Transcriber: Zsófia Herczeg Reviewer: Peter Van de Ven
It is true
that empty stomachs have no ears,
that hunger causes the destruction of wildlands,
but I believe there is a remedy that can heal both people and nature.
The Civil War
in the Southern African country of Mozambique
lasted from 1977 to 1992.
During the horrific 15-year war, there was no food and no jobs,
especially in the countryside.
One of the families hard hit
by the terrors and deprivation caused by the conflict
were Zakaria and Anastasia Domingo
and their children Chico, Yao, Davina and Nando.
Living in the Marromeu Complex of the Zambezi Delta,
with the war raging around them,
Zakaria’s only means of feeding his family
was through subsistence farming and poaching with homemade snares.
But there was really never enough nourishment for his family,
particularly protein.
His sons and daughter were suffering from chronic malnutrition
and severe protein deficiency,
or what is called kwashiorkor,
a visible sign of which
was the terribly bloated bellies of his children.
As any father would,
Zakaria did not worry about the consequences of the poaching
or the extensive destruction of the forested areas
through slash-and-burn agriculture.
He was desperate to feed his family,
and he would stop at nothing to try and fulfill the role of provider.
Eventually, the war came to an end,
but food and jobs were still lacking in the villages of the Zambezi Delta.
Poaching and subsistence farming
were still the only means available to the local people
to bring in even a meager supply of nutrients and income
for their families.
Then men and women arrived from the capital city of Maputo
and from neighboring South Africa.
They sat down and spoke with Zakaria and Anastasia and other villagers.
They explained to them
that they had a vision to restore not only the villagers’ lives
but also the ecosystem within which they lived.
These newcomers went on to paint a picture
of how they would accomplish this,
this resurrection of lives and wildlands.
They emphasized that only by working hand in hand,
local villagers with the outsiders, would change be possible.
The newcomers pointed to the first step in the chain that could,
with much work and persistence,
lead to the realization of their nearly unimaginable vision.
This first step was a provision of a consistent supply of protein.
Like the meagre amount of protein brought in by the villagers’ poaching,
the source would be wild animals.
[Warning: graphic content]
[Images of animals hunted for food}
However,
rather than indiscriminate poaching,
international trophy hunters would provide the animal protein.
All of the meat
from this closely regulated sport hunting
would go to feed the local villagers and the international hunters themselves.
The goal was to provide ten pounds of meat per week
for each of the local families.
Well, we’re dropping off meat to one of the villages.
This is coming from what’s called a community buffalo.
It’s a Cape buffalo that I hunted this morning and took.
I paid for the permit and the opportunity to hunt the Cape buffalo,
but I won’t take a trophy away with me, no horns or anything like that.
Instead, this is simply for meat for the villagers.
This Cape buffalo will feed approximately 60 families,
something like that,
because it’s 10 pounds per family,
about 600 pounds of boned meat from this animal.
So as you can see,
they’re beginning to come in to get their allocation of meat.
And each time, this is what happens,
it turns into a family affair, an event and a lot of fun.
After knowing only deprivation and hunger,
it is easy to understand
that Zakaria and Anastasia would have been mistrustful
of such promises.
So the second step in the restoration process
was equally important.
The outsiders told them
that they would use the funds from the sport hunters
to hire anti-poaching teams.
Who better to act as anti-poaching squads,
they emphasized,
than those who were former poachers?
So anti-poaching efforts
are the other side of the restoration coin.
Fast response teams made up of local villagers
now ride on electric motorbikes bought with hunter funds.
Even a helicopter operates from the Zambezi Delta Safari Base Camp,
adding its range and speed to both monitor wildlife
and to search for poaching teams.
And yes, hunters bought the helicopter as well.
Over time, the local villagers’ doubts transformed into relief and joy.
No longer did they have to worry
about their children or themselves going hungry.
Not only was 10 pounds of red meat provided each week,
but abundant fish protein was also available
through a regulated fishing program begun by the safari operators.
Likewise, instead of slashing and burning the forest
to have access to maize and other plant-based nutrients,
the safari outfitters developed a community agricultural field.
Though a 2016 study by the National Institutes of Health
still identified malnutrition in Mozambique as a serious concern,
with around 40 percent of all children chronically malnourished,
this is no longer the case in the Marromeu Complex.
Children and their parents are well-fed and enjoy a much healthier existence.
As crucial as it was,
the near miraculous changes for the local villagers’ lives
did not stop with the provision of food.
Infrastructural improvements including schools,
housing for teachers, a clinic, a portable maize mill
and even a self-sustaining honey producing program
are available to all local villagers.
Every one of these additions
came from the money of passionate sport hunters.
You might be wondering how sport hunting differs from poaching;
I mean, in both cases, animals are killed by “hunters.”
Non-hunters in particular ask me this question quite often,
and it’s a great question.
Let’s look again at the Marromeu Complex.
In the case of poaching,
snares and traps catch whatever unfortunate animal happens past.
Often found are females and their youngs strangled by the wire snares
or with their legs mangled by the steel traps.
The indiscriminate nature of poaching is horrible,
but possibly even worse is that organized poaching squads
will catch tens to hundreds of animals over the course of their multiday raids.
Some of these raids are for personal use,
but many are for selling the meat at markets in the local villages.
The result
is the near extinction of species.
Contrast this to sport hunting,
where strict quotas exist,
overseen by government officials
and the outfitters who guide their hunting clients.
Hunters take only a small fraction of the older males from each species.
Let's consider two examples.
Each year, sport hunters remove only 70 Cape buffalo bulls
from a population of 25,000
and 25 sable bulls from a population of 3,000.
The money paid by the hunters,
in the form of license fees, community fees and daily rates,
goes straight back into the local community
and into anti-poaching efforts.
The financial input from the well-regulated sport hunting
for the restoration of the Zambezi Delta ecosystem
has been no less miraculous than for the local villagers.
Game animals have swollen in numbers
with the regulated hunting of their populations,
providing the funds necessary to continue to suppress poaching.
Sable antelope once numbered only 30 animals
but now have grown to 3,000.
Only 1,200 Cape buffalo remained
when the safari operators began their work.
Now there are more than 25,000 of these animals roaming the landscape.
And the quintessential African species,
the zebra, as they say here in Mozambique,
was nearly extinct,
with only eight of these beautiful equids left in 1992.
They now roam in herds that add up to over 1,200 individuals.
But it’s not only game animals that have benefited from sport hunting.
The disappearance of subsistence agriculture
means protection for tree species and ground cover.
The trees are home for beautifully colored songbirds.
Lower vegetation holds a wealth of amphibians, insects and small mammals.
The ecological web has self-healed
as the protection from human destruction has continued.
Without sport hunting,
there would still be starvation in the Marromeu Complex.
Without sport hunting,
there would still be an ecosystem in disarray.
And without sport hunting,
the people and the wildlands within which they exist
would be in daily peril.
With sport hunting,
this portion of Mozambique and Africa
reflect a resurrection of people
and of nature.
And remember Zakaria?
I met him on this trip to Mozambique.
He’s now in his 50s.
He is prosperous.
We passed through his rice fields, sesame fields
and even his apiaries, where he produces honey for personal use
and selling in local markets.
Zakaria, like all the local villagers, has seen a transformation of his life,
the lives of his children and the wildlands within which they live.
Sport hunting can indeed stop hunger,
and it can cause ears, eyes,
and yes, even stomachs to hear and see and understand
the need for conservation of natural wonders
like the Marromeu Complex of Mozambique.
Thank you.