Today is Hero’s Day in Zambia, recognizing all those who contributed to Zambian independence. Independence came gradually to Zambia with no revolutionary fight or colonial expulsion. After gaining access to open elections in 1962, the United National Independence Party (UNIP) gained control and voted to secede from the commonwealth and seek full autonomy. On October 24 of 1964 the process was complete and Zambia was born. Since then the country has seen single party rule, near dictatorship, and lately a multi-party system with presidential term limits.
Zambia is a country the size of Texas with 11 million people. The average age is only 17, primarily due to the AIDS epidemic. Life expectancy here is less than 40 years and the infant mortality rate is greater than 10%. After being here just a few days, and in the capital where a higher standard of living is possible, I see almost no one of my own age in the local populace. This is an excellent location for WBR to start it’s ministry.
Part of the program here is not only providing bicycles, but also to create an economy around the conveyance that is self-sustaining. Previously, the bicycles on the market were poorly designed and maintenance capability has been limited. Available spare parts are as structurally deficient as the original bicycles. All of this gives great credence to Easterly’s opinion that the poor have no voice in the products that are available to them. WBR has been training field mechanics to ensure bicycles recipients have access to quality parts and service. Otherwise, the bikes will degrade over time using only those spares that were formerly available.
Not far from Lusaka is a village called Chongwe. Today we are paying a visit to one of the WBR trained field mechanics. As we pull up outside the village, the World Bicycle Relief banner is quickly recognized and I am beset by elders eager to know when the local school will be receiving their allotment of bikes. This is an unexpected reception as the bikes for students program is barely two weeks old. I am disappointed that one of my first acts in Africa is to marginalize the hopes of the village, telling them that it will be longer than expected for their children to receive the aid we have promised. Next I’m struck by the stark utilitarian nature of the people. Someone has tapped into the power line next to the highway (there are only three main arteries in the national system) and strung live wires along the ground to create an arc welding station. I pray it doesn’t rain.
I did take some photos of this trip, unfortunately they were done with 20th century technology and will require ScanCafe support before getting added to the blog. I think I should get some advertising credit here.
Inside the village mall we find the man we are looking for: Albert. Albert was a promising high school graduate who had no opportunity for work (unemployment in Zambia is 50%, yes 50!) Africare identified Albert as a promising young man and trained him to be a bicycle mechanic. A few years later, WBR also selected Albert for additional training and inclusion in the RAPIDS program. Today we are here to see how Albert is doing. To be blunt, he is an inspiration to all of us. With the extra income he is receiving as a WBR mechanic, Albert is putting all of his nieces and nephews into private school, his wife is in school, he has purchased some land and is erecting a building for seven apartments, one of which is dedicated to young orphan girls who are attending the same school as his orphaned nieces (Albert’s sister was a victim of AIDS). Albert’s ability to monetize his skills and create opportunity for so many around him is amazing, it is also an example of the weight so many entrepreneurs in this country must bear. As they become more successful, more and distant family members come to partake in their success. This creates an atmosphere of poverty that is nearly impossible to escape.
One of the drivers, Mr. Ngoma, takes me on a walk around the village to see the shops and meet the people. Most of the shop owners are selling dried fish. Fish is a strong term, most of the tables are loaded with minnows, less than an inch long and stacked in piles. This food represents the last ditch effort at sustenance. When heads of households can no longer provide meat or vegetables to their families, these fish are the last resort. They resemble a strip of scotch tape with blue eyes. Mr. Ngoma tells me that most families in this area have at least one meal a day composed of the dried minnows. While the fish and other clothing items are sold outside (along with a shirt bearing Obama’s likeness – “Change we can Belive In”), inside the warehouse structure are more affluent purveyors who are selling fresh vegetables: mostly tomatoes, cabbage and onions.
Next we take a tour of Albert’s new structure, which is a strong term. He assures me there is rebar in the footings, but the rest of the building is simple brick and mortar, no wood, insulation or windows. Only a few missing bricks to provide for air flow. The floors are either dirt or concrete and each room is roughly 7 ft square – just enough room to sleep and take refuge from rain or cold. Nearby, about 20 yards off is a borehole, or well. It is 2.5 ft across and the water table is close, less than 20ft below the surface. Albert assures me this water is only for washing/cleaning; drinking water comes from a similar hole, but much farther from the village. Without checking, I hope the hole for drinking water is much deeper. As we walk we are followed by shoeless children, many of the young girls have infants tied to their backs. The girls are too young to be parents, but they carry the burden so naturally, they must start caring for these siblings very early on. The kids are delighted to see their faces in Leah’s viewfinder (She has a digital camera). We also see ample evidence of WBR’s efforts. The bikes are everywhere and represent all aspects of the project: school bikes, health care workers and those purchased through miro-loans.
On the way back to Lusaka we pass another group of workers. They are literally making little rocks out of big ones! Leah informs me that it’s a positive sign that children are no longer swinging the hammers. A hundred piles of gravel surround the few men and women who sit on piles of boulders and spend their day making ingredients for concrete or bricks. Nearby, bricks are made by pouring the mixture into molds cut into the dirt. One machine could replace all of this labor and do a better, quicker and more complete job. Then again unemployment is 50%. I really am at a loss for words to describe this scene.
A few hours later we are in a very nice Italian restaurant. It would be nice in Napa, and an unexpected opulence in any urban area with the Romanesque lay out of open verandas and gardens, charcoal briers flaming every few yards. The food is very good and the wine is excellent. It’s a great dinner (courtesy of F.K.) but I keep thinking some rider spent half a day getting the coal for the fire to Lusaka, and all that work is just burning to ash in an open courtyard.
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