Two economies

On the way to view the kitchen garden in Gahanga, I remarked on the new market (above) being built on the site of the old informal one. There are many such projects. Rachel commented that now people would find it difficult to make any money by selling their produce because the government charges such a high daily rent for a place in a new covered market. I asked what the money went towards. We'd love to know, she replied. We pay taxes for our land, for rental income, we pay school fees, we pay for rubbish collection whether we use it or not...

[Added on Sunday: What I failed to make explicit yesterday is the lack of opportunities to earn the money that could then be used to pay taxes! I had a good example this morning. On my walk to church I was joined by Marthe, a dynamic young woman who led the service a couple of weeks ago. She has recently completed a four year degree course in public administration. She is multi-lingual, personable and extremely keen to find work. She gets as far as an interview a couple of times a month but hasn't quite landed a job yet. She has an older sister who is sick and several younger siblings who keep asking for money for school equipment etc, failing to grasp that despite her years away studying she still isn't earning. (Yes, the first nine years of school now are free of fees, but it still costs money to send children to school.)]

Selling by the roadside is not a safe option - I heard the other day of an American here who went to get his house worker out of prison after an indiscriminate round up following a car break in. Waiting for the formalities to be completed, he observed a line of poor women who'd been selling fruit in town from trays on their heads, lying on the ground being beaten on the soles of their feet.

The kitchen garden is a fine construction at the side of the church. Local pastors' wives have formed a committee and organised the work, bringing in local women to join them and paying an ex-prisoner for the ehavy work. (Gaudence has used the same man for her raised garden at home. He has left prison with a marketable skill.)

Constructed two months ago, in readiness for the rainy season, the raised bed and the surrounding field have been planted with lettuce, carrots, beetroot, basil and rocket. Of these, only carrots are easily available locally. Lettuce, rocket and basil have all grown abundantly from seed I brought from England, and seed saved from the first crop is now growing well. The lettuce will be ready in a couple of weeks and sweet potatoes have already been interplanted for succession.

What of the economics? The local women who come regularly to weed and water will be paid in seeds bought in town, to encourage them to plant at home. Produce will be sold to church members and neighbours, and possibly in the market if there is surplus. When funds allow, the plan is to build rabbit hutches round the edge of the land, to provide droppings for enriching compost as well as meat to be sold. At that point a night guard will need to be employed.

A local official has already been to admire and commend the work. He hoped the group responsible would teach others.

I asked if they'd be paid for teaching. Probably not, because they are only a small organisation. But bigger bodies can charge, and Rachel was surprised recently when, invited to teach gardening skills to a large organisation a little way out of town, she had her transport paid as well as a small fee. Reluctance to pay to attend a training is a legacy from the post-war days, when the international community was so ashamed of having allowed the genocide that organisations poured in to Rwanda, paying people to attend seminars with expensive food in the best hotels.

When my sister and I had young families we experienced the two economies. I, living in suburban London, had an income from part time work and paid for the children's various out-of-school activites. My sister, in a village in a part of Scotland thriving on wealth from North Sea oil, volunteered as a teacher at the Saturday morning music club. I don't want to judge either superior.

On the coffee table in Gaudence and Augustin's living room is a fascinating book, written by a Westerner, describing African attitudes to money. I have much to learn.