By FRANCIS KAGOLO

Jatropha plantation in Kimina, Masini, in Uganda

KIMINA, Uganda — The motorbike trip to the remote village of Kimina in Masindi district is distressing; the road is narrow, potholed and dusty. After an hour of a draining ride, we “wake” up to the shock of a large plantation of ebiti (unknown trees), as they are commonly known in this part of western Uganda.

The “trees” are of jatropha, a plant whose non-edible seeds can be harvested to make biodiesel. From a distance, everything looks green. It is a beautiful plantation. The owner, Joseph Kasigwa, a father of four, is proud of it too. It was abject poverty and lack of school fees for his children that pushed him into growing the crop. He now foresees big earnings once harvests start.

Despite the flourishing jatropha, however, Kasigwa will have to spend much of his income on buying food for his family. He has foregone food production for the biodiesel crop. And he is not alone; there are thousands of farmers in Masindi and neighbuoring districts like Hoima and Lira, who have either abandoned or reduced on food crop production in favour of jatropha.

In the past, the crop was used to demarcate people’s plots especially among people in Buganda (central Uganda), with no commercial value. But the global quest for clean energy has changed this. A number of countries across the world now grow the crop to produce power to lessen dependence on fossil fuels. It is widely hoped that the use of biofuel will solve several problems including reduction of greenhouse gas emission, provide a renewable and therefore sustainable energy source and increase income for the rural poor, mostly in developing countries.

According to Andrew Ndawula, the commissioner for renewable energy in the ministry of energy and mineral development, diesel from jatropha seeds is good for powering vehicles. It does not produce toxic gasses when used.

When a plan for large scale production of agrofuels was first unveiled in 2006, hope of overcoming energy deficiencies in Uganda swayed even the most senior Government officials. Since then, there has been a steady move towards massive biodiesel production in the country, with government using incentives like tax holidays to woo foreign investors into the sector. Nexus Biodiel LTD has planted over 400 hectares of jatropha in Isimba, Masindi, which is three hours north of Kampala. There are four other companies yet to start production of biodiesel, virtually from the same crop.

Farmers in Masindi, Hoima and Lira are reportedly enthusiastic about the crop.

Nexus alone boasts of more than 2,000 registered outgrowers in the three districts, according to Edward Mugenyi, the field manager. Only 36 of these have planted over 190 acres of jatropha. Jatropha production also exists in Mukono and Luweero districts of central Uganda among other areas.

Aside from jatropha, other crops being fronted for biodiesel include castor (nsogasoga) and candlenut (Kabakanjagala) seed. African Power Initiatives LTD (API) has planted about 2,000 acres of caster oil and jatropha in Namalu, Karamoja region, officials said last year. The companies promise to start production of diesel soon this year.

Ndawula says the goal is to increase the use of modern renewable energy from the current 4 to 16 percent of the total energy consumed in Ugnada by 2017.  The ministry also says biodiesel is needed to meet the increasing energy demand in the country which it predicts to reach 1,809MWh in 2025. But more importantly, government wants to reduce on fossil fuel imports. It also thinks biodiesels can boost development in rural communities.

The programme has provided the rural population with new alternative cash crops, and thus additional employment. But the move has sparked off vehement criticism. Environmentalists and food rights activists though admit that curbing fuel shortages is crucial for development, warn that the biofuel industry is laced with worse consequences especially on food security.

Geofrey Kamese, the programme officer for energy and climate change at the National Association of Professional Environmentalists (NAPE), a local NGO, says biofuel production will more likely worsen food shortages, hamper poverty alleviation efforts and eventually deter Uganda’s ability to achieve most of the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs).

Biofuels take large chunks of land

He says producing biofuel will demand a lot of land at the expense of food production. Indeed, Robert Nabubolo and Godfrey Bukomba, managers of the Nexus jatropha plantation in Masindi, revealed that an acre of land can plant only about 430 trees.

Each tree produces five kilograms of seed a year, which generate just one liter of diesel. This means only 430 liters of fuel can be produced from an acre of land each year. This is just enough for one car, yet Uganda has over 600,000 vehicles, according to statistics from the works ministry. To move just 2,000 of these vehicles, for instance, it means millions of hectares of fertile land must be put under jatropha and not food production.

