Malawi Mai Quiz: answers to episode 1

First of all I would like to apologise for making this quiz so difficult. I have only received 1 answer so far and therefore cannot but conclude that the rest of you must still be pondering the question. But do not worry: I have decided to relieve you from your brain-crunching and give you the answer! Here goes:

Q

Where does a Malawi Mai keep her mobile phone?

A: her handbag or purse?

B: her hair?

C: the same place she keeps her money?

D: her bra?

E: Don’t be such an arse Caroline; this is obviously a trick question because Malawian women are too poor to even have a mobile phone!

A

More and more women are now carrying mobile phones, although the majority is still far too poor in monetary terms to buy one. The cheapest ones go for just under 4000 Kwadchas, approximately 20 Euros including SIM card. The two mobile phone providers are pushing hard to sell these cheap mobile phones so people will then buy the ‘air time’ to use them. Airtime cards can be bought for as little as 50 Kwadchas. This will give you just under 2 minutes of airtime. Or you can send 5 text messages. Rich women, and this includes working women, keep their mobile phones mostly in their handbag. However, in Malawi bras are used for more things than just holding breasts. Money, mobile phones and sometimes even beer bottles are stored there! I have yet to come across a mobile phone in someone’s hair…

And the winner is… Piet Bakker! Looking forward to hearing you knock on my gate to collect your prize!

Lots of pictures

After many requests I have finally managed to sort out my picture situation. So it was time to take my camera for a little walk to show you some of the sights and people I meet on my way to work every day.

First we have to go back in history a little bit. Normally I used to wake up at 5.45 to greet my night guard, Mayeso, enquire about the night’s events (weather conditions, amount of burglars, etc) and send him on his way. One day last week however, at half past midnight, I caught him like this: blissfully asleep in the middle of my shed.

For 30 seconds after I woke him up he actually tried to convince me that he had been fully alert and carefully guarding my life, my stuff and – as you may remember – my purple furniture, all the while cleverly disguising this dutiful activity as ‘sleeping’. But when I showed him this picture, he glumly said: “How long have you been standing there…?” Quite. He was so fast asleep that I – or any robber thus inclined – could easily have murdered him – and me! - in his sleep. It took an empty aluminium watering can thrown crashing on the concrete floor beside him to wake him up. And what a rude awakening it was. This wasn’t the first time, so I send him on his way with a month severance pay, my best wishes for the future and my instructions never to come back.

In the background of this picture you can see the bicycle that VSO has given me during my stay here. Currently I cycle to work 3 times a week. I am afraid my little legs aren’t quite strong enough yet to manage the 45 minute up-hill-down-hill cycle twice every day of the week. On the days that my legs are resting I ride a mini-bus. Interestingly enough this also takes 45 minutes, but costs much more.

So nowadays: 6.00 am and I open my front door to see if all is well. That is my front door, right there:

To those of you who entertained romantic notions of me living in some pimped up mud hut in the middle of nowhere somewhere – I apologise. I live in a 3 bed roomed house in quite an affluent neighbourhood of Lilongwe. Many of my neighbours are civil servants and such, have satellite t.v. and big cars. What is more, in the back of my garden is a separate building with 2 rooms, a toilet and a shower: the servants quarters.

o:p>

They are empty right now, but may be occupied in a few weeks time by a friend in need of 2 months accommodation. Housing is so scarce in Lilongwe that I regularly have people knocking on my door asking if they can rent my ‘boys quarters’ as they are also known, as many people have ‘house boys’ as servants to look after their houses and themselves.

The garden looks pretty awful in this picture, but is actually looking much better now with some grass, flowers and behind the house a vegetable garden with both local and familiar vegetables. All of this fertilized as you will remember with soil from my lovely pile:

Then at 7 a.m. on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays Mrs Jere arrives. Mrs Jere is my cleaning and washing lady. She is a widow with 3 young children, and she lives only a few houses away from me. Her husband was a bank manager and when he died a few years ago the bank only provided for a little pension for the children, so the extra cash from working for me is very welcome. Mrs Jere’s first name is Ruth, but since she refuses to call me by my first name (“Noh!! I cannot do! You are my boss!!) and calls me Madam instead, I decided call her Mrs Jere. It seemed more polite that way. As a term of endearment she has now started to call me ‘Mammy’ which I find even more embarrassing than Madam! Thank God I have managed to stop her curtseying all the time! I did this by curtseying back at her every time she did this, so she was in stitches half the time. The best thing about Mrs Jere is that she is lovely. This is the picture she wanted me to show you:

5

But in actual fact she looks like this 95 percent of the time:

6

She just smiles and laughs all the time. When she comes in at 7 in the morning looking like this and laughing out loud I ask: “What is going on with you? Why are you laughing so much? Are you in love?” Big laugh, giggle:” No Mammy!”. “Are you on drugs or something?” Even bigger laugh, giggle:”Noooo, I am just happy Mammy!” Then we discuss the things I would like her to do that day – it is almost always the same: washing up, sweeping, mopping, washing clothes, ironing. She works so quickly – and thoroughly! - that all this is done by 8.30! Then obviously once a week she cleans toilet and shower etc. Often I come home and she has changed the furniture around. I guess she has not got enough to do... But that is fine. She helps me with all kinds of other errands and helpful advice so it is really nice to have her around.

By 7.15 I should be off to make it to work at 8.00. (This is the theory. In practice this never happens. 8.15 is more like it.) I get off at the mini-bus ‘depot’ near my work, which is actually nothing more than a big sandy place with lots of vans on it.

The vans have rows of benches screwed into them and people climb over and under each other to find a place.

From the mini-bus depot it is only a short walk to my work, passing interesting signage on the way. (Where would Malawi be without the indispensible Lilongwe School of Petrol Attendants?)

Then only a few more metres and there is the entrance to the premises of the Teachers Union of Malawi. Can you see the sign on the wall?

The funny thing about the location of the TUM is that it is situated in an area that consists of street after street of car wreckers, spare parts dealers and mechanics.

The place basically is one giant garage! Everywhere you look you see mechanics working on cars. These guys have their shop outdoor, just outside the TUM gate:

That is to say, this guy is just fooling around for the picture. The guys doing the actual work are hiding behind the car:

I have made a few friends in the area surrounding the office. In the building you can see behind the car in the penultimate picture work (from left) Julius, Nixon and Graham. The only really important one is Julius: I buy samosa’s from him. Graham is a good second: he is a big fan of Bingu was Mutharika and got me the picture that you saw behind Mrs Jere on my kitchen wall.

13

Clearly these three men are not mechanics. Oddly enough they sell air conditioners…

Next door we find Mike:

14

Mike used to work at the National Bank of Malawi, was a very good football player once and now owns this little spare parts shop. He is a big Manchester United fan and he regularly is hoarse on Mondays from watching them play over the weekend. He is quite a shy and friendly guy and I regularly drop by for a chat or to swop newspapers with him.

Then, just around the corner is a shop that looks like yet another spare parts outlet, but this is actually my Fanta dealership.

