Animal Encounters - First Elephant

As a Field Entomologist in Tsetse Control in Rhodesia (1967-68), much of my time was spent in pretty remote areas of “the bush.”  I would write to my parents, who were living in South Africa at the time and describe my employment as “working in a zoo,” only there were no cages. I had a camera with me, but took far too few photographs.  I also always had a rifle with me.  Occasionally I could provide a little fresh meat for our camp and only once did I almost have to use my .375 magnum to protect myself.

During the height of the rainy season, from December through March, movement in many back-country areas was limited by wet and often impassable roads. The weather from April through October was about as predictable as weather could be, sunny dry days, cool clear nights.

As anyone who has been “on safari” in Africa can testify, when around wildlife there is always an unexpected event or sighting around the next bend in the road.  It may not occur for many, many, hours, or even days, but it always leaves an indelible memory.  Just as you begin to wonder where the game is, it pops up to excite and amaze you. This was certainly my experience as a young, enthusiastic lover of all wild places and animals, suddenly finding myself in a professional situation that few have an opportunity to experience in their lives. Growing up through my teen years, I was able to join my dad on occasional hunts for small game. These were always enjoyable and taught me solid lessons, but I have never been, nor would I ever describe myself as a “hunter.” The main lessons I learned were how to shoot well and how to treat a firearm with great respect.

Being in Tsetse Control did not give anyone a license or permission to hunt.  We were able to shoot only in clearly designated areas and under strict guidelines. There was never an attempt to take on the role of the professional game rangers and wardens of the Department of National Parks and Wildlife Management.

One of the most memorable days of my life was the first time I saw elephant in the wild.  I had seen them many times in game reserves, from behind a fence or from the safety of a car but never while on foot.   I had spent several weeks on a spraying operation in a remote area on the southern edge of the Zambezi Escarpment due south of Lake Kariba.  These operations were conducted for 25 consecutive days, beginning on the first day of each month.  Everyone would go for “R & R” from the 25^th to the 31^st to make up for the weekends that we had worked. Field Officers would return to Salisbury (now Harare) for a well deserved break, and to re-provision for the following month. The laborers; most recruited from local villages, would return home to their families and their chores.

Elephant footprints (spoor) in sand

On this occasion, in August 1967, my boss Bill Casey had arranged to take me to a Tsetse Research station called Reckomechi.  I rendezvoused with Bill in the small town of Makuti and left my Land Rover at the local Government depot while we continued in his vehicle.  From Makuti, the two-lane paved highway descends almost immediately into the Zambezi Valley in long sweeping curves through dense bush.  The valley floor is flat and the most noticeable change in vegetation is the increased number of baobab trees; those huge grey hulks that seem as though they have been thrust into the earth upside down.  As the highway flattens out to cross the valley floor north to the Zambezi River and the Zambian border post called Beit Bridge, we turned right onto a dusty road heading east toward Mana Pools, the renowned Game Reserve.

The dirt road is straight, except for a few times when its geometrically perfect bearing was impeded by an old baobab tree; then it would bend just enough to skirt the obstruction.  After about 30 miles on this hot, dusty road we passed the turn to Mana Pools and soon arrived at Reckomtjie, a loose assemblage of metal prefab buildings which served as labs, offices and accommodations.  We met the Tsetse Officer in charge and his wife and as the late afternoon shadows began to lengthen, Bill Casey suggested we take a walk to the nearby Reckomtjie River.  So, we made our way through the small vegetable garden at the back of the house and followed a narrow path descending into the river.  The river, as is typical in this area, was lined on either side by huge, old hardwood trees, teak, ebony and ironwood.  The wide sandy river bed appeared completely dry although from the holes that had been dug by elephant, there was obviously water not too far below the surface. We reach the bed of the river and crossed a narrow sandy area before climbing up onto a large earth mound, about 10-12 feet high, fortified by a number of large trees. It was literally an island in the dry river bed which was about 40 yards wide at this point.

Looking directly north, the sand ran straight into the shade of overhanging trees, as though disappearing into a tunnel.  Behind us, to the south, the river bed ran up against a vertical red earthen cliff as it turned to the left and began its ascent into the distant hills. I could imagine how it might be during the rains, when thunderstorms would build over the higher country and the rushing torrents would spill into the valley along this dry sandy highway.  Bill and I sat down on top of our “island” and enjoyed the peace and quiet for a few minutes.  Before long we saw the grey, ambling hulks of a herd of elephant begin to appear out of the shadows to the north.  They were walking purposefully, in single file, with an old matriarch in the lead. As they got closer, we could see there were perhaps twenty animals in the group, mostly females, with several calves and a few immature males.  It reminded me of the tame elephants I had seen as a young boy at Ringling Brothers Circus, when the elephants would enter the big top and walk around the ring holding each other by the tail.

