We can't let a Green Revolution leave Africa Behind

Why has the green revolution bypassed Africa? A recent article on the global food crisis in National Geographic said that cassava production in central Africa was down 3%. Average cassava yields in many parts of Congo are stuck around 7 tons per hectare. A devastating viral disease often cuts that average even shorter. These depressing facts might lead you to conclude that techniques that boosted yields in Asia and India just don’t work in Africa.

You would be wrong! Agricultural scientists HAVE come up with highly productive alternatives for rural households in the DR Congo. On cooperating farms in the Lusekele area right now, new disease-resistant cassava varieties produce on average 3 to 5 times more than the regional average. Almost invariably when Lusekele farmers tell their stories of no longer having food shortages in their village, or finally having enough to keep their kids in school, or buying a small farm, or putting a tin roof on the church building, the story starts with the revolution of planting high-yielding, disease-resistant cassava varieties.

The basic innovations for a revolution in Congolese agriculture exist. What is missing are dedicated and knowledgeable people willing to serve as bridges, allowing God’s bounty to reach the people who desperately need it. If I were allowed to dream and had $2 million per year, I would unleash 1,000 agricultural extension agents, each working with 30 village groups. Put a manioc multiplication field in every village and you have 75,000 acres of planting material. Over three years you could have planting material available in every village. By the end of five years, every farm family that wanted the new varieties could have seed cuttings for their own fields and they could be on their way to a new life.

We don’t have a million and a half dollars. But God has given us enough to demonstrate what can be done . Partners in churches in North America have provided $26,000 a year to mount a campaign. Over 7 years Lusekele extension specialists Philo Bidimbu, Philippe Kikobo, Taflo Tanzusi and others have worked with 220 farmer’s associations. In most cases they simply have given farm families their first chance to try out high-yielding varieties of cassava peanuts, cowpeas and oil palms. They have organized 382 cassava multiplication and demonstration fields. Over 1000 farm households have established over 300 hectares (750 acres) of small-scale oil palm plantations, the first of which are beginning to generate additional family income.

The impact is measured by changes in villages, changes in families. Kibongo and Longo, villages formerly known for food scarcity and hard times, are now exporting manioc surpluses. All but one of Fala’s nine children are in school and the oldest has started university (a rare opportunity for a village kid.) Pastor Kikumbula’s parish at Lubidi roofed the church building with money from their manioc multiplication fields. Antoine Lemba’s experiments with new manioc varieties have inspired young people to think again about staying in the village and making a living from farming. Moliambo farmers parlayed success in manioc production into a small business making chipped manioc.

Paul tells the Philippians that Christ “did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant.” (Phil 2:6,7) Timothee Kabila and the Lusekele extension staff have adopted that attitude. The world accords no special honor for working with poor village people. The pay is lousy and the conditions hard. The world would have been content to leave people in traditional poverty with limited opportunity, ignorant of the bounty that God has already prepared for them. The disciples of Christ could not. They are bringing a secure food supply to Bandundu province, creating the opportunities for kids to get a better education, and generating surpluses that make it possible for families to improve their lives.

Philo Bidimbu -- a month of telling Congo's story

Last Friday Philo sent us an e-mail. She was waiting for the plane that would take her home to the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Physically she was spent, achy with a minor flu, ready to be back home. She remarked on the gulf that separates life in the US and life in Congo. Still, she said, each of our peoples has something to share with the other.

Philo traveled from California to Washington, D.C., from Iowa to Florida, serving as a farmer-ambassador from the Lusekele Agricultural Development Center and associated farmers to the Foods Resource Bank network of supporters and missionary farmers in North America. A small project called Micro-DEVRU has made a huge difference in the lives of semi-subsistence farmers in central Bandundu, thanks to the commitment of the Foods Resource Bank network, even through the hard times of this past year.

Two weeks ago Philo (seen here with translator Timothy Chapman) were in Washington to give testimony to a House sub-committee. This was a rare opportunity for an African woman who works everyday with semi-subsistence farmers to comment on how US foreign aid is spent in Africa, in Congo. Maybe that rare perspective can be the catalyst that shifts the thinking and practice of all those incredibly bright people in Washington. Imagine using power and wealth to help African peasant farmers to end famine, to create opportunity and to nourish hope.

If you don't know about Foods Resource Bank, check out their website: http://www.foodsresourcebank.org/.
It brings together North American farmers with a heart for the world and Christians with a vision for creating food security and new economic opportunity for marginalized farmers in impoverished countries. You can be the hands and feet of Jesus in rural communities overseas. FRB has a remarkable talent for multiplying missions dollars to make a lasting difference in the world.

