Anatomy of a Shallow Well Part 1

Today was a whirlwind of a day. I was sitting at home, reviewing the requirements for my University of Waterloo work-term report when Foster, my counterpart and host-father bursts into the house clad in motorcycle gear and says, “Danny, we must go see the well. Time is against us.” So I strap on my motorcycle helmet and we jet off to Mwambazi, a village in the Timbiri Traditional Authority (TA), the same TA in which we live. It’s there that World Vision, an NGO that needs no introduction has funded the construction of a conference centre and nursery, and has hired Foster to install a shallow well to provide safe, clean water to the facility.

When we arrive, it turns out time wasn’t against us, and we are the first there so Foster shows me the well shaft which has already been dug and lined with bricks and cement mortar. Fairly quickly the rest of Foster’s construction team arrives and we get to work. The first task is mixing the cement with sand, gravel and water to obtain the correct consistency.

 

 

While the mixing is being done, Foster calls for the housing for the pump. The one provided for this job by World Vision is an Afridev model, a fairly standard and durable pump. This pump is however designed for boreholes and not shallow wells. The housing has 3 legs with jut down and are wide enough to support it in a borehole, but not wide enough for a shallow well. To compensate for this Foster places the housing in a hole, and fills it with sand. This will allow him to build the concrete skirt which protects the well above the level of the legs, which will simply hang down into the well.

Normally the Afridev pump is used for boreholes, which are narrower wells dug by a drill rigs. Boreholes go much deeper and are able to tap aquifers which are unreachable by hand dug wells. In the case of this well however the aquifer is very close to the surface, only two or three meters down and, as Foster puts it, “You could use anything to reach this water.” The Afridev is very durable, efficient at pumping and spare parts in the case of a breakdown are more readily available than any other pump model, that’s why World Vision has chosen to use it for this installation. It is however more expensive.

Next bricks and a sheet of plastic are laid down to give the apron shape, and the region is filled with concrete.  Segments or rebar are added to the concrete, to increase it’s strength and flexibility. Once the mould is filled, Yolam Kamanga, Foster’s Nephew (who has also been trained as a Marion Medical Mission Maintenance Assistant for that NGO’s water points) smoothes out the layer.

Next, moulding for a second layer is added, and a shelf is created out of the concrete. This will allow a spillway to be added after the concrete sets so that water drains away from the pump and doesn’t lie stagnant allowing mosquitoes to breed.

The concrete takes approximately five days to set so we won’t be returning until Tuesday to move the apron over the open hole and complete the rest of the concrete “civil works” which surround a protected water point as well as install the pump. So there’s still much to do. Tune in next time for part 2!

To see all the pictures from today, have a look at the link below:

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Daniel

Reach Out and Touch

It's Sunday June 20th as I write this, and I’ve just finished eating dinner with my host mother and host cousin Aaron. Aaron turns on the TV because the second featurette in a series that the only public television station in the country, Malawi Television (TVM) has just started. The program is called Reach Out and Touch and the commentator tours around rural communities in a particular region of the country, this particular episode featured the northern region, and interviews people living in vulnerable situations such as child headed households, people in need of and without access to medical care and the elderly living in poverty without community support.

The program does not actively ask for donations to any particular fund or organization, but instead to the featured individuals directly. Bags of maize are bought to feed children, wheelchairs for the infirmed and hospital bills paid for those who are ill. The program is only broadcast in Malawi, and all donations come from fellow Malawians. It is interesting to see that, at a time when foreign NGOs such as EWB are running programs based on “building capacity” instead of building dependence and thus avoids hand-outs, the program created by Malawians to address their own country’s issues does the opposite.

Daniel

I’m Breaking the Habit

Habits are one of the universal human qualities. No matter where you go in the world there are always repetitive things to be done on a day to day basis and being habitual is so hard wired into our humanity that even things that aren’t necessary, or good for you become bad habits (I was so thoroughly convinced that coming to Malawi would be the end of my nail biting, but alas old habits die hard).

I know that back home in Canada, the most habitual part of my day was definitely the mornings going through the same little cleansing rituals before I was ready to start my day: brushing, washing, soaping, scrubbing, rinsing, conditioning, shampooing, shaving, after-shaving, trimming, moisturizing, dressing then nourishing. Eventually even continuing on to classes on campus becomes habitual and some days a little bit mundane. I can definitely say that I have yet to have a mundane day in Malawi. However some things never change, and my mornings are just as habitual as ever, and they last about three times as long.

I wake up in the morning, usually to the sound of roosters and light rain on the corrugated aluminum roof and tie up my mosquito net to protect it from chicken damage, as there are particular poultry around the house that seem partial to my room, and laying eggs in my bed. Then I make my bed and throw on the clothes I was wearing yesterday.

Still bleary eyed I stumble outside and sit with my aunts in our kitchen as they heat bath water for the kids, and Loveness, my host cousin sweeps debris in the yard with a dry-grass broom. The kids in the family all have to get off to school, so they are first to bathe, scrubbing themselves down (or sometimes being scrubbed down by Mrs. Longwe, my host mother). They then get dressed in their blue and yellow, or blue and white school uniforms, get a piece of bread in a plastic bag, or a bowl of rice thrust in their hands and they’re off down the path. Finally my bath water is heating.

Being almost a head taller than anyone in my family makes bathing slightly challenging. There is no running water in Mpamba so a bucket of warm water is taken into a small brick stall with a chitenje curtain and a piece of corrugated aluminum covering half the top.  Unfortunately the stall is only about 4 and a half feet tall, so I find myself squatting low over the bucket rinsing, soaping and rinsing again. In Malawi I’ve lost the luxury of conditioning, shampooing and all these other niceties of my old bathroom. Amazingly one bar of soap does it all, it makes me wonder why I waste money on all these other products. 

After bathing I towel dry and quickly scurry back to my room to get dressed for the day as it’s chilly in the mornings, and usually drizzling (the rainy season doesn’t really end until August). If it’s one of the rare days I’m off to the district water office in Nkhata Bay Boma (the district capital) for a meeting to which CCAP (my partner organization) has been invited I throw on my black “bwana[1]” dress shoes, slacks and a dress shirt, but most days it’s jeans, flip-flops and a golf shirt for field work.

Going back out to the kitchen, I try and help my aunts prepare the second batch of breakfast and they shoo me away. About 20 to 40 minutes later a hot piece of chigumu[2], a steaming bowl of rice or a plate of hot boiled sweet potatoes and cassava is in my lap, always accompanied by a cup of tea and the question, “you don’t take sugar!?”.  Something I seem to explain almost every morning.

After I’ve finished eating and brushing my teeth with lightly chlorinated water from my water bottle I walk into town with Foster to his shop, where his wife has already opened for the morning and either wait for a minibus to Mzuzu or Mpamba or meet with Ben (another area mechanic) and Chance (a health surveillance agent) with their bikes to do some surveying around Timbiri, the Traditional Authority (TA) that Mpamba lies within.

Once my day is underway it’s been about three hours from me waking up, which is considerably longer than waiting in line for a residence shower that I used to dread back home.

-Daniel

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[1] Boss in Chitonga

[2] Malawian corn bread