hon. kasamba, meet safina namaganda and let’s make piles of sweet money out of jackfruit (fenne)


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One of numerous fenne trees at Rwenzori Bottling Company offices (Photo by Simon Kaheru)

IN November last year I shared a story here about a young lady called Safina Namaganda that got picked up in various places high and low. Thereafter I was summoned and asked for her contact details, which I shared variously.

Sadly, I can’t confirm that anything came of it.

I remembered her again this week during a lengthy, animated chat with newly-sworn East African Legislative Assembly (EALA) Representative, Mathias Kasamba, of Kakuuto in Kyotera.

The EALA plenary had just officially opened session and we were taking a break nearby and talking through the opportunities we have in Uganda that his presence in Arusha and beyond would make a reality for his constituents – not just in Kakuuto, Kyotera, but across the entire country.

Kasamba is a straight-talking man; if you have never met him before and experienced his style of message delivery you could easily take offence at his sharp arrows but that won’t save you his marksmanship.

He is rightfully disdainful of very many people who are not doing what we should be doing – including political leaders who have no evidence of leadership beyond their titles; the so-called elite whose priorities make them little better than the ordinary peasants they look down upon; and the energetic youth whose energy does not show itself in anything that doesn’t involve betting shops, football on television, and social media activities.

Throughout the discussion, he kept going back to his pet topic, which I happen to have a keen interest in myself that has ensured it stays on my annual plan every year.

For as long as I can remember, Hon. Kasamba has been talking about planting trees. During the most heated parts of the 2015/16 political campaign period he found it quite normal to interrupt a hard discussion on political strategy with photographs and updates about how his tree seedlings were doing.

He is still the same, and within ten minutes of conversation he had whipped out two gadgets and was showing me photograph after photograph of trees, tree seedlings, and other agricultural projects he has pulled right out of the ground in his home in Kakuuto.

His consistency of messaging is admirable, and I was pleased to be the target that afternoon, as he pointed out the simple mathematics of agriculture that most of us who went to school and own second-hand motor vehicles in Kampala would be shamed to acknowledge.

The speed and confidence with which he reeled off the financials around the investments that go into various sizes of agricultural projects could bamboozle you if you are not prepared. And he went from coffee to mangoes, oranges and passion fruits with the smoothness of my favourite juice – the reason we were having the discussion in the first place.

When he segued into jackfruit (fenne) I offered him a mental standing ovation – and that is when Safina Namaganda returned to the story of life.

“People don’t know,” Hon. Kasamba said, “that if you have jackfruit you don’t need anything else!”

He had no idea he was onto one of my favourite fruits of all time, and I unleashed enthusiasm with my descriptions of its taste and recipe ideas, but he sensed – correctly – that I was underestimating the part of “you don’t need anything else!”

Hon. Kasamba detailed how every part of the fenne fruit is edible – which I agreed with and shared my own anecdotes of eating roasted seeds as a child and feeding the rind to visibly pleased farm animals. But he went further; for him the fenne tree can easily provide an income that stretches into the millions of shillings every year because the trees fruit so well regardless of when and where you plant them.

And, he explained, they don’t get cut down for decades and decades but still keep fruiting. And, most of all, provided he has them dotted all over his farm the farm workers don’t ever go hungry and stall – they gorge themselves on it and maintain high energy levels all through!

Every seed they drop, meanwhile, will give you a seedling if you plant it just days after eating the fruit. I do this often myself, and was about to boast to him that I have developed almost a hundred seedlings this way when he told him his number.

He has 10,000 (ten thousand) jackfruit/fenne seedlings ready to plant. And he is not joking about this. Even as we chatted, he texted me YouTube video links and articles about the benefits of the jackfruit/fenne.

He was amazing!

I took a very low mental bow out of that aspect of the conversation, and put myself in line for a few free seedlings from him as a point of honourable concession.

