I don’t really know what to make of it. It’s been playing on my mind a lot lately. I work for a charity, which partners with small organisations in Malawi, to help communities overcome the things that keep them locked in extreme poverty. In Malawi at the moment, as in other places, there is a severe hunger situation. Climate change has resulted in highly erratic rainfall patterns, making growing crops difficult. Because most people are dependant on the food that…
They were arranged in an enormous semicircle in the centre of a grassy plain. There must have been 500 of them at least, seated under an unblemished Malawian sky. We sat facing them, sheltering from the heat under a cover made from seed and fertiliser sacks, which flapped gently against a crude eucalyptus frame. Between us and the multitude stood a tall man in a red silk shirt. He had a microphone, and was addressing the crowd excitedly in the…
Last summer I grew vegetables for the first time. As I prevailed energetically upon a small area of grass behind our flat, digging long, spade-depth trenches to scrape the grass and weeds into, followed by the turned soil (as my Grandfather taught me), I enjoyed meditating on the plentiful and rich produce that would burst forth over the coming months. My expectations however, were to be painfully far from being met. The poor peas poked their leaves only a centimeter…