Now of course they smelled us and the column slowed briefly. Then they separated into two lines, with one row passing on our left and the other to our right.  From our small hilltop, we could almost have reached out and touched them. As they passed, we were close enough for them to see us, and a few lifted their trunks to test the air.  I realized that, in the excitement of the moment, I had been holding my breath.  I also remember how quietly these huge, gentle animals were moving.  As the last one passed, we turned to watch them continue up-river and soon disappear around the bend below the cliffs.

This herd had come out of the vast Mana Pools Game Reserve and, had probably not been poached or hunted.  This explained their acceptance of the smell of humans and the fact that, despite the presence of young in their herd, we were not perceived as a threat.  In the near future I would encounter elephant in other parts of the country and in different circumstances where the smell of humans would throw them into a panic. The following morning, I walked up-river from this spot and saw where the herd had excavated holes in the riverbed and exposed pools of water.  During this time of the year, when rain would not come for many more months, elephants provide a source of water for many other wildlife species by digging into the dry river beds. 

Water revealed by elephant in a dry river bed.

It’s 44 years later and I still have the sharpest memories of that late afternoon in the Reckometjie River.  That was the moment when I began a love affair with elephants and started to develop an understanding of just how remarkably intelligent and gentle they are.  

Next - encounter with a Cape Buffalo, and then a black mamba and an eland.

Tsetse - the silent destroyer

If you haven't read my previous post (July 17) then stop and go back.  

When I became a "tsetse fly controller," or Glossinologist, in 1967 I had only a rudimentary understanding of the insect and little appreciation of the total control this fly had on huge areas of the African continent.  In Rhodesia, as in so many developing countries, there was an unrelenting need for more land where the rapidly growing rural population could establish their rudimentary houses, grow crops and raise livestock. 

Wherever the tsetse fly occurred, rearing cattle, both as a source of meat and milk and as draft animals, was not possible without expensive prophylactic drugs administered every 30 days.  Almost 25% of otherwise fertile land in the country could only be farmed with hand tools, making it subsistence living or worse. The government had, over the years after WWII, put ever-increasing financial and manpower resources into finding ways of pushing the tsetse fly away from suitable areas planned for settlement.  Most of these efforts were restricted to the dry months of the year, generally from May through September; or, if the rains came late, the month of October could be included in that calendar.  The rains, from October through April, and sometimes May, were a huge impediment to field operations against the tsetse fly in Rhodesia.

The unique biology and behavior of the tsetse fly made it vulnerable to two primary control methods.

First:  it is very susceptible to insecticide.  It also tends to rest on the bark of trees along drainage areas which provide it with shade and sandy soil where it lays its already developing pupa.  These areas are where water sources for wildlife can be found and where wildlife tends to find shelter in the heat of the day.  The careful, targeted, application of insecticide to specific tree species could significantly reduce the populations of the fly.  It was possible to pinpoint these drainage areas by using aerial photographs. The targeted applications of insecticide also mitigated to a large degree the dangers of the widespread use of toxic chemicals on many other species of birds, insects and mammals.

Application of insecticide in a remote area in north Rhodesia.

In the 1960s there was a great sensitivity to the dangers of indiscriminate insecticide applications.  DDT had been banned in many parts of the world and it was in short supply locally.  We had turned to using Dieldrin which was more toxic than DDT but which could be applied in lower concentrations to achieve a similar result in reducing fly populations.

Second:  its preferred food source is the blood of mammals occurring in the wild.  In Rhodesia in the 1960's, the list of the top six preferred animals was made up of elephant, cape buffalo, warthog, bushpig, kudu and bushbuck.  All of these species were carriers of the disease passed on by the fly (trypanosomiasis or "tryps") but were resistant to its effects.  By establishing "controlled hunting areas," populations of these animal species could be selectively reduced or driven out by hunting.  Once these populations were reduced sufficiently the fly could not sustain itself in the area and would die out.  Depending on the success of controlled hunting in one area, resulting in the removal of the fly, the boundary of the controlled hunting areas could be moved each year, thus opening up new land for farming.

Another important consideration was that the tsetse fly could not fly long distances and would not, on its own, move across areas which were dry and did not have suitable shelter.  So their movement was greatly aided by the presence of animals which moved long distances - especially elephant and buffalo.  Tsetse fly were thought to be moved by resting on the skin of elephants as they traversed great distances to find water.  To inhibit the movement of these animals 7 ft. high game fences were erected across great distances, at considerable expense.

