Untitled Document
Selina, her husband, and four children are among the 1.2 billion people
in the world living on less than a dollar a day -- what the United Nations calls
'extreme poverty.'
At 8 a.m., after seeing her husband off to work and her children off to school,
Selina Bonefesi puts on her entrepreneur's hat. Mrs. Bonefesi has a small business
making fritters -- fried cakes made of wheat, salt, sugar, and yeast.
She'll spend the morning mixing, waiting for the dough to rise, and frying,
cranking out as many as 300 of the tasty treats and selling them from her home
to passersby. By the end of the week, between her household chores and running
her business, she'll have logged more hours than a Fortune 500 CEO.
But she'll only earn about $1 a day.
Selina, her husband, and four children are among the 1.2 billion people in
the world living on less than a dollar a day -- what the United Nations calls
"extreme poverty." Many of them are in Africa. Some live in rural
villages, others in urban shantytowns; some can be found in the deserts of Chad,
others in the jungles of the Congo. Yet Selina's family in Malawi is typical:
they have limited education, little access to jobs or capital, and are ruled
by an indebted government that lacks a coherent plan for helping its poorest
citizens.
The Monitor visited with Selina to learn how a family of six lives on so little
-- and to hear from them what would be most helpful from the richest nations
in the world. Selina's message is quite simple. "Monetary help is needed,"
she says. "We want iron sheets on our houses. We want capital for our businesses."
In a typical week, Selina will make 1,125 Malawian kwatcha, or $9.09, in fritter
sales. With the $5.17 that's left over after she buys supplies for her next
batch, she'll purchase food and amenities for her family and tuck away $1.25
into savings. Her annual earnings, combined with her husband's earnings as a
farmer, will give the family of six, after business expenses, about $453 to
live on this year.
Selina married her husband, Bonefesi Malema, when she was 16 and took his first
name as her last. Selina's fritter business is meant to be a buffer against
hard times, warding off the insecurity that comes with each growing season.
Selina says her contribution is only to "take some of the financial strain
off my husband and to help his farming business." But this year, Selina
is the main breadwinner.
The fruits of her labor are 150 small fritters and 150 large fritters, which
will sell for about $.02 and $.04, respectively. Her customers are her neighbors,
schoolchildren hungering for a midmorning snack, and people headed to the market
three miles past her town. They all know Selina's house and yell out to her
from the yard for service with a smile.
With the exception of the trip to the market to buy supplies, Selina's entire
business -- preparation and selling -- is done within the confines of her house,
allowing her to continue her primary role as the caretaker of her family. "Some
women have had problems with their husbands when they engage in economic activities,"
she explains. "Those are the women who neglect their family duties."
Some weeks, Selina may be able to make two batches of fritters, doubling her
take. But with nearly 15 percent of Malawians HIV-positive and life expectancy
at 37.5 years, funerals often occur twice per month, and require donations and
communal labor, dipping into her work time.
Selina has been in business for three years. In 2001, the Malawi country office
of Care International, a private volunteer organization based in Atlanta, Ga.,
targeted the 10 most destitute women in Selina's village of 333, just outside
the capital, Lilongwe, for a road-maintenance program. The women received economic
and personal-empowerment training in exchange for their labor. Selina qualified
for the program, learning how to save money with the group and start her own
business. The women have now saved $125 for things like fertilizer to boost
their husbands' harvests.
Three miles to market on foot
On a new day, Selina walks the three miles to the market. With the money that's
left over from buying $3.92 worth of fritter supplies, she'll purchase fish
($.24), tomatoes ($.08), and practical items -- soap, lotion, and salt, for
a total of $.51. Trousers and two blouses for her youngest children tally $.50
after bargaining down the price. Next week she'll give her son $1.25 to select
his clothes but will spend up to $1.60 on her daughter, knowing the importance
of an attractive wrap. She motions to the brightly colored cloth that covers
her legs. "If a woman has more than one of these, then she is a real woman,"
she says.