But not before offering to introduce him to Safina Namaganda; if you recall her story, that was the young lady who did a study into the nutritional values of fenne seeds and created a mixture of fenne seeds and soy that was quite popular but did not get sufficient support to sustain the project – including a consistent supply of seeds.

My fingers are crossed that one day she will have a factory established in Kakuuto, running in partnership with Hon. Kasamba’s farm and producing various branded products made out of fenne – juices, purees, canned fruit, roasted seeds, powdered forms, animal feeds…the works!

uganda: let’s delete the word ‘potential’ from our national dictionary


ON Wednesday morning I jumped out of bed as a rainstorm raged on outside trying to make it difficult for the lazy-minded to leave their beds.
I could have done with a few extra minutes of sleep that morning but the night before I had said something on a radio talk show about how unjustified it was for most of us to sleep at all, given the amount of work we needed to do to develop Uganda.
The thought that someone could call me out for spending longer in bed than I had publicly said was necessary drove me to my desk, so I was watching the storm through the window over the top of my computer as I made my day’s plan, thinking how happy the farming community must be about this weather change.
Only three people these past two weeks have spoken to me about the rains having started: My primary farming advisor (who is also my loving mother) , reminding me to make the necessary adjustments; my regular supplier of tree seedlings (@GreeningUganda), making a pitch for increased sales as per our standing arrangements; and the third, a friend’s highly energetic domestic employee, in a conversation.
This robust domestic employee, at a lunch party over the weekend, had me helping him move garden furniture because it was threatening to rain. “But are you sure it’s going to rain?” I asked him, to which he responded with a vigorously confident, “The rainy season has started. It will rain.”
The confidence with which he spoke stayed on my mind all through the sumptuous luncheon, and I thought to myself that this domestic worker must have had an agricultural background – like many of us do.
The neat, sprawling gardens in which we lunched were beautiful and vivid in colour and variety, and seeing this domestic employee flit about to and fro in the foreground of the floral compound made me wonder whether, with his knowledge of agriculture and vast amounts of energy, he would be using the rainy season to grow any crops, herbs, or spices for future luncheons to be had.
The potential of it all, I thought to myself, was massive!
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Immediately, I mentally slapped myself round the back of my head. ‘Potential’. I am a little fed up of that word, in our context.
It means, my dictionary says, “having or showing the capacity to become or develop into something in the future; and latent qualities or abilities that may be developed and lead to future success or usefulness.
 
An hour or so later, I read an article that underscored why I dislike that word so much these days.
 
Uganda has potential to feed 200 million people – US envoy’, read the headline, followed by: “Uganda’s fertile agricultural land produces a wide range of food products and has the potential to feed 200 million people in the region and beyond,” said (Deborah) Malac.
This figure of 200 million was published by the Food and Agricultural Organisation of the United Nations in August this year, and we have had tens of thousands other declarations of ‘Potential’ around Uganda.
We need to delete the word Potential from our national dictionary as soon as possible. If we don’t then we’re going to stay stuck at this Potentiality forever and ever.
Why does it irritate me?
Because we never seem to leave the Potential box and keep making headlines out of it instead of, ‘Uganda land deal boost for Centum’, as reported this week about Kenyan investors Centum buying up 14,000 acres of land in Uganda to grow maize and soya beans.
Those Kenyans are not dealing with just ‘Potential’ any more. Back in February 2011, a Centum official talked to a Ugandan newspaper about the Potential in Uganda, and today they are putting money onto the ground.
On the same day the newspapers were talking about that ‘Potential’ to feed 200 million people, I saw a news snippet about food relief being taken to the Kigezi region (for people affected by floods, not hunger) and sighed.
At that point, certain we won’t delete the word ‘Potential’ from our vocabularies soon, I stopped fretting over its existence.
Instead, I picked up my phone and contacted the friend who had hosted me to lunch over the weekend, to advise him to get his energetic domestic fellow to take advantage of the rainy season and plant some food-related things somewhere in the massive space surrounding his beautiful house now that the rains have started.

pearls from pigs; the pork fest in June should be more than just a BBQ


Like most Ugandans, my affinity for the cooked flesh of a pig can take on legendary proportions if dieticians and medical professionals look the other way.

