Women of Malawi

I set off to Malawi with this idea that I wanted to document some of the orphans stories. Share what they have gone through at such an early age. But as I started reading and talking to the children, caregivers, local villagers and Malawians, my idea grew into sharing the stories of some of the women of Malawi. The women who are working hard to empower a country and change the course of the future for themselves and the next generation. The women who are left behind due to lack of services, education and health problems. The mix is vast, but there is a definite shift in the driving force behind empowering the country, particularly with the death of previous President Bingu wa Mutharika in April and the second woman head of state in Africa, Joyce Banda stepping up to lead the Republic of Malawi in a new direction.

Initially it was the children’s stories that provoked my interest in the women of Malawi. Children orphaned from parents dying of HIV/AIDs; babies buried alive at one day old with their deceased mother to prevent the mother’s spirit from being angered; babies orphaned as their extended family handed over the child as the mentally ill mother was raped and after the child’s birth the mother tried to kill the baby; a 9 year-old girl running a child-headed household on a social welfare payment of 2000 Kw a month ($7.39 USD) to provide food and other needs for her and her 5 & 6 year-old siblings; a 16 year-old girl fortunate enough to attend high school with the dream to be a Pastor, except in Malawian culture they do not allow women Pastor’s so instead she aims to study nursing after completing school. This is just the beginning of the stories shared. And they are horrifying and heart breaking stories, but after years listed as one of the poorest nations in the world and with global development indexes ranking very low in all areas of education, health, life expectancy, etc, there are many people working hard to change the outcomes for future generations.

Ezalina & her siblings living at an orphanage 4 years after they were found living as a child headed household

Magret is 12 years-old when I meet her. She is the leader of her choir group and loves singing. She is in Standard 6 and after school loves to hang out with her friends Dorothy and Ezalina. They help with feeding the younger babies or like to draw with their colouring in pencils. When Magret finishes school she would like to go to college to study to be a Secretary. Singing though is what makes her the happiest in the world. Margret knows that her mother died while giving birth to her. She also knows that her extended family buried her with her mother the following day. She is fortunate that one relative was upset by her baby cries that day and had the graveyard boys dig her back up, and immediately took her to the orphanage so that she could have a chance at life. Magret smiles while answering my questions and when I ask if I can take her photo she beams and begins posing with her friends and by her self, not shy of the spot light.

Magret and her friends

Female school attendance after the age of 14 is fairly uncommon. It is the females place to stay at home and help with the care of younger children or tending to the crops to help with providing an income for the family. This skill on the land though is being used in a new business strategy by women in the villages. A co-operative formed of women from the Sampha, Chalendewa and Kalumba villages outside Lilongwe, has a plot of land in the Sampha village where they grow organic Aromatherapy crops. Aromatherapy crops have the potential to bring in four times the income of Tobacco as they can harvest several times a year and co-plant other food crops in amongst the aromatherapy crops. This adds an additional source of income through food crops the women can sell at the market. The women’s co-operative has a workshop set up with a lab and distillation equipment in the process of being set up this month. They have received training through Build A School UK to use the equipment and are negotiating export of their organic fair trade oils and products in the UK and throughout Africa.

Women’s Co-operative farmers

As of April this year, the second female head-of-state in Africa, Mrs Joyce Banda has already begun leading the nation in an attempt to empower the people. Firstly selling off the presidential jet and 60 Mercedes limousines in an attempt to redirect the priorities of the government towards the needs of the people. The fact that the Republic of Malawi is lead by a woman is a huge step in overcoming cultural inequalities faced by the 7.6 million females of Malawi.

Mental health seems to be a common factor amongst reasons for orphaned children. In my short time visiting the country and reading through 600 of the almost 1 million orphans stories mental illness was a recurring issue. The mother was often noted to “go mad” after giving birth and either tried to kill her baby or herself. Suicide was a recurring reason for the mother’s death. The type of mental illness never specified. Mostly due to the lack of training of health officials (Malawi now has two qualified Psychologists) in being able to diagnose and treat Post Natal Depression or other pre-existing mental illnesses or conditions, these women are suffering silently. Their extended family often caring for the mother and her new-born baby, as the mother cannot cope or doesn’t want the baby. It is in this way that babies like 4 month-old Hugh end up in an orphanage after his mother repeatedly tried to kill him by flushing him down a toilet or attempting to put him in a pot of boiling water when he was less than a month old.

