Mewtee, 4157 Ranaka Street, Randfontein (2024)

13/11/2023

Turkana stone beads tell a story of herder life in a drying east Africa 5,000 years ago

On the shores of Lake Turkana in east Africa, about 5,000 to 4,000 years ago, pastoralists buried their dead in communal cemeteries that were marked by stone circles and pillars. The north-west Kenya “pillar sites” were built around the same time as Stonehenge in the UK. But these places have a different story to tell: about how mortuary traditions reflect people’s environments, behaviours and reactions to change.

The burial sites appeared at a time of major environmental and economic change in the region. The Sahara, which received enough rainfall 9,000-7,000 years ago to sustain populations of fisher-hunter-gatherers and pastoralists, was drying, causing groups of people to move east and south. Even in eastern Africa, lake levels were dropping dramatically; grassy plains were expanding. Around Lake Turkana, people began herding animals in addition to fishing and foraging.

At several of the pillar sites around Lake Turkana, archaeologists have found that hundreds of people were ceremonially interred under large, circular platform mounds. Many of those individuals were found wearing remarkable colourful stone beads, some as part of necklaces, bracelets, earrings, and other jewellery worn, for example, around the waist. These beautiful personal ornaments include blue-green amazonite, soft pink zeolite, deep red chalcedony, purple fluorite and green talc, among other minerals and rocks.

I study relationships between humans and their environments, especially at times of major economic transformations, using scientific techniques applied to archaeology. I recently led a team of experts in geology and archaeology of the region to conduct the first comprehensive mineralogical analysis of the Turkana stone beads.

mineralogical analysis of the Turkana stone beads.

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The focus of our study was to discover what types of minerals and rocks the early herders had used to make adornments, and where these materials came from.

This kind of information can tell archaeologists about the role of artefacts in the society that used them.

Wearing beads
Humans have been making and wearing beads for over 140,000 years. Beads are one of the oldest forms of symbolism and are often used as adornment in a culture. Wearing something on your body is an expressive choice that can have many meanings, such as protection, acknowledgement of friendships and bonds, status or role in society. Personal ornaments like beads may indicate a common cultural understanding.

Analysis of beads in archaeological sites has shown that we can learn many things from them.

At the Turkana pillar sites, the stone bead tradition was clearly important, partly because of the number of beads found accompanying burials, and partly because the practice persisted for hundreds of years.

Knowing the range of materials helps us understand landscape use in the past: where people were buried, where they watered their animals, seasonal movements for grazing, special yearly trips to significant places and other movements. Pastoralists recorded or marked their worlds by what they left behind and what they took with them. Patterns in the composition of the bead collections may indicate there was communication and exchange of objects across the region.

Sorting the stone beads
Of the six pillar sites that have been excavated by archaeologists, three have yielded substantial assemblages of stone beads: Lothagam North, Manemanya and Jarigole. Our team began by sorting the stone beads by site, and by their mineral and rock types.

Our study identified the mineral characteristics of 806 stone beads. We looked at properties like specific gravity, crystal and molecular structure, and the characteristic emissions that are particular to certain minerals.

What we found was a strikingly diverse set of beads that varied by site. The visual characteristics of some of the beads – colour, lustre and so on – may have made them particularly valuable or had a special meaning economically, socially, spiritually or symbolically. Their source and workability may also have given them a certain value.

Pink zeolites and turquoise amazonites were the most common stone beads at the site of Lothagam North, comprising over three-quarters of the assemblage. This was very similar to the site of Jarigole, located across the lake. The sites are hundreds of kilometres apart, with Lake Turkana in between – suggesting a cultural connection between them.

In contrast, the kinds of beads at Manemanya were different: mostly softer and paler pink and off-white calcite beads that were quite large. Further, while at Lothagam North there often were just a few beads found with any individual, one person at Manemanya was buried with over 300 stone beads and over 10,000 ostrich eggshell beads.

This suggests that although having stone beads was a commonality across the sites, distinctions – and distinct meanings for different people – did exist.

Sourcing stones
We also wanted to know whether the beads were produced from local sources (within a few days’ walk) or acquired through long-distance journeys or trade. Sourcing allows us to partially reconstruct how the earliest pastoralists moved around the landscape during the year.