Mugenyi says it is possible to intercrop jatropha with some crops like ground nuts and beans to fight hunger, but the hurdle is few farmers are ready to buy this advice. Hence, most of the plantations only have jatropha trees. Besides, Mugenyi also admits that intercropping can be done until jatropha is three years. Beyond that, the trees would have acquired branches and thus unfit for intercropping.

Many other biofuel feedstocks like soybeans, corn and sugarcane are also key sources of food for people. “It does not make sense to starve our people because a few rich ones want fuel to drive cars,” Kamese remarks. “Converting food crops into fuel means more and more people will stay hungry and eventually die.”

It is upon this background that activists warn Government to tread carefully. “Biofuels are coming to compete for the small land that was used to grow food crops. In order to produce an extra litre of diesel, we shall have to convert more land from food crops to produce biofuels as more people go hungry,” Kamese warns.

Environment threatened

In the process, therefore, a lot of rain forests have to be cut to create ample land for jatropha plantations, as the case has been in some parts of Masindi near Murchison Falls National Park. This comes with disastrous environmental impacts, especially now that the country and the world at large, already suffer from the brunt of climate change. Last year, for instance, crops failed due to prolonged droughts, leading to famine that killed over 50 people mainly in the East.

Activists also castigate the monoculture system used for growing biofuel crops for involving excessive use of fertilizers, pesticides and herbicides. “It affects soil fertility and destroys biodiversity, causing both environmental degredation and food insecurity,” NAPE said in a recent publication. NAPE, therefore, believes that biofuel production would increase greenhouse gas emissions and intensify rather than mitigate global warming.

This is in line with a 2007 study by African Biodiversity Network (ABN) which indicated that biofuel projects in Tanzania, Uganda, Zambia and Benin could lead to “environmental and humanitarian disaster on the continent.”

Experts also envisage a sharp upsurge in food prices as more farmers take on biofuels. In a press release, the UN World Food Programme (WFP) attributed the 2008 rise in food prices partly to the “competition (for land) between biofuels and food.” The urban poor, who make up 10% of Ugandan’s urban population, will be hit hardest by the high food prices and will have to stay empty stomach for more days, experts say.

WFP country director, Stanlake Samkange, said in an exclusive interview that although jatropha was another cash crop, there was need to balance cash crops with food production. “Biofuels is not a bad move per se. But we want to be assured that food security will be guaranteed,” Samkange noted.

Aside, Kamese thinks that Uganda’s potential to benefit from the biofuels is very limited. “Our fear is that rich countries are the ones driving the biofuel industry by promising to buy most of the produce. We shall producing fuel for foreign markets as our people bear the burden of feeding their families,” he said.

The global perspective

Since 1930, countries have proposed different approaches to the soaring petroleum fuel prices and shortages; but biodiesels have picked up so rapidly that they seem to dominate the global debate on renewable energy today.

Biofuel production based on agricultural commodities increased globally more than threefold from 2000 to 2007. Statistics show that in 2005, for instance, a total of 994 million gallons or 3,762 million liters of biodiesel were produced across the world. Germany alone produced 1,921 million liters that year mainly from rape seed. Currently Brazil is said to be the leading producer of biofuels, mostly from ethanol and crops like soybeans and jatropha. In the US, biodiesel is produced mainly from corn. Other countries include Austria, France, UK, and Italy among others.

But fears of biofuels exacerbating hunger have reportedly forced China to be cautious when it comes to this new source of energy. With 20% of the world’s population to feed, diverting foodcrops to fuel production has reportedly been a deeply controversial issue in China. In 2007, for instance, China’s State Council halted the use of grain crops for ethanol production.

As biofuels promoters promise a source of environment-friendly energy that would also be a boon to the world’s farmers, skeptics argue that biofuel production will threaten food supplies for the poor and fail to achieve the environmental benefits claimed.

In an apparent concern over the negative repercussions biofuels had to food security, the UN Food and Agricultural Organisation (FAO) in 2008 asked nations to rethink the move towards widespread biodiesel production.

FAO also came up with a number of guidelines necessary to ensure environmentally, economically and socially sustainable biofuel production. It said national policies must protect the poor and food-insecure; ensure agricultural, rural development, and environmental sustainability. It also called for international system that are supportive of sustainable biofuel development.