The guy behind the window likes to sell me Fanta’s not just from a business perspective, but he gets to teach me new phrases in Chichewa in the process. Obviously these are too difficult to remember for me so unfortunately I have already forgotten: “Can you open it?” and “Here is your change”, etc.

That’s all outside the office. Once inside we find the following people:

Jackson, the driver and registrar in the smallest office in the world. Apart from typing and laminating ID cards for teachers who need these cards in order to procure a loan, I am not sure what he does. He runs a lot of errands.

17

Nancy, the secretary to the Executive Secretary (and everybody else). She is also the gate keeper to Alfred’s office. He hides in his office most of the time. (So no picture of him here) Even though his office is less than 10 steps away from mine, in the extremely rare circumstances that he wishes to communicate something to me he writes a memo, gives it to Nancy, who hands it to me. When I want to ask a question or discuss something with him, I ask Nancy if he is free, then knock on his door and wait for his reply. I can then enter and ask my question. All of the above Alfred calls: the open door policy of the TUM office…

18

Grace, the treasurer. She thought she wasn’t wearing a very nice outfit the day I took the picture, so a head shot only. Another widow.

19

Marc, the assistant accountant. His sister has just moved into a house across the street from me. The accountant, Vitalis, is currently on leave, so unfortunately no picture of him yet.

20

Then the very important Mr Gowa. He makes the tea! As well as keeping the inside and the outside of the office area clean and tidy, playing receptionist, typing ID’s for teachers when Jackson is not around and generally being bossed around by Nancy – but in a nice way, because she is nice too.

21

And last but not least, Denis the Menace, the SG who, I have to add, does not always dress like this. Normally he is a suit and tie man, but this day he attended some multi-culti type meeting which required …pink outfits? Who knows.

So after a hard day at the office doing …virtually nothing (TUM, VSO and myself are still in the process of discussing what exactly I might contribute to the organisation. TUM had a little fantasy of having been given a free project officer (at the expense of the previous one whose contract was not renewed at the end of March) who would write project proposals for them so donors would give them money. A fundraiser, really. I thought that I would be doing more or less what I did in the Netherlands: together with the elected officials discussing and finding the best way to implement the strategic plan, giving training where necessary. Most certainly I did not envisage pushing a Malawian project officer out of a job! I guess the phrase “ Facilitating the implementation of the strategic plan” can mean different things to different people…As I said: the matter is still under discussion: I will keep you up to date) I take another mini-bus home to my area called Gulliver.

After I get off the mini-bus (you can see it on the main road in the distance) there is an opportunity for some last minute shopping of mops

Fruit

Or even hiring an assortment of handy-men.

If I am lucky there is no power cut in the evening and I can cook and eat my dinner in a leisurely fashion. If I am unlucky I race against the clock to get my dinner ready in time because several times a week there is no electricity between 6 and 7.30. Then at 9 at the latest: time for bed.

Malawi is a land with problems (4)

 

The Daily Telegraph May 12, 2008

 

CORRUPTION!

ABC probes Fam

 

Football

 

Stories by Joy Ndovi

 

The Anti Corruption Bureau (ABC) has instituted an investigation on Football Association of Malawi (Fam) referees desk for alleged incidents of favouritism and corruption in referees grading system.

The investigations follow complaints launched to the graft busting body by undisclosed members of the National Referees Association who claim to have been victimised by the association’s recommendation system for Fifa promotions.

In February the referees complained to Fam on the alleged cases of favouritism but after the association failed to address the issue they resorted to report the issue to the ABC.

Fam Chief Executive Officer Charles Nyirenda confirmed that ABC officials stormed the Technical Centre on Thursday and demanded the referees’ desk’s files. Nyirenda said the bone of contention was referees desk’s decision to alter the list of referees that had qualifies for promotion after Cooper Test conducted between October and December in 2007.

“The referees’ desk produced results of the Cooper Test and sent it to Fifa/Cal but it seems that the list had been manipulated and later on they decided to change the list again but Fifa refused to accept”.

[…]

 

 

"You may own the country, but we have all the money"

One of the things that surprised me after I had arrived in Malawi and had looked around for a little while is that a significant part of Malawians is of Indian decent. Even though they have been here for generations – I guess since the time when both India and Malawi were part of the great British Empire – they have not integrated with the African Malawians at all. They are not very visible in the streets, politics, offices or public transport. They pretty much mind their own business. Or rather: businesses. Because that is what they do: they run most of the businesses in Malawi. And boy, are they doing well for themselves, here in one of the poorest countries in the world. Most of them are very rich indeed. Which leads to their comparative invisibility in public life. They do not walk, cycle or ride mini-buses like the Africans do: they drive around in very expensive cars and live in very big mansions that have very high barbed-wired walls around them.

Having said that though, in another way entirely they are too very visible in the public sphere. Lilongwe’s old city centre’s ‘skyline’ is dominated by two enormous mosques. It is quite an unexpected sight when you first happen upon them. In a country where 80 percent of the population is Christian, in its main street there is not a building to be found that looks like a church. Whereas the 15% that is Muslim not only own all the shops in the high street but have managed to build their houses of worship there as well. This bizarre divide between the small but very rich ‘immigrant’ population and a majority of poor Africans sometimes gives rise to – in my mind - painful scenes. Like this one, which takes place every Friday lunch time:

Here is a gathering of penniless African women waiting for a hand-out from Indians driving out of the gates of the mosque in their Mercedes and BMW’s after the Friday service. Another such painful experience is watching Indian shop owners at work in their establishments. They sit on an elevated structure near the cash register, looking down from up-high into the till that is operated by an African, overseeing the rest of the shop and generally bossing their staff around. It is truly depressing.

Predictably, Indians do not seem to be particularly popular amongst Malawians. Maybe it is because of these labour relations that remind of the Industrial Revolution, maybe it is because of the smug phrase they sometimes use to indicate the difference between themselves and the native Malawians: “You may own the country, but we have all the money.” I wonder what sensitive soul came up with that beauty? In any case not the friendly Indian business woman I met in her new restaurant just 20 metres past the mosque. Here we had a long and interesting chat about how she had started out. Having immigrated only 5 years ago, she and her husband now owned 2 businesses. Actually, even as we were talking she was in the process of starting business number 3: an internet café at the back of her restaurant. But the main reason they had immigrated to Malawi was not business, it was religion. It turned out I was talking to a converted Hindu: she was the first minister of the First Asian Pentecostal Church of Malawi…

NIMBY

There is nothing that will raise your environmental consciousness as quickly as living in a city where there is no rubbish collection service. Anywhere.

Back home I was never much into ‘the environment’ and ‘pollution’ and ‘separating household rubbish’ to ‘save the planet for our children’ and what not. I recycled glass only because I could get fined if it was discovered in my rubbish bags by the rubbish police. True, I did stop short at tossing empty batteries in along with everything else, but other than that I pretty much couldn’t be bothered. Animal, mineral, vegetable, chemical: off it all went, snugly together in a stylish gray plastic bag to God knows where, to be dealt with in God knows what manner. Buried? Burned? Distributed amongst the poor? Couldn’t tell you, didn’t care.

