Aileen in Zambia

I am presently in Zambia, thanks to the Simon Cumbers Media fund, to explore a number of issues relating to food security. 

It took me twenty five hours to get here from Donegal. I arrived at dawn, at Lusaka airport, as a perfectly formed blood-red sun was slow rising over the terminal building The sight of it filled me with delight. Outside the terminal building, a piece of paper with my name on it, held high above a man’s head, filled me with relief. His name was Musaka. He was waiting for me to take me to Chisamba, one of the largest commercial farming districts of Zambia.

Soon we were bumping along the Ngwerere dirt track.  Through orange dust and tired eyes I tried to focus on my surroundings. Vast areas of unused land lay out before me. Every now and then small clusters of thatched huts appeared in the middle of nowhere. Nearby, banana and paw- paw trees bear fruit and dark green patches on the ground grow vegetables such as cabbage, rape and tomatoes. The huts and small holdings are scattered throughout the vast landscape for miles and miles, a sign of life but scarce infrastructure.

It isn’t until we hit the commercial farming districts, which is predominately run by white farmers, most of European extraction, that golden wheat stretches out in abundance as far as the eye can see.

It is this golden wheat and Zambia’s vast tracks of arable land, abundant water and topography that has drawn me back to report on the issues that impact on Zambia’s food security.

Musaka maneuvers out onto the Great North road which is the main road between the capital and the Northern Copperbelt.  Corn and wheat mature for miles around under a number of central irrigation pivots rotating and hissing in the fields. 

The heat stifles me and I long for a cool shower as I gaze at the golden fields of wheat. Musaka beeps his horn frantically. Alarmed I look up ahead. I fear there is something wrong but everything seems to be in order. A huge farm truck with ZAMBEEF written on the side of it is approaching us.

Musaka continues to wave wildly and honk the horn. The truck passes us. The driver is waving frantically at Musaka. Musaka laughs out loud and turns his head towards me. "My brother," he says. 

Thank god for that I think. I nod, letting him know I understand and relax back into my seat again. 

Family and greetings are very important to the Zambian people. So is employment. So is food security. Musaka and his brother are lucky. They have employment made possible by commercial farming. There are also acres and acres of food production made possible by commercial farming.

Gazing at the cultivated farmland all around me I can’t help but think of the vast amount of unused land I also gazed at in the last 50k. Is the answer to food security right under our noses and, and if so, what are the issues preventing Zambia to potentially becoming a self-sustainable breadbasket.