Maize mania

27 11 2010

We had some good rain (at last) on Wednesday night. Thursday morning I was driving around the industrial sites having taken the expensive pump back for some minor alterations (see previous post) and couldn’t help but notice the frenzy of planting activity on every available piece of land. By the roadside, vacant plots, anywhere that could possibly be cultivated was being cultivated. In some places sweet potatoes had already been planted but most were being prepared for maize. It happens at this time of year every year. Plots are carefully tended but seldom is fertilizer applied and yields are meagre, in no small part due to passers-by who help themselves. The grand irony is that the money and effort spent on this exercise would be better applied to just buying maize meal (mealie meal) out the shop. It is much cheaper.

B (not his real initial) came past the nursery yesterday morning. I don’t see him often. He is not a young man anymore and is quite a lot older than me but we have farming in common and he always has time for a chat. For many years he was farming in the Nyanga area of Zimbabwe growing apples, which being a long term crop, requires years of dedication. I knew that they’d lost a substantial part of their farm some time ago but didn’t know that they’d finally been kicked off in February.

“They arrived with a letter signed by Mutasa himself” B commented. “And what with the half dozen AKs that came along too we decided it was time to go”. It must have been soul destroying to have to abandon most of your life’s work. “But my cook, who seems to be the font of all knowledge”, he added with a chuckle, “tells me that they are stumping out the apple trees to plant maize” and he looked decidedly downcast. Then he brightened up and asked me “But how’s the rain been? You see we have been away for a couple of months…” and we were back on familiar, comforting territory.





The service-exchange deal

22 11 2010

Service-exchange in Zimbabwe works like this: I take along a pump (say) that is in need of repair and buy another pump of the same type for less than the price of the new because the business that repairs my pump will sell it on to someone else in the same manner. Get it?

 

Smart (on the left) and the pump

 

I took this photo this afternoon. That’s Smart on the left. He is the nursery foreman with a weakness for beer and very few teeth but he is just in the photo for a bit of scale. The pump as you can see is quite small and is a backup for when the power goes off. It is normally driven by a 6h.p. Lister diesel engine that is probably older than me but it does the job. The pump has 4 moving parts: a drive shaft, 2 bearings and an impeller (fan like thing that actually moves the water). Aside from the bearings it is wholly locally manufactured (amazing hey, we DO still make things in Zimbabwe!). My pump had got water into the bearings and they’d pretty much destroyed themselves together with the shaft and impeller.

Now about 18 months ago I had the gearbox in my Mazda pickup truck replaced (that’s it – the Mazda – in the background) also in a service-exchange deal. I would guess that the gearbox is not a lot bigger than the pump but it has LOTS of moving parts!

Guess which was the most expensive? Yes, you got it – the pump! The pump cost US$460 before VAT and the gearbox $400. Now let me explain why. The manufacturer of that brand of pump has been around a really long time so there are an awful lot of this type of pump around. He knows that most farmers who bring a pump to him for repair need it pretty urgently, especially if it’s attached to a diesel engine which is frequently being used when the power is off (also frequently). He also knows that few of us would be interested in re-arranging all the pipes to fit another make of pump as they are usually steel pipes that are not easily moved. I could probably have sourced a gearbox from a number of places.

 





Weekend farming in the tropics

15 11 2010

Saturday. I get to work at 07h45 when a customer wants to talk to me about buying some tobacco seedlings. We chat for a while and then I go back home to try photographing the flowers I was collecting. It doesn’t work for some reason – too much light reflection or something. I get back to work at 10h30 to find that we have dropped a phase on the electricity supply and the pumps won’t run. I am vaguely concerned as it is already hot and there was power at my house when I left home (we are on the same grid). I assume that someone will phone ZESA (the supply authority) and get on with work using one of the working phases to run the computer.

By noon the sweet potatoes are wilting and there is no sign of anything happening on the power front. I have a look across at ART Farm and can see the sprinklers working and I know they use a 3 phase-powered pump. It’s time to panic a little so I go across to the golf club which shares a transformer with us. They are also on 2 phases. I point out that their MCB (miniture circuit breaker) is tripping because the circuit is drawing too much power not because there is anything wrong with the MCB. We suspect there might be a loose fuse on the transformer, something that has happened before and phone ZESA. They promise to send someone around. I go home to wait – I need to know how long it is going to fix the problem and tell the duty foreman to give me a call when the team arrives. I cancel going into the Gallery Delta to chat about life and other issues and drink wine and eat cheese.

At 2p.m. I call ZESA. A team is definitely on the way, they have to fix another fault first. I call again at 3.30p.m. and at 5p.m. and get the same answer. The person on duty takes my cell phone number and promises to keep in touch but I am very sceptical that anything will happen before Sunday.

Sunday. I wake up with a blinding headache that even the strongest coffee and paracetemol will not cure. At 07h30 I go into work to see if by a miracle the ZESA lot have done something. They have not so I phone the faults centre and get another person who has had no contact with yesterday’s duty officer but he promises to send a team forthwith. I have a sense of deja vu but it is another hot day and I must do something about the now very wilted sweet potatoes in case nobody arrives or maybe they do and then the power goes off anyway. I instruct a supervisor to bring the small diesel pump over to an emergency water tank. The pump has not been run for some time so the supervisor checks the oil, which he has topped up, while I am checking the water suction. It looks like there might be too much oil on the dipstick but I am otherwise occupied. The engine is started and water sprays out the socket union (pipe join) and oil sprays out the top of the engine. My cell phone falls out of my shirt pocket into the mix of mud, oil and water. I flick it away in annoyance (with some bad language) and Kharma, who is standing behind me, takes offence. There is no socket spanner set in the Landcruiser to get the oil drain plug out so I have to go home to get one. I get back and we do a complete oil change anyway. I wipe down the cell phone and it is still working.

We connect a hosepipe from the pump to an irrigation riser, effectively putting the water into the system the “wrong” way, connect the drip system and start the pump. The duty foreman in the meantime has phoned ZESA again and they insist a team is on site at the transformer. They are not so the foreman goes to the golf club where he suspects they might be. Sure enough they are there so he takes them to the transformer. By the time I arrive at the transformer they have tightened the errant fuse holder and are performing a few other checks. They finish the whole operation in about 10 minutes. All electric pumps are running by 10h30 so I go home for a late breakfast and tend to the headache which is tormenting me.





Where have the big notes gone?

12 11 2010

Chatting, in French, to my teacher at the Alliance Francaise yesterday morning when the athletic looking fellows at the next table raced off into the car park. Two shots were fired in the vague direction of the opportunists trying to break into their car. When they came back I asked why they’d missed. They replied that there are some things you don’t do in Zimbabwe these days. I had to wonder who they were that they could fire weapons in public without having to worry too much about the police asking questions.

We settled back into the conversation about Air Zimbabwe’s woes. Shelton, my professeur de Francais, doubles up as an air steward with Air Zim. The previous day a messenger of the court had arrived at the airport to affix property in the ongoing squabble over unpaid wages. The aggrieved parties have taken Air Zim to court over the unpaid wages and the airline has had to pay – some pilots were back paid between $40,000 to $60,000 and the messenger of the court was after about $500,000 worth of property. Apparently luxury vehicles “belonging” to the senior management were confiscated along with a few buses and other assets. I had to wonder if this pay-out had anything to do with the lack of $100 and $50 bills at my local bank which is the de facto bank of the nation (see a previous post some time back). Earlier last week I drew out $2,300 entirely in $20 notes. This was odd considering in the early days of US “dollarisation” the smaller notes were in very short supply and the larger 50s and 100s were easily available.

In March next year I am likely going to Austria to see what can be done about my left knee which is giving a lot of trouble. Air Zim is usually the cheapest option to the UK but I am not sure they will still be in business. The government, which has a large share in the troubled airline, is trying to offload its shares but not surprisingly there are no takers. Very surprisingly Air Zim has just purchased two new Airbus long haul aircraft. I cannot think for a moment that Airbus gave them any credit. Interesting stuff but just maybe I will be booking on SAA or BA!





It’s bug season!

10 11 2010

With the rains come the insects. The rains as such haven’t really started but the insects can sense it’s their time to make an appearance. I always check the outside lights for interesting specimens in the morning. This moth was high on the back door yesterday but when I came home in the evening it was in Kharma’s bowl. Here it is sitting on my shoe – hardly a natural setting but certainly different!

I didn't know they were so furry! Click on image to enlarge.





Starlight Dancing 2010

9 11 2010

The Dance Trust of Zimbabwe held its annual Starlight Dancing show last month literally under the stars outside the National Ballet premises. I was invited along to take photos. I’ve also been invited to take photos of the “Stars of Tomorrow” show later this week where the various dance studios show off the youngest dancers (I guess it will be entertaining if nothing else). One day I will be paid to do this! Actually, I don’t mind doing it for free. I need the practice and a bit of publicity is good. My last year’s photos of Starlight Dancing made it onto the cover and inside of Hello Harare monthly “what’s on” publication and were credited to the wrong person!





Global Warming

6 11 2010

Early season storms in Zimbabwe can be ferocious; lots of lightening, wind and often hail without a lot of rain. This season’s storms have been unusually savage. Last night I was sitting on the verandah and I could hear the gust front approaching. It was not long before the power went off, came back on and then went off until around midday today.

The various global warming models have predicted that weather will become more extreme. Whether the ferocity of the recently experienced storms is anything to do with this would be very difficult to say but I cannot help but think that the appalling bush fires of the dry season are not helping the situation. Burnt veld of course is darker than grassed veld and therefore heats up a lot more.

In Zimbabwe dollar days we actually paid a carbon tax based on the size of the car engine of the vehicle we used. It had nothing to do with CO2 emissions or any sort of remedial action on the pollution – it was just another tax. It may even still exist for foreigners bringing their cars into the country but we found that the disc that had to be displayed on the windscreen as proof of payment was easily forged with a scanner and a bit of image processing so it did not last long. Maybe the Greeks could learn a thing or two about tax evasion from us!

Last weekend I took the Landcruiser up to Nyanga to get away from the heat and work. I did not give a lot of thought to the CO2 footprint I was generating. Paragliding was off the cards due to the storms around but I still managed to get a few good photos of flowers, this being the flower season. On the way back I went through the tail end of a storm near Juliasdale that had dumped a sizeable amount of hail on shade cloth covering a Hypericum crop and another near Ruwa that slowed traffic considerably.





After the fire

24 10 2010

Driving in to Harare from Barwick mining village on the Great Dyke this afternoon I was struck by how little of the veldt had NOT been burnt this year. It is definitely the worst I can remember seeing it. But there are a number of plants which are dependent on fire for their life cycle and some have some quite spectacular flowers. So I’d taken the opportunity this weekend of finding some to photograph. I will add names as I find them.





Tobacco seedlings

16 10 2010

I have grown some tobacco seedlings on spec this year – hoping that we can sell them without and order. In days gone by we used to do quite a lot of seedlings this way but now it’s a bit chancy and we prefer to only grow to order.

It is also an opportunity to experiment with a different method of growing seedlings – we float the polystyrene trays on shallow ponds of nutrients instead of watering them from above on wire racks. The pond method is well suited to tobacco and some years ago I did work with UNDP in Malawi converting farmers to this technique so I had a good idea how it worked. It is getting much more attention in Zimbabwe now that methyl bromide used to sterilize the seed beds is on it’s way out of use. It is damaging to the ozone layer so now with the Montreal Protocol it is being phased out. Methyl bromide is an extraordinary effective fumigant and though there are others available they just don’t do the job that well and the Zimbabwe tobacco industry has become commited to the “floating tray” technique as it’s known. That should be good news for my company – or so I thought. Having sounded out a couple of tobacco company agronomists I decided to take a chance and put in 30ha worth of seedlings of two cultivars that were deemed to be popular. I am very pleased with how well the seedlings have grown and even my landlord Tony, an ex-tobacco farmer of many years was impressed with the seedling quality. Selling them has been a bit more difficult.

So when I saw a customer looking interested in the ponds this morning I moved in for the hard sell and told him he was looking at the best tobacco seedlings in the country (with a big smile to make it more humourous). We soon got chatting and it emerged that he had been let down by the Tobacco Research Board’s commercial operation so he was indeed interested. It was also obvious that he was a “new farmer” i.e. had acquired his farm without paying for it. I am uncomfortable with this sort of setup but I have to be pragmatic – I need the money. Then Mr N arrived. He is a big bear of a man and unusally for a black in this part of the world he grows a beard. He is VERY outspoken and soon assessed the situation. He introduced himself to all around and then proceeded to make a very loud comment about “those of us who don’t have political connections” while grinning at me to emphasize the point. I did an inward wince but I am used to Mr N’s comments – he said to me once; “I am 74, what are they going to do to me?”. The tobacco customer has indicated that he will be back for more seedlings next week – so just maybe we are at the start of a new successful project.

T64 tobacco seedlings grown with "float tray" method. Seedlings shown are immature.





Paying by the letters

16 10 2010

The composted pine bark medium we use for growing seedlings is no longer available in Zimbabwe. The company that used to process it in Mutare has closed down. They claim that the increased cost of sourcing the bark from outlying sawmills (the firm in Mutare where they originally sourced it had closed) was no longer worth what the market would pay for it but I think it was more to do with the manager’s years of drinking catching up with him. Anyway, we can either source the pine bark direct from South Africa at about US$100 per cubic metre or get it from the aforementioned company (who is getting it from the same source) at around $120 per cubic metre. Another “waste” product, coir (the outer husk of a coconut) is also available from Sri Lanka at around $50 per cubic metre but we are having a few problems getting the seedlings to grow properly in it. So we must go with what we know works until we can sort out the “wrinkles”.

I ordered the pine bark from South Africa some 4 weeks ago and making the payment was almost too easy. I simply went to the bank with the invoices, filled in a form and the transfer was made the next day. Bear in mind that in years gone by transferring money to anywhere outside the country was an involved process; the money to be transferred had to be found from the Reserve Bank, applied for, and if you were lucky it went through. It could take weeks. But those days of Zimbabwe dollars are gone now and if you have the money in your account (usually US dollars) and the invoice it’s easy! Well, the transferring bit is easy as I found out.

I rather naively assumed that the transport company I was using out of Jo’burg would sort out the border clearance at Beitbridge. Well, yes they could but it seemed I didn’t have all the right documents. Yes, I did need the import permit that I’d got but I also needed ANOTHER import permit to cover the first import permit. I dashed off to the Ministry of Agriculture and applied for it. By this stage I’d enlisted the help of a clearing agent who knew all the ropes. I’d also discovered that I needed a tax clearance certificate (i.e. I’d paid all the company tax to the Zimbabwe Revenue Authority or ZIMRA) that I needed to over the last 2 years of “dollarization” – that’s US dollarization. Fortunately I was pretty much up to date on that except for a “presumptive tax”. Yes, you read that right but I should explain. We are supposed to guess how much profit the company is going to make and every 3 months pay an estimate of it to ZIMRA. In theory there are penalties for paying too little and at the end of the year it’s supposed to all balance up. It’s a hold over from the Zim dollar days when it was devaluing so fast that any tax paid at the end of the year as most civilized countries do would have been worthless. Well, I’d done nothing for this year so on advice from my bookkeeper I paid a nominal amount in for the first 3 quarters of the year (my bookkeeper was of the opinion that no-one would notice that it had all been paid on the same day). I took all the relevant forms along to an accounting firm that could “organize” for a small fee to fast-track the tax clearance certificate – I was assured it would be the genuine item, it would just take a few days instead of a few weeks to process.

The few days passed and no certificate was forthcoming. It transpired that the Business Partner number (nice phrase isn’t it – partnering the revenue authority. Right.) used to identify my company in all transactions with ZIMRA including the importation of goods did not match my company name. ZIMRA had spelt my company name wrong “Fitwood Farming” instead of “Fitward Farming” (I did not create the name – I bought the company name from an accounting firm some 11 years ago). This was a major snarl up as all the import documents listed my company with the correct spelling. This would have to be corrected and in the meantime the trucking firm would charge me demurrage for the truck that was now waiting at the border. The clearing agents told me it could be cleared without the tax clearance but it would cost me another $1100 in another “presumptive tax”. The alternative was to pay the demurrage at around $300 per day. I paid the $1100 dollars and as I type this the load of pine bark is waiting in the queue to cross to the Zimbabwe side of the border.

If the $1100 really is a presumptive tax it is not too serious – it can be offset against my company tax at the end of the year – although I did not have plans to be paying that much. Yes, it would have been cheaper to pay the $120 per cube for the pine bark in Harare!

Notes: the composted pine bark is normally a waste product of sawmills that strip the bark off the logs before sawing the planks as the bark can clog the blades. This bark is collected, milled into smaller pieces and composted in piles to reduce the acidity and make it suitable as a growing medium. This process usually takes about 3 months depending on the method. The coir we have been exprimenting with is also a waste product from the coir industry in Sri Lanka (and other SE Asian countries). The coir fibres we use are too short to weave into the mats and other products normally made from the coconut husk. It is also composted over several years but unlike pine bark has a natural ability to trap nutrients (usually potassium and magnesium) so has to be washed to make it usuable.