What I can tell you though, is that all this changes when rubbish collection stops. And it becomes your personal responsibility to try and get rid of every single thing you bring into your house. Then, believe me, you start to care. With every plastic carrier bag they give you in shops, you agonise: “Oh no, not another plastic bag?! Where am I going to put that?!”

Fortunately I have discovered that a lot of the stuff you bring into your house, you can get rid off by eating it. I have tried this. This works. If you have a toilet connected to the city sewage system, so much the better. If not, eating will only offer temporary reprieve. But for everything that cannot be transported from your house through the plumbing, you must find another solution. That is to say: bury it, burn it, or distribute it amongst the poor. There are people in Lilongwe who make a living sifting through other people’s rubbish and resell some of the things they find. I buy empty mayonnaise jars for my herbs and spices from a guy who sits by the side of the river with a collection of ‘reclaimed’ containers in all shapes and sizes.

As for the rest, the non-reclaimable stuff, every house has its own waste disposal unit. This unit consists of: a pile. That’s right: every house has its very own pile of its very own garbage sitting in its very own back garden. How charming. This obviously started out as good idea in the time when most of people’s waste consisted only of organic stuff. Unfortunately this is no longer the case. Sometimes the pile starts out as a pit, but after a number of years, this will have grown into a mound. The stuff just doesn’t go away, does it? I too have such a mound in the back of my garden. In fact I inherited Alfred’s! Aren’t I the lucky one?! The answer, quite surprisingly, is: yes. Apparently my pile makes very strong fertiliser. Even peppered with all kinds of non-degradable junk, I am told it is perfect compost for my garden. So here am I, staring despondently at years of empty toothpaste tubes, pens, sandwich bags, broken flip-flops and an assortment of unidentified pieces of heavy iron sticking out of what I hope will become my vegetable garden, while Mayeso cheerfully exclaims: “This is very good topsoil!”. Yeah, well, let us first see what the tomatoes taste like, that’s what I say.

But one good thing has already come from all this. I have finally started separating my household rubbish. I have divided my pile into two sections. Kitchen and garden waste on the right, the rest on the left. (Right is buried, left burned.)

Section 65: the story continues

In the interest of continuing the exciting events in the Malawian presidential race, you will be glad to learn that Parliament is due to convene on 28 April. Parliament has been called to discuss the 2008/2009 national budget as Malawi’s financial year runs from 1 May to 30 April. However, the opposition is not so much interested in debating the budget as in invoking Section 65, which would help them throw out all defecting MP’s from the National Assembly. The current president Mutharika: “Parliament must discuss budget, nothing else but budget. No budget, no Section 65”.

Meanwhile, the revenge thirsty Muluzi has problems of his own, trying to convince his party to nominate him as the UDF presidential candidate at next week’s UDF convention:

 

The Nation, Thursday, 17 April 2008

 

UDF presidential race saga:

CLERGY WANT CONVENTION POSTPONED

 

By Olivia Kumwenda

 

Religious leaders from Balaka and Ulongwe have agreed to write UDF national chairman Bakili Muluzi to consider postponing the forthcoming convention for the party to come up with an alternative plan in case the law catches up with Muluzi and Vice-President Cassim Chilumpha. Both Muluzi and Chilumpha – the only UDF presidential aspirants at the convention scheduled for April 24 – have pending court cases.

Muluzi faces a constitutional case on his ability to run for presidency again after serving two consecutive five-year terms from 1994 to 2004 and a corruption case where the Anti-Corruption Bureau is probing him over 1.4 billion Kwadcha donor money allegedly deposited into his personal account. On the other hand, Chilumpa has a pending treason case for allegedly plotting to assassinate President Bingu wa Mutharika.

The clergy – who opted for anonymity – are reported to have held a meeting on Saturday in Machinga, where they discussed that having a person with a pending court case as a presidential candidate is not healthy for the party.

[…]

 

Well… quite. Surely everyone agrees that when your party’s only two presidential candidates are alleged criminals, postponing the convention is going to restore the health of the party.

Thank God for the clergy, that’s what I say.

 

New series!! The completely obscure yet universally admired Malawi Mai Quiz! (Edutainment for the geographically challenged)

Welcome to the first installment of the Malawi Mai Quiz on my Blog! A new and exhilarating way to learn about some of the interesting, moving, endearing, funny, important and/or downright stupid things I come across in my every-day life in Malawi.

What’s with the name? Well, ‘mai’ is the Chichewa word for ‘madam’ and also for ‘mother’. It is the polite way to address a woman. Malawians are very much into this formal style of address. Like the French they may call their best friends ‘madam Suchandsuch’ or ‘mister Whatsit’ even after they have known each other for a hundred years or more. In short, this quiz is about women in Malawi. It’s a multiple choice quiz. Which means that you can choose multiple answers.

Are there prizes to be won? Of course there are! A quiz would not be a proper quiz if there wasn’t a thousand Kwadcha at stake. That’s right! One zero zero zero crispy Kwadchas for the winner of each exciting episode, to be collected in person at my house in Area 49B (It’s the one with the white wall and light green gate, just knock, and if I don’t come out at once don’t worry, just knock again because I may not have heard the first time, I’m sorry it’s probably nothing personal) in Lilongwe. (Did I mention that Malawi residents are excluded from participation?)

A warning before we start. A quiz is not for everyone. If you are one of those ‘I-have-just-come-home-from-work-where-I-have-been-thinking-deep-and-complicated-thoughts-all-day-for-frankly-not-enough-money-if-you-ask-me-but-nobody-seems-to-give-a-shit-especially-not-my-boss-what-else-is-new-and-now-I-just-want-to-read-something-light-and-fluffy-for-God-sake-something-that-will-put-a-smile-on-my-face-and-help-me-relax-you-know-instead-of-having-to-do-more-bloody-thinking-I-don’t-care-for-how-many-freakin-Kwadchas-so-quiz-mai-foot-ha-ha-pun-intended’ kind of Blog reader, this may not be for you. In which case, not to worry my friend, just scroll on! (or surf to www.hormonetherapy.com). For the rest of you: here we go!

 

Malawi Mai Quiz: episode 1!

 

Where does a Malawi Mai keep her mobile phone?

Is this in:

 

A: her handbag or purse?

B: her hair?

C: the same place she keeps her money?

D: her bra?

E: Don’t be such an arse Caroline; this is obviously a trick question because Malawian women are too poor to even have a mobile phone!

 

Looking forward to your answers. Good luck!

Malawi is a land with problems (3)

The Daily Times, Friday, April 4, 2008

 

Reserve Bank of Malawi

 

PRESS RELEASE

Handling and Storage of the Malawian Currency

 

1.Introduction

The Reserve Bank of Malawi (the RBM) has the sole statutory authority to issue banknotes and coins as legal tender in Malawi in accordance with section 17 of the Reserve Bank of Malawi Act.

The RBM would therefore like to sensitize the general public on the proper handling and storage of banknotes and coins which will assist its efforts to improve efficiency in currency management.