The two control methods discussed here, when coordinated with one another, would result in the removal of the fly from widespread areas of the country.  But how did we measure the success of these methods?  Checkpoints (or "fly gates") were set up at strategic points along the areas under attack.  The Tsetse Fly, attracted by dark colors and moving objects, would often rest in the wheel wells of cars.  A gate attendant at a "check point" would walk around the vehicle with a small net in hand and attempt to capture any flies.  These would be counted and recorded.  Over time, his daily log would be handed in and the figures added to maps back at Tsetse Control Headquarters.  These somewhat crude methods gave a good indication of the presence of the tsetse in those sensitive front line areas and helped to plan future campaigns.

A typical rural Tsetse Fly gate in 1960s Rhodesia.

Anyone who may have lived or traveled in Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) in the 1960s and 1970s will remember the Tsetse Control Check Point on the highway north leading to Zambia and Lake Kariba.  Every southbound vehicle had to pass through a large hangar expressly constructed for the purpose of capturing flies and monitoring fly numbers. (Unlike the photo shown here, which is a typical small fly gate in a remote area.)  When all the cars and trucks that could fit were inside, the large hangar doors at each end were closed, making the inside dark.  A hand held aerosol insect repellent was spayed into the car or cab of the truck and into the wheel wells of the vehicles.  Small windows were opened in the hangar wall to let in light through a trap.  Attendants would wave their nets around the wheels to stir the flies up.  Flies would either be caught in the nets or attracted to the light boxes in the hangar wall.  This hangar provided  valuable fly counts each month which gave excellent statistics to determine fly populations.

I could write at great length about the massive efforts to push the tsetse away from areas of settlement in Rhodesia.  These efforts continue today in many countries of Africa.  I personally would not trade my time in this effort for anything.  One benefit was that I was always working in areas with very high wildlife populations.  Over one seven-month period from April to October 1968 I lived on the southeast border of Rhodesia, working on a three-country control operation along the shared border with Mozambique.  Teams from South Africa, Mozambique and Rhodesia worked together on this huge effort which consisted of opening up an expensive new road system in the Portuguese territory.  This area of southeast Rhodesia would in later years become the Gona-re-Zhou National Park and may soon be extended across Mozambique into the Kruger National park of South Africa to create a massive "Trans-Frontier Park." The Gona-re-Zhou ("place of the elephants") is one of the most stunningly beautiful areas of Africa. When I was camping there I saw huge herds of cape buffalo and elephant. Two large perennial rivers, the Save and the Lundi Rivers flow through here which support rich game populations in the surrounding hills and plains.

On maps of this area today you can see a small dot along the border labeled "Border B" representing a gate in the fence line.  While I was planning the new road system (using aerial photographs) I selected that point along the fence for construction of a gate between the two countries. Because it occurred at point "B" on an expansive A, B, C, D grid system, I named it Border B Camp.  That name has stuck.  Maybe I should have called it Joe's Gate, or something more descriptive.

If I could have an opportunity to re- visit one part of Africa before I cash in my chips, I would like it to be the Gona-re-Zhou National Park. 

Next: Some animal encounters.

Tsetse Fly Wars - 1967 to present

So, back in 1967, what was the big concern about the Tsetse Fly, and why were so many financial and logistical resources expended to try and control this little pesky critter? The reality then, and now, is that the Tsetse Fly is one of the roots of Africa’s poverty.  No other region of the world suffers the same animal health problems as the tsetse fly imposes on Africa.

Sleeping Sickness and Nagana are diseases transmitted by the Tsetse Fly.  According to the deputy director-general of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) "  It is no accident that the concentration of much of the world's most acute poverty is in regions of sub-Saharan Africa infested with tsetse."    Some experts say that the Trypanosomiasis pathogen helps create African "green deserts" -- 10 million square kilometers of otherwise lush and fertile land that is not in production because of the tsetse fly carrier. This includes land in 32 of the world's poorest countries.

The presence of the disease Nagana, which is deadly to most cattle, prevents rural villagers from using cattle or horses as draft animals which could improve their agricultural productivity by 25 to 45%. "Allowing more African farmers to own livestock would have a profound impact on hunger and poverty in the continent, but that cannot be achieved without the elimination of the tsetse fly."  Native breeds of cattle (Zebu), which will be familiar to those who have traveled to East Africa on safari, are only somewhat resistant to Nagana.

Cross-bred cattle whose milk production is NINE times the native breeds, cannot survive in tsetse fly areas.Ironically, it is the presence of the tsetse fly (and the diseases that it carries) across great tracts of Africa that protected land from over-development during the last century of European settlement and expansion.  This enabled both the colonial rulers and subsequently the governments of independent states to develop their wildlife resources by establishing National Parks and Wildlife Management areas. The Game Reserves of Kenya, Tanzania, South Africa, Zimbabwe and Botswana almost certainly would not have been set aside for the conservation of wildlife had they been of economic value for ranching and crop production. 