Whether it is roasted, fried, stewed or even stood in the sun for just long enough to kill off all possibility of disease, pork is a welcome item on any menu I come into contact with.

In December last year the International Livestock Research Institute (ILRI) announced that Uganda is the biggest consumer of pork on the continent. Most weekends in most of our towns will appear to confirm this – both in domestic and commercial settings.

The news stories covering this most important issue quoted ILRI Country Representative Dr. Ben Lukuyu saying that Uganda came second to China in global pork consumption numbers at 3.5kilogrammes per capita.

But sites like www.pork.org list the top ten pork producing countries as China, the European Union (which is clearly a cheat entry), the United States, Brazil, Russia, Vietnam, Canada, the Philippines, Mexico and Japan. China leads with 53,500 metric tonnes and Japan trails with 1,280 metric tonnes last year.

The same site lists 42 of the world’s top pork consuming countries, starting with China, and does not mention Uganda at all, which made Dr. Lukuyu’s quote appear questionable.

Eventually, I found on the internet an article from 2014 that read, “Correction 21 July 2014: This story originally incorrectly said that Uganda is Africa’s number one pork-consuming nation. It has now been corrected to clarify that Uganda is East Africa’s top pork-consuming nation.”

Either all the journalists left out the “East” or the good doctor himself made that error – TWO YEARS LATER.

In 2014 various reports said Uganda slaughters about 3.5million pigs every year from about 1.3million households.

The stupid thing, though, is that there are reports that Uganda actually imports pork from other countries as well. Of course, we all know that there is a brand of sausages that is made in another country that is found to be popular here, so those reports are certainly true. Plus, we have cans of processed pork on supermarket shelves.

Even more incredible was the statistic that in 2012 alone Africa imported US$295million worth of pork and pork products from other continents!

I am not writing this just to work up an appetite.

See, last week I learnt that China has introduced its first ‘Pork Price Index’. This is a tool of economic analysis that they say will help farmers understand the market better and therefore serve it to their benefit and those of the world’s majority of pork eaters.

They are worried about both the availability of pork and the price at which it sells, those Chinese.

They are so serious about their pork that they have the government managing the sector, established a ‘strategic pork reserve’, and have the equivalent of the Uganda Securities Exchange (NOT in dollar or Yuan terms, of course) monitoring its trade as part of a government ministry.

So what are we doing importing pork, if we are the biggest consumers of the stuff on the continent? This is one of our niches in East Africa, so where is the Uganda Pork Authority? The business of pork isn’t just about the delicious plated end of the sector, there are many ebigenderako as well – in the real sense as presented on the lusaniya, as well as the feeds pigs consume, the by-products, and a MASSIVE market on the continent.

So, again, what are we doing importing pork? Why are there so few Ugandan-made pork sausages of a quality that we can export rather than laud imports?

I’ll be asking more of these questions in about two month’s time at the Mandela National Stadium in Namboole, during the Uganda Pork Expo (June 24-25th).

Pork Festival

And in between sampling various types of pork products, I will be looking out for people mobilising Ugandans to produce more pigs in larger numbers. One day we will stop finding embarrassing statistics on the internet that say the biggest pig farm in Uganda holds 60 pigs; but only if people spend more on rearing the livestock than they do in second hand Japanese cars.

I also hope to meet economists and business development planners who will do the maths around getting at least one million Ugandans to rear one pig each so that we instantly double our national pig production.

And finally some logical people who will work out that sausages, because of their constitution and cost of production, should not be such ridiculously expensive food items. Or perhaps an academic to explain to me why in most organised countries these are the cheapest meats in the supermarket yet in Uganda they are considered prestigious.

If all these elements come together and logic reigns supreme then we will be gathering pearls from pigs.

ntangawuuzi, anyone? i mean ginger – put some in that tea, lazima!