[…]

 

4. General Guidelines for Handling Banknotes and Coins

Banknotes

·         Large amounts of cash should not be stored in homes or business premises but must be deposited in banks for safety.

·         Do not scatter banknotes on the floor during weddings and other similar celebrations but place the banknotes in baskets/trays arranged by the cashiers.

·         Do not step on banknotes.

·         Do not crumple banknotes.

·         Do not mutilate banknotes, as doing so is a criminal offence.

·         Do not staple banknotes.

·         Do not write on banknotes or make drawings on them.

·         Do not use Malawian Kwadcha banknotes in advertisements without proper authorization from the RBM.

·         Do not rub or wash banknotes

·         Avoid storing or placing banknotes in moist places.

 

Coins

·         Avoid putting coins in tins or burying them in the ground as they will get rusty.

·         Do not deface or smelt the coins as doing so is a criminal offence

·         The coating on the K5 and K10 coins is not gold; hence attempts to separate the inner and outer components of the coins in search of the perceived gold are not worthwhile.

[…]

 

6. Conclusion

The Bank would like to inform the general public that the Malawi Kwadcha banknotes and coins are legal tender in Malawi. Accordingly, the public should undertake financial and business transactions using the Malawian Kwadcha banknotes and coins.

 

(Signature)

Victor Mbewe

GOVERNOR

Azungu

In Malawi white people are called ‘azungu’. It is a positive word, originally a greeting with which you welcome foreigners. Walking down the street children point and wave at me in enthusiastic surprise, chanting “Aaaah-zuuung-guuuh!!” When I wave back at them, their joy is complete. They have a story to tell each other for the rest of the week. Browsing in the market salespeople call out to me to attract my attention: “Azungu!”, “Madam!”, “Azungu!” I am white and therefore rich, a good customer to have. They can try and charge me ‘azungu prices’. My 200 euro salary does not make me feel rich, most of my Malawian neighbours are certainly wealthier than I am, but they do not know this. As far as they are concerned all azungu are millionaires. They have seen the movies. They have seen the diplomats and aid workers in their big four-wheel-drive all-terrain vehicles. They have seen the gadgets even the poorest looking azungu tourists adorn themselves with. They know everything about azungu they need to know. Sometimes this knowledge leads to truly amazing behaviour. What to think of the young men that walk up to me in the street, brashly demanding: “Azungu, give me your bicycle!”. This happens a lot. “Azungu, give me your money!” Recently I have started to challenge people who do this. I say: “What do you think you are doing, approaching a total stranger in this manner? You don’t talk to rich Malawians this way, do you? Do you think that just because I am azungu you can walk up to me and shout ‘Give me! Give me! Give me!’?” This response baffles them. Because what else are azungu for but to give, give, give? It is not their fault that they think this. We have taught them this. Without realising it, without wanting it, we have taught them this. Unknowingly we have taught them things about azungu we are quite unaware of.

One Saturday evening when Mayeso arrived to start work, he noticed that I had done a lot of work in the garden, collecting rubble and putting it on big piles. Perplexed he stammered: “You have really surprised me, Madam, you have really amazed me.”

Confused I asked him: “Why is this?”

“Because I did not think you could work hard.”

Even more confused I said:“Excuse me? Why not? I am healthy. I have arms and legs. Why should I not be able to work hard?”

“Because you are weak. You look like a baby.”

By now I was stunned: “I beg your pardon?! I look like a baby?? You mean just me or all azungu?”

“All azungu. You look like babies. Because your bodies are soft, like babies. They do not look as if they could work hard, like we do. But you, you are active, Madam! You are like an African! That is why you have amazed me.”

I must say I was amused at the ease with which he was insulting me. He did not seem to realise it. It was all delivered in the friendliest of explanatory manners: The sky is blue, papaya’s grow on trees, azungu are like babies. It is no surprise that he should think this. All azungu that come to live in Malawi are told we must have staff to do our manual labour for us. Cleaning, gardening; it is our social obligation to provide employment for poor local people. They, clearly, draw their own conclusions. It reminds me of a ni-Vanuatu colleague who thought that white people were inherently smarter than the ni-Vanuatu because all white people went to university. For those were the only white people she ever met. I explained to Mayeso that azungu in their home countries do not have staff like they do when they live in Africa. At home they do all the work themselves.

He nearly fainted: “No! This cannot be true! You are not strong enough!”

When I added that they do all the work themselves because they cannot afford to have staff - what with having to pay a living wage and all – things moved outside the realm of the comprehensible altogether. I did not want to upset him too much: I asked him to start digging the flowerbeds. Order was restored.

Section 65

Malawi is in a strange political deadlock at the moment. Parliament has not convened for months and months because of a neat little snag in the constitution called ‘Section 65’. It would actually be funny if it wasn’t so seriously depressing at the same time. To explain it we must go back in history a little bit, and look at the origin of this impasse.

The year 1994 saw the end of the of the rule of a Dr. Kamuzu Banda, a dictator who had ruled Malawi since its independence in 1963. He had started out as a democratic leader, but pretty soon after his election to the office of president it became clear that he planned to stay there for the rest of his life. Indeed he managed to hang on for 30 years, but then he was forced to resign and call for elections. Exactly how his fall came about is a different story, what is important for our story here is that the 1994 elections were won by a man named Bakili Muluzi of the United Democratic Front. He was reelected in 1999 and when his second - and therefore constitutionally last - term drew to an end he too started to develop a serious wish to remain in office for the rest of his life. After all, one would agree that a job that ‘allows’ one unlimited access to public resources and use them for one’s own benefit is pretty hard to leave behind, wouldn’t one? So first he tried to convince parliament to make him president for life. But they were having none of it. Then he organised a referendum asking the Malawian people to allow him to run for a third term in office. Once bitten twice shy, they too were having none of it. With no options left to hold on to the presidency himself, he proceeded to handpick a successor - the relatively unknown outsider Dr. Bingu wa Mutharika - to run in the elections for the UDF, which they won. But while Muluzi started to get ready to use Mutharika as his marionette for the next 5 years, he got the surprise of his life listening to his protégée’s inaugural speech. In it Mutharika introduced a zero tolerance policy on corruption and declared his intentions to bring to justice all corrupt leaders from the past ten years who had stolen so much money from the public. One can only imagine the shocked outburst of disbelieve and anger this must have caused in Muluzi. The one thing on his mind since that day has been: REVENGE!!! As Muluzi was – and is – still party leader of the UDF he then conspired to throw Mutharika out of the party and thus out of office. Mutharika, not the dimmest of men as you may have gathered by now, made a surprising move. He quickly left the UDF, the party that brought him to power, and started a brand new party of which initially he was the only member. Imagine this: the current President of Malawi is the leader of a party that did not even exist, let alone took part, in the elections that put him in office. And the party that won the elections and put the president in power is now: the opposition. Welcome to Malawian politics.

