Foundation for Community Development

“At first everybody was astonished, how could such a big tree fall down?”

We’re in the small village of Munhinoa, in central Mozambique, about 60km from the nearest city, Chimoio. The community leader, Guilherne Samussone, is telling us about a special tree.

“When Cyclone Favio passed through here [in February 2007], it was so strong that this big tree was pushed to the ground … most of its roots were out the ground and it lay flat across the road. But then slowly, bit by bit, the tree straightened. Children walking to school would see it and say ‘What’s going on? The tree is moving!’”

On the third day, the tree was perfectly erect, and new branches soon began to sprout. The traditional leaders saw the incident of the tree being blown over and then recovering and growing even stronger than before as an indication that the spirits were not happy, and a ceremony was held to appease the ancestors. “It was a sign that people are not respecting the tradition or the rules,” says Samussone.

Since gaining its independence in 1975, Mozambique has been ravaged by civil war, floods and epidemics such as HIV AIDS. Despite impressive economic growth over the past 10 years (average 8% GDP growth per year), three-quarters of the population lives on less than $2 a day and the United Nations Children’s Fund estimates that 1.6-million children are orphaned and 4-million are considered vulnerable (a child who has no or restricted access to basic needs).

But for Foundation for Community Development (FDC) programmes manager Eduarda Cipriano, numbers aren’t as meaningful a barometer of Mozambique’s development as children are. “Look into the children’s eyes,” she says. “Children’s eyes should glitter, but their eyes are grown-up people’s eyes; tired eyes, they’ve seen too much.”

The FDC is a civic organisation founded by Graça Machel, former Mozambican First Lady and now the wife of former South African president Nelson Mandela. The FDC, with help from 46664 and other funders, is empowering communities to uplift themselves and their children through a skills development programme called Tecendo a Vida (Weaving Life).

Munhinoa, and the story of the tree, has come late in the day. Earlier, 46664 and FDC representatives travelled deep into the rural northern district of Nhaurombe, navigating almost impassable roads eroded by torrential rain.

Project manager José Almeida is driving our 4x4, hooting as we pass a shaky bicycle overladen with bananas, swerving in and off the road. “They have plenty food, but the problem is the diet. You have the maize, but you join the maize with what?” he notes.

At the first school we visit, a small shack amid acres of ripening maize and bananas, some children are stunted and sickly, and exhibit signs of malnutrition.

Since the Weaving Life project, Mbatilamukene (the project implementation agency), started in the area in August, Almeida and his team of field workers have been encouraging communities to start vegetable gardens to diversify their diets. Almeida, who studied agronomy in Maputo, says food security is the key to further development. “When the stomach is full, you can discuss other things,” he points out.

But a healthy diet is only the first step. Hygiene is an important component, too, adds Almeida, noting that there were few toilets in the area. “This is a mountain area; when the rains come, everything goes to the rivers. And people go to the rivers to get water to drink, or for cooking food, and [this results in] cholera and other diseases.”

The answer, he says, was to convince communities to build pit latrines – a simple hole in the ground, surrounded by thatch for privacy. Field workers first looked for the opinion leaders in the community and explained to them why the latrines were necessary. “When you teach this guy to build latrines ... it’s easy for him to tell the neighbours, to tell the brothers, this is good,” says Almeida. “About 600 families now have these latrines.”

There’s very little direct funding to communities, but constant support from Mbatilamukene field workers on the ground to help them solve development problems. “People say they’re waiting for government to do this. I say, ‘Brother, sister, we must change this. Development is in your hands, why are you waiting for other people to come here?’” says Almeida.

We travel about 8km along rutted roads to Nharicoa, another small village. There we sit with community members under a large tree, the women and children sitting on one side, the men on the other side. A man complains to Almeida about the lack of traders in the area. Tons of maize, but nobody to sell it to. The few traders who do navigate the treacherous roads have a monopoly advantage, asking for prices way below market rates.

Almeida tells the village folk to fix their road, so that more traders will come to their area. “You can fix the road,” he says, by wedging rocks and branches into the ruts and potholes. “If [the trader] sees the road, he’ll bring the transport.”

He adds that community members must find ways to store the food in a co-operative warehouse and agree on a pricing structure with other farmers in the area. “We make it exclusive. Nobody comes here to tell [you] what the price is,” Almeida exhorts.

“What most Mozambicans were used to was ‘giving projects’,” says Ruy Santos, Weaving Life programme manager, referring to aid programmes that donated goods such as food and school materials but did little in terms of sustainability. “Now we’re giving the community back its power.”

Santos says the breakdown in community structures began during the country’s civil war that ensued soon after independence, in 1977, and raged until 1992. “During the war they couldn’t go to the fields. The communities got used to the World Bank food programmes and other NGOs giving [support],” he says.

It’s a view shared by Cipriano, who says Mozambicans need to regain their ability to take care of themselves. “Ma Machel says we are poor, but we are not beggars.”

Cipriano points out that traditional aid models “de-responsibilitise people”. She notes that when agencies introduce HIV prevention initiatives, the locals ask for money to promote and conduct programmes. “I ask, ‘Do you get paid to teach your child not to play with hot water? Hot water is as dangerous as HIV AIDS, or even more.’

“With most NGOs, HIV AIDS is treated like an emergency, like floods or wars,” she says. The NGOs act fast and want fast results. [But] HIV AIDS is not an emergency. With HIV it takes time to change. … The process is long and important, not just the results.”

Cipriano notes that according to a situational analysis study conducted in 2005, 98% of orphans and vulnerable children in Mozambique live with their extended families. That means field workers have to go into homes to reach the children, and targeting specific children i.e. those orphaned by HIV AIDS is impossible. “You can’t say these two children [can benefit from funding], but not these five children.”

“In the area of HIV AIDS we strengthen the community …We don’t take the child on his/her own,” she adds.

And for Cipriano, the process should start at a social level, where communities can learn to rely on themselves again and on the indigenous structures that served them for centuries, along with more recently acquired knowledge of modern agriculture and commerce.

“[For years] we came with the hardware first, but not with the software,” she says, tapping on her head. “We’re not making the same mistake again.”

46664 communications and PR manager Chantal Cuddumbey says the project bears a strong resemblance to the Goelama Project that 46664 supports in the Free State [link]. “I think aid agencies now realise that because of the pervasive nature of HIV AIDS, communities need to be empowered to tackle their underlying social problems before HIV infection rates can be reduced,” says Cuddumbey. “It really is in their hands to do so.”

The sun is setting in Munhinoa, the community where last year a tree miraculously rose to its feet, a calling to the villagers to return to their roots, and to a time when governance was in the hands of the community. The village banquet hosted to honour the FDC and 46664’s visit is coming to a close, after a rousing call to action from President Samussone. A teenage boy reads out a list of achievements since the FDC first visited the area: 75 more children have been placed in school, 23 households have benefited from the savings scheme, the community has latrines and the football side has won the local league, with scarcely a dollar spent.

It’s early days, but one gets the sense that the deep roots in this small Mozambican village will sustain the community well into the future.

For more information please see: http://www.fdc.org.mz