PHOTO ESSAY- Moonshine!

 

 

Communities in Uganda are resilient, and make a living through a myriad of ways. One way is through distilling alcohol. The “Starch Factory Savings Group”, one of my VSLAs, earns money through making “waraji”- otherwise known as “unity”.  (It is true that alcohol makes the people come together!) Backyard distilling can be an easy way to make money, but it is most definitely dangerous. People here are often injured or even killed when the oil drum, used to create the alcohol vapour, explodes due to the intense heat.

The “Starch Factory” Savings Group poses for a photo outside their village.

Here Nancy shows me how to make “waraji”. In the small read pail is a mixture of sugar, water, and yeast. The large bucket holds cold water to cool the alcohol vapour. The yellow jerry can holds the final, purified product. Legend says it is so strong it can make you blind.

The nearly pure alcohol vapours make their way from the oil drum, down the steel tube that runs through a bucket of cold water, where it liquefies. It is filtered and then put into the yellow jerry can. Too bad the can is often filthy inside, rendering the entire purification process useless.

Several members live in huts made of mud bricks with rooftops made of thatched spear grass.

Nancy- proud of her work! The market of this product is huge and is very lucrative. Nancy sells directly to distributers who package it in small baggies, much like kids’ juice bags. These baggies litter the ground pretty much everywhere.

A member’s house in Lira.

A member’s small business selling beans by the roadway.

Cows rule! I was told that cows are often left to their own devices and can almost always make it back to their “home” on their own. These cosmopolitan cows have a diet of grass, chapatti (flat bread), and corn.

The yeast-water-sugar mixture is left to ferment and then boiled in the large oil drum. The drum is heated to high temperatures using large logs for an entire day. This is risky work, as many people are burned whilst distilling as the drum sometimes explodes due to the temperatures and overuse of the drum.

The final step in the process sees tiny droplets of alcohol pass through cotton filter and then into the jerry can. The sales of the “waraji” help the savings group increase their collective savings, and in turn, purchases livestock, sewing machines, and tools. These purchases then lead to larger savings. A virtuous circle begins from an “unvirtuous” source.

PHOTO ESSAY: How to eat dried ants!

A local delicacy and definitely an acquired taste, dried white ants pack a powerful protein punch! I had the pleasure of witnessing the bug buffet as it was being prepared. Bon appétit!

First, Walaria tosses the ants onto a concrete slab to let them dry in the sun. After several tosses, the wings fall off. (Yes, that mass of brown on the cement is actually thousands of ants.)

 

 

 

The ants are left for several hours in the sun to dry.

 

 

 

See that mound? It’s actually an ant hill measuring roughly four feet high. At dawn or in the evening, a villager will dig a small hole into the side of the hill, calling the ants to defend their territory. Thousands of winged ants will come pouring out of the hole in a vain attempt to attack the intruder, only to be swept into a net placed shrewdly at the opening.

 

 

 

 

With each toss, more and more white ant wings fall, littering the ground like cherry blossoms in the late spring.

 

 

 

 

What a smile! (And what large hands!!!)

 

Once dried, the ants are fried in oil, and then heavily salted.

 

 

 

 

Perfect snack for the super bowl.

 

 

 

 

 The "white" ants get their name from their white wings. Once roasted, they turn golden brown.

 

Bernardo, my colleague, told me the ants taste like fried salmon skin.

 

 

 

The after-eating-ants face! When I was asked if I wanted to try the fried ants, I did not hesitate to say absolutely not!

UTILITY

The sun slowly begins to break through the clouds this June morning after a night of heavy rain. Despite the sauna-like humidity, Acup Jakayo wears a down-filled ski jacket complete with hood. Sitting upright under a lush mango tree, Acup is holding bouquets of wild flowers in his hands; he is a traditional healer and leader of the entire Lango region of Uganda. He is also a member of the LADAF, the Lango Districts Aged Foundation. Agile and strong, 86 year-old Acup drives his bicycle several kilometers daily to share remedies and recipes with other healers at the LADAF grounds situated just outside Lira town. Today, Acup is joined by Apio Walaria and other healers.

Acup Jakayo displays some wild herbs collected from the LADAF grounds.

The LADAF is a community savings group made up men and women over 60. As a collective, the LADAF generates income through a variety of forms, but mostly from farming rice, corn, beans, cassava, and tropical fruit, as well as raising poultry and goats, all sold at nearby markets. Each week, the group saves between 60,000-100,000 Ugandan shillings, or around US$25-$41. The entrepreneurial spirit is strong, as members also fry bread and roast white ants to sell to members at meetings, and are in the process of developing fish farming on the 200+ reservoirs located on the LADAF grounds spread throughout northern Uganda. They also take in young girls left orphans from the LRA conflict to provide life lessons such as teaching them how to sew.

Acup says that from 1958 to 2012, he has healed exactly 936,590 people, and he is proud to say he has records of everyone he has helped. Through interpreters Oming Isaac and Ajok Serah Keryn, both members of the MAPLE Lira team, Acup says that more people are seeking traditional medicine as an alternative to western medicine for many reasons.

Acup sits along side some pills and powders made from local plants.

