Home time

A few of the smiley faces from home

 

Back home

I have been home in the UK for the last few days, only a short visit, back to attend the funeral of a good friend, huge Watford and general football fan, and my brother-in-law; rest in peace Andrew, you will be greatly missed. Coming back under such circumstances has been a strange mixture of sadness but also enjoyment in catching up with family and a few friends. It has been lovely to see them especially some of the kids who have grown and changed much since I last saw them over 18 months ago; apologies to others who I did not have time to fit in. But due to the circumstances much of the time has been tinged with sadness. 

Unexpectedly coming back has been interesting, maybe things have not obviously changed since I left in Feb 2010 but the contrast between home and Zambia is stark. The differences are many but here are a few thoughts: the gadgets which everyone seems to have at least one of; the volume of people and also the number of cars; the busyness of the country (all rush, rush – got to get somewhere); smooth roads without large, deep potholes; the choice in the shops from food to shoes; spending money is far too easy (given the aforementioned choice); the grey skies in Somerset; people can be friendly, just a different style to Zambians . . .

The end game

For now office move number 4 is a dull space with a couple of desks but imagine . . . in a month’s time (or probably two) it will be an HIV and AIDS Resource Centre with computers, books, magazines, IEC materials, and meeting and reading space. Well that is the plan! I was admittedly a bit grumpy to pack up and shift again but bit by bit (pole pole - slowly, slowly - as they say on Zanzibar) we are heading in the right direction. Another to be continued . . .

Kitchen party

Little by little I am slowing experiencing different bits of Zambia culture, though one thing that I did not expect to see or attend is a kitchen party which normally is a female only event. Luckily for me a friend asked if I would take some photos at her sister’s kitchen party so I was let in. We don’t really have an equivalent to the kitchen party back home and comparing it to a hen party would be misleading. The party I attended was women only but included friends, family, future family for the bride to be and children; all dressed in colourful outfits, some with matching headgear and many with new hairstyles. The guests bring presents to furnish the bride’s kitchen to get her ready for married life, which on this occasion included pots, pans, plates, cutlery, electrical items and a kitchen dresser for storing everything. Some parties where the friends and family have more money include giving cookers and fridges as presents.

Aside from the presents, culturally the kitchen party was fascinating to me because of how the bride has to behave. She cannot show any emotions, nor speak, during the party and spends the whole time staring, stony faced at her own feet. Her demeanour resembled that of a naughty school girl sent to wait outside the headmaster’s office. The bride was led into the party under cover of a chitenge, which only the groom is permitted to remove. Therefore, she had to sit covered, awaiting his arrival and on Saturday this waiting lasted around 45 minutes. He came, flowers in hand, to unveil his bride to be. They both then proceeded to hand out a few thank you presents to some of guests before the groom departed. After this came the food, speeches, readings and dancing. Each of the guests took their turn to hand over their presents and whisper some advice to the bride. During this process the bride barely moved and then only got up to be taken to inspect the larger presents like the kitchen dresser. Finally at the end of the party with the guests clustering around her for photos was the bride allowed to smile.

Let's make some noise

It did not take long for the noise to start. Mazabuka, probably like every other town across Zambia, now has campaign vehicles being driven around daily blaring out loud music and party messages with supporters singing, dancing and chanting their own particular slogans. The parties compete with each other to see who can make the most noise, get out the largest number of supporters and also cause the most amount of disruption on the roads by slowing down or often stopping traffic. The two banners in the picture have been part of a game of cat and mouse pitched on the roundabout. At one point the red banner (one of the opposition parties) was positioned above the blue banner (depicting the President and the party in government). This was deemed to be offensive and undermining to the President so the blue one had to move – side by side being the diplomatic alternative. Otherwise Mazabuka has been fairly quiet so far and has not experienced any of small scale fighting and bickering that has occurred in some other towns. The weather is hotting up and so too are the politicians and their parties.

Lazying around in Siavonga

After a busy week it felt good to escape Maz and do very little over the weekend. We barely moved from a friend’s house in Siavonga, enjoying the warm weather and her garden that has a lovely view looking out over Lake Kariba. There was plenty of cooking, eating, drinking, reading, watching movies and playing silly but amusing board games; all very relaxing. On the way home we became tourists briefly by visiting an impressive Baobab tree. It is called the Ngombe Illede which translates from Tonga as 'the cow that is lying down'. Despite falling down the tree continued to grow, hence its name, though with all its branches it looked more like a huge stag to me. The tree has a long history of acting as a trading centre for items like beads, clay pots, copper, ivory and salt, as well as supposedly slaves.

Plans, plans, plans

To be honest I am somewhat circumspect about the value of strategic planning. Whilst there is definitely a need to think and plan strategically my doubts are in our apparent requirement to produce an ‘all singing, all dancing’ Strategic Plan, to be quickly followed by an Operational Plan and then by an M&E Plan; lots of plans! All the efforts and resources for the Mazabuka DATF (or any other DATF in Zambia for that matter) needed to do this planning are considerable, yet what will happen at the end of the process? Will the documents sit on a shelf and only be casually referred to over the next few years or when a funder passes by? Will the plans be so complex and detailed that they bear little relation to the resources available i.e. human = 1 person (my boss) and money = little and inconsistent? Will stakeholders buy into the plans given that they act and are funded independently of the DATF?

These were some of the questions buzzing around in my head as we began a two day strategic planning workshop where we had brought together a group of 30 of our stakeholders to discuss the HIV and AIDS issues affecting the district, and then to prioritise them (the tough bit). Once we got going (after the usual couple of hours late start) the debates, contributions and discussions were healthy and valuable. We went through the DATF vision and mission, the HIV and AIDS problems faced by the district, the responses so far by stakeholders, the weaknesses and gaps, and therefore the key issues that the district should focus on. We ran out of time at the end of the two days but got through most of the things that we had planned for. For now the task is to turn all of the notes and contributions into a draft Strategic Plan. So I wonder who will be doing that and when? To be continued . . .