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Ginger (Zingiber Officinale) – Photo: web.britannica.com
PLEASE join me in expressing sympathy for one Edward Kisubika, coordinator of a group of over 100 farmers who on Sunday, September 27 last year formed the Mukono Ginger Farmers Association.
Kisubika and his friends had high hopes, and he told The New Vision at the event that he could invest about Ushs5million and make over Ushs20million out of an acre. At that time, a kilogramme of ginger was going for between Ushs8,000 and Ushs10,000 each.
I sympathise quite deeply for Kisubika because, according to the story, he started out as a fisherman at Katosi landing site and got problems, then quit. He rested to vanilla “but when prices fell, I lost all my money I had invested. I kept growing vanilla and food crops but with little commercial benefit.”
Then he moved to ginger (NOT ‘ji-nga’).
And this week The New Vision reported that prices of ginger had dropped from Ushs8,000 to Ushs1,000.
With that price drop, very simplistic mathematics will tell you that Kisubika’s expectation of Ushs20million will now actually give him Ushs2,500,000 only. That is HALF of what he invested at the start of the season – hoping he didn’t spend much more supervising the crop and buying a copy of the newspaper that announced the price drop.
Let us hold a moment of silence there.
Ginger is one of the world’s most on-demand spices. It is used in EVERY Chinese meal, meaning that billions of people around the world eat it. It is also used in very many of the world’s drinks, herbal teas and medicines. In Europe, demand is rising day by day because of the growing drive for healthy eating and living.
The drop in prices is not in Uganda alone, and this being news today, at the end of June, is a sign of slow thinking and slow reactions. In May, China announced a drop in prices from 8 Yuan (and as high as 20 in early 2015) per kilo to 0.80 Yuan – and China is the world’s second biggest producer of the spice, after India.
The reason for the price drop there was the poor economic climate there, which affected the catering industry and killed commercial demand.
China’s ginger production numbers are followed by Nepal and then Nigeria.
Nigeria, meanwhile, was the world’s biggest exporter of ginger exports in 2014, followed by Ethiopia. In fact, on one list, seven of the world’s top ginger exporting countries are African.
I called up the Uganda Export Promotion Board (UEPB) about the price collapse to ask what they were doing about it, since the crop the farmers have in their fields hasn’t been harvested yet and hope shouldn’t be lost.
“Ginger prices have dropped due to increased production which has now spread outside the original producing areas of Butambala and Busoga. This increased production has also been propelled by improvement in farming techniques that are making less costly to manage,” I was told.
The good people there said we have mostly been exporting it  informally while formal statistics show that last year we only exported to Rwanda (130 tonnes), the United Kingdom (1 tonne) and Burundi (6 tonnes).
“Traders in Butambala have also indicated that many buyers (thought to be of Kenyan origin) bring in trucks and load ginger from different towns within the area,” they said.
I was heartened to hear that Uganda is also trying out dried ginger, which should help the Kisubika’s keep their crop in a form that doesn’t let it go to waste should the market stay bad.
And, “Ginger powder and ginger flavoured beverages, for example, are now a common sight in super market in key urban centres.”
The UEPB is now looking for alternative reliable market outlets that suit Uganda’s production patterns and has “initiated market research to identify these alternative markets, their requirements and how Ugandan exporters can benefit.”
All that is good, as is the internet research I quoted above, but it should all have been made use of back in September when the Kisubika’s were excitedly forming their association and increasing production outside of Butambala and Busoga.
Plus, there should have been discussions involving the processing, manufacturing and finance sectors to meet the Kisubika’s goal of setting up a processing factory in Mukono. And it is late but not too late for these discussions to begin – we have government ministries and departments in charge of finance, agriculture, trade, industry, labour and more that should have a meeting over this.
And if they are asleep then the entrepreneurs should be moving faster. This Wednesday I had a chat with Gerald Owachi, of Pamrone, who told me he and his partners are trying to put together Ushs105million to order for a dryer/drier to be fabricated and stationed on their farm.
Theirs will not be just a grain dryer/drier as normally happens, but will be principally used to dry cassava, so it will certainly be capable of drying other tubers and ginger as well.
Ushs105million is half the price of a second hand Range Rover or Land Cruiser – and there are many of those on the streets of Kampala. At the very worst, though, that amount of money is also equivalent to five second hand sedans on the streets of Kampala – again, meaning that it is an easy investment for a group of entrepreneurs to make if they got together to do the maths and talk to the likes of Gerald Owachi and Kisubika.
If the supply of ginger is so good that it is outstripping local and regional demand to bring prices down, then surely it should be enough to support manufacturing so that the fresh ginger can have value added to it and fetch more than peanuts?