Way forward

Besides the caution from WFP representative, who speaks from a hindsight having spent billions of dollars providing food relief to Ugandans hunger-stricken areas like Karamoja, there are specific challenges that need to be addressed in Uganda.

Top on the agenda, Kamese says, is the quick enactment of a national policy governing the biofuel industry. “If a person has 10 acres of land, how much of it must he put to growing jatropha or other fuel crops? A carefully scrutinised policy should guide local communities on such issues,” he says.

The policy, he adds, is also needed to protect people with insecure land tenure systems from being deprived of the opportunity of growing food crops. Plus, there is need to control prices such that even those engaged in biofuel production can afford to buy food.

Samakange says it is important that government looks at the overall balancing of food security with biofuels by encouraging farmers not to abandon food crops completely.

Other environmentalists say it would be prudent to explore several renewable energy sources for curbing the energy crisis other than emphasising biofuels. One route would be by promoting the use of solar and wind energy. Kamese also believes that small holder energy projects would be a better option for local communities than large scale biofuel plantations.

But in order to benefit the poor, and to make viable economic and environmental contributions, experts believe that biofuel technology needs further improvement, and investments and policies facilitating better agricultural innovation and trade be considered. Serious caution is sounded against Uganda turning food crops like maize into fuel.

Francis Kagolo is a staff reporter for Uganda’s national daily newspaper, New Vision.

The fellowships will each total $36,000, including round trip airfare, professional stipends, and rent while in Berkeley.

The selected fellows will join the School’s Visiting International Scholars Program and participate in a new journalism training initiative aimed to provide high quality coverage of agricultural development issues in Africa for dissemination in U.S., African, and international media. The initiative will also offer dedicated funding for both domestic U.S. and Africa travel for research and reporting work.

Requirements:

Selected fellows must bring at least five years experience in journalism in sub-Saharan Africa, in any medium including print newspaper, magazine, television, radio, documentary, or new media format such as blogging, podcasting, and other online publishing.

Applicants also must demonstrate a proven track record of commitment to the truth-seeking craft, and a willingness to effectively investigate the problems of hunger on the continent with an aim to publish or broadcast stories about these topics and bring them to light in compelling form for audiences in Africa and around the world. A B.A. degree, at minimum, is strongly desired, along with experience and knowledge about agricultural issues in the applicant’s native country.

Selected African fellows will enroll with other Visiting Scholars in background courses at Berkeley examining the global food crisis starting in late August 2010, while also contributing their knowledge about Africa and journalism to their U.S. and international peers.

Please submit applications via the online form.

To access the form, use the password:

africa2010

The form provides spaces to include your resume, a one-page cover letter containing a statement of interest, and links to three examples of work.

For questions, contact africa@journalism.berkeley.edu

Deadline for applications: Monday, March 29, 2010

This opportunity is part of a two-year grant provided by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation to the Graduate School of Journalism at the University of California at Berkeley.

Generations of experts have dedicated their careers to finding ways to make sure children around the world have enough to eat. As Beth Hoffman reports from Uganda, some are turning to an overlooked bird to provide food and income.

This story was first broadcast on Living on Earth, an independent weekly environmental news program.

Feb. 3

Before I share my recollections on my last night in the country, I wanted to share something I forgot to mention in the last entry.

On the night we get back from Pujehun, after everyone has dropped off their bags at Sahid’s place, I’m sitting in the foyer of the house just outside of the living room waiting for the Internet to load when Augustine, the teenager who stays with Sahid and his family in Freetown, approaches me very quietly. I could tell he was connecting with me since we first began talking about hip hop in America.

So when he approached me, he was very honest. Standing against the wall, he tells me that his view about agriculture has changed since I had arrived. A few days ago, he was explaining how he, like many youths in Freetown, felt agriculture was not appealing to him. But he says he has seen my commitment to my assignment and how I had traveled to each youth farming group in the provinces to hear what they had to say about agriculture. That effort, he says, has inspired him to perhaps go into farming after he finishes secondary school.

That statement right there should be an indication that youths’ attitudes about agriculture in Sierra Leone are indeed changing.

My last night in Sierra Leone was a memorable one. I guess I made such an impression on one of the youth groups that I interviewed in Waterloo that they decided to show their appreciation by hosting a send-off party for me and my guides. Mind you, these are youths from a rural part of the country who often can’t afford to finish school, who don’t have anyone supporting their organization, who have to struggle for everything. Yet they plan this big celebration just for us. We eat, dance and perspire until about 2 in the morning.

