The gated community

I have been silent for a couple of weeks, and it is time to reconnect.  A visit to Harare upset my writing schedule.  Besides attending a regional meeting of ACT Alliance, I had the chance to meet up with my old colleague from DanChurch Aid, Christian Baleslev Olesen, who is now representing the organisation in Zimbabwe.  While waiting for our flight back to Lilongwe, he invited us for a walk in a wildlife park.  While the path was taking a sharp turn to the left, we suddenly realised that the path was already occupied by another living creature:

A python of 2 1/2 - 3 meters blocked the path.  It did no harm to anybody, and after having secured the documentation above we continued our pleasant walk,... although with a slightly heightened alert.


In my previous blog I visited the entrepreneurs behind the wall of my residence.  This time I will take you even closer.  Now is the time for the Jacaranda trees to bloom on bare branches.  As I walk outside my gate I get the full view of a flower-covered tree.  This is perhaps what catches your eyes when you look at the photo below?

Look a bit lower in the picture and you see the view of "my street", a street with plenty of potholes... and walls and gates.

Lilongwe is a relatively safe city compared to other African capitals.  Walls and gates are nevertheless a conspicuous feature in residential areas.  Why would we wall ourselves in, if the environment is rather safe?  Perhaps the city is not viewed as totally safe after all?

My watchman and his colleagues are on duty 24/7,...and the wall is topped with electric wires!  This is not enough.  Behind the walls the house is also fortified with steel-meshes that are being locked at night.

Are we completely paranoid, or are there good reasons for all these security measures?  I honestly believe the level of precautionary measures reflects a slight paranoia.  At the same time I recall my visit behind the wall where I encountered makeshift workshops and shops, and dusty roads leading into more or less shacks serving as homes.  Malawi's poverty is right on my doorstep, and my luxury life inside the wall (although fairly moderate according to Norwegian standards) is obviously a huge contrast to the struggle for life that is the reality behind my wall. Desperation may lead to actions of crime that could descend on us behind the walls. As individuals we cannot change the social injustice, and therefore physical measures are put in place to protect against repercussions of the injustice.

The contrast between the have's and the have not's is enormous in Malawi, as in many African countries.  My money can protect me from poverty, by closing it out behind my wall, and my money can provide almost anything in the shops.  Commodities are available... if you have enough money to spend.  I can therefore live a comfortable life in my gated community!

My entrepreneurial neighbours

While sitting outside reading today's Saturday paper I kept noticing a sound from behind the wall that caught my attention.  Was it a cutting torch that was at work?  It struck me that I had not really explored life behind our wall, and decided to go for an exploratory walk.

As I reached around the block and recognized our water tank... this time behind the wall... the origin of the sound appeared.  It was indeed a cutting torch at work, and the man who handled the tool was apparently an artist working in steel.  Kondwani, as I learnt to be his name, was surrounded by a welding machine, hammers and cutting machines.  Two steel birds were emerging from the iron sheets and pipes that artistically were formed into tails, wings, legs and bodies.  On one side some finished birds and a cheetah were on display.

In my curiosity I asked him where he had learned his trade.  He narrated that his basic skills had been obtained at a technical school in Blantyre.  Welding, cutting and body work formed the starting point. While he tried his luck as a car mechanics for a while, his dream was to utilize his creative abilities.  He was digging deep into his pockets and went to Zimbabwe to learn sculpturing.  Jobs were not to be found in which he could use his new-won skills, and he had to start his own business.  Together with his brother he bought basic tools and started producing sculptures and receiving cars for repair along the roadside. Gradually business picked up, and now they form a group of four who work together.  They built a shed as a basic workshop, and bought a container as a store.

"So, who buy your birds and animals?" I asked.  "People like you!" he replied with a hopeful smile. Perhaps another day...?

Not far from the makeshift workshop I stumbled upon a man who apparently was making shoes under a iron sheet covered structure, also along the dusty roadside.  Right behind him three-four men were busy repairing bicycles.

In my afternoon walk just behind the wall of our house I had obviously encountered entrepreneurs who made a living based on their acquired skills,  but under extremely basic conditions.  Steven, as my shoemaker called himself, had no formal training.  He was raised as a neighbour to a shoe factory, and used his eyes and hands wisely as he tried in his own ways to copy what otherwise machines were shaping out of the hide.  With leftover hide from the factory he developed his craft and started his business.


The shoe on display was my size.  It lacked soles, but I could easily envisage the pair as slippers, ... and they are on my feet as I write this small piece.