#RainsAreHere – so wake up and go plant something in your tropical garden!


ONE morning last year I astonished @spartakussug, a marketing and creative design fellow, when I changed the location of our meeting appointment from a popular cafe to a sedate office location. The caveat, I told him, was that he would have to spend the equivalent of our coffee bills on buying mango tree seedlings.
He did, and I eventually planted five mango trees, after explaining to him that city people like us were spending too much time and money “living life” to stop and take the reality of our potential into account. He promised to secure land and start planting his own trees, vegetables and what not, and I will this week be following up on that.
I started on this journey a long time ago, thanks to an actively agricultural family background, so for more than a month now I have been anxious over when the rains will

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MY matooke. All MINE.

finally fall.

And when this week the skies opened up with more promise than the tickling it did a couple of weeks ago, I jumped out of bed with an enthusiasm I did not have when I was still in school.
I wasn’t surprised to read tweets and facebook posts about burrowing deeper into bed on account of the morning rains, because our city lifestyle is influenced by the movies, novels and internet posts – where most of the content is created and published by people who live in harsh climates that cannot grow crops left, right, centre, and all food comes from supermarkets.
Because we ‘live’ in a culture that is based in other countries that don’t have the climate, soils, seeds, and traditional agricultural knowledge that exists in tropical Africa, we tend to think like people who do. That’s why, for instance, I can spend one thousand shillings on one avocado fruit every day for years and years, even though one avocado seedling will cost me two thousand shillings and within one and a half years will serve up thousands of fruits. That same avocado, if converted into ebigenderako at a joint selling roast meat, will fetch a value of Ushs4,000!
See, over the weekend I had paid my parents a visit and returned with a sack of avocados collected quite casually within minutes from one of the trees in their garden (the real one – olusuku), and as usual I calculated very carefully how much money I had saved on my market shopping for the next couple of weeks, with adjustments to my diet plan.
My own avocado tree, where I live, is going to be serving up large numbers of the fruits again in a short while and I am adopting a new policy for the benefit of my children, based on what I told Collin last year: for every fruit we consume from that one tree in my front garden I will put aside one thousand shillings in cash.
All the money I collect in this way will be spent buying avocado tree seedlings for planting on a farm patch – and the possession of that land, of course, is a pre-requisite for this approach to work, though even that land could be acquired quite easily by many of these city people using their spare change or if they buy fewer buffet meals and less whisky.
So it was that on Monday, before some people had ordered for their office snacks using online and mobile apps, I had used the very same technology to place orders for a range of tree seedlings to add to my last planting – and I will do that every chance I get, till I have

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Ordered from @GreeningUganda

these fruits and vegetables pouring out in piles.

And let’s not worry that if you all join in and we all have piles and piles of fruits and vegetables that nobody will buy them – at the very least, all those people out there in that wide world who are snuggling in their beds in the bad weather will buy up our produce.  On another level, other people will start up business ventures to transport, refrigerate, package, process, brand and export our stuff.
Just make sure that when it rains in the mornings you aren’t the one holding the blanket tighter to your chin – lazima you should get up and call the guys at the farm to find out if it’s raining there and they are at work in the fields.