“When you have the pot belly stomach, I will just give you some medicine and that’s it,” Acup says, poking his abdomen. “If you go to the hospital, they will remove the water that has collected in your stomach, but soon after removing it, the water will come back and become worse. If you take this medicine, you just take it and everything will be okay. But at the hospital, often you will have to suffer there, and sometimes the doctor will not be there.”

Doctors are not always available in this remote region of Uganda; short staffed in the operating room and overcrowded in the waiting room. With many illnesses, time is of the essence, so if a patient cannot see a doctor, they go to Acup.

 “With the local medicine, the effect is immediate,” Acup says. “If you have a headache, you take the medicine, and there and then the headache goes. There are certain sicknesses that modern medicine cannot heal, that the local medicine can heal.”

Acup with Apio Walaria, another traditional healer. 

Apio Walaria has been a healer for 20 years. Apio says she wanted to be a healer since her childhood. For Apio, healing has truly been a spiritual calling, receiving direction in the form of her dreams.

“I was praying and felt that this is what I ought to be doing,” Apio says. “When I was sleeping, the messages came to me in my dreams; messages that told me directly which plants, even what part of the plant, would help to treat a specific illness.”

Apio says she can heal swollen legs within a day and can cure many eye problems. With a mischievous look in her eye, she says that she can even make a paste men can use to make beautiful women fall in love with them.  Acup says that he has healed many illnesses, from snake bites to bloated stomachs to epilepsy.

Abandoned water purifying buildings originally built by the British, and partially destroyed during the LRA insurgency, serve as the meeting place for the traditional healers. There are 28 healers that regularly meet at the LADAF grounds. To ensure that the knowledge is passed on to the next generation, Acup is working with several young people, and is passing on the tradition of healing to three of his 15 children.  They still come to him when help is needed for a particular case.

Abandoned water purifying buildings originally built by the British, and partially destroyed during the LRA insurgency, serve as the meeting place for the traditional healers.

Apio and Acup agree to lead me through the LADAF grounds, through to what looks like beautiful weeds. We meander through the corn fields and fish ponds and stop at a full, low bush with light purple and pink flowers. Apio bends over, takes a branch and picks three deep green berries in her hand. This is “langtana camal” and when made into a tea, it is used to treat stomach ulcers.

Apio and another healer stand in front of a bush of "langtana camal". When made into a tea, this herb can treat stomach ulcers.

Often the plants have no English name, such as “abiratino”, a low bush with a pungent odour of mint used to treat dandruff; and “kodo o kodo”, a tree with fern-like leaves whose fuzzy green fruit and roots are used to treat ear infections. Atulatar (white flower), used in combination with six other plants, is used to treat epilepsy. Apio says it’s very effective.  

Two healers stand in front of "kodo o kodo", a plant used to treat ear infections. 

Another important reason many Ugandans seek traditional healing is that they are also unable to pay the higher fees associated with modern medicine. For Apio and Acup, demand is greater than the supply. Apio is unable to find or cultivate enough herbs to satisfy the numerous clients that come to her seeking intervention.

Another healer with two hands full of "abora" just picked out of a nearby ditch. The berries are rich in iron.

 “The cost of going to the hospital was 60,000 (Ugandan shillings),” Apio says. “But you could come to have traditional healing for 5,000 (Ugandan shillings). This saves money and time. We wanted to be organized, and we wanted to work with MAPLE.”

MAPLE has helped the traditional healers organize themselves by identifying market opportunities and by organizing weekly meetings where the ill can come to seek treatment, often at the LADAF grounds. This business organization helps Apio better predict the demand for her services each week, and has helped the group come together to set prices for the remedies. This way, each of the healers can make more money and are able to see more people. Most importantly, the residents of Lira are able to seek treatment that is regulated, effective, and is much cheaper than going to the town hospital.

Members of the LADAF sit in the shade under a mango tree.

Akullu Betty, Senior Advisor to MAPLE Lira, says that the LADAF has progressed well since MAPLE started working with them in 2009.

“When you observe the project site there is a lot of improvements in their farming activities and they have a piece of land under expansion for cultivation,” Akullu says. “They have also incorporated bee keeping as a project, and they have vocational training for school drop outs. This has been one of the biggest improvements that MAPLE has made, through empowerment through knowledge. Knowledge is power and knowledge is wealth at the same time.”

Akullu says that training must come before money or donations.

“To fight the dependency syndrome, you need to open up the mind of the person to think in a broader way,” Akullu says. “Development is always in stages. Where you have given the person knowledge, you have a better chance of that the project which he or she undertakes is sustainable.

“We have members that we have rehabilitated from the streets; they used to go around begging as a result of the insurgency. Now, they are available to think bigger and they are able to put their knowledge into practice. This is where they are now.”

Here I am picking "abiratino" along side two healers.

Akullu says that psychology is the core issue for development at the moment.

“During the insurgency, we many had many NGOs focusing on distributing food items, basic needs like blankets and sheets, and shelter,” Akullu points out. “But the people in the camps were not trained. MAPLE focuses on business skills training and mentorship, there are very many community members that have benefitted from MAPLE, without MAPLE giving them money. Right now I can say that the demand for MAPLE’s services is very high.

 “In the long run, I am sure that MAPLE will become a model organization where by very many people will be involved in public work, where others will be able to see what works and learn from the successes.”