WHAT IS MORE PRECIOUS ?

The morning air in Addis Ababa was crisp and nippy. It was the tail end of the wet season and the area immediately surrounding the smart airport was lush green. But as one drove into the city, the changes were quite apparent. For one, there was construction going on everywhere. More and more buildings, more roads, more flyovers. Addis seems to be in state of frenzied transition as it seeks to project the country as the leading light in sub-Saharan Africa, propelled by the vision of the late Prime Minister Meles Zenawi, who passed away very suddenly a few months ago at the age of 57.

My memories went back to almost exactly six years ago, when I came to Ethiopia for the very first time. I remember being struck by the fact that contrary to images of the starving millions that Ethiopia gained notoriety for, the country was a beautiful country, with its highlands and valleys, bustling towns and yet the serene villages in the country side. It was a country very proud of its ancient culture and traditions, many of which are still retained and practiced, including the common use of the Ethiopian version of the calendar and time, which can be quite confusing for a foreigner.

On that visit, we went drove south-east from Addis into the Oromia region. Driving through some amazing landscape and rugged terrain, we passed through the town of Assela. It was a bustling town with some shining shops and guest houses. “This town is known for producing some of the best known Ethiopian athletes”, said my colleague. Ethiopian long distance runners are known world wide for their stamina and speed, and their fierce rivalry with fellow East African runners from Kenya. Many of them had reinvested their finances into this town. “Given the rugged terrain and the long distances, from early childhood, children have to run for everything. And that builds up their stamina and speed that makes them such good runners”, I was told. And yes, you could see that even as you were driving past – children and young people running, all looking quite strong and obviously undaunted by the physical challenges of the terrain.

By late afternoon, we were in a village, quite far from the main road and quite flat when compared to the terrain that we had passed through earlier. There was a rapturous welcome awaiting us. Groups of men and women sang and danced in their traditional style, offering us a warm, traditional welcome, that is so common in Africa.

It was a community of about 2,000 people. Their delight was because of the newly commissioned water facility. There was a deep borehole, motorized, that pumped water to a overhead tank, from which water, after being treated, flowed through pipes into taps located at different points in the community to make it easily accessible. This was obviously something that they were quite proud of. “Though this is meant for us, many people from the surrounding communities come here to fetch water and there is no other reliable source in this region. The only other sources are some ponds which are very polluted”, said the women.

And that launched us into a discussion. “What has changed for you”, I asked, “as a result of this water facility”. This question was met with some shy glances and nervous laughter. “Well, we get water near our house”, ventured one of them. “I can see that, but has that changed anything in your lives”, I pursued. There was yet more silence. After some shuffling and muttering among the women, prompting one another to speak up, a woman who was at the back of the assembled group said, “A lot has changed”. Almost in collective relief, the women made way for her to come to the front. Adjusting her garment to cover her head, she started speaking. And what I then heard was quite unbelievable and heart wrenching !

“Water was a big problem for us. We had to travel about 7 kms. to the nearest source to collect water, which too was not of good quality. It used to be quite dirty as animals also drank from that source. But there was no alternative. Our children would often fall ill, we would fall ill, but there was nowhere else to go. Each day, 4 – 6 hours was spent only on collecting water, which was very tiring.”

There was a short pause. Probably she was contemplating if she should go further. But she saw that people were listening to her. She looked around at the women. The smiles and nervous laughter had disappeared and there was some shuffling of feet. They probably all had some individual stories that came back rushing – or they probably sensed what she was going to say.

“I was heavily pregnant. I was due to deliver any day. But I still had to go and collect water, as my husband would not do that. Other women could not do it for me as they too had to collect water for their families. And I had three small children who were too young to fetch water. So, like any other day, that day too, I went to collect water. On the way back, carrying my jerry can, I felt very tired. Soon, I had labour pains, so I had to sit down. My women companions supported me. And then, we realized to our horror, that I was giving birth, on the way side, far away from my village. The women quickly surrounded me and helped me deliver the child…on the way side” she said calmly, as a matter of fact, looking down at the ground as she spoke, recalling those memories. “Once that was done and over, a thought flashed through my mind for a second. Should I take the child home ? Or should I take the water home ? I could not take both. If I take the child, what happens to the water ? I was reminded of the faces of my three young children who were waiting for this water and for me to cook them a meal. Of course, I did take my newly born child home. But this was what life was earlier – water was so precious that every choice or decision was around water”!

“I am so happy now that those days are gone. Thankfully, we have good, clean water in our village and no longer will any woman have to undergo the dilemma that I faced, even if it was only for a second”!