Mrs Gama performs a miracle

Malawi

A triumph in Lifuwu as enriched soils enrich life

Rory Carroll reports

Neighbours and strangers come to marvel at the phenomenon sprouting over Edith Gama's house. None recalls seeing a banana tree grow so high so fast: in less than a year it has become the tallest object around.

Mrs Gama enjoys the attention because when she planted the sapling she tried to explain the special ingredient, but people mocked her. Insanity, they had said, tapping their heads.

Within weeks the tree was larger than any tree others planted at the same time and within months the evidence was incontrovertible: excrement worked. Specifically, the decomposed contents of the Gama family lavatory.

For Lifuwu, which like other towns in Malawi struggles to eke out a living from the soil, it has been an astounding discovery. A substance associated with smells, flies, embarrassment and disease has been proved valuable. People prefer to discuss other things at the dinner table, village councils and world summits, yet its management what is crucial to development. Safe disposal is a health priority, but Mrs Gama's tree shows there is also economic potential.

Organisations such as WaterAid want to integrate that potential into promoting clean water and sanitation to create a circle of hygiene, health and income.

Bigger crops yield from human manure could ease the poverty and malnutrition of African farmers unable to afford commercial fertilisers. But convincing them to use it is tricky: excrement is usually left in the bush or buried.

The idea is for each latrine to have two pits, about a metre deep. After each use ash and soil is thrown on the waste to prevent odours and accelerate decomposition. When one pit is full, usually after six months, it is sealed and left to decompose while the other pit is used.

When the second pit is full it is sealed and the first one is emptied of what is by now compost (dry and odourless, no sludge) and then used again. Ash is cleaning agent which kills germs on handling. The pits are shallower that traditional ones and less likely to contaminate the water table or collapse during flooding.

This is ecological, sustainable sanitation, or EcoSan, in development jargon. Some communities are accustomed to planting trees, pumpkins and vegetables on abandoned latrines, but the systematic recycling of EcoSan is new. Changing the fundamental part of human behaviour is a radical step for traditional communities. In Malawi, the discussion is softened by using euphemisms for defecation such as kusoma or kuzithandiza rather than the forthright kunyera.

"This is mainly Muslim area and there has been some resistance, but the closer we work with the families the more ease they become" said Boyce Nyirenda a WaterAid worker.

In lifuwu it was easy, thanks to the self-confidence and pragmatism of Mrs Gama, 45 who shrugged off mockery and suspicion to build the town's first EcoSan in her backyard.

"The same people who said she was mad now come asking for advice about how they can get such a latrine. Everything has changed when they realised it did not involve directly handling faeces"

Alifa Mwenyenguzu, 50, was also an early convert and watched his pawpaw tree zoom 11ft and yield fruit after one year. "Its been a big surprise to ma and my family. It's grown so fast I've had to cut some of the branches off. A devout Muslim, Mwenyen guzu saw no conflict with his beliefs and traditions. Some people throw too little ash and soil after use; some parents bar their children from the using of the "prestige" toilet; some men prefer to urinate anywhere; some pits become so popular with neighbours that they fill quicker than expected. But the system is taking roots as the communities see the benefit.

Under WaterAid scheme, applicants are expected to contribute labour and some of the materials to the latrine. No one is forced to take EcoSan and traditional latrines are offered as alternatives. Despite their basic conservatism, communities have proved remarkably cooperative.

In neighbouring Mozambique, villages such as Muita are emulating Lifuwu. The young headman, Manuel Orad, 22, need little encouragement. "The latrine makes total sense" he said. "Three months after my family got one, the rest of the village followed us. We're waiting now to see what impact it will have on our plants."