Pretty soon more Members of Parliament left the UDF to join Mutharika’s new Democratic Progressive Party. Not that this new party had any better or more interesting policies to offer than any of the other parties. ‘Policy’ is not something that Malawian politicians tend to get involved in a lot. Politics is mainly about regional alliances, mudslinging and trying to get your hand in the till. So a few MP’s must have thought it worth the gamble to ‘cross the floor’ as switching parties is called, or more likely someone made it worth their gamble. Mutharika needed this support badly: one cannot rule a country without any support in parliament even if one is the president. But this is where Mutharika’s luck ran out and where the constitutional snag, the by now famous Section 65, came in. Because Section 65 of the Malawian constitution stipulates that any MP who crosses the floor will be thrown out of parliament at the earliest opportunity. Obviously the UDF did not waste time trying to invoke Section 65 by having it put on the parliamentary agenda for debate and submitting a motion that the defecting MP’s would be removed from parliament. However, again Mutharika surprised everyone. Faced with the risk of losing what little support he has in Parliament, Mutharika quite simply ‘suspended parliament’. It seems the man likes to operate on the very edge of democratic possibilities. This all happened last year. The budget for 2008 was passed five months too late in a special ‘one-off’ session of parliament. At the moment it is unclear when Parliament will finally meet again and what will be on the agenda. In the mean time Muluzi and Mutharika are slugging it out through the media. Not in a very sophisticated manner I might add. But then, that is probably a little bit too much to expect after the rather less than elegant events of the past years. For your enjoyment I copied most of a full page spread that the DPP took out in The Daily Times last week to ‘put the record straight’.

 

The Daily Times, Monday, March 31, 2008

 

SPECIAL BRIEFING TO MALAWIANS ALL OVER THE WORLD

 

We hereby present this briefing to all Malawians all over the world in an effort to explain the clandestine campaign being waged against His Excellency the State President Dr. Bingu wa Mutharika both in the electronic and print media. We have reason to believe that opposition United Democratic Front under the auspices of former State President Bakili Muluzi and his bench men are behind this smear campaign. Muluzi who already served his two terms of office but is now an aspirant for the high office has made no secret that he has an important unfinished business meaning to remove Bingu wa Mutharika from power come what may. In his own words Muluzi has stated that this is the only thing on his mind. Most probably out of such desperation he has resorted to tactics that can only be described as tacky and provocative.

 

ON LINE NYASA TIMES PUBLICATION

Nyasa Times which is domiciled in the United Kingdom has been in the forefront maligning the State President, members of his immediate family, government officials and members of the ruling Democratic Progressive Party. The stories that appear on this on line publication are very novel, defamatory, damaging, disrespectful and full of anger that can easily create tension and distrust in our country. In addition, there is no truth at all in what is being published on Nyasa Times. The stories are not factual, they are unfair, unbalanced and ethically bankrupt.

Nyasa Times has not even been civil in the way it has tackled stories about the President. Opposition leaders should realize that just because one is in the opposition, that is not a licence to be disrespectful to the country’s leadership. Speculation has been rife on Nyasa Times on the health of the State President, which possibly intended to cause unnecessary alarm. But surely, Malawians know that the State President is enjoying the best of health and it is Muluzi instead who has been going for medical check up to the United Kingdom. But the picture being painted by Nyasa Times is as if the contrary was true.

We are seriously monitoring the reports on Nyasa Times and those involved should know that we have the capacity to fight back. We have got our reputation to protect and we are not going to allow an online publication to throw mud at the State President just because someone desperately wants to become president again.

 

Maize availability

It is customary that maize is always in short supply around February both in Malawi and the region as a whole. This is well known phenomenon in Malawi and there is no way that UDF/Muluzi should claim that there is hunger in Malawi. We are aware of all the many tactics that have been employed to create fear and panic. In all fairness Muluzi should be the last person to comment on maize shortage and the scare for looming hunger.

People of Malawi still have fresh memories that under Muluzi’s leadership people routinely survived on maize husks and green mangoes from as early as August onwards. There were huge quantities of maize being imported and the silos were empty. That is not the case this time around. Yet Muluzi/UDF secretly sold maize to East Africa when the country was without adequate maize. The former president ans his party are deliberately distorting facts and they are unsuccessfully trying to compare the self inflicted crisis they created in their time to the current situation. They are forgetting that Malawians know all too well the meaning of hunger. The situation is being politicized and therefore being blown out of all proportions. In most of the areas crops are maturing and there is a whole array of foodstuffs. Is it right to say we are in a hunger crisis? By the way, what happened to the proceeds of the sale of maize to East Africa during the Muluzi era?

In 2005, 4 million were unable to feed themselves and they had to rely on food aid while in 2006, this figure reduced by 80%to 800,000who benefitted from food aid. The fact that 11 in every 12 people could be described as food secure in 2006 means that the country had attained Food Security. The situation in 2007 was even better as input subsidies helped increase agricultural productivity which led to the largest ever maize crop. But Nyasa Times and UDF would like the world to believe otherwise.

[…]

 

MULUZI’S LEGACY

Muluzi should refrain from trying to compare his ten years of mismanagement to the four years of President Mutharika’a success story. The former State President should not think that people have forgotten his legacy and how things were in his time which was characterized by chaos and ineptitude.

As an aspirant to the high office there is totally nothing that he can offer than enriching himself. People should not forget that donors walked away from this country and the IMF and World Bank could nit bail us out because of lack of transparency and accountability of the Muluzi administration. There is nothing new he can bring to the country since in the ten years he was on the driving seat nothing much changed for the better. The man just likes making empty promises. We are appealing to Malawians to clearly scrutinize this man and his intentions. The people who he promised to provide jobs he did not and even those that had already worked in the mines such as ex-TEBA employees, his agents embezzled their pension money. Whatever he says must therefore be taken with a pinch of salt.

 

PRESIDENT DR. MUTHARILA’S ECONOMIC SUCCESS

 

[Ten paragraphs full of lots of good stuff about Mutharika’s achievements such as lower inflation rate, lower poverty rate, increased export value, etc. etc. etc. ]

 

CONCLUSION

This briefing is aimed at informing the public of what is going on and to put the record straight. We urge those contributing to the Nyasa Times not to peddle lies and that we reserve the right to seek legal redress if they do not stop.

We have been forced to react to these unwarranted attacks being made on the State President and his government and we will not just standby and look on this a his detractors continue on this futile campaign of misinformation.

 

Chikumbutso Mtumodzi

STATE HOUSE PRESS OFFICER

LILONGWE

March 25, 2008

Malawi is a land with problems

Recently my cleaning lady lined my cupboard shelves with old newspapers. I did not want to deny you the pleasure of reading this article that caught my eye from underneath the peanut butter jar:

 

The Daily Times, Friday, December 1, 2006

 

Female condoms to empower women-govt

BY FRANK NAMANGALE

 

Government says the on-going campaign to drum up support for the female condom is designed to give women a chance to make a choice on condom use.

Deputy director for Reproductive Unit in the Ministry of Health Fannie Kachale, told a gathering in Blantyre yesterday during the open day for the female condom initiative that women needed to know that the condom is there to empower them.