They put so much effort into it. They clear out a room in their multipurpose center and have a few lights hanging from the ceiling. They get chairs for me, Sahid and Theo to sit on, a table and a table cloth, plates, glasses, silverware, napkins and plenty of Fanta (for me, of course), beer and palm wine, and a D.J. These were all rare sites in most of the places we have visited at night. As I’m writing this, I can still hear LRG’s “Money in the Bank” and everyone jumping to the middle of the room and dancing in a circle when they hear it.

As I travel back home, I stop at Heathrow Airport in London for one of my layovers. I walk through the airport to my gate, and what do I see? A Tiffany’s store with the best of the world’s diamonds on display for all of those passengers who just can’t leave London without a piece of high-class jewelry in their suitcase. I want to qualify this by saying that I have no problem with Tiffany’s or anyone who shops there. But, at this moment, I can’t help but be reminded of that 25-year-old guy I met in Kono who was in that mining pit, knee-deep in the murky, sewer-brown water, working for meager wages and searching for a diamond he may never find.

Feb. 2

I’ve been without the electricity or time now to jot down my daily thoughts for a while. But here are my recollections of the last few days.

On Friday, we travel to Kono in the eastern part of the country. It is known as the breadbasket of the country because of its rich diamond resources. How do you know you’re in Kono? You can feel the bumpy roads along the way to the district (and, in the case of the video below, you can hear them as well).

I see a mining site, where I interview a 25-year-old guy who has been working in the pit for about five years. Diamond miners spend the whole day swishing around gravel in a pan looking for the precious metals. The diamond boom here has subsided, so discoveries are quite rare these days. Most people just find these tiny black rocks which they call “black material,” which is supposed to indicate to the miners that a diamond is near. I ask the guy when’s the last time he found a diamond. He couldn’t remember (or maybe he wouldn’t tell me).

We visit a war memorial, which is housed in a rebuilt building where eight people were burned alive by the rebels during the civil war. On one of the posters inside the memorial reads:

“Mammy Isata has described how in pain and death by fire the victims ‘gripped’ one another. The skeletons stood against the wall. One person escaped.”

That represents just a small portion of the destruction the war caused. You can see other remnants of the war in the hollowed-out buildings that still stand throughout most of the rural provinces.

I lose my footing on the way to one of the many farms I have visited here. I don’t know if it was because of exhaustion or just thinking this was another simple hike (it was not!), but it resulted in both of my shoes being baptized in the swamp mud.

On Sunday, we travel to Pujehun in the southern region of the country. On the way, we stop in Bo, the second-largest city in the country, to watch a soccer game in a sports bar where the Manchester United vs. Arsenal game is playing on the big screen. I notice that the Africa Cup of Nations championship game is showing only on a bunch of small screens throughout the place, and no one is paying attention to it. Sahid says that’s because when African players play for their own countries, they aren’t as good as when they play for foreign teams.

We spend all Monday in Pujehun. The first thing I notice about this place is how it looks like there is only one short block of homes in the center of the district with working electricity. Those homes provide the only glimmer of light for as far as the eye can see. As for the rest of the homes, many are subject to no electricity or running water. Theo tells me everything is politicized here. You can tell where that is true.

We wake up early the next morning to visit the next set of groups, and I’m glad to be spending the day in the environments of the youth farming groups. I spend a lot of time in the bush, where you can will see acres and acres of cassava, palm trees, pineapple, coconut and even apples. I also see benny, a staple crop here, but it is either brown or wilted because, like in Kono, the government gave the groups their seeds too late in the rainy season for them to harvest.

Later in the night, back at the guest house, we meet up with another Sierra Leonean journalist who knows Sahid and Theo. We talk for hours, and during one of the conversations the journalist tells me he heard about my arrival in Pujehun even before we had met. As a TV journalist for the southern region, he says it is his job to check in with the city council in the area everyday to check on the day’s events. He says he met today with the council administrator, who told him he had met with a delegation of journalists earlier in the day, including a white man. The white man he was referring to was me. I can’t help but chuckle because I had been anticipating this moment while I was here. No doubt, my skin tone is fairer than about 99.99% of the people in Sierra Leone. For many of them, the only person they’ve seen with my same complexion is probably Barack Obama (as a matter of fact, many people here say I look like him). So most people here assume I’m black like Obama, meaning one of my parents is white. I explain that both of my parents are black, and that in the U.S. there are many shades of black. I don’t mind the misunderstanding, but I do mind that council administrator blatantly disrespecting us like that, especially since earlier that day we went out of our way to meet with him and explain what I was doing there. Another reminder that even though you may be a black man, let alone a black journalist, in Africa, sometimes you are still considered just another American.