A survey of the areas west of Lake Turkana and a search of the published literature on the geology of the region identified places where these materials might have come from.

There are possible sources for most of these materials within about 150km of the pillar sites. Limestone rocks may have been procured easily near the lake. Some of the tougher materials, like the chalcedonies, could have been carried to the lake area by rivers, to be picked up perhaps by someone watering cattle or fetching water from a stream. Other minerals come from a specific source. The variety of bead types demonstrates that people knew their landscape well.

Sometimes, they went out of their way to get certain minerals, or perhaps traded for them. The closest known sources for amazonite and fluorite are, respectively, 225 km, in southern Ethiopia; and 350 km, near the modern city of Eldoret, Kenya.

These suggest that bead making was not just a casual affair; material selection was intentional.

Local landscapes
Early herders in the Turkana Basin obtained materials from both local and distant places, and shaped them into personal adornments. These stone beads were placed with the dead, in numbers and combinations that differed by individual and place. We don’t yet fully know what they meant – but future research in the Turkana Basin will continue to explore the lives and legacies of these pioneering herders as they negotiated new environmental and social landscapes.

-By Carla Klehm
Research Assistant Professor, Center for Advanced Spatial Technologies, University of Arkansas (The Conversation)

23/08/2023

Zimbabwe election: Can Nelson Chamisa win? He appeals to young voters but the odds are stacked against him.

Nelson Chamisa, the 45-year-old leader of Zimbabwe’s main opposition party, the Citizens Coalition for Change (CCC), is making a second bid to be Zimbabwe’s next president.

A lawyer and a pastor, Chamisa is the most formidable candidate against the ruling Zanu-PF led by President Emmerson Mnangagwa. The incumbent took over after the coup that ousted the country’s founding president Robert Mugabe in 2017.

Chamisa is over three decades younger than his (81-year-old) opponent, and the youngest person running for president in this election. His youthfulness has been a major issue in this election, as it was in the last.

At least 62% of the population is under 25. They are “born-frees” who feel the brunt of Zimbabwe’s failing economy. The actual unemployment rate is unclear; some claim it is as high as 80%. The government claims it is 18%. What is true is that many of Zimbabwe’s youth eke a living in the informal sector, estimated to be 90% of the economy.

Many young graduates have settled for being street vendors or have taken the dangerous illegal track across the crocodile infested Limpopo River to find work in neighbouring South Africa. Others with some financial means seek work overseas, even if it’s below their qualifications.

It is to this demographic that Chamisa is speaking directly. He promises the young a total revamp of the economy. His messaging often includes glossy pictures of high-rise buildings and modernised highway networks that stand in contrast to many dilapidated roads and buildings in Zimbabwe.

As a political scientist who focuses on voting behaviour, migration and social media, I think Chamisa would have a more than fair chance to win in a truly free and fair election. He resonates with the country’s large disenchanted youth, mainly because of the poor state of the economy. However, campaigning in autocratic conditions is not ideal for the opposition. His and his party’s weakness are also serious hurdles.

Youth appeal
According to the independent African surveys network Afrobarometer, 67% of Zimbabweans are unsatisfied with the direction the country is taking.

In its recently released election manifesto, the Citizens Coalition for Change promises to transform Zimbabwe into a US$100 billion economy over the next 10 years. The World Bank puts the country’s battered economy at just under US$ 21 billion.

Chamisa defines himself as a social democrat who believes in providing substantial welfare. His party’s manifesto promises universal healthcare and basic education. He also promises to open Zimbabwe to international trade and re-engagement, ending over 20 years of isolation. The country was suspended from the Commonwealth and excluded from debt relief programmes due to ongoing human rights abuses.

Zimbabwe was once Africa’s breadbasket but can no longer feed its small population of just over 16 million people.

Chamisa’s appeal to the youth vote has been received along partisan lines. For supporters of the ruling party, he is too young, too naïve, too western-leaning, and lacks liberation credentials. For his support base of mostly young urbanites, Chamisa’s youth is his trump card. They have turned the age mockery from Zanu-PF into a campaign slogan, “Ngapinde Hake Mukomana” (let the young man enter the state house).

Chamisa is popular, as shown by huge attendance at his rallies. But will this be enough to help him win his first election as the founding leader of CCC?

Voter apathy, funding and harassment
Chamisa and his party face a number of hurdles. The first is getting the youth to vote.

