The land looks – no, it feels – tired. It has been two months since the rains, described as “too little”, fell. The trees are sullen and most grass has been nibbled to the roots by the ubiquitous goats and cattle. Any they missed has been burned by the sun. Everywhere though plowing is going on; the farmers getting up at 3 to urge (coerce might be a better word) their 6-cattle teams to drag the 1-furrow ploughs through the hard ground before the heat of the rising sun hits. Most ploughed fields will lie fallow until the rains come in March, at which time families will hurry out to their land to plant seeds – corn (mostly) and beans. But some of the smaller holdings are being sown now – smaller indicating a size that can be watered easily since the water must be carried, sometimes a long way, from local ponds or the remnants of dried up streams. And it’s common to see people out in fields whacking away at the cement hard ground with primitive hoes, trying to eke out a plot for growing enough to see them through…..it’s an ageless cycle.
But all this takes a toll, especially as the population continues to climb. Imagine 43 million people (7 million more than Canada) crammed into a land mass half the size of Ontario. People are running out of room. The countryside is criss-crossed with trails, some made by humans, others by cattle. (I sometimes wonder how many acres of trails alone there are in the Mattangwe area. This is land that isn’t any good for growing food or providing habitat for wildlife….just hard-packed earth, miles of it.)
I have been training two young men, Dan and Brian, in how to do bird counts and how to band. They are fast learners. We took a matatu to Usenge, which is on the coast of Lake Victoria, around 30 kilometers west of Bondo. A matatu is an old (some are ancient) 12-seater van that has been modified to accommodate as many people that can be packed in as possible. I mean this literally: on the way back to Bondo we had 22 people crammed in, not including the driver and “tout” – the guy that takes the money. Several didn’t have a seat and simply leaned over the passengers in the bench seat – very uncomfortable for all concerned but especially for the young woman who had an armpit in her face. [Of course this is strictly against the law and there are police checkpoints at regular intervals along the highway to guard against this. But here’s how I saw it play out: approaching a checkpoint the tout squeezed in, laying over the passengers on the bench seat immediately behind the driver. He managed to slide the side door shut and then open a window. With his butt against the door he stuck his hand out the window brandishing a 100-shilling note. The patrol officer took the bill and waved the vehicle on. It was as simple as that – and this goes on all over the country. Just think of the thousands of shillings that go into police pockets every day – especially since matatus are the major form to transport for the masses. But I wonder what would be said if there was an accident with people killed….which would be likely.]
I first visited Usenge two years ago. At that time there was an extensive papyrus bed where a river runs into Lake Victoria. The water, having percolated through the reed bed was clear – unlike most water sources I’ve seen in Kenya. And in the small bay, eaten out by the river in flood during the rains, there is a thriving business of men filling 5-gallon jerry cans with the clear water. These will be “trucked” (by mule-drawn carts or heavily-loaded bicycles) to subscribing households to the tune of 10 “bob” (shillings) per container – about 12 cents. The river water is still clear but I wonder for how much longer. Much of the papyrus has been cut down or burned and small garden plots containing tomatoes and vegetables have taken their place. It’s just another example of the human onslaught on the natural environment.
As we walked around the area I was struck by the accommodation that birds have had to make to this human intrusion into their natural world. Under normal circumstances birds such as Little Egrets and Glossy Ibises, Long-toed and Spur-winged Plovers, birds that would flush while you are a long way off, allow a close approach, sometimes within 10 meters. After all, the small pool of water must be shared with cattle, goats and humans all of which pass each other all day – so no need to fly off, just make way and wait your turn. At one point we were able to get within 20 meters of Grey-crowned Cranes, a species now considered to be endangered. They were feeding at the end of a tomato garden plot, where the garden met a small marshy area. They didn’t seem to be bothered by us in the least.
My favourite area around Mattangwe is a big flat shortgrass plain that floods in the rainy season. Here and there it is dotted with the very occasional acacia. It is habitat for a wide variety of birds: Senegal, Crowned, Caspian and Spur-winged Plovers (or Lapwings), Grassland and Plain-backed Pipits, Whinchats (a long-distance migrant from Europe or Russia), Temminck’s Coursers, Helmeted Guineafowl, and Silverbirds. At the foot of the plain is a river, in the wet season, and a series of muddy pools in the dry season. The residual moisture it maintains creates a thick ribbon of shrubs. In the evening flocks of weavers and bishops move along it looking for a good place to roost. A few evenings ago we set up two nets to try and tap into this movement. At dusk a flock of 45 Southern Red Bishops (and a bat) hit the nets. We banded under a full moon using headlamps to see the bands and read our measuring tools.
But this area is also under assault. Many acres have been plowed, something I hadn’t witnessed in the past two years. Farmers are taking a chance: if the rains are heavy their seeds will drown and all their hard work go for naught. And, of course, if flooding occurs (and I’m assured it will) then a lot of topsoil will get washed into the stream and proceed on to Lake Victoria, twenty kilometers away.
The walk from the road in Mattangwe down to the flood plain is both beautiful and relaxing but you can’t help but notice that many trees have been hacked down, ostensibly for firewood for immediate use or to be processed into charcoal for the lucrative markets in Bondo or even Kisumu. (Charcoal production is a major source of deforestation in the country – in many third-world countries.) What is striking, and most disturbing, is that this destruction doesn’t seem to be accompanied by the planting of tree seedlings. There seems to be little thought for the future. (One of the projects of a local woman’s group that I helped form and am supporting is to grow tree seedlings for replanting – 30 “bob” per seedling seems a small price – a very small price – to pay for the preservation of this magical area.)
We have been interspersing banding activities with a lot of censusing – we are contributing data to e-bird (or at least I will be once I get a good connection – today I entered a 40 bird list but it took almost an hour!). And we are contributing our count data to the Kenya Bird Map Project. The country has been divided into “pentads”, 5 minute squares (of latitude and longitude) for reporting purposes. To date there has been no data contributed from the whole of Nyanza Province (where we are). We have preliminary counts from 6 pentads and pretty intensive data from the pentad that houses Mattangwe.
The Mattangwe Bird Club continues to thrive meeting weekly to catch and band birds. Dan Odhiambo has lead the group and has been doing a great job. He has received support from Amondi Christine and Brian Omondi. They have carried the “importance of birds” message to two other schools as well – introducing students to guide books and binoculars and to the beauty of a bird in the hand.
It’s an uphill grind for sure….but the grind continues.