By JULIET TOROME

NAIROBI — When I met Eunice Wangari at a Nairobi coffee shop recently, I was surprised to hear her on her mobile phone, insistently asking her mother about the progress of a corn field in her home village, hours away from the big city. A nurse, Wangari counts on income from farming to raise money to buy more land – for more farming.

Photo from flickr via donkeycart

Even though Wangari lives in Kenya’s capital, she is able to reap hundreds of dollars a year in profit from cash crops grown with the help of relatives. Her initial stake – drawn from her nursing wages of about $350 a month – has long since been recovered.

Wangari is one of thousands of urban workers in Kenya – and one of hundreds of thousands, even millions, across Africa – who are increasing their incomes through absentee agriculture. With prices for basic foodstuffs at their highest levels in decades, many urbanites feel well rewarded by farming.

Absentee agriculture also bolsters national pride – and pride in traditional diets – by specializing in vegetables specific to the region. “For too long our country has been flooded with imported food and Westernized foods,” Wangari says. “This is our time to fight back – and grow our own.”

Across Africa, political leaders, long dismissive of rural concerns, have awakened to the importance of agriculture and the role that educated people, even those living in major cities, can play in farming. In Nigeria, former President Olusegun Obasanjo has a huge diversified farm and has pushed for policies to help absentee farmers prosper. In Uganda, Vice President Gilbert Bukenya routinely travels the country, promoting higher-value farming, such as dairy production.

Perhaps the most visible political support for absentee agriculture is in Liberia, a small West African country where civil war destroyed agriculture, rendering the population dependent on food imports, even today. President Johnson-Sirleaf, recognizing that educated people could contribute much to an agriculture revival, launched her “Back to the Soil” campaign in June 2008 in large part to encourage urban dwellers to farm.

To be sure, absentee farming by elites and educated urban workers can’t solve all of Africa’s urgent food needs. Moreover, absentee farmers face unexpected problems. Because they don’t visit their fields often, they rely heavily on relatives and friends.  When I decided to farm wheat for the first time this spring on leased land in my childhood village, my mother agreed to supervise plowing, planting, and harvesting. Without her help, I might not have farmed at all.

Even with mother’s help, I have worries. Although I grew up around wheat fields, my knowledge of farming is thin. Fertilizer and spraying were both more expensive than I thought. While my wheat stalks are sprouting on schedule, I now fear that at harvest time – in November – prices will fall and I won’t recoup my costs.

One key tool is the mobile phone. My hopes for success are buoyed by my ability to call my mother inexpensively and discuss the farm. We even decided over the phone what kind of pesticide to use and which tractor company to hire.

Because they know both the tastes of fellow city dwellers and rural conditions, many urban farmers are succeeding. In fact, some city dwellers don’t even bother with acquiring land or gaining distant help. Certain crops can be grown in their own homes. James Memusi, an accountant, grows mushrooms in a spare bedroom, selling them to nearby hotels and supermarkets.

Nevertheless, most people living in Africa’s cities have access to land in the countryside, which is why Liberia’s government rightly highlights the potential for farm expansion. In a new advertising campaign rolled out this summer, the authorities declared, “The soil is a bank; invest in it.”

In Liberia, the main push is to reduce imports of staples such as rice and tomatoes. In more prosperous countries, African elites are motivated by a complex interplay of national pride, dietary concerns, and the pursuit of profit. In Zambia, for example, Sylva Banda ignited a craze for authentic traditional meals two decades ago with a chain of popular restaurants. Now, ordinary Lusakans want to cook similar meals in their own homes, driving demand for farmers who produce such delicacies as dried pumpkin, “black jack” leaves, and fresh Okra.