Youth political participation in Zimbabwe has historically been very low. Although the election body, the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission, is still to release a full voter’s roll, analysis by the Election Resource Center shows that while 85% (6.6 million) of eligible voters are registered, only a third are under the age of 35.

In addition to voter apathy, Chamisa must contend with other hurdles within the opposition movement and the usual obstacles of running for office in electoral authoritarian state.

Chamisa founded the CCC following his forced exit from the Movement for Democratic Change (MDC) in 2021. The married father of three had been mentored by the opposition movement’s founder, the late Morgan Tsvangirai. But Tsvangirai’s death in 2018 ended Chamisa’s career in the party as divisions grew between him and the old guard.

The formation of the CCC helped him draw in a younger generation of politicians like Fadzayi Mahere. But it also opened up Chamisa to new problems. The CCC has little money against Zanu-PF’s elections war chest.

Chamisa lost access to state funds and opposition institutions when he left the MDC. His departure also left him with few friends at home or abroad.

He argues that what some see as disorganisation and isolation is strategic ambiguity. He claims that his party keeps its cards closely guarded against infiltration and manipulation.

Chamisa has valid reasons to do so. The ruling party has successfully co-opted opposition leadership by offering patronage. The ruling party also uses courts to their advantage and violence against opponents.

In 2007, in the months leading up to the election, Chamisa suffered a fractured skull. In 2021, his party reported threats to his life when his envoy was attacked using a homemade bomb. Members of his party have been beaten up, and others have even lost their lives. Job Sikhala, a senior member of the opposition, has been in jail for over a year on unclear charges.

One man show
Chamisa’s vagueness on policy adds to his challenges. On the social platform X, where he has more than a million followers, he regularly only shares Bible verses or ambiguous messages. This is a lost opportunity for a candidate counting on the youth vote.

His party structures are unclear and it has yet to release its constitution. The only formal position in the party is his position of president. Everyone else is known only as a change agent.

Chamisa has not announced a running mate. This feeds into rumours that he has weak leadership skills and prefers to centre power on himself. One might even wonder if he does not trust his supporters.

Still, those supporting him say they do not need to know his structures. Zimbabweans are hungry for change after four decades of Zanu-PF rule. Many who hoped for change after Mugabe’s ouster are dismayed by the continuing economic challenges and increasing militarisation of the Zimbabwean politics. For these voters, Chamisa is the change they hope to see.

- By Chipo Dendere
Assistant Professor, Africana Studies, Wellesley College (theconversation)

25/07/2023

Lions are still being farmed in South Africa for hunters and tourism – they shouldn’t be

A man was arrested at the OR Tambo International Airport in Johannesburg, South Africa, on 23 June 2023 with five lion carcasses in his luggage. He was about to board a flight to Vietnam, where the use of lion bones in traditional medicines is practised.

The seizure is commendable but highlights South Africa’s controversial legal industry of breeding lions in captivity. Wildlife researchers Neil D'Cruze and Jennah Green, who have studied lion farming in South Africa, share their insights into the industry and explain why it should be shut down.

Why are lions being farmed?
Lions have been intensively farmed for commercial purposes in South Africa since the 1990s.

These wild animals are exploited as entertainment attractions for tourists, like cub petting and “walk with lions” experiences. Others are used for “canned” trophy hunting, where the lion is hunted in an enclosed space, with no chance of escape.

They are also used for traditional medicine both in South Africa and internationally, where their body parts, particularly their bones, are exported to Asia. They’re used as ingredients in traditional Asian medicine, such as “wines” and tonics. These would usually contain tiger bone, but lion bones are being used as a substitute.

They’re also sold live.

What does the lion farming industry look like?
According to official records in 2019, around 8,000 lions are being held in over 350 facilities in South Africa. In contrast, the current wild population in the country is estimated to be about 3,500 lions.

Some farms also breed other big cats, including tigers, cheetahs, leopards, jaguars and hybrids.

The exact number of lions and other species on commercial “lion farms” across South Africa, however, is unknown. The industry has never been fully audited and not all farms are officially registered. In addition, corruption and a lack of proper record-keeping make it difficult for authorities to manage the industry and ensure facilities comply with the law.

How is the industry regulated?
A major problem is how the lion farming industry is being regulated in South Africa.