Philo invited to speak to a House committee

Philomène Bidimbu is a gifted rural extension worker. She has spent over 20 years with ACDI Lusekele helping Congolese villagers to discover new ways of farming and to prove for themselves the benefits. She is competent, confident and works in rural development as a vocation given by the Lord.

This week she will join the Congolese ambassador to the US as part of a panel appearing before a House of Representatives' subcommittee discussing development aid to Congo. It is an unlikely opportunity. For a short time on Wednesday she will have a chance to express the hopes of traditional farmers and the vision of committed Christians for a different Congo than we know now. The technology for change is available: new disease-resistant varieties that could double yields of key staple crops are available right now. What lacks is the political will to mobilize funds and organization for putting them in the hands of farmers.

God has put Philo in this position for a reason. God has advocated from the begining of time for health and wholeness, for help for the poor. Now Philo has her chance to give voice to that advocacy before the representatives of wealth and power. Pray Wednesday morning for her. May she shine with God's message.

Home base Keizer -- 2009-2010

Last Monday afternoon we drove into our driveway in Keizer, the early evening sun dropping in the west. Three colorful flower pots hung over the front porch and two red and white geraniums flanked the door. Inside the house was bare, characterless. But a small circle of warmth lay on the kitchen counter next to the phone book -- three welcome notes from our church family, close supporters and Thelma, Helen and all the mission ladies of the Miriam Noyes Circle. A welcome backed up by a fridge full of the essentials and two cupboards full of staples -- insurance against starving while putting our house in order. After seven days, starting with that small circle of warmth, our house for the next 12 months is beginning to take shape as home.

What a beautiful reminder that we are never alone in our mission to Congo! Our work is made possible because all of these other people share a part of the call. Some pray. Some share words of encouragement. Some help us to evaluate past accomplishments and chart future work. Some provide financial support. Some challenge us by example and unflinching word to go deeper in our walk with the Lord. And undoubtedly some will pick us up when we fall and put us back on the road.

This coming Saturday, July 18, we gather with the members of our missionary partnership team to map out a plan for the coming year. Two weeks later we join missionary colleagues for an evaluation and planning conference at Eastern University. Pray with us, that we may live with grace, serve others with love and glorify God, the father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Why walk in somebody else's shoes, when you can drive?

“[Christ's] answer [to me] was: ‘My grace is all you need, for my power is strongest when you are weak.’ I am happy, then, to be proud of my weakness, in order to feel the protection of Christ’s power over me. . . . For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Cor 12:9-10

Most of us have a distorted view of weakness. Americans inhabit a wealthy and powerful nation. Money protects us. Military might protects us. Law protects us. Knowledge and information protect us. Not always perfectly, for sure. But we go into the world with a laudable confidence that we can change things for the better. With money, materials, know-how, courage and enthusiasm we can get things done, and done quickly.

It’s not at all surprising that we tackle our call to mission with the same confidence, optimism and energy. We do trust God. We do expect God to transform people and their world. But we also trust our money, our insurance, our government’s protection, our technology, our far-reaching support structures. In the process, we may lose track of which power is at work. When some of the wealth and power are stripped away, we might be surprised to rediscover the amazing truth in the Lord’s answer to Paul, “My grace is all you need, for my power is strongest when you are weak.”

Literacy for Family Well-being is the Baptist Church of Congo’s adult literacy program. We work on a largely volunteer basis in a country that has never heard of the volunteer movement. It is a movement of poor people working with limited means to help other poor people, almost always without pay. It is a shoestring operation. It has no office, no full-time paid staff, no film star sponsors, no long-term project money and NO CAR.

No CAR?!!! What do you mean, “No CAR” ?? How do you get around? How do you ever get things done over the distances you have to travel? Wouldn’t you and Rose be able to reach a lot more people if you had a car? Why would anyone want to walk in somebody else’s shoes if you could drive to your destination in a fraction of the time? These aren’t unreasonable questions, especially if you come from a place like southern California.

But sometimes strengths turn out to be big liabilities. In Congo, a car, especially a personal one, represents big bucks. If I come to a meeting of literacy volunteers riding in a car but don’t bring gifts, I am saying to people, “There’s big bucks in this . . . but I’m not going to give you any.” Then everybody spends all their time with me imagining how big the bucks are and trying to wheedle some of them out of me. Nothing I have to say or do will get through to them. By losing the car, there’s a chance that, even with my “rich white American” skin, they can hear me and we can do something together to the glory of God.

Remember, too, not a single one of my Congolese colleagues has a car and jealousy is a powerful distraction. A car gives status and comfort. If I think it is essential, why shouldn’t my colleagues think so too? And if there’s not enough money for that, not having a car could become an excuse. “But we don’t have a vehicle…” At that point, we all have strayed away from the vision God gave us: helping people to build better lives through literacy. Instead we have begun to focus on our own status and short-term comfort. We are no longer able to accomplish what God wants us to do.

So I get around the capitol the same way my colleagues do: by taxi and fulufulu, that jam-packed taxi-bus that is a standard feature of African cities. It’s less safe, crowded, hot and uncomfortable, and usually takes extra time. You have to stand out in the hot sun a lot. And you have to be quick in the scramble for a seat when the taxibus pulls in.

In the Kwilu River area I get around like everyone else: by foot or by bicycle. Getting to a village 30 miles away can take all day, and you’re sweaty, thirsty and exhausted when you get there. I can’t carry very much. From our American perspective it’s inefficient – that’s a lot of down time for a high value missionary.

Sometimes these shoes don’t seem to fit me that well. But they are the shoes my colleagues wear every day. Not having a car begins to make sense. It frees us to concentrate on essentials instead of on chauffeurs, parking or car vandals. In the walking, I begin to understand their world, their needs, and often their powerlessness. Because I’ve paid the fares, had the same trouble finding transportation, and walked or bicycled the paths, I know exactly what they’re up against and we can plan realistically. I see the everyday heroism of organizing literacy classes and supervising them.

Jeannette Mbaba, primary school teacher, our teacher, trainer and supervisor from Molembe has health problems, but she’s incredibly dedicated. The distances she travels on foot to conduct literacy classes and supervise beginning teachers are staggering even to an American used to walking. Over savanna, down and up steep paths, across rivers on precarious log bridges: I’ve walked with her.


Or Jonathan Mazabi, the laypastor at Kimwenge, who has the gift of gracious willingness. He teaches his fellow villagers and acts as a go-between for us with his bicycle. I’ve bicycled past his village. These people are my heroes. They’re the reason we’re doing great things in Congo.

Perhaps it’s not so surprising that working in the way of our Congolese colleagues to achieve their vision for their people frees them to do so too. Seeing them accomplish what God has inspired them to do is worth all the discomfort.

But the American in us constantly pesters us: “Couldn’t you do a lot more for the Kingdom if you just showed a little less weakness?” The answer shouldn’t surprise us too much either. For all its weakness, the Literacy for Family Well-Being program of the Baptist Convention of Congo is the biggest, most dynamic, most experienced literacy group in the DRC’s national literacy campaign. About 125 Baptist churches have regular literacy classes. Since 1999, they have trained 1660 literacy teachers. Volunteers in local churches offer 240 neighborhood literacy classes and teach about 1700 people to read every year.

Walking in our colleagues’ shoes rather than driving up in the car, gives everybody a chance to see God’s power to shape, heal and transform this world. And that should never surprise us.

What happens in the off-season?

What do Rose Mayala (our coordinator) and I do between literacy teacher trainings anyway? (Besides the administrative details of reading, tabulating and responding to teachers’ reports, doing financial reports, etc?)

Well, we’re combing our environment for recipes to make all sorts of things, writing them down for classes, translating short articles, writing brochures and booklets, writing project proposals, lobbying the national assembly, and preparing to meet the governor of Bandundu Province.

Since we returned from our teacher training trips at the beginning of April, I have been writing a brochure in Kituba on menopause: its symptoms and how to reduce them. Most of our students are women. This brochure adds a much-needed follow-up to our booklet on reproductive health issues. I also have been correcting and editing a Kituba translation of the Navigators’ lesson booklet on discipleship.

The literacy lobbying campaign is serious. A member of the provincial assembly who is a friend of our work has urged us to meet with the governor of Bandundu as soon as possible. The purpose is to acquaint him with the need for adult literacy in his province, what a successful program will require, and what the CBCO literacy program could offer. I have been writing an introduction to the program, describing our aims, our strengths and the elements that would increase chances of success for an adult literacy campaign in Bandundu Province. A meeting will not happen before I leave for US assignment this June, but Rose can do it without me.

When Rose returned to Kinshasa in April, she submitted the registration forms for provincial classes that missed registration in December. In theory, the government will pay literacy teachers a modest stipend. Rose continues to follow up on the registration process for all our provincial classes with the government office for adult education. Meanwhile some of our teachers have been staging protests over the time it is taking, and we, in the region, have been trying to “put out the fires”.

Rose and some of our Kinshasa supervisors have written a proposal for the post-literacy activities* mandated by the UN-orchestrated literacy campaign. The L.I.F.E. program formally opened in Congo this February. Our literacy teachers have been lobbying the National Assembly for its full implementation.

For years we have felt that “functional literacy” is a proper goal of any good literacy program. But it is also one of those aspects that we have considered ‘way beyond our reach’ except in a most abbreviated way. Now with the new UN program, it’s required of all “players” in this national literacy campaign.