Similarly, in Nairobi, Miringo Kinyanjui, another woman entrepreneur, is supplying unrefined – and more nutritious – maize and wheat flour. In another move to distinguish her ingredients from Western versions, Kinyanjui also sells through grocery stores flour flavored with Amarathan, a green vegetable that grows around Kenya.

The revival of traditional foods has attracted the attention of large multinational corporations. Last year, Unilever’s Kenyan branch ran a “taste our culture” campaign in support of its line of traditional East African herbs and spices.

Such campaigns go hand-in-hand with expanded farming, because sellers of these foods prefer nearby growers – even if these growers increasingly live in the city.

Juliet Torome is a writer and documentary filmmaker originally from Kenya who is now living in California. She was awarded Cine-source magazine’s first-annual Flaherty documentary award in 2009.

Hunger looms as biofuels take root in Uganda–Ugandan farmers are seeing the effects of growing food for fuel.  Jatropha, a plant with non-edible seeds that are made into biofuels has become popular in various parts of the country.  Because farmers see more potential for profit with biofuel crops many have stopped or reduced food crop production in favor of growing this tree.  Geofrey Kamese, the program officer for energy and climate change at the National Association of Professional Environmentalists (NAPE), a local NGO, believes that biofuel production will more likely increase food shortages and promote poverty.  And while biofuel promoters and experts disagree on the subject, food security of the country is the main focus for organizations like the World Food Program—whose Ugandan representatives caution against unstructured policy for growing biofuels.

Nigeria annually spends $700 million to import rice from Thailand according to www.africa-agriculture.com. Prasit Damrongshitama, CEO of Chareon Pokphand reported that Nigeria imports one million tons of rice from Thailand every year.  As “good economic growth and friendly investment climate” bolstered a decision to look into more investment opportunities, his company is now looking to grow rice and maize in Nigeria.  So far agricultural entrepreneurs in Nigeria have been open to the Thai company’s plan and expect positive changes as a result.

- ARP Staff

Jan. 29

I’m starting to feel right at home. We spent most of the day Wednesday in Waterloo, in the Western Area Rural District, where we met with three youth farming groups. They all had interesting stories and seemed very determined to get their projects off the ground.

But they all mentioned one similar problem: Because they were women’s groups, they were all dealing with the issue of getting young girls out of prostitution (which is very common here because of the lack of job opportunities and the difficulty of funding education for young people). They seem to be having some success pulling former prostitutes off the streets with the incentive that farming could not only provide self-sufficiency but also income.

While we wait to start the day, I sit with Alhaji, our driver in Freetown, outside of Sahid’s house. Since I told him I was from California, he has been telling me about a friend he knows from San Francisco, Janet Allen. He tells me he met her while she was on a Peace Corps mission in Sierra Leone. So he asks me to contact her when I get back home and give her his information. He carries her number and e-mail address on a piece of college-ruled paper in his wallet, perhaps just for opportunities like this. I consider this my reminder to follow up on his request as soon as I get back. He also shows me his tax receipt that he keeps in his wallet at all times along with the piece of paper with Janet’s contact information. He tells me that the government makes everyone here pay taxes, 5,000 Leones a year (about $1.25 in U.S.). Interesting fact knowing that 70 percent of the population here lives in poverty, and jobs aren’t necessarily easy to come by.

It is late in the evening. Sahid, my other guide in Sierra Leone, invites me into the living room because he wants to show me a documentary about his NGO, Democracy and Improvement Associate-Sierra Leone, who helps youths find employment in rural parts of the country. But a few minutes into the documentary, the generator gives out, which means no more electricity for the night. So we move a few chairs from the living room outside to talk and relax. There is a cool breeze that keeps my mind off the mugginess of the night. The only other light comes from the moon.

After awhile, Augustine comes to join me outside. He is one of the nine people Sahid takes care of, and when he isn’t in secondary school he helps out with chores around the house. The first question he asks me is one that I’ve been waiting to hear since I’ve been here. “Do you know about Litt-le Wayne?” he asks. Of course, I respond. He lists a few other popular American rappers, and we get into a long conversation about how much hip hop has influenced young Sierra Leoneans. Augustine tells me that he, like many young people in Freetown, listens exclusively to hip hop. He tells me how much young people relate to the music, and I tell him I completely understand. I also give him my thoughts on how I love hip hop as well since that is the music I grew up listening to, but how I’m troubled with the images some artists portray in the music.

