Nguluwe

VILLAGE MZATI: Mercy Jaleke

“This is what I was longing for – it's an opportunity that has been brought to me.”

If she weren't so down to earth, Mercy Jaleke might seem irritatingly perfect in the motherhood department.

Her tidy brick house with its thick roof of fresh yellow thatch is one of the nicest in Nguluwe. Her five elementary school-aged kids are first or second place in their classes. Her first daughter attends a competitive government high school in the capital.

Her approach to raising top scholars is best described as “old-school.”

“I always give them breakfast and make sure they come straight home from classes for lunch.”

Her husband checks their school work. Mercy herself never got to go to school. Political oppression in the 1970s sent her family into exile in war-torn Mozambique. By the time the family returned, Mercy was too old for primary school.

“My heart breaks to think about how I did not make it to school. I am consoled that my daughter is doing so well in high school. The younger ones can look at her and see her as a hero.”

This year, though, a disastrously bad harvest threatens to unsettle the well-ordered life Mercy has built for her children. She figures there is enough maize to last until October, or perhaps November if they are careful. She has yet to account for December, January and February, when next year's crops will still be ripening in the fields. She didn't know how she would pay her daughter's school fees, which come due in January.

When she learned about CARE's plans for village savings and loans groups in Nguluwe, she saw it as her best shot at keeping her daughter in school and food on the table.

“I am ready to participate. I would like to venture into the restaurant business. It is possible because I believe it is the will. Where there is no will you can have the money and not do anything. So I am willing.”

“Mostly, people who do things together stay together. They have love for one another. We live in harmony with each other.” – Black Ching'oma, group village headman, Nguluwe

The people of Nguluwe came late to Kasungu. By the time they arrived in 1967, prime lands close to trading centers and schools had been taken. Settling beside a river, they cultivated the land and set about building a place where they would be happy to stay.

Young men built guitars and banjos from cowhide, cooking oil tins, branches and baling wire. In the evenings, people came from around the community and beyond to listen and dance. The village became known as a place where there was music, and the bands were hired to play in other towns. Men and women enjoyed the music and it made them proud of their birthplace.

“Because we have the bands and the drama group, when we are together it is an opportunity to build the community,” says Black.

But, though the music brought the people of Nguluwe closer and boosted their spirits at night, it could not drive away the hardships they would surely face with daybreak.

The nearest school was three miles away. The clinic and trading center were over six miles walking. People were dressed in rags.

It wasn't until recent years when traders moved closer to Nguluwe and women became involved in small businesses that life began to improve in the village.

“There is change, though it is small because of the size of the businesses,” Black says. “Some didn't have clothes, now they are dressing smartly. Some people have houses with iron roofs, which was not the case in the past.”

Watching the small successes of businesswomen add up in significant ways, the leaders believe that, with just a little bit of capital, their modest village could become a center not just of culture but of trade too.

“We want a stable, well-established market within the community so most women could have their businesses right here, rather than to depend on the other markets,” Black says.