Kachale said in an interview that women never had a chance to protect themselves before, as they would go for what men suggested. She said this put most of them at risk of contracting sexual transmitted infections, HIV or unwanted pregnancies.

“The female condoms should be found in more outlets across the country. This will enable women to have an easy access.” she said.

[…]

I have a husband

I have a husband. This is the most important piece of information that I take away from the second half of the VSO In Country Training I just attended. (An otherwise rather uninspiring two weeks of power–point presentations and occasional excursions with, apart from the odd Brit, an equally uninspiring and strangely apolitical group of fellow volunteers). That up until now I had not actually been aware of the fact that at some point in the recent or not so recent past I must have wed is immaterial. That I am not acquainted with my husband’s name or indeed his features also does not matter. Who am I to question the wisdom of a traditional Malawian faith healer? (That I have no recollection of the wedding night however is, I think, regrettable.)

Traditional healers are still an important, if non-official, part of the health care system in Malawi, which is the reason we visited one during the training. Before people visit a doctor or a hospital it is likely that they have consulted a traditional healer first. After all, traditional healers have been around much longer and are ingrained in Malawian culture in a way that Western medicine will never be. And considering the abominal state of the latter in Malawi it is likely that the success rates of both are on about equal par. Besides, traditional healers have something that Western medicine has not: a special connection with the spirit world. Spirits of deceased ancestors guide and advise them when dealing with the problems they are presented with by their ‘patients’. The problems are not necessarily of a medical nature. People consult traditional healers about a great variety of issues, such as “Who stole my radio and can you help me get it back?’ Try walking into a First Aid Department with a question like that. But in cases like this the traditional healer is your man. Or would be if the government had not forbidden healers to divulge names of culprits. Apparently before the government put a stop to this, lynching used to be the order of the day after healers had pointed the finger at individuals who may or may not have been guilty as charged. In the case that we witnessed it would not have done any good anyway. Although the healer could ‘see’ who had stolen the radio, he also ‘saw’ that it had already been sold and was forever out of reach of the rightful owner. Bummer.

Anyone who wants to consult a traditional healer can just go to their place of business. In this case the healer held court in a small mud brick hut with a straw roof in a village some twenty minutes outside of Lilongwe. He was an old skinny man, dressed in a long white cotton robe with red Christian crosses. On his head he was wearing something that so closely resembled a chefs’ hat that I am sure it could not have been anything else, except that this one was adorned with yellow crosses. A loose-leaved Bible in his hands, he stood firmly in the middle of the small hut, eyes closed and swaying from left to right Stevie Wonder style, screaming at the top of his voice in a language that only the spirits and – rather conveniently – his wife understood. Everyone who had a problem to present to the healer sat around on one of the grass mats on the floor waiting to be called forward. When it was their turn they respectfully stood in front of the healer. He then discussed their problems making full use of his lung capacity, with the rest of the hut his captive audience. Grapevine guaranteed. It was quite a spectacular sight. The first person to be called was a mother with her obviously brain damaged young son. One of my fellow volunteers, a doctor, thought that the boy seemed to be suffering from the results of cerebral malaria or meningitis. The healer’s diagnosis differed only slightly: according to him the boy sitting in the hut was nothing but an empty shell. The boy’s spirit had been stolen and had been put to work on a field somewhere far away. Mother and child were invited for a separate one-on-one session with the healer later, to discuss what could be done about retrieving it. Nobody blinked an eye at all this. Spirits being stolen and occasionally being returned to their original owner is apparently part of the everyday Malawian experience.

Next one up was a young woman concerned about the fact that she could not get pregnant. When asked she replied that her husband had not accompanied her to the healer. She had brought one of his shirts in his stead. Fortunately, after it was handed over the healer could ‘speak’ to the husband ‘through the shirt’. Considering what followed I think the husband had been wise to deputise his shirt rather than appear at the session in person. The diagnosis was quick and decisive: there was nothing wrong with the woman, but her man was impotent. This was not only piped out loudly by the healer and translated by his wife at equal volume, but to the great amusement of everybody present except the poor woman whose husband was the subject of all this he continued to illustrate the point by dangling his arm in front of him as if was an elephants trunk. Clearly, the news was bad. Luckily treatment was available: some small cuts above her eyebrows and some herbs to be put in her husband’s food would remedy the situation. But before these were administered by some assistants outside the hut somewhere, the healer gave a further demonstration of some tricks the woman could apply to excite her husband, such as bending over in a sexy manner while sweeping the house or pounding the maize. And if all of this did not have the desired effect, i.e. conception, she was advised to have sex with a brother-in-law. Next patient, please! Through all this the woman’s face had remained grave; it was obviously a very serious matter to her and she was not at all entertained by the healer’s antics.

Next to step forward was a woman worried that her husband was unfaithful to her. He too had considered it wise to remain behind instead of joining his wife at the consultation, and apparently for good reason: the healer confirmed all the woman’s suspicions and worse. Not only was her husband sleeping around with several women, he was also giving them money. What is more, he intended to marry one of them! According to the healer this behaviour was not acceptable in these times of STI’s and especially HIV/AIDS. The husband should learn to restrain himself! When he felt horny he should take his penis in his hand and admonish it, tell it to get down! To great hoots of laughter he illustrated this by bunching up his robe at crotch height, shaping it into a tube and talking to it. After this the husband should hurry home and jump his wife. The woman also declared that she had been having palpitations recently. This did not surprise the healer in the slightest: one of her husband’s mistresses had put a charm on her, hoping to kill her so she could marry the husband herself. Again the healer was sorry that government regulation prohibited him from disclosing the identity of this ruthless rival.

And so it continued. A woman who was getting deaf was told that someone close to her (who unfortunately could not be named…) had tried to put a spell on her by putting something in the water. The water must have gotten in her ear and caused her ailment. Had the water gotten into her eyes she would now have been getting blind, had she drank it her throat would be sore. Medication, to be taken twice daily, would surely cure her provided she drank it facing east in the morning and west in the evening.

When all patients had been seen - or perhaps rather all people brave enough to face certain humiliation had come forward – the healer’s wife asked with a twinkle in her eyes if perhaps one of the foreign visitors had a question for the healer…? Yours truly, keen to have a closer look at the proceedings and always game for a laugh, offered to give it go. It seemed a day for relationship issues, so I decided to go with the theme: “When will I find a husband?”. The question seemed quite clear to me, but the healer needed to make a couple of enquiries nevertheless:

“Do you have husband?!”

“No”

“Do you have a boyfriend?!”

“No”

“Yes you do! You are lying, because I can see a man standing next to you!”

Obviously he was the only one, but this did not seem to worry anyone. They all thought it was rather funny. Including the healer himself. Standing right in front of him I could see him chuckling in between his trance-like cries. So my protestations that I really truly knew no man, so to speak, fell on deaf ears. But I did not mind. Who would with such wonderful news to digest? That is to say the bit about having a husband, not the part about basically being called a lying slut, obviously. I have a husband. Would he’d show up in the flesh though!