Augustine tells me that the music gives he and his peers the message that black people in America take for granted the opportunities they have obtained since the Civil Rights Movement. He tells me that people here have heard that the day a baby is born in America, they have a bank account. I assure him that reality is only true for some people born in the U.S. While we’re talking, I can’t help but wonder why is that if hip hop has had such a big influence over here and if American hip hop stars have made so much money over there, then why is it that Bill Gates is the person putting all this money into Africa and not a 50 Cent or a Lil’ Wayne.

Jan. 27

The journey to Sierra Leone was long. I left California Monday afternoon and, after two layovers, I finally arrived at my destination the next evening. It really didn’t start to sink in that I was heading to Africa until our plane began flying over the Sahara. All I remember seeing was vast areas of sand, with layers of blue and orange coating the horizon. The nice lady sitting next to me described it as an “ocean of brown.” I would concur.

When I arrived at the airport, I was both excited and anxious. Excited because I couldn’t believe that I had actually made it to the Motherland. Anxious because the task ahead of me, I knew, was going to be a challenge.

We got off the plane and walked a short way to the security gate.

I stood in line, patiently waiting for the security personnel to check my passport and send me on my way. There was a piece of white paper with my name written on it (spelled Martin Richards ["Dang," I thought to myself at first, "They didn't spell my name right, like always." But I found out later there was a reason.]) by one of the security windows. No one was holding it. It was just resting against the window. That told me that my guides were nearby. Then the deluge began, not from people saying hello or asking for anything, but from immigration officials skeptical of the reason I was there. If it wasn’t for a young man sent by one of my guides whisking me through the line, I might have still been in that airport. Nonetheless, my guides were waiting for me right when I got past security and they made me feel welcome.

It was pitch black when we got on the road. We had to catch the ferry to get from the airport to Freetown. It must have been about 11 o’clock, and people were either walking on the side of the road or chilling outside of their residences.

While on the way to the ferry, we overheard a news update about Haiti. I ask one of my guides, Theo, what he thinks about Haiti. He says it makes him very said. Then he tells me the Sierra Leonean government donated $100,000 to Haiti, the first of its kind for the country. He adds, however, that people have been wondering how the government could make such an enormous pledge when it didn’t have the money and people were suffering in their own country.

We continue down the road, and as we get closer to the ferry, I notice that many of the buses (here, they are usually small Eurovan-type vehicles) are emblazoned with religious homages and benevolent sayings like “God’s Time is the Best” and “Allah is the Greatest.” Theo tells me the main religions practiced here are Islam (about 60% of the population) and Christianity (the rest), and they all get along. He says that it is not a part of the law, but when an official is elected to office from a certain religion, for example, normally they like to have someone from another religion in the next subordinate position. Theo himself is a Rastafarian.

We arrive at the port where the ferry will take us to Freetown. To get on, cars line up single file. We wait for at least 30 to 45 minutes for the ferry to drop off passengers coming from Freetown. Getting on the ferry looks like a task. Vehicles have to scale a slippery ramp that looks like it is nearly at a 45-degree angle. Many cars hydroplane on the first attempt (we slipped back on to the pavement on the first try) but usually make it the second time around.

Theo takes me upstairs to sit down. We walk into a nautical enclosure that says “First Class” on the door post. There, people sit on wooden seats, a young man with dreads DJ’s and there is a small bar where women sell snacks and drinks. Second class is upstairs, on top of the ferry, where everyone else sits. Theo takes me up to see what it looks like, and there is a cool breeze from the ocean. I would rather be up here on a night like this, when it feels like about 80 degrees just on the inside.

We return to first class. After sitting for awhile, I notice a familiar song playing on the TV above the DJ. It’s Soul for Real’s “Candy Rain.” I nearly jump out of my seat because that was my jam back in the day.

We finally arrive in Freetown, and as we step off the ferry the darkness is broken up only by the lampposts at the port. Beyond that, the city is nearly pitch black at this time of night. The only other specks of light come from a far-off distance beyond the port. Theo tells me those are fishing boats. He tells me that the country is having a big problem with poaching right now. Although there is an abundance of fish available to catch, Sierra Leonean fishermen have to compete with poachers from outside the country, who basically have free range over the seas because of lax (or should I say hardly enforced) regulation. Looks like there will be a lot for us to talk about while I’m here.