At a national level, governance of this industry has fallen under a patchwork of legislation including the National Environmental Management: Biodiversity Act and regulations around threatened or protected species. With national and provincial concurrence, the regulation of the industry falls to the provincial nature conservation authorities.

But, as there is no centralised national system, transparency and enforcement is difficult. This results in grey areas that cloud the legality of the industry and its associated activities, contributing to confusion and noncompliance throughout.

Likewise, at an international level, lion bone exports are regulated under the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (CITES). But the industry has been under scrutiny since 2019, when a high court in South Africa declared the lion bone export quota unconstitutional – due in large part to animal welfare concerns.

Consequently, since that time, the CITES export quota has been deferred, resulting in a “zero quota”. This means that lion skeletons cannot be legally exported for commercial purposes. And any subsequent exports originating from lion farms are illegal.

Why is this industry a problem?
Lion farming in South Africa is controversial.

The industry has been estimated by some to contribute up to R500 million (US$42 million) annually to the South African economy. However, in 2021 a high level report compiled by relevant experts (including traditional leaders, lion farmers and scientists) highlighted that the industry posed a risk to public health (because of the potential transmission of zoonotic disease and lion attacks), “does not contribute meaningfully to the conservation of wild lions”, and was tarnishing the country’s reputation with “political and economic risks”.

This led to the Department of Forestry, Fisheries and the Environment announcing its intention, which cabinet later adopted, to immediately halt the “domestication and exploitation of lions, and to ultimately close all captive lion facilities in South Africa”.

But nothing has changed. The captive breeding and canned hunting of lions has continued.

What should be done about the industry?
The minister’s public announcement of South Africa’s intention to stop lion farming was a defining development regarding this controversial industry and its future. However, in late 2022, a ministerial task team was asked to “develop and implement a voluntary exit strategy for captive lion facilities”. This was the first time the word “voluntary” had been used in public government communications on this issue. It raised serious questions about whether the government was wavering in its stated intention to end commercial captive lion breeding.

It is highly doubtful whether a voluntary phasing out alone can halt the commercial exploitation of lions and establish a process to close lion farms as recommended in the high level panel report. Instead, it should only be considered as an initial step. There should be a strategy which includes a mandatory time bound termination of the lion farming industry in its entirety.

Until then, to aid enforcement agencies and their efforts, lion farms should be required to stop breeding more lions and stop their canned hunting operations.

- By Neil D’Cruze
Global Head of Wildlife Research, World Animal Protection, and Visiting Researcher, Wildlife Conservation Research Unit (WildCRU), University of Oxford, Jennah Green
Wildlife Research Manager at World Animal Protection, and Visiting Research Fellow, Manchester Metropolitan University

21/07/2023

Tanzania’s gas boom that never was – when local hopes are dashed by global realities.

Rising international commodity prices can shape or reshape the fortunes of places. When large mining and oil and gas prospectors suddenly show an interest, a remote area can become a resource frontier – a place that’s far from the socioeconomic centre of a country but important to its economy.

High commodity prices throughout the late 2000s and early 2010s resulted in new regions of the world being explored for hydrocarbons. One of these areas was off the shore of southern Tanzania, in Mtwara.

Between 2010 and 2015, Mtwara went from a backward periphery to the forefront of Tanzania’s gas sector.

Mtwara is a region in the far south of Tanzania, on the border with Mozambique. Historically, it has been geographically isolated through poor infrastructure from the rest of Tanzania. The local population has felt overlooked by both colonial and postcolonial governments, with the southern regions historically performing more poorly than their northern counterparts.

My research in Mtwara explored people’s expectations in response to the extraction of natural gas, and how factors like commodity price cycles and mining life cycles influenced the political economy of development – in short, the way that politics and economics interact and affect each other.

It became clear during my research that the gas industry was expected to speed up development in Mtwara. The imagined future of Mtwara changed from moderate expectations to one of increased wealth and prosperity.

In effect, the creation of a resource frontier changed expectations of what development would bring for people on the frontier, and how quickly it would happen.

These expectations were not met. Natural gas prices fell from US$16 per million metric British thermal unit (MMBtu) in 2009 to US$4 MMBtu in 2017. Oil and gas companies mostly lost interest in Mtwara and related sectors collapsed.