 

 

Miss Carlo & Denis the Menace

So what about work then? All this talk about houses and staff is all very well, but not the reason for my move to another continent. Well, I am glad to report work is fine. From the beginning I have been made to feel very welcome. The office staff consists only of 11 people and everybody is very keen to offer help and generally are very friendly. They are also quite pleased by my attempts to learn Chichewa, which is often cause for great amusement. As said before I have two bosses, Denis and Alfred, that I answer to, and I get along with them quite well, which is easy to do because they too are very friendly, each in their different way. (Actually, I have just finished writing a 7 page document with strategic recommendations and delivered it to them so we will see if come Monday I am happy to repeat this statement…!) Alfred is somewhat quiet and gentle – even after the episode at his house! He calls me Miss Carlo. In Chichewa the letters ‘R’ and ‘L’ are more or less interchangeable, and a name with two of these close together causes confusion and distraught tongue muscles. Denis is a different cattle of fish. He is big and exuberant and sometimes likes to shout at people. The other day I was sitting in my office when I heard him screaming and ranting at some-one through the telephone so loudly, the windows were rattling in their frames. When I asked him later what was the matter he explained that he had been shouting at one of the Union’s district leaders who was too scared to confront the District Education Manager about something. So Denis kindly reminded him: “THIS IS NOT A BUSINESS FOR COWARDS MY FRIEND!!!” After this I have started calling him “Denis the Menace”, which he finds hilarious, flattering even!

 

One of the most important things holding the Union back at the moment is a severe lack of money. For years and years the membership fee of the Union has been 30 Kwadcha, a very small amount of money. To compare: a minibus ride in Lilongwe costs 90 Kwadcha as does a loaf of bread, a Carlsberg beer is 75. (How odd that these should be the three prices I can recall from the top of my head…!). So 30 Kwadcha is nothing really. So, wisely, one year ago at its Annual General Meeting the Union increased its membership contribution to 1% of every member’s salary. All hell broke loose. Teachers were up in arms against the new fee, which sometimes amounted to a 500% increase. The media reported on it, angry letters were exchanged through the opinion pages of national newspapers. Apparently members were unhappy about the way they felt the Union had (not) been representing them in the past. Now if this happened in Europe, the Union would lose a bunch of members, start collecting the new fees and get on with it. Here though, there is a little snag. Union membership fees are deducted from teachers’ salaries by the government before these are paid to the teachers. Normally this is of course a very convenient arrangement, saving the Union a lot of time and money collecting the fees of 35.000 members and chasing the non-payers. But not this time. Because of all the uproar, the Minister of Education refused to start deducting the new fee, claiming that the decision to raise the contribution did not have the support of the members. First the Minister forced the Union to up-date its membership lists so he would not be deducting money from the wrong people. This was done, costing the Union time and money. Now the Minister has instructed the Union to get written approval from every single union member to deduct the new fee. Again this is going to cost the Union time and money – which they do not have. What a clever way to paralyse your ‘opponent’! To this day the issue has not been solved. So first strategic jobbie for Miss Carlo: teach Denis the Menace a few subtle negotiating skills…

 

PS: For the next 2 weeks I will be locked up in a hostel without internet access, taking part in the second half of VSO’s In Country Training. So I will talk to you again after Easter.

New series!! Malawi is a land with problems

As keen followers of international political and social affairs, we all know Malawi to be a place where for decennia people have suffered from poverty, starvation, deadly diseases, corrupt leaders and what not. Indeed, the very reason I have come here is to try and contribute a little bit to the eradication of some of these evils. But having been here for a while now and reading the newspapers it becomes apparent that this is not all. As if being poor, sick, hungry and ripped off is not enough, it seems there is a whole bunch of other issues out there that just aren’t right. I therefore decided to start a new series on my Blog to let you in on some of the other challenges facing Malawians today. Please find below the first installment: the horrendous and downright illegal use of flashing lights and sirens:

THE DAILY TIMES, Thursday, February 28, 2008

Malawi Government

MINISTRY OF TRANSPORT, PUBLIC WORKS & HOUSING

DIRECTORATE OF ROAD TRAFFIC

PRESS RELEASE

ILLEGAL USE OF FLASHING LIGHTS AND SIRENS

The Directorate of Road Traffic has noted with concern on illegal fitting and use of Flashing Lights (Beacons) on Sirens on vehicles in the country. The Directorate wishes to inform that under the Road Traffic Act it is illegal to fit and operate a motor vehicle on a public road with flashing light (beacon) and sirens which is not authorized by the Directorate of the Road Traffic.

The Road Traffic Act (1997) section 91 (3b) and 93(b) and Road Traffic Regulations 200 under Construction, Equipment and Use, Part IV “Equipment On or in Respect of Vehicles”, Regulation 64 (2), (3), (4), (5), and Regulation 89 n(2) clearly outlines the motor vehicles authorized to have the facility in execution of duty listed are as follows:-

VEHICLE COULOUR OF LIGHT SIREN

Road Traffic Directorate Blue Yes

Police Blue Yes

Ambulance Red Yes

Fire-Fighting Red Yes

Construction vehicles Amber No

Rescue vehicles Red Yes

Break-down Towing vehicles Amber No

There are other protected names, signs and emblems which are protected by the laws of the land e.g check band which are normally used by the law enforcement security Agencies. On this, if in doubt please contact the Directorate of Road Traffic or the Police. The Directorate of Road Traffic is requesting all those concerned to obtain clearance and register with Road Traffic Before 1^st March, 2008.

The Directorate of Road Traffic always appreciates your voluntary compliance and cooperation on such important matters.

DIRECTORATE

"Madam... he has come!"

Last weekend I moved into my new house.  It turned out that Alfred’s moving out was not entirely coincidental to my arrival after all. He was moving to a new house that he had been building in the past few years. He told me that the build of this new town house had been a bit slow in recent months because he had been concentrating on finishing his holiday house at Lake Malawi first… The fact that I had arrived had sped up his move to his new house which he could finish now using the rent that VSO is paying him for my house. Not a bad deal, I should think. Especially since the union is paying for all the refurbishing that was done in the past two weeks. So no pity on the good man, who also removed all the plants from the garden and every single light bulb from the house when he left.

So on Saturday my lovely colleague Jackson came to pick me up at my temporary house with an enormous truck. We threw in my suitcases and a couple of bags with household equipment I had purchased in preparation for the move. Then it was off to the VSO depot to collect my furniture. VSO supplies everything one needs in a house: fridge, hotplate, beds, dining room table with chairs and no less than two overstuffed sofas with matching comfy chairs - Malawi style. This means that they are covered in such a tacky, burgundy velvety material that I can state with absolute confidence that the interior of my house now has the ability to move to tears third-rate brothel owners all over the world.

