The Villages of Magubike and Idodi

After meager success in attempting to collect information from the Iringa regional and district offices, we were able to travel with a district extension officer to interview additional groups of farmers to get more precise data on price, variety, harvest volume, and challenges.

Upon arrival, a chair and desk-like structure yet again appeared from somewhere for me to use. This happened in Mhonda – and again twice in Iringa. While in Mhonda, I (awkwardly) sat at the front of the area in a chair and the farmers each brought in a rock or some other hard object to perch upon during our discussion. In Magubike, we met in their local bar – a thatched roof, open wall structure. In Idodi, everyone had a wooden chair and gathered haphazardly. Idodi seemed a bit upscale, as their agriculture field office also had posted a flag pole flying Tanzanian colors. The “landscaping” around the office employed a favorite aesthetic strategy of my late Army colonel grandpa, where trees and walkways are delineated by arranging a series of similarly sized rocks painted white. While the buildings were faded and more dilapidated than new, the white rocks helped to make the area look cleaner than one might realize after a longer gaze.


Stay classy, Idodi


The meeting in Magubike was the most interesting as the farmers do not work in groups – yet they verbalized challenges of not owning transport to take their own produce to the larger Dar market. This highlighted the opportunity that groups could be possible – depending on the perceived financial benefit promised if working together. They offered information willingly on average prices (which were low) for their produce and shared frustrations on poor roads and market opaqueness. The questioning took a long time, as I would ask the field officer in English, he would translate with some additional color commentary in Swahili, there would be some debate and deliberation, and then consensus would be shared to me by the officer in English. I am grateful to the patience of those farmers, who spent several hours with me, instead of tending to their daily, difficult work.

On our return drive from these villages to Iringa, we stopped at a local fruit stand, as Deo wanted to bring his family some watermelon and cucumbers since we return to Dar tomorrow. We sat by the road, eating fresh watermelon – which was delicious! Watermelon grown here is spherical in shape, not the oblong kind found in the US. Deo also asked me why I wasn’t eating the seeds, as they eat everything up to the rind. It was a peaceful end to a long day.