, say that we were there to help the people of Tanzania.

Taratibu means 'formalities' and i like using the word. DME had those.
It was policy to have a night guard - actually a guard all day long, but that was unaffordable. The fish farming vols had Mbise, but he had returned to become a farm worker.
Oh another explanation: The house was the 'farm manager's house' but was renovated for the fish farmers. The farm still operated and they milked some cows, grew some coffee, grew some maize and leased plots for growing maize and rice. In it's heyday, the farm produced Papaya milk - sap/resin from the Pawpaw not tree. The plant is classified as a herb rather than a tree but looks like a tree sure enough. The house was build by the German farm manager - just by the way: his wife is buried in the compound. Grave robbers apparently looked for the gold cross that 'she was sure to buried with' but I have no idea if there was a cross or not. Then there came to visit us a very old German woman who was the farm manager's second wife. He had proposed to her in the small bedroom of 'our' house - she sat on the bed as she told us. Unable to speak English, we conversed satisfactorily in Kiswahili - old as she was, she had not forgotten the language.
Mbise did not really want to become a night guard again, but the pressure was put on him (I guess by Loti) and he acquiesced. Mbise figured largely in our life. But on his first night on duty he managed to acquire my Red Band gumboots and my only torch!

Then it occurred that we employed a house girl. For those unfamiliar with the term it is simply a maid. or perhaps a servant. We didn't require the services of anyone to help us in the house and while many of the vols employed house girls, we never really thought about it.
Well Mama John was the house girl of the fish farming vols. When they left, they were replaced by the nurse and her husband, but they only wanted Mama John for one day per week. We happened to be there and conveyed the news to her because of her lack of English. Well she was downcast and sad about losing her livelihood. So we took her on for 3 days per week. That extended to four as the nurse lasted just a few months and wanted to be repatriated. Mama John did our washing, but mainly cooked morning smoko (NZ term for tea break) and lunch for our nursery workers.
Something else - you don't get your house girl to wash your 'smalls' - underpants/nickers. They are private and are not hung out on the line for all and sundry to look at - just a little local culture.

Remember Paulina (and her wild but delightful kids)? She was a farm employee (as was her husband, Sylvester, who milked the cows - even when he was drunk; again though he was known to fall from his stool) and it was she who cleaned our house before we moved in. The fish farming vols had been out of it for some time and there bats (and their droppings) to get rid of and the dust. Paulina did a good job with just a bucket and a cloth - no soap.

The General Secretary told me that the fish farming vol had caused another problem: he had overpaid all the people he had employed including his co-worker Enoch. In fact Enoch was paid more than the Secretary General himself! I was instructed to be very careful how much I paid people.
Just by the way: I had applied for funding to NZHC and it was granted. The amount was appropriate but we were in a good comfort zone. The money was put into a joint bank account - me and the DME treasurer on a monthly basis by Mo & Jo.
As he drove us through the old main road through (busy) Usa River, the General Secretary gave me another piece of advice: The people [on foot] will never move out of the way if you drive slowly, go fast and they will clear the way! He demonstrated, but I didn't take that piece of advice.

Where does it end?

You really have to get your head around the difficulties people face in rural Tanzania. Look at previous blogs about Neema or Lily, Paulina and food aid.

We lived and worked among the subsistence farmers and the rural poor, helping out where we could and in the most appropriate way we were able. Of course one thing leads to another and as we progressed at Makumira for DME we became more involved and we experienced every conceivable emotion.

Sure we were taken for a ride: like the woman who had a child suffering from, I think, spina bifida. She brought the child one and a chit from the doctor saying what drugs the child needed. We would give her money, but she would buy booze and share it with her boyfriend. However were were not hard enough to actually refuse her - just didn't give as much.
However by far the majority were genuine and appreciated the help given. Paulina would send one of her girls with a note that they had no food (remember them from earlier?) Sometimes I would give some money, or just a loaf of bread - any food I had in the house. It worried me that old Sylvester would take money for booze.

The rains are always a blessing in the Meru area - rain means food. The rains can also bring problems. Heavy rains cause damage.
I have received two texts: One from Lily saying that her mother's house had collapsed in the rain. Lily is now in her last year at university and the only way she could help her mother was to use her meal allowance to make makeshift repairs. Lily is able to eat two times per day. She has requested money to tide her over.
The other text was from Upendo - she hasn't figured in any blogs yet, but she will. Her friend's mother, Mama Joyce, had the same misfortune - her house fell down in the rain! Somewhere back in the blogs is a little about Joyce's child, Neema suffering from Herpes.
I have great regard for Mama Joyce and she has asked for a bag of cement to help restore her house. There is some detail here that I don't know and I need to find out if Joyce and Jerome are contributing to help their mother. Sadly Baba Joyce died two years ago.

I will send money; not as much as Lily requested, but a contribution and for Mama Joyce, I will send more than a bag of cement, but again not as much as she hopes for.
I suppose there remains some of Tanzania in my blood.