When Selina returns at dusk on tired legs, her children run to meet her. They
tug at the parcel she has balanced on her head and unveil four doughnuts. While
the treats cost a total of $.16 -- about half the cost of dinner -- any mother
could understand why she splurged. "I bought them so that when the kids
are coming to meet me and calling, 'Ma! Ma!' I can have the pleasure of giving
them something to make them even happier," she says.
With the fish and tomatoes, Selina will make a special porridge supper. Usually
they will eat porridge garnished only with dried pumpkin and bean leaves, picked
from the surrounding area in season and dried for use throughout the year. Greens
from their garden also provide some variety to their meals. But because the
diet is generally bland, Selina says, "I do struggle to get a little tomato
for flavor." If they ever find themselves with extra funds, Selina and
her husband will treat themselves to luxury items: a liter of milk for $.38,
a loaf of bread for $.50, or half a pound of beef for $2.50.
The family has precious few belongings, all bought from the local market --
a pail for water, a handmade lamp, and some plastic chairs that they hospitably
lay out for visitors not accustomed to sitting on the hard-packed dirt. Several
years ago, after a particularly fruitful harvest, Bonefesi bought his most powerful
possession: a bicycle worth $50, which is used to transport tobacco from the
field. He also enjoys a radio he bought for more than $4.
Bonefesi farms both tobacco and maize on his three-acre holding. He laid out
a whopping $67.87 for fertilizer this year and will struggle to see returns
on his investment. Bonefesi will pay an entrepreneurial neighbor with an ox
cart about $2 to bring his harvested maize to the house. He treats the crop
in his storage shack with a chemical solution to keep away termites, which runs
him another $1.62. Bonefesi hopes to receive $21.25 for each of three 110-lb.
bags of maize that he harvested this year -- $63.75 total.
While tobacco requires more input than maize, it's an export crop so the reward
is greater. Bonefesi will shell out $2.42 for tobacco seeds, $.81 to use a tobacco
press, and $4.04 to transport the goods to the auction house. He will be content
if he receives around $100 for his one bale of tobacco.
The income from Bonefesi's farming activities will total $197.07 and will yield
$118.29 in profits this year. With this, Bonefesi can pay for the $75.14 in
annual family expenses that Selina's earnings do not cover, including school
uniforms and fees. This does not leave much margin for investment in business,
or for emergencies like funerals, illness, or a low return on crops.
Fortunately, the sale of 15 of the family's chickens will add $36.36 to the
kitty, as well as protein to Selina's dishes. They don't eat the eggs -- they
would rather let them mature into full-grown birds. This year they could save
about $175, some of which they will put aside for harder times.
Children help out
While all the children pitch in to help in the fields or by selling fritters,
Anne, the oldest daughter, bears the brunt of the household chores. While her
19-year-old brother, Sifiledi, attends 11th grade, she stays home to help her
mother. Anne completed 8th grade, the last free year of public school, but her
parents cannot afford the cost for 9th grade.
They do, however, consistently pay Sifiledi's yearly tuition bill of $29.09
and a per annum of $6.46 for school supplies and smart pink-and-blue uniforms
for the three school-going children.
Bonefesi proudly tells of Sifiledi's ambition. "He would like to work
in the government in the rank of official," he says. They hope that if
he continues to study he will achieve his dream. Anne has ambition, too. She
would like to be a nurse. While the children will hope to earn more than their
parents, the majority of teens will remain in the village as farmers and housewives.
Selina and Bonefesi's economic situation is like many families in Malawi, where
65 percent of the population of more than 11 million live on under a $1 per
day. The couple talks about the realities of their village, which sits close
to the international airport. It has a murky well filled with gray water, distant
hospitals, and scarce and expensive fertilizer. "We do struggle to live
a good life like others but we fall short each and every day," Selina says.
While Selina and Bonefesi will continue to work diligently at their businesses,
Bonefesi wants Western readers to know: "It is good to live in Malawi,
but poverty is the real struggle. If there are other countries that are willing
to help, let them help us fight poverty. Poverty is the biggest enemy we know."