With the move to my permanent place I also had to find a security guard to protect my house, my stuff and myself while I am asleep. This is quite normal practice in Malawi, and not just for white people. Lots of Malawians have night guards depending on the area where they live and the security situation of their house. As white people - and therefore perceived to be extremely rich - volunteers are an attractive target for burglars. Moreover, there are special circumstances that can make a person extra vulnerable to a break-in during the night. Two senior policemen that delivered a security briefing to the new volunteers in our first week in Malawi warned us that some thieves go to witchdoctors to buy a special charm that puts prospective victims in such a deep sleep that they do not notice their house being emptied around them. For all these reasons VSO recommends that all volunteers hire a night watchman and they give us a special allowance to pay their salary. But how to go about finding such a person? A reliable, brave man prepared to maim and kill in defense of my burgundy furniture? I decided to ask James, one of the guards at my temporary lodgings for advice and he immediately suggested I interview his brother the following evening. The next morning at 6.30 I was barely awake when I heard a knock at the door and James booming in a deep grave voice: “Madam, the man you have been waiting for has come!!” Still half asleep I excitedly thought: ‘Oh wow! Can this really be happening? Richard Armitage here in Lilongwe? On my very doorstep?!’ But of course no such luck. Another kind of luck: James’ very nervous, but very polite and eager brother Mayeso.  After a short interview and some serious negotiations about working hours and salary I thought he would make a fine guard-annex-gardener and offered him the job. He was so grateful, it was painful to watch: “Oh Madam!” (Mind you, this was before he had even seen my furniture) “May God bless you with a long life! I am so happy I will be under a white woman now! I am so lucky that I have found a white employer to look after me and my family!” And indeed, in Malawi being an employer does not simply mean exchanging money for labour. It is almost like adopting a whole family. When someone gets sick you must help. If someone in the extended family dies you must contribute to the cost of the funeral. If Mayeso dies I must buy the coffin. And with an estimated HIV/Aids prevalence of about 15% these are not merely imaginary occurrences. As I am typing this I can hear him walking around my house, keeping watch. He seems to have a very nasty cough this evening… Just great…

PS: I have been so busy with adapting to a 1000 new, strange, exciting and practical things in my first few weeks that I have kept you waiting for this post longer than usual. I apologise and once I have settled in to my new life a bit more I will mend my ways… Also, some of you informed me that Blogger is not allowing anyone to post comments. I do not know why this is and I will definitely look into it because I am missing them too!

Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore!

I have arrived. I am in Malawi. In its capital city Lilongwe to be precise, my hometown for the next year or so. The journey to get here went very well, although the farewell at Schiphol was rather more tearful than usual. Saying good-bye seems to have gotten harder over the years. In the past I used to practically sprint towards the customs officers, bouncing with anticipation about the new adventures that were awaiting me. This time though, the farewell committee consisting of Janine, Marijn and Fien nearly had to boot me out of the country, wet eyes, wet nose, wet handkerchief and all.

By the time I reached Heathrow I had sufficiently recovered to meet the other four Dutch volunteers who had been on the same flight with me. And at Lilongwe Airport we met up with the rest: a collection of English, Scottish, Pilipino, Indian and Kenyan nationals. A fresh batch of doctors, nurses, teachers, irrigation officers and organisation advisers: we were 14 in total. Queuing up to enter Malawi we were all a bit nervous to see if someone had really come to pick us up. We needn’t have worried. We were met by Margie, a VSO programme assistant who took us to a hostel were she would guide us through the first week of what VSO calls ‘in-country training’. A series of sessions on culture, language and security, a trip to a health centre, buying Malawian SIM cards for our mobile phones, sightseeing in Lilongwe’s old town, et cetera. The most exciting part of the ICT promised to be the ‘employers’ workshop’. The employers of all new volunteers come down to Lilongwe to meet ‘their’ volunteers. Bosses and volunteers then spend two days getting to know each other, discussing organisation culture (What (not) to wear, what to call people, working hours, etc), exchanging mutual expectations and concerns, and planning the first few days at work. Some employers had traveled for one and a half days to attend the workshop, so you can imagine my disappointment when my employer, based in Lilongwe, the nearest of them all, failed to show up! I must say was quite upset. I feared this was Vanuatu all over again, where most organisations did not really give a hoot about volunteers and treated them accordingly. Thankfully the VSO office here seems to be more astute than the one in Vanuatu and a few telephone calls were quickly made to track down one of my new bosses, the Secretary General (SG) or the Executive Secretary (ES) of the Teachers Union of Malawi (TUM). When the SG, Denis, was found he explained that the invitation to the workshop must have been wrongly forwarded to his predecessor, so he and the ES, Alfred, were actually quite unaware it was going on at all. To my great relief he cleared his schedule immediately and joined the workshop as soon as he could. It was agreed that we would catch up on the parts that he missed on Monday morning at the TUM offices together with the ES and some-one from VSO.

Friday after lunch all volunteers re-packed their bags and the big moment had arrived. Everybody was piled into their employers’ cars and set off for their new home and place of work somewhere in Malawi. In five weeks time we will meet again for the second part of the ICT. I cannot wait to hear everybody’s stories!

So what about me? Where did I go? As I had accepted my placement late in December the house that the TUM had found for me was not quite ready yet. It had been approved by VSO only the day before and was now being painted. Therefore the assistant to the VSO education programme, a nice guy called Kayakangu, dropped me at my temporary accommodation and invited me to go and have a look at my new house. Good plan! The house is in ‘Area 49b’, an average Lilongwe suburb, which I think is great. Sometimes volunteers in capital cities are housed in predominantly ex-pat areas where the chances of getting to know and integrating with local people are very slim. Hopefully that will not be the case here. When we arrived at the house we were invited in by someone whom I assumed to be the landlord, and who introduced himself as Alfred. ‘Hey, another Alfred’ I thought ‘Must be a popular name’, and as I was focused on the house I thought nothing further of it. The landlord showed me around the house, which he was in the process of moving out off. This I found a bit odd, but again thought nothing more of. As we went from room to room I pointed out things that I thought needed fixing such as some missing window panes, the odd missing security bar and the kitchen counter that was nearly falling apart. The landlord and Kayakangu assured me that everything would be taken care of. In the backyard I saw an old rusty car without wheels and an enormous pile of rubbish and I politely insisted that I really hoped those would be removed before I moved in as well. Again the landlord gently confirmed that he would take care of it. Overall I was quite pleased with the place and hopefully I will be moving in sometime next week. When it was time to leave we all shook hands and Kayakangu said to Alfred “So we will see you on Monday morning at the TUM offices to go over some of the stuff that was discussed in the workshop”. At first I thought ‘Huh? Why should this landlord be joining us for that?’ (honestly that is how thick I was!) but then it finally hit me. Ooh……my……God……! Oh nooo!!! Had I really been more or less ordering my new boss to do this, that and the other to his own house? The house that he was actually painting and moving out off to accommodate me? What must he have thought of my behaviour?! Even though words could not begin to describe my embarrassment, I started apologizing profusely. For some reason Kayakangu had assumed that we already knew each other so he too apologized for not introducing us properly. Thankfully Alfred took it all in good humour. He seems like a really friendly gentle man. Let’s hope he will get a better impression of me as we start working together!

On the way back Kayakangu assured me that Alfred’s moving out was coincidental to my arrival. I am not completely convinced. I will keep you posted.