Malawi has a long way to go. But as more schools become available to support female attendance and health care improves the country is slowly improving its rank on the UN human development index. After years of oppression the women in the villages are empowering themselves, their families, communities and the future generation of women to come, through education and support from the government and many NGO’s. This is just the beginning of the story. It’s the tip of the research I’ve conducted for a longer piece I need to do at university this upcoming semester. The more people share with me about their lives, dreams and the future they are working towards the more I want to know. The more I want to return to Malawi and keep learning and being involved.

2012 Really Late Bucket List

I guess it’s better late than never. Making a Bucket List of all the things I’d like to do this year. It’s been easy putting one together. After sitting in front of my laptop all weekend typing assignments and with two weeks to go until the end of university for the semester, my mind easily wanders to the fun things I’d like to achieve in 2012.

So my bucket list for the rest of 2012:

1. Complete a 30 day Yoga challenge.

2. Watch the turtles hatch at Mon Repos.

3. Go to Tanzania (this is a cheat add-on to the list, because it is a new country I know I am going to visit soon).

4. Road trip all summer following wakeboard competitions and just generally hanging out in the sun and water.

5. Spend my 30th birthday on the beach chilling out with family and friends.

6. Do a remedial massage course.

7. Read a book written in Spanish and not understand a word of it (but try looking things up and see what they mean).

8. Learn to scuba dive.

9. Try a pole dancing class or circus acrobatics class.

10. Teach myself to make sushi.

I think in between university that’s a good list to aim to achieve in 2012. Now to stick the list to my fridge so that I am reminded of all the things I want to do with myself this year!

 

 

 

Distractions

I am coming into the final weeks of this semester at university.  With seven assignments due in the next month, I should be hard at work on these.  Instead I find myself scouring the internet for information on an idea I’ve had.  You know one of those projects you have a dream about and upon waking in the morning, it’s all you think about?  Well two days ago, I had one of those ideas and ever since I have been going through details to make it a reality.

The problem is that my idea is quite large and therefore wouldn’t be able to be fulfilled until March/April 2014.  Which is 23 months away.  Plenty of time.  Unlike my impending deadlines for my seven assignments at the end of May 2012.  And yet, I can’t shake my enthusiasm to start planning my project, even though I have more pressing responsibilities at uni.  Here lies the great problem with procrastination.  It’s far more fun to plan an overseas adventure than it is to analyse the techniques used and their link to social context in Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights.  And without passing my classes at uni, the projects I dream up will never become a reality… because I will spend the rest of my life at university repeating subjects until I finally finish something.

So with this in mind, I guess the logical choice is to get back to writing assignments.  For it’s only one month away until the end of the semester and then I can spend seven weeks plotting and planning the logistics of my new project.  I guess in the mean time you’ll just have to watch this space to find out more…

ANZAC Day

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
Lest we forget.

Today is a proud day in my family, like many other Australians.  A day to reflect on all the people who served to protect our safety and security as a country and their own lives they may have sacrificed in the process.  It’s a day to be extremely grateful for all that we have.  In my families case it’s a day to be thankful that we exist.

My grandfather, as many other grandfathers did, signed up and was shipped off to fight in WW2.  As far as we knew growing up, he had been involved in communications as a radio operator somewhere in the South Pacific.  He had played an important role, but never been involved in armed combat or on the front line.  That was the end of his war story… until the 11th July 2006, when we finally discovered the real story.

Squil Taylor Ming Cleary
Hawthorn

The day of my grandfather’s funeral was a sad occasion, but at the same time a celebration of one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met.  My grandfather lived to 88 years of age.  He was married to the love of his life for over 60 years, until she had passed away two years previously.  He had received an Order of Australia medal for his work in the community and he’d had false teeth that he used to poke out at my sister and I, to send us running, screaming and laughing through the house to cuddle up to grandma or mum or dad, in the hopes that those crazy teeth didn’t get us.

I don’t think my Dad, Sister or I fully understood just how amazing he was until the wake held in the little rec room at my grandfather’s local church on a sunny July afternoon.  When we spoke with a friend of my grandfather’s, who used to bring him library books to read each week.  It was on one of these visits that a book triggered my grandfather  to share this story with him…    In WW2 my grandfather had been in the field.  He had been based in Victoria Township in Labaun, Borneo.  One particular Sunday he was supposed to lead his men out into the field, as per normal routine.  This particular Sunday, him and his men stayed in camp to attend a church service run by a visiting preacher.  They’d not had any religious guidance in months and my grandfather, a man of faith, didn’t want to pass up the opportunity.  This applied to the other groups of men due to go on patrol.  Some decided to stay and others decided to go.  On this particular Sunday, the men who stayed to pray, survived.  The men who went on patrol did not.  They made it less than 10 miles outside of camp before they were bombed/gunned down.

Bomb Dump

This is all of the story we ever received.  We’d always asked my grandfather about the war, but he always managed to vaguely glaze over his experience and redirect the conversation.  It was at this moment that my Dad, Sister and I wished that we’d continued asking questions.  Wished that we’d gotten to know the full story.  But it was too late.  We would never know the full details of the story or how close to truth it was.  But it didn’t really matter.  All that did matter was that due to a small act on faith, my family, myself, exist today.  It could have turned out very differently, as many other families have experienced with the loss of sons fighting for our country.  Anzac Day is a day to remember not just those that have served and continued to serve to protect our country, but a day to be grateful for the freedom and existence we have because of their courage.

Frank and Heather Makepeace

My Favourites

I have been looking through old travel photos a lot today as I’ve worked on a travel article about Malawi.  I couldn’t help myself.  It started with “research” of my photos of Malawi and then I slid into the South African photos and then I couldn’t stop.  I found myself going through my entire digital photo catalogue which, while it’s not all of my photos taken during this time, it is all the photos I’ve managed to retrieve and put on to this computer from 2007 until the present moment.

So todays post is another photo display.  Rather than all the usual pretty landscapes or standard postcard shots I seem to include with my posts, I’m delving into my favourite photos from the past five years of my adventures.  The candid moments, the people, the memories that I continually revisit from the absurd to the downright unbelievable to me just being a weirdo.  The moments captured that bring a smile and a laugh to my lips every time I see them.

My favourite photos…

She Walks in Beauty

 
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
   Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
   Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
   Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
   Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
   How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
   So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
   But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
   A heart whose love is innocent!
~ Lord Byron

Clenched Soul

We have lost even this twilight.

No one saw us this evening hand in hand

while the blue night dropped on the world.

I have seen from my window

the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.

Sometimes a piece of sun

burned like a coin in my hand.

I remembered you with my soul clenched

in that sadness of mine that you know.

Where were you then?

Who else was there?

Saying what?

Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly

when I am sad and feel you are far away?

The book fell that always closed at twilight

and maybe my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.

Always, always you recede through the evenings

toward the twilight erasing statues.

~ Pablo Neruda

Two things I love about this guy:

1. His poetry

2. Saying his name, it sounds so cool… Pablo Neruda… Pablo Neruda… Pablo Neruda :)

 

To wait or not?

“If you wait to do everything until you’re sure it’s right, you’ll probably never do much of anything.”

~ Win Borden

Correct.  So from my crossroads yesterday between my head and my heart… my heart has now won.  It might not be the right thing to do, but if I don’t give it a try nothing else will have changed.

Head Change

In order to change the world, you have to get your head together first.
~ Jimi Hendrix

Easier said than done.  I spend most of my days trying to get my head together, so that I can start changing my world.  Maybe it’s something that once you stop trying, it will just happen… I think I’ll give this theory a try for a while and see how I go.

Solitude

SOLITUDE

Spiritual joys come only from solitude,
So the wise choose the bottom of the well,
For the darkness down there beats
The darkness up here.
He who follows at the heels of the world
Never saves his head.

~ Rumi

Previous Older Entries

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 67 other followers

%d bloggers like this: