Friday, December 15, 2006

Luanda- A Sprawling Poverty

Luanda- A Sprawling Poverty


The first thing one notices about this city is its sheer size. A city originally built for 400,000, Luanda is experiencing major challenges in accommodating its 4 million, and growing, population. Urban sprawl is occurring at a much a faster pace than infrastructural provision. Unlike many of Angola’s problems, urban poverty in Luanda is clearly visible in all its manifestations. The ad hoc musseques (shanty towns) envelope the original city perimeter, each dwelling fighting for space among hundreds of thousands. Ownership of homes in these areas is virtually unheard of, and is replaced by a large informal rental market. According to the UN, Luanda currently has some 20–25% of the overall national population. In terms of land use, three-quarters of the occupied area in Luanda can be categorised as residential. Of this residential land, 70% is made-up of high-density musseques. A staggering three-quarters of the population live in informal settlement areas or in informal ways within the formal urban areas. It sounds strange, but these figures are unsurprising. All you have to do is look around the city. The musseques are everywhere. The walls of the dwellings are often made of clay bricks, with a small opening for a window (often uncovered), and roofing made from whatever material (tin, plastic, wood) people can obtain. Direct supply of water and electricity is not always guaranteed and areas are often bereft of any boundary between dwellings and rubbish sites. The musseques are always bustling with people, which is unsurprising given the high occupancy rates. On average, there are 3 inhabitants to a room, and between 12 and 15 per dwelling.

But, how did Luanda come to be a city of over 4million? Mass displacement due to the conflict is key in understanding its development. Internally displaced persons (IDPs), or deslocados, from the provinces were forced to flee their homes due to fighting between the MPLA and UNITA. Although, in 2002 the UNHCR reported that close to 4 million deslocados had returned home, following the signing of a peace agreement between the MPLA and UNITA, many still remain in urban centres such as Luanda. The official figure currently stands at 91,000. However, during almost thirty years of conflict, many people who arrived in Luanda as deslocados have settled with family and have no plans to return to their home provinces. What little services there are for people here in Luanda, in the Provinces the camponesos (rural people) are completely bereft of any external support, outside of family and community. Angolans have not been given any incentive to return to their homes. In areas worst affected by the war, there is limited local administrative capacity, infrastructure and basic services are virtually limited, arable land is often inaccessible because of mines, and there is a high proportion of poor and food-insecure families. Furthermore, the vast majority of the 4 million reported returnees have not returned to their homes. Many are staying in nearby villages with family and friends, as they wait for the slow and arduous task of de-mining their only route home. Angola has an estimated 10 million land mines and a population of 70,000 amputees. For those who do manage to make the journey back to their villages, they are left without basic services in health, education, and without the tools and necessary resources to work their land. In this way, urban and rural poverty in Angola are inextricably linked.




The rapid urban growth in Luanda has brought with it many problems for Angolans living here. Between 50 and 60% of the population of Luanda is living in poverty, and between 6 and 15% in extreme poverty. The vast majority of Luanda’s population participate within the informal sector, principally through informal trading networks on the streets and in market places, which makes up 45% of total employment. The dire traffic situation is welcomed by those trying to carve out an existence as street vendors. A rainbow of colour, the zunguneiras (female traders) float elegantly up and down the streets, balancing heavy loads of fish, fruit, bikinis, and many other items, announcing their presence melodically as they pass. A treat for the foreign eye, but a sad reality of income insecurity for many.

Other problems, which are less visible, plague the musseques. The high occupancy rates, together with the generally very low provision of infrastructure, lead to very unhealthy conditions. Problems with the water network, which is estimated to cover a mere 25% of the musseques, means that people are forced to buy water from large tankers, at expensive prices. The water is often taken from sources, such as the River Bengo, and leaves people susceptible to diseases such as cholera. Over the last ten years, frequent outbreaks of cholera have been reported in the musseques, the most recent being April of this year. There are also severe problems of storm-water drainage. The areas of standing water are a major malarial health risk, and also provoke water-borne diseases.

The sad irony is that just as Angola’s urban poverty problems are on the rise, much international assistance has become increasingly scarce, as donors expect the government to make use of its oil revenues, an expectation that, as of yet, has failed to be realised. In fact, the growing wealth and standard of living of the few who enjoy the benefits of Angola’s oil-rich economy, has only served to highlight further the extreme poverty of the majority of Luanda’s residents. But the situation isn’t bad for all of Luanda’s residents. Between 1995 and 1998, alone, the incomes of the richest 10% of the population rose 43% while those of the poorest households dropped 59% in this period, a figure which has most certainly risen since the opening up of the oil sector.

Despite the increased economic progress of the country, Angolans continue to face serious challenges to their economic, social and political development. As the population in Luanda continues to grow, so too will its many problems. Luanda’s poverty is a sprawling one.

Tuesday, December 5, 2006

Visit to Caritas Health Posts, 28th November 2006



Before we make our return journey to Luanda, Caritas have invited us to visit two of the health posts they developed and currently manage in Kwanza Sul. After a long and devastating war, health services in Angola suffer much. Less than 30% of Angolans have access to adequate healthcare. There are 8 such posts, which are staffed by a trained health promoter and pharmacist, and some with a nurse. Prior to the Caritas posts, many of the communities in the area relied upon the government clinics, which often have ill-trained and unmotivated staff, have too large a target community, and are sometimes closed for lengthy periods. Caritas Sumbe, recognising the need for an effective health service, developed a plan to construct these health posts. The major causes of mortality in the province are malaria, acute respiratory infection, and diarrhoeal diseases, whilst one in four Angolan children won’t live beyond their fifth birthday, giving Angola one of the highest infant mortality rates in the world. The health posts provide various services, such as; maternal and child healthcare, pre-natal care, immunisation, and diagnosis and management of diseases. They trained staff to man these posts, and now provide an important source of health provision and education to over 100,000 people in their targeted areas. Additionally, Caritas has a strong volunteer culture, with dedicated members of the communities trained as health educators (educadores) who provide house-to-house visits.







The first post we are to visit is in an area called Cayepa, which is just 22km outside of Sumbe. The clinic is located in a little village (aldeia) of about 12 houses. As we drive through the village toward the white one-storey building, we attract the attention of some children, who quickly assemble on the steps of the clinic. We are met by Sr. João Kassanje, the clinic’s health promoter, and Sr. Fiudmau Andre, clinic pharmacist, who greet us warmly. Sr. Kassanje takes me on a tour of the clinic, beginning in the reception area, which has a table and chair for registration, a bag attached to some scales for weighing infants, and a small bench providing a seating area for patients. After a patient registers here, they are taken to the consultorio, a little room off to the right, where Sr. Kassanje will examine patients and decide upon a course of action. The pharmacy is located on the other side of the reception area and contains two cases of shelving and a large cabinet. Caritas inform me that a key problem for the health posts at present is the lack of proper refrigeration facilities required for the vaccines. These are quite costly, but essential for the clinics. Another problem faced by the health posts is the Government’s new policy whereby, the Caritas trained health promoters must receive government training and a certificate before the government will consider paying their salary, which is a key objective of the Caritas health programme to ensure sustainability. However, often the quality of the government training is far less than that of Caritas, and the Government has at times redistributed Caritas staff to other health clinics after completion of the training. It is a difficult situation for them, but one which they continue to advocate on at provincial and national levels.


Outside the clinic, we meet with two of the clinic’s educadores, Sra. Amerciana and Sra. Isabel, who are responsible for health education within the community, and regularly receive training from Caritas on key health messages, which they then distribute to the community. They are currently working on the Global Gift programme, offering advice on proper utilisation of the mosquito nets and providing information on malaria transmission and prevention. Both women are extremely dedicated to Caritas Sumbe. Before leaving, I take some photographs of the clinic, Sr. Kassanje and Sr. Andre, two educadores, and the children (much to their delight!). They’re excitement and laughter when I show them their photograph on the digital screen, is really heartening, each taking their turn to point to themselves.

After saying our goodbyes in Cayepa, we begin our journey to Sector II. The layout is similar, with the clinic located in a small aldeia. Sector II is more rural than Cayepa, as we travel a distance off the main road to reach it. This time, the clinic is manned by one person, Sr. Jucuio, who acts as health promoter and pharmacist. I receive a similar tour and he talks a little about the same two problems. Our time is short here as we must make the 500km return journey to Luanda. However, I leave feeling I’ve gained a better insight into the work of one of Trocaire’s partners at a community level.

After having spent the last 9 months working for Trocaire in Maynooth, it is so refreshing to see the programmes, meet the partners, and see the impact that both have for many people.

First "Real" Encounter of Angola, November 27th 2006

one section of a large banana plantation as you enter sumbe
Since I arrived in Luanda, almost everyone I meet offers the same advice, “You must travel to the Provinces, if you get a chance”. Others have said, “Luanda isn’t Angola”. For my first trip outside of Luanda, I would accompany Martina, Trócaire Angola’s Programme Officer for Civil Society Development, to Sumbe, the provincial capital of Kwanza Sul, just under 500km from Luanda. We were to visit our partner Caritas Sumbe on a two-day trip to discuss the proposed global gift project; distributing mosquito nets and providing much needed education and information around malaria prevention and transmission.

We left Luanda at 5:30am, avoiding the early morning rush-hour. Heading south, the views became more and more panoramic, as we drove alongside the Atlantic. Before leaving Ireland, I had heard many stories from people who had been overseas about 12 hour car journeys through barely-existent roads, where it’s more a case of “where’s the road?!” than “dodge the pothole”. Indeed, I was aware that much of Angola’s infrastructure had been devastated by the war, with road and rail networks no longer available in many parts. Flying is often your only option when travelling to some places. However, I was to be spared such an experience. The road was pretty good, with one part newly resurfaced, just one of the many contracts awarded to the Chinese companies now in Angola, who are guaranteed 70% of construction contracts coming from the financial relationship extended by China to the Angolan government in the form of billion dollar loans. As we pass a group of workers, I am surprised to see one Angolan sporting a conical straw hat. This is a rare sight for two reasons- first, and what seems most obvious, an Angolan wearing a traditional Chinese hat is not something you see very often, but secondly, a common feature of the Chinese construction industry in Angola, and other countries such as Zimbabwe and Sudan, is its near-total reliance on Chinese labour and materials. Angolans are not benefiting in employment terms from this new development programme.


As we journeyed further into the country, I began to see a different side to Angola, a much slower-paced, serene and colourful environment. We passed villages with traditional huts in groups of ten or more. Small children played with each other. Further on, some fields came into view, where women and older children were busy collecting fire wood, planting seeds, and fetching water. Along the road side women were walking up and down, carrying baskets on their heads, water, fish, fruit, vegetables; some to be sold, some to feed their families. There were stalls selling fresh produce, men sitting near a stream selling what looked like Dublin Bay Prawns, and Marovo, “the wine of the palm trees”. The roadside was full of energy.

Martina pointed to some fields, which were lined with large concrete posts acting as a fence. She began to explain that these were often an indication of land-grabbing, which has become a key problem in Angola. Since the end of the conflict in 2002, tensions over land ownership have increasingly arisen between residents and internally displaced people (IDPs), and between commercial farmers and pastoralists. Many small farmers have been disenfranchised by the more powerful commercial sector, often with Government support in the form of a land tenure policy which heavily favours the latter. The problem is evident as we pass a number of large commercial plantations. It is for this reason, among others, that the development of an effective and independent civil society in Angola is of the utmost importance. I look forward to meeting with Trocaire Angola’s key civil society partners, who are spearheading Trocaire’s Civil Society Development Programme.

The coastal city of Sumbe is a strange mix of Portuguese colonial style buildings, high-rise apartment blocks, and mud-brick houses. The road into Sumbe is quite picturesque, with a large banana plantation lining either side. The pace of life, however, is much slower than what I had experienced in Luanda. Traffic didn’t seem quite the same issue! People seemed much more relaxed and calm, with much less confusão! My initial feeling of Sumbe was a good one. We arrived at the Caritas Office.

Caritas is a network of 162 Catholic relief, development, and social organisations across the globe, of which Trocaire is the Irish member. Trocaire works through Caritas in many parts of the world, and particularly in our emergency work. Caritas Sumbe has been one of our partners in Angola. We were met by Sra. Lourdes, the Coordinator of the Global Gift project, and later joined by Sr. Abel and Sr. Julio, who are responsible for finance and administration, respectively. They began to discuss the distribution of the mosquito nets and the progress of the education component, which is carried out using radio, educators, and community theatre, in local languages. In the recent past, Caritas Sumbe successfully constructed and developed 14 health posts, staffed by health promoters, with some boasting a nurse. Often the Caritas clinics are the principal health service providers for these communities, outside of traditional healers, as some of the government health posts are often closed for periods. We would visit two such posts the following day.

After a day of discussions, we took a walk around Sumbe. It was evening time, just before dusk, and Martina, Albano (one of Trocaire Angola’s drivers), and myself strolled along the sandy streets towards the Marginal (sea front). We passed a statue of Agostinho Neto, the first President of Angola (1975-1979) and an acclaimed poet, a common feature in almost all cities in Angola. Neto was an important leader of Angolan resistance from exile during Portuguese colonial rule, a figure, as their “first” president, the MPLA continue to use in their current PR agenda. The bust of Neto was closely followed by a mural of Che Guevara, it’s peeled and faded appearance a soft reminder of the past socialist aspirations of the now oil-focused ruling elite. As we neared the sea front, more and more of the buildings took on a Portuguese feel; large cream and white houses with numerous verandas and terracotta roofs. One building, in particular, just on the corner of the Marginal, sits proudly on ample grounds, with a security post outside the well-secured gate manned by an Angolan soldier.

We return to the Caritas office, where we spend the night in the Caritas guest house.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Arrival in Luanda, Angola, Saturday November 17th 2006

With my eight and a half hour flight from Heathrow almost at its completion, I looked out my window as we began our descent into Luanda. It was to be my first time in Angola, indeed Africa. As I glanced around the cabin at my fellow passengers, I realised I had already had my first experience of being in the minority. I was one of twelve women on this flight carrying over two hundred passengers. As Africa’s second largest oil producing nation, producing 1.6 million barrels of crude oil per day, Angola has become a key commercial destination for the extractives industry. With conflict only ending here four years ago, Angola’s economic boom is captivating. Angola is awash with natural resources from oil and diamonds, iron ore and copper, to gold and bauxite, to name but a few. A country of vast wealth, and yet, it was recently ranked 161 out of 177 countries worldwide in the UN’s annual Human Development Report. As we broke through the thick cloud cover, which hugged the city and made our final descent, a sea of make-shift housing revealed itself. Thousands upon thousands of these tiny part-mud-part-concrete units enveloped the city, almost spilling onto the runway, separated only by wire fencing and sporadic segments of wall. This is not surprising when over 53% of Angola’s population is urban, a trend that began during the war as those in the rural provinces were forced to flee from their homes and livelihoods to urban centres. I suddenly realised, what people meant when they spoke of “two Luandas”, something I was sure would become all too familiar by the end of my time here as the Trocaire Angola intern.

The air was thick with a sulphur-like scent as we waited on the steps for the bus to take us to the terminal. Palm trees dotted the red sands surrounding the airport and hundreds of high rise buildings dominated the skyline beyond, many of which were only partly completed. The first thing that struck me was how quickly daylight had arrived, as I used my hand to shield my eyes and gain a better view of my surroundings. Once we arrived at the terminal, I joined the crowd at immigration, and passed through rather quickly. I was able to take in much more during the drive from the airport, again, the great disparity in wealth glaringly obvious. Informal traders selling everything from fruit to exercise equipment lined the streets, waiting for the traffic to come to a standstill (sometimes not!). Traffic here seems to defy all logic, well any “logic” I have been used to. A hummer screeches past, the driver sporting a pair of Channel’s latest eye-wear. Wealth and poverty are really two extremes here, where income inequality is a key issue. While poverty levels continue to increase the IMF recently reported that expenditures of the richest 10 percent of Angolans have increased during the same period leading to a wider gap in income inequality.

My first evening in Luanda was spent at the house of a friend of Trocaire Angola, where I met some Angolans over drink and food. The main topic of discussion was the cost of living in Luanda, and the lack of economic security. Luanda is a diverse city, in residential terms, with the vast majority of the population living within the slums or “Musseques”, and living on less than $1 a day and within “illegal” settlements. Meanwhile, the wealthiest members of the city are buying properties, averaging in the millions. Another begins to talk about the many unfinished buildings around the city, some of which have the same crane standing by their side for over 30 years. After gaining its independence from Portugal in 1975, Angola fell into a bloody conflict, as groups, the MPLA and UNITA being the key antagonists, fought for control of power and the future of the fledgling state. The development of the city and the people has suffered greatly. I leave wondering what my first week in Angola will bring.