Remnants of the expected boom, such as half-built hotels, higher food prices and a more reliable electricity supply, remain. But many of the jobs have gone.

This research adds to an understanding of how natural resources interact with development. In Mtwara, it was less the resources themselves that caused the boom, but rather the anticipation of a future gas boom. When it failed to materialise, the area suffered a very real bust. This possibility is something that resource-based development strategies need to take into account before major extraction even takes place.

The anticipation
In Mtwara in 2018, I interviewed a variety of people, ranging from local business leaders, politicians and community leaders to villagers and people who used to work in the supply sector to the gas industry, about how development had been influenced by the gas sector. Be it discussions around the 2013/14 pipeline protests (against the construction of a pipeline transporting gas from Mtwara to Dar es Salaam) or electricity infrastructure being built, it quickly became obvious that everybody, in one way or another, had a story to tell in relation to gas.

But the interviews made it obvious that two communities in particular were affected by the gas sector: local businesses, and people living closest to the onshore extraction sites, in an area called Mnazi Bay.

I found that people expected natural gas to cause an economic uplift, and it was this that prompted considerable investment in the region.

Investment focused on supply sectors. Mtwara lacked any internationally certified hotels, catering companies or other amenities for oil and gas staff. Real estate and construction also rode this wave of investment.

Politics also influenced this. The ruling party in Tanzania, CCM, harped on this promise during the 2010 general election. The party’s campaign slogan – “Mtwara will be the new Dubai!” – was repeated to me throughout my time in Mtwara.

Mtwara became a frontier for international and domestic capital. A future fuelled by hydrocarbon wealth seemed assured.

Alongside political promises, the communities of Mnazi Bay had the impression that the gas industry was already having a positive economic impact. Roads were being improved, electricity infrastructure was becoming more reliable and expanded, and people were getting jobs in supply sectors for natural gas. They expected this to continue, and to obtain compensation for land being used by the gas sector.

Within just a few years, Mtwara’s economic prospects and imagined future had been dramatically entwined with international gas prices.

The reality
But by 2015, the gas prices that had made Mtwara a resource frontier in the early 2010s had reversed. The sectors that had done well during the presumed boom were hit the hardest.

Hotels that were constructed to accommodate high paying oil and gas employees now had to change their business model and cater to lower-paid locals and seasonal cashew traders. Cashews were the bedrock of the local economy before the discovery of natural gas. A number of half-built hotels remain across the city, particularly along the coastline.

In my interviews, villagers close to the onshore extraction tended to discuss development going at a slower pace than during the “boom”. Sacrifices, such as giving land to gas infrastructure, did not result in increased development, and many jobs turned out to be temporary construction work that disappeared with the bust.

What’s more, the industry left environmental effects such as pollution and destruction of cash crops.

An unwritten social contract had been broken.

Perceptions of what gas could bring in the future changed. Gone was the belief that gas would accelerate development. The pace of development was seen to have returned to “normal”, meaning the pace before the discovery of gas.

The economic potential is still there, but the low global prices of the late 2010s ensured that the sector would not play a role in economic growth.

The changing energy landscape
Historically, Mtwara had been at the margins of the global economy, acting as a supplier of raw cashew nuts. With the discovery of natural gas, the region suddenly changed into an “energy frontier”, opening it to considerable investment from both domestic and international capital. Rapid changes in the energy landscape can create and recreate frontiers quickly, and change the lives of those who live in such frontier regions.

Since this research has taken place, there has been considerable change in the energy landscape. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has pushed up gas prices, and European leaders have begun to see Africa as a potential source of natural gas. There is once again the “potential” to create Mtwara into a true resource frontier. But it remains to be seen if such rising prices recreate excitement on the ground.

- By Aidan Barlow
Lecturer, Department of Social & Policy Sciences Centre for Development Studies, University of Bath

20/07/2023

What does it mean to be ‘educated’? In Uganda it’s not just schooling that counts.

How do you gauge whether someone is educated or not? In many parts of the world, the answer relates to the level of formal qualifications they achieve when they are young – do they have a university degree? In what subject and from what institution?

This appeals to the sense that education is something earned and to the belief that schools and universities have the authority to say who is (and who is not) educated. It’s also how economists and social scientists define someone’s education level and link that to what their health and social outcomes might be later in life.

