January 3, 2007
Nature calls
Summer rains have begun at last—later than expected, but
still we thank God. People can now plant their staple crop of
white maize. Every day we see them carrying hoes, working the
fields. Here, rain falls from November to March only. Last year
was the first really good rainy season of this decade. Zambia
and Malawi grew enough to feed their people. So far, predictions
for 2007 have been mixed.
Although it’s good news to farmers, rain spells trouble
for residents of crowded urban compounds. Roads turn into mud,
potholes to lakes. Children drown within sight of their houses
after slipping into deep, miry puddles. Mosquitoes breed and invade
during the night. (Most of the windows lack fly screen.) Pit latrines
can fill and overflow. Cholera develops. It’s a mess.
Meanwhile, out in the wild park lands, animals are beginning
to stir. The grass is freshening. Antelopes, zebra, and wildebeest
are mating. Large cats go on the prowl. However, for tourists
it’s not all that great. Certain safari camps close for
the season. Why? (1) They have to take you much farther into the
bush, instead of waiting by a nice water hole. (2) Their vehicles
get stuck in the mud. (3) Even if they manage to find animals,
you can’t always see them because of the tall grass.
So what would be the ideal time to see animals? If that is your
purpose, try September or October. During our hot spell at the
end of dry season the grass is all withered, which means good
visibility. Plus, the animals are thirsty; they have to stay near
water. But since water holes have mostly vanished, they migrate
instead toward the rivers. Certain tour operators forsake their
Land Rovers and put clients on motorboats to get a close-up look.
Still, there are no guarantees on viewing. Witness Ted’s
recent experience.
It was October 18. We were taking a rest by the long, deep lake
that forms Malawi’s eastern border. Sue wanted to read,
but Ted wanted to walk, so he signed up for a day hike through
Nkhotakota Reserve. Call him brave or call him foolish: venturing
out on foot during the heat. But he and a guide set off at 6:30
to go find elephants and more.
Yet they found none.
Ruins of a government house within the wildlife preserve, destroyed
by poachers.
What they did find, besides a few smoldering fires set by poachers
trying to concentrate their prey, was one lonely bushbuck, a crocodile,
and a fish eagle. Not much for eight hours of walking.
Why such a sorry result?
The answer lies as near as the next village and as far as India
and Japan. Poachers are destroying African wildlife and of course,
in the long run, their own way of life.
Officially, the market for ivory has been closed and regulated
for quite some time. International conservation treaties are in
effect. Still, there is a thriving black market. Poachers shoot
elephants, cut away the tusks, and carry them by night to their
trucks. If they feel sufficiently safe, they then cut up the meat
and hang it in the bush on drying racks. After several days it
will go to a village where it might fetch less than 50 dollars.
Still, it provides an important source of protein for residents
of poor rural districts.
Bush meat also serves as a cultural icon, sort of a status symbol
or a guilty pleasure, for wealthy city dwellers.
But food consumption is not the chief culprit. Quick profit is
driving this business. Certain animal parts get sold for witchcraft,
others for ornamentation, others still for aphrodisiacs. In Asia,
the horn of the rhino fetches a fortune. An elephant’s tail
makes a good-luck charm. So do eagle feathers, snakes’ teeth,
leopard skins, etc. Poachers always take the high-priced pieces
first. Then, at the sound of an approaching game scout, they abandon
the carcass completely.
And yet the poachers often carry better weapons!
Game scout in Malawi with the tip of tail of an elephant's tail.
Poachers shot the animal, but had to flee before it died.
Ted’s escort was a government scout, moonlighting as a
guide because of poor pay. He showed Ted the burned-out ruins
of his house, attacked by poachers while he was collecting salary.
In this war for conservation the main combatants are poor. It’s
a vicious, deadly contest, not only for the game. At one point
Ted and his guide heard voices coming from some thickets across
the river. Several voices could easily mean several weapons. The
guide was carrying only one. Rather than reveal their presence,
the two decided to be quiet and move on. Later they discovered:
those voices belonged to game scouts. And the scouts also knew
they weren’t alone.
We did not come here for tourism, of course. Nor do the people
and churches who visit. We enjoy an occasional outing to the country,
and so do our guests. So do our hosts, if they can afford it.
Issues of conservation are rather complex. Still, the bottom line
seems clear: Nature is losing. Whether through de-forestation,
or poaching, or global warming, or wasteful mining practices,
or whatever, we are failing as stewards of the Lord’s good
creation. And He can see that even here, in this vast and beautiful
land.
Until the whole world knows,
Yours faithfully,
Sue and Ted Wright
The 2007 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 337 |