What this means practically is that in the second level of our classes we must introduce participants to all sorts of literature that is relevant for their lives: biblical, medical, agricultural, legal, bureaucratic, culinary and mechanical. And then we must teach them how to use it. Never mind that simple, relevant literature is often not readily available, however sorely needed. So we’re scrambling for material, writing a lot of it ourselves, so that our teachers who have limited knowledge themselves have something to work with.

Here in Africa in particular, the mandate of functional literacy is especially to learn/teach knowledge and skills that will move students out of poverty. So we’re looking especially for things that could provide a livelihood. Everything has to be tried out in class. Teachers must learn as well as their students. Teaching some of these skills require equipment: for example, scissors, needles and sewing machines to teach sewing skills. All require materials. And all this requires a lot more money than we have to operate with. Hence the political dimension that has entered our work in the past year.

Rose is also pushing UNESCO to start the second phase of the literacy campaign with the Twa Pygmies of Central Congo. Last July UNESCO sent Rose and her group to promote literacy classes among the Twa in Inongo, a provincial town by Lake Mai-Ndombe. The Twa warmly welcomed the initiative. Now they are eagerly waiting for the promised literacy teacher training so that they can launch classes -- it has been almost a year. Failure to follow through on the promise would be fatal to the fragile confidence that was built in that visit.

You can see that we are faced with enormous challenges and perhaps enormous opportunities. It is a lot more than I dreamed of, anyway, when I responded to the appeal of CBCO urban women for literacy classes in 1995. Keep us in your prayers, and think of what you could contribute for a better life for your sisters (and brothers) in Congo.


* After analyzing past literacy campaigns in many environments, the international community has concluded that merely teaching someone from a non-literate background the mechanics of reading, writing and calculating is not enough. Too few people move independently from the simple deciphering of single words and basic sentences to being able to exploit the power of literacy. The UN literacy campaign focuses on the “post-literacy” phase of “functional literacy”.

Functional literacy means being able to read and calculate well enough to read anything that crosses your path in order to be able to use what’s relevant to you in your daily life. Similarly, a person has to be able to write well enough for the needs of their environment. It means being able to exploit the wealth of ideas and information encoded in print in order to improve your life.

Chief throws his weight behind literacy

Ever since I heard, in January, that Chief Massanza, the head administrator of Luniungu Secteur*, wanted to sponsor a literacy teacher training seminar for his secteur, I was bemused. Why would a government figure ever ask us for a training seminar? At the same time it was an opportunity not to be missed. We had already done several training seminars in his secteur (Bengi 2004, Molembe 2006, Mukinzi 2007.) Other villages were clamoring for individual seminars of their own, but we cannot afford to import our training team from Kinshasa to help individual villages. As chief for the whole secteur Chief Massanza had the power to require remaining villages to attend a central training and to contribute the food necessary to make it happen. A Luniungu teachers workshop would move us toward the goal of saturating a rural area with classes, much like has happened in Kinshasa. When the concentration of classes increases in an area, it creates energy and enthusiasm, and increases the chances of success for individual classes and teachers. And it also would help us launch a local team of trainers, reducing our dependence on Kinshasa trainers.

Chief Massanza seemed eager, anxious for this training in the frequent phone calls. I wrote him about our conditions for seminars. Not a problem. What had motivated him? When we got to Luniungu the end of March, he told us.

His pastor father had educated his numerous sons well. But he thought his daughter was better off unschooled and illiterate. Then last year Chief Massanza had seen his older sister reading a Bible. He was astounded. This was wonderful! How had it happened? Well, her friend, Thérèse Kininga, (trained in our Mupulu workshop, 2003) taught her in her reading class in their village of Kindela.

He thought this was a wonderful isolated initiative for development. Then our lady in Mukinzi, close by, told him that, no, there were lots of these teachers and classes all around his secteur and other villages in the region, and that it was coordinated by a Baptist pastor’s wife in Kinshasa and a missionary woman in Lusekele, not far away. Best of all, it was Christian. Each lesson includes a Bible lesson. What was there for an earnest Christian and member of the Bible Study League not to like? As chief for his secteur, this would be an important step for development in his secteur too. (He hadn’t even heard yet that Congo has officially opened a national campaign for adult literacy this year.) This he had to have.

As you see, above, Chief Massanza not only made it possible for 43 other people from several villages in his secteur to be trained as teachers, he and his wife also took the training. And a literacy class started in their settlement the same week, thanks to our hyperactive fellow trainer, Raymond Mafuta. The CBCO lay-pastor shown in front is teaching it. Will the chief and his wife teach classes themselves? I’m not sure. I’m betting she will. He may be too busy. What’s sure is that he will do everything he can to support and spread this literacy movement in his jurisdiction. …Because he saw his sister’s life changed.


* the secteur is a local government entity similar to a county in the US.