Likoma's Rocky Road to Food Security

AGRICULTURE IS ALMOST NONEXISTENT ON THE ISLAND

In October 2012, about two million Malawians were in dire need of food assistance. But before the extent of the situation was beyond a doubt to the Malawi Vulnerability Assessment Committee (Mvac), the absence of MV Ilala was already subjecting Likoma and Chizumulu islands to what locals call a food crisis like no other in recent history.

MAIZE DESTINED FOR LIKOMA

The situation confirmed Gladys Mandala’s worst fears: No one is more prone to the effects of climate change in the country—whose economy is dependent on rain-fed agriculture—than the islands’ population of 10 433 which pays a steep price every time the mainland is hit by draughts or floods.

“Likoma is vulnerable to rising prices of foodstuffs not because it totally depends on the situation in Nkhata Bay and beyond. When maize is scare on the other side of the lake, prices of the commodity suddenly double, putting untold pressure on family income and livelihood,” said the resident of Makulawe Village.

A breadwinner of her six children, Mandala sells fish, cassava, tomatoes and potatoes to improve the wellbeing of her family.

MANDALA WITH HER DEPENDENTS

She said the islanders are chronically victims of hunger not because they prefer fishing to farming, but land is limited, sandy and breached.

Statistics from Likoma District Agricultural Office—which still reports to its counterpart in Nkhata Bay 14 years after former president Bakili Muluzi proclaimed the two islands a stand-alone district on November 5 1999—show that the district has 2 454 farming families, of which 1 151 are female-headed such as Mandala’s.

According to agricultural statistical clerk Francis Sauli, the average landholding size per family stands at 0.02 hectare per family against a national average of one (1.0) hectare per household. 

Last year, the rains were late and erratic. Many planted around November and suffered a 17-day dry spell the following month.

Hinting at a lean period, Likoma is sparsely dotted with cassava and maize fields, a majority of them restricted plots surrounding homes.

“A few Likoma residents now grow maize. Nearly 10 years ago, almost all of them opposed it. To them, the cobs were only good while green. They often cultivated just enough for roasting and boiling,” said Sauli.

According to traditional leaders, the islanders have grown up subsisting on cassava but were forced to switch to maize about five years ago when the drought-resistant root crop was ravaged by mille bugs, known as ntchembere zandonda or kodiko among locals.

As the kodiko outbreak rages on, even maize cropping is struggling to turn around the islands’ agriculture into viable business.

Most households are trapped in a vicious cycle of hunger and poverty because they feel the sandy soil is so infertile that some locals say they find fishing more profitable than toiling in futility.

SOILS ONLY GOOD FOR SUN-BAKED BRICKS

The sandy soils have also informed the island’s architecture, with most houses made of sun-baked bricks due to the realisation that burning the building blocks would further weaken them.

A few houses—especially those belonging to the Anglican Church, district
council and well-to-do locals—are made of carved stones.

Exceptions in terms of soil fertility include Chiponde, Mwasi, Mbungo, Simani, Madimba, Chamba and Ulisa which have redeemed the islands from depending on Mozambique and Nkhata Bay for vegetables.

The influence of natural factors and cultural preferences has left the islands’ population with widespread dependence on platefuls and basketfuls of foodstuffs from the mainland that were selling at as high as K3 000 per 20kg pail of maize at a time the same quantity was worth K1 500 overland.

Underlining the island’s vulnerability to effects of climate change on the rest of the country, the price of the pail tripled to K4 500 when the Ilala stopped sailing on June 30 last year.

The interruption of the island’s most trusted ship paved the way for the vessel to undergo a major maintenance since the change of engine in 1994.

LOCALS PREFER FISHING TO FARMING

But it also paved the way for a flurry of problems, including the rising cost of living.
Seven months ago, when MVAC and the Famine Early Warning Systems Network (Fewsnet) announced that about two million people would need relief food items until March this year, a 50kg bag of maize was selling at K7 000.

High maize prices put food-insecure households at risk, warned Fewsnet in its October report.

Transport problems continued to exert pressure on the livelihood of Likoma beyond the harvest period in March since they were relying on exorbitant boats to ship their food supplies from the mainland.

Even with the restoration of Ilala, the boats are characterised by islanders clutching bags of maize, potatoes, beans and other foodstuffs.

To survive, the island witnessed a boom of farm produce vendors, including locals, who seized the business line to cash in on rising demand and lowering supply as well as to preserve their income—an insurance of some sort.
 

Alleluia Machira, who has become a poster face of how spells without Ilala endanger lives on the island, was forced to offload bags of maize into the lake to save lives when a privately owned boat in which she was travelling almost capsized due to strong mwera winds.

She reckons the period of perilous boat trips left the worst hit population on the thin line between life and death, saying: “Even after the scare in March, we continued to travel by boats because hunger kills.”

Maize vendor Madalitso Nyirenda was in the ill-fated boat along with Machira.  He saw the return of Ilala push down the cost of a 20kg pail that costs between K1000 and K1 500 at the mainland from K3 000 to K2 000 just in May.

“Like all foodstuffs, maize business is lucrative; the profits are enormous since most of the residents hardly farm,” said Nyirenda.

Locals lament that the likes of Nyirenda tend to profit on their desperation, but Nyirenda says there is a humanitarian side that makes their business relevant to the cut-away population.

LIKOMA: A GOLDMINE FOR MAIZE VENDORS

“We bring food closer to those who cannot afford to travel to Nkhata Bay, Mzuzu, Mzimba, Kasungu and other districts where we source it. By the way, it costs K500 to ferry a 50kg bag from the mainland to Likoma by boat,” argues the small-scale trader from Namitete on the boundary of Mchinji and Lilongwe.

Like scores of traders and customers, he expects the prices of food material to further drop as the ship’s return has already eased transportation hiccups.

The wave of hope among the vulnerable population is telling, for they rarely keep chicken, goats, cow and other livestock for food or for sale in times of need.

The island’s animal husbandry, pastures and water resources are threatened by a stark lack of trees due to a wave of deforestation locals attribute to rapid population at a time it was harbouring refugees escaping Mozambique’s civil war in the 1980s.

The island now imports firewood from Nkhata Bay and Mozambique.