Portrait of a Drought

Imagine you live in a simple mud hut in Equatorial Africa. Your cooking pots and dishes are stacked in a corner. Your bed is made from layers of cow hide which cover a low lying, twig framework. It also serves as a seating area and closet where you keep a metal box which contains your more valuable items. The key to it hangs around your neck.

In the middle of the house, a few stones encircle burnt embers and serve as your cooking stove. You coax a small flame to ward off the morning chill. Off to the side sits a dirty, plastic five-gallon jug. It is empty.

As daylight arrives, the men organize the few remaining animals and head out for water. You pick up your jug, strap the youngest child to your body and begin the long walk. It may take an hour before you reach the water. Maybe more.

The men have not finished with the animals, so you wait. Fortunately, today, the elephants have found water elsewhere so there is no danger.

After another hour, you and your friends begin to draw water for your families. You fill your jug, place the rope over your forehead, the water on your back and begin the long walk uphill.

You'll make tea for the children when you return, but there is no milk for them today. Many cows have died and the ones remaining are not giving any milk. There is none to drink and none to sell.

How will you buy the maize meal to make porridge? Can you get some milk from the goat? At least you have got water and tea and a little sugar for today. Tomorrow, you will do it all again.