Monocrops Far From the Main Road

I got on the back of a seemingly comfy pillowy mattress-like motorcycle taxi seat. Over ten-kilometers later, I realized the fluffyness was an attempt to make up for the most painful, bumpy moto ride I have had yet, down and up incredibly rocky dirt roads built by chance rather than engineers. I was bumping up and down, in the air at times. There was a miniscule bar in the back to hold on to with one hand, the only means of staying on the bike.

When I got to the other end, I met a woman who, nine months earlier, had given birth moments after riding such a motorcycle ten kilometers in the other direction to the nearest clinic. The baby had started pushing its way out as she was riding on the back of the moto.

She lives in a place where buffalo run around. We saw one being chased by a dog. The buffalo won, and the dog was seen slowly trotting back home. The closest neighbor is around fifty meters away, fairly far for Rwanda, which has a high population density.

Outside, the grass is mostly not green, but a light beige, in contrast to more fertile areas only kilometers away.

They live near a swamp. A recent law bans the growing of traditional crops, such as cassava and potatoes, in the swamp area. Instead, all plant rice in this area on the small plot of land, roughly 40 by 50 meters, allocated to each family.

Cooperatives of around six to ten members sell the seeds to the farmers, who grow rice and sell the rice back to the cooperatives for 230 francs a kilo, the price after the deduction for the seeds. Around 100 kilos is expected to be grown each month for a profit of 23,000 francs a month.

Nobody quite knows if the rice will grow and what they will do if it does not.

This is clearly a government-mandated, not market-oriented, approach. The commentary on this policy has been, in many circles, quite critical, such as this article by Manuel Milz.

The only defense of the policy I can think of: with very limited land resources, and a need to provide nutrition for the population to assure healthy people and lower medical costs for the government, it's necessary to utilize the land the best way possible. If there is a swamp area that can grow rice very well, and another area that can grow beans very well, and a country lacking in nutrition that only these crops can provide, it makes sense to require harvesting those crops in those areas. Healthcare is not market-oriented, it is provided by the government; so to cut costs in health, it is necessary to alter the market in favor of eating healthy things.

However, if rice really can produce a greater profit as the government claims, then farmers will choose to grow rice. If they do not choose to grow rice because of the risks, but the government mandates that the long-term profits and health benefits as a whole will outweigh any individual economic and health risks, then the risk should not fall on the individual farmers without their consent.

But this is all classic, old news: my biggest concern is with the cooperatives.

The cooperative purchasing rice in this area are registered for the government. I was told they needed to do this "in order to get the ok" to buy the rice. If there is any bureaucracy involved in creating the body necessary to sell seeds and buy back the products, that creates even less competition in the market. Cooperatives are an excellent way to promote transport and resale of goods, but if there are laws limiting what farmers can produce, there should at least be plenty of multiple buyers so the farmers have some sort of negotiating power.

The distance from the main road and the expense of getting there means farmers can hardly compare different markets and find the market willing to pay the highest price. Multiple cooperatives approaching the farmers could mean a more fair price. And by "fair" I mean enough to live on.

Because the distance also means additional jobs to supplement farming are difficult to come by. Primary school teachers also make only 24,000 francs a month, but if you are teaching and farm, the total income is more than the equivalent of 24,000 francs a month.

To make matter worse, the low population density and distance from the main road means there is no lower secondary school where students can improve their job prospects, and eventually leave the area.

This particular family has chickens. They wobble in and out of the house, attempting to squeeze their feathery bodies under doorways to reach smaller rooms where they can lay their eggs in private, with around ten eggs total laid each day. "ssshhhhhh!" family members yelled at the chickens until they ran outside the house, wandering back in moments later. The eggs, at least, provide some protein.

While the agriculture on the outside and prospects for the future are uncertain, the inside of the family's house had a sturdy furniture and the best interior design the family could come up with, given the circumstances. The floor, covered with a traditional straw mat, is very flat because the dirt is mixed with cow-dung, which hardens the ground. It also attracts thousands of flies, tempted by the cow dung only they can smell, but forever blocked by the straw mat. The flies fly upwards to the food at meal time.

The insects contrast sharply with the careful, almost Victorian set up, with a complete living room set of couch and three arm chairs with comfortable pillows, all surrounding a nice, wooden stylized coffee table. Over the back pillows lie little ivory-colored embroidered cloth napkins which match the curtains hung over every door way, themselves also embroidered with pastel flowers - nothing too bright, quite subtle, very tasteful. The coffee table has a matching cloth napkin under a vase filled with plastic flowers. The cow-dung really does create a very flat, hard dirt floor under the smooth mat. If you are wearing heals, they make a clicking sound.

If I took a picture and Photoshopped out the flies and multiple wasp nests in the corners, it could really be something from Martha Stewart. Or at least Ikea.

I put the baby almost born on a motorcycle on my lap. "No, don't hold it, he will urinate on you," I was warned. Just in time, I picked the baby up and quickly placed it on the floor. "Do you use diapers?" I asked. "They are too expensive. Soap is expensive."

Soap is expensive in the area because it is far from the main road, an extra 200 francs (roughly $33 more) so babies clothes are changed if they have an accident, rather than their diapers.

The motorcycles picking us up were late by three hours, despite calling to remind them.

"I will tell them we will take another moto."

That, clearly, did not speed things up because there are no other motos.

Even if children do find the energy in them to walk twenty kilometers a day to the nearest secondary school, the school is a private one, so most cannot afford the 300,000 francs ($500) a year school fees. The local primary school has no English speaking teachers so the classes are in Kinyarwanda. As a result, it is not possible to take the national examinations, which are in English, and which can mean a scholarship to a public secondary boarding school.

In the outhouse in the back there was an old English test, placed conveniently there for toilet paper. The marks were ok, but the level not much higher than grade 2, though the children were much older.

There are plans to create a more conveniently located lower secondary school in the area. I hope those plans are implemented as fast as the Crop Intensification Program. And I hope an engineered road and vehicles will some day connect them to the main road for easier access to markets, clinics, and more pleasant birthing experiences.