However, as journalist Vanessa Friedman has written in the New York Times, educational status can change because of the clothes you wear. She uses two examples – a jacket worn by the fictional protagonist of the 1999 film The Talented Mr Ripley and the outfits worn by disgraced US politician George Santos, a look she calls the “uniform of preppy private-school boys everywhere”. He worked hard, she argues, to appear more credentialed than he was.

These characters, one fictional and one real, are con artists. But they make an important point about the way being educated is not a settled status. It is something that can be worked on in various ways, including through the clothes one wears.

We are researchers involved in a project exploring young people’s futures in rural Uganda. As part of this, Ben – an anthropologist – conducted a study to understand what young men and women do with their education in the absence of white collar jobs.

We found many women and men, of different ages, continuing to work on their claims to an educated identity throughout their lives. They do this by wearing the right clothes, but also by joining committees, being active in church, speaking what is considered the right sort of English, and presenting their arguments in the “logical” way that those with a good education have been trained in.

These people are not Tom Ripleys or George Santoses. They are doing what they do because being seen as educated has benefits. In this part of Uganda, educated people tend to prevail in disputes and fare better with various authorities; they are also more likely to benefit from government and NGO schemes.

This shows that people can work on their educational status throughout life, and that much of the work of being educated is only indirectly tied to the schooling experience. Policymakers miss this point. They assume that formal qualifications are the best measure of educational status. But “being educated” is not only about the credentials you have: it is also about how others credential you.

Ivan and Florence
Oledai is a rural sub-parish of about 180 households near the trading centre of Ngora, in eastern Uganda. Though English is the language of instruction from the late stages of primary school, Ateso is the most spoken language. Residents engage in a mix of farm work and petty trading; some run businesses to make a living. A small number have salaried employment, typically as school teachers.
There is a difference in how young and older people work on their educational status that reflects the fact that very few older people had the opportunity to go to secondary school.

If you ask a resident in the village to take you to the home of an educated person, you might we be directed to Ivan Onai’s grass thatched house. Ivan is in his late 20s; a born-again Christian who is fluent in English. He listens to the BBC World Service to cultivate his vocabulary.

Always well turned out, Ivan serves as a youth counsellor at the sub-county and runs a youth group in the village. Though Ivan dropped out of school after his A-levels, he has cultivated the identity of a university graduate through his manners, political career and committee work. Many feel he is more educated than some of his better-credentialed peers.

Florence Akol, meanwhile, is in her early 40s and went to school at a time when educating daughters was less of a priority in Uganda than it is today. She completed only two years of primary education, but went on to raise two daughters who both attended university. Through them she has learned English. She is also treasurer of the village council and treasurer of her clan.

These stories illustrate how schools and universities throughout Uganda are important not only as places where certificates are handed out but also as referents against which ideas of “being educated” circulate more widely in society.

The experience of schooling matters as much as the practices it teaches – committee skills, competence in English, the carrying of books and pens. Committee work requires an understanding of procedure, an ability to do bookwork and, often, a degree of confidence in spoken English.

The benefit of perceptions
The wider community often discussed what made someone educated. One older woman, part of a group trying to raise money for school fees, told us that education “trims your manners and helps you think differently” and that “being educated” helped in managing disputes and getting a favourable outcome in the village court.

This could be observed as the community mobilised around the “parish fund”, a new government initiative meant to help its citizens, or the president’s Emyooga scheme targeting youth. Those appointed to positions of influence were more educated than the average, and those in committee positions had the capacity to monopolise how the funds would be allocated.

Policy implications
We believe that understanding these dynamics is key for policymakers and researchers, who (in Uganda and many other parts of the continent) define educational status through the formal qualifications a person has. They focus on the health or social benefits that come from “human capital”.

We would encourage policymakers to rethink how education is understood so that it comes to be defined as an accredited status – how people evaluate you – as well as a credentialed one – the papers you carry in your pocket.

Investing in areas that shape accreditation would be a way of helping more people access opportunities. In Oledai this might mean offering evening classes to help adults improve their skills in spoken English, or giving people access to training in the sort of bookwork that committees value.

- By Ben Jones
Senior Lecturer, University of East Anglia & Lucy Njogu
PhD student, University of East Anglia

Mewtee

13/11/2023

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