Living Water

It’s the dry season in Ghana right now; while the capital city of Accra has seen rain, it’s been dry for quite some time up here in the northern region of Bolga.

This area is approximately two hours north of Tamale, and it’s a journey of extreme contrasts. Congested city life, concrete buildings, and well-dressed men and women give way to spread-out communities of mud and grass and swollen-bellied children wearing torn clothes—or none at all.

A little over a year ago this dusty place where I am standing was under water. While the American press was busy covering the Britney Spears meltdown (remember when she shaved her head?), the “Katrina” of Ghana was happening. These far-flung villages of mud and grass were all underwater, resulting in devastating property damage and loss of life. Most communities in the Bolga region utilize open, hand-dug wells.

When the rains came, flood water filled the open wells, further contaminating the already unsafe water. A cholera epidemic was feared. LWI responded immediately, shipping a container of handpumps to the region. When the floodwaters receded, our team immediately went to work to help head off a possible water-related disaster, and to work with communities to build water management systems for the future. In the end, 62 hand-dugs wells were rehabilitated and upgraded with new handpumps.

Miguri: who’s in charge?
We’ve just dropped in one of these 62 communities: Miguri. Miguri is a small village made up of about 100 residents. I am speaking with Abzina Felix and Eloit Kansud, who are both part of the community water committee. It is clear to me that Eliot is in charge here—because he tells me he is.

It only takes a matter of a minute or so before there is a crowd of women and children around. I ask Eloit what the water here was like when the well was open – before the hand-pump was installed. He doesn’t answer immediately; I  think that perhaps this community has become so accustomed to clean water that he has forgotten what old conditions were like.

I am wrong.

Eloit begins to try to answer the question, and is immediately interrupted by a woman named Matina in the back of the crowd.

I think I get it now.

Eloit doesn’t have a clue; Matina does.

“Diarrhea, many problems” Matina tells me.

Matina is in charge
I immediately call Matina up to the front. It’s clear she is the one with answers, because it’s clear that this issue most effected the women of Miguri.

“We used a bucket and rope to rather water, so we would have many body aches, ” Matina says. I would later learn that this hand-dug well was over 32 feet deep, so the act of just gathering water did a number on the bodies of the women here (imagine lifting 44 pounds of water 32 feet, over and over again). “And there were little red worms in the water.”

Wait.

I immediately turn to our in-country partner to ask if I have heard this correctly.

Little red worms
I have no idea what they could have been, but Matina tells me that a little over a year ago the women of this community would have to screen little red worms out of their drinking water. Water gathered directly from their open top well was poured through a cloth, a shirt—anything that could catch these red worms—and into another container for consumption. The shirt helped catch what could be seen, but did nothing for what could not be seen.

Matina holds her stomach when talking about the effects of drinking that water.

But that was then, and this is now. The community of Miguri still gathers water from that same well—but it has since been cleaned, disinfected, sealed, and fitted with a handpump. I ask Matina if she notices a difference between the water before and the water now. As I do, her hands immediately leave her stomach, she smiles and begins to nod her head, “yes, yes, yes!”. Eloit and Abzina are following her lead; they seem to agree with her.

Some field notes
During the dry season, water levels can get low, so the community at Miguri has just completed another hand-dug well. It’s quite an undertaking. The second well took 9 men in the community 3 months to complete. Another local organization, worked alongside the community to provide masonry and cement, asking the community to provide gravel, sand, and labor. In the end, this second well was a project that the community was proud of—and considered their own. The community expects that this second well will bring further relief during intense dry seasons.

Ghana, like most of Africa, is still a male dominated culture. As seen in this community, women are not immediately given the voice they deserve, or have earned. Working appropriately with a community on water needs can help begin to change this. After all, when it comes to water, it’s generally the women who are in the know. The “Matinas” of communities all over the world have both earned and deserve a voice and position in leadership. Especially as it relates to water.

Ask any micro-finance organization about loan repayment. Every one of them can prove that women are more likely to repay their loans. More than that, income earned by woman is more likely to be invested back into the community. Water represents an incredible opportunity as perhaps the first step and opportunity for gender equality within communities. It may not happen as quickly as hand digging a well, but as it develops, the impact on Ghana—and Africa—will be incredible.