Tuesday, 14 April 2015

Farming and the license to dream (notes from the CBA9 conference)

I am in Africa. After listening to stories of my mother catching a colourful fish in the River Kafue and of my grandfather driving from Nairobi to Lusaka in the 70s, it is finally my chance to see this inspiring, beautiful, and complex continent.

I am in Nairobi at the 9th International Conference on Community- Based Adaptation (CBA9) - a mammoth conference on community-based adaptation (CBA). There are close to 400 delegates attending and though it is easy to feel lost, I enjoy meeting old friends and making new ones. As part of the conference, field trips were organised within Kenya to critically analyse and learn from CBA initiatives within the country. I find myself off to Kajiado County with a bunch of wonderful, inspiring group of researchers and practitioners from 16 (!) countries.

CBA participants on a field trip to Kajiado County.
Kajiado is far removed from Nairobi's green landscape. Expanses of scrubland. An occasional dik dik or impala scampering across. Short spreading acacia providing the only shade against the unforgiving sun. Six feet high termite hills break the monotony of the flatland. The flash of colour from a Masai herdman's clothes makes a fleeting appearance.

Among the community initiatives we visited, there is the Emaiawata Horticultural Farm run by a Masai women's group. Through a translator, we learn that the farm was set up a year ago and sources water from a river 70 km away! This water is stored in a man-made pond and than used to irrigate the horticultural farm through drip irrigation. So far, the women have harvested tomatoes and spinach. Interestingly, the women pay men in their community to work on the farm and so, provide employment (and food) for their husbands!
My dream is to see this farm producing vegetables and fodder. We can later expand the pond and put fish in it. ~ Head of Emaiawata Women's Group

As the women narrated difficulties they faced in securing community land to farm on and learning how to use drip irrigation, the story echoed my fieldwork in India. In a similarly semi-arid stretch in Rajasthan, I had spoken to men about their drip irrigation woes (how salts from the brackish water clog the nozzles, how the hot sun makes plastic pipes brittle).

In Kajiado, it was apparent that the horticultural farm was a source of pride for the women. They worked on it, reaped harvest, and earned some money. It gave them some autonomy and a reason to dream. Whether it was a community-based adaptation initiative or not, is questionable. Without an explicit understanding of current climate variability and future changes and their impacts, I was not convinced that this project could not be defined as an adaptative process. However, it potentially begins to challenge current gendered roles, increases livelihood options and thus builds local adaptive capacity. To me, that is a start.