The tsetse fly thrives in an environment where there are large populations of wildlife providing an unlimited and year-round supply of essential mammalian blood on which they must feed to survive and reproduce.

Nearly 45,000 cases of sleeping sickness (or Trypanosoma as the pathogen is called) were reported in Africa in 1999. However, only three to four million of the over 60 million people at risk are being screened and the number of cases may be as high as 500,000, the World Health Organization (WHO) reports. In the absence of effective screening most people with sleeping sickness die before they can ever be diagnosed. Early diagnosis offers a relatively high chance of cure. Back in the 1960’s and before, the extent of the disease was worse. 

The disease causes an acute infection that emerges after a few weeks and which can infect a person for months, or years, without symptoms, while parasites multiply in the bloodstream and lymphatic system.  When they cross the blood-brain barrier and invade the central nervous system, there are neurological changes that are often irreversible, and which require a strict and complex regimen of treatment.

The trypanosome is carried in the blood of most African antelope species, as well as other vertebrates such as elephant, cape buffalo, warthogs and bush pigs; all of which are immune to its effects. Horses, cattle, dogs, and other domesticated animals will die when exposed to the bite of the tsetse fly if not maintained on a regular course of prophylactic drugs. The trypanosomes in many areas have become resistant to these drugs.

There is hope for the future.  In 1996, the IAEA assisted in the development of a technique of sterilizing the male tsetse fly using radiation. Large numbers of sterilized males are released into the countryside.  The female fly only mates once in her lifetime, and so the larvae that she lays once every week to ten days does not live. In a trial conducted on the isolated island of Zanzibar, off of the East African coast, the tsetse fly population was eradicated and farming productivity rose dramatically in the years following this trail.  The use of this technique on the African mainland holds hope for similar results, but campaigns would require large financial and human resources, and close cooperation across borders and government jurisdictions to achieve long-term success.  

When I became a Field Entomologist, or Glossinologist, in the “Tsetse and Trypanosomiasis Control Branch” of the Department of Veterinary Services for the Government of Rhodesia in 1967, that progressive country was achieving considerable success in clearing large areas of the tsetse fly.  The extensive, and costly, operations had the vital purpose of opening up new land for settlement to meet a rapidly growing demand for productive farm land for a fast-growing native population.  In many areas of the country land was very fertile, but cattle and other domestic livestock or draft animals could not survive.

 

In my next blog I will describe the basics of a Tsetse Control operation 44 years ago. 

Red marks the extent of Tsetse Fly infestation - as of 1999.

 

Africa Travel Diary: Tsetse Wars - mobilization

Africa Travel Diary: Tsetse Wars - mobilization: "My first camp as a Field Entomologist A typical shower installation in camp. I became a Field Entomologist with the Tsetse & Trypanoso..."

Tsetse Wars - mobilization

My first camp as a Field Entomologist

A typical shower installation in camp.

I became a Field Entomologist with the Tsetse & Trypanosomiasis Branch of the Department of Veterinary Services in Rhodesia in July 1967.  I had driven north into Rhodesia from the South African border post at Beit Bridge, in my relatively new Volkswagen Beetle, to begin a new chapter of my life.  My home for the previous six years had been Grahamstown, South Africa, where I had studied Zoology and Entomology and worked in the Department of Zoology at Rhodes University as Senior Lab Technician. 

Rhodesia, for me, was a breath of fresh air.  The Apartheid policies of the South African Government had not permeated Rhodesian society.  Race relations were completely different and this was immediately apparent in all walks of society, where blacks held positions in commerce and in government departments and in private industry unlike I had seen before in South Africa.
     
A few examples come to mind.  Most commercial and public transport drivers were blacks.  In South Africa, job reservation (or protection) policies prohibited blacks from operating many forms of public transport, including buses, and reserved those occupations for whites only.  In Rhodesia one could go into a Post Office or a Bank and most other businesses and expect to be waited on by a black or white employee.  It was not unusual to be attended to by a black nurse or doctor, particularly in rural areas. Across the broad spectrum of jobs, those who were qualified to hold positions were able to compete for those positions and be paid on a standard scale of pay.

There were exceptions, of course, such as the fact that most public schools were still reserved for blacks or whites. But the society had been integrated to an extent that I had not seen in my 12 years in South Africa.  Over the next 13 years that I was to live in this rich and diverse country, significant progress continued to be made in integrating the races more fully and breaking down old divisions. 

In any event, I reported for my new job in the Tsetse Control offices located among the buildings and research facilities in the Agricultural Research Station north of the City of Salisbury (now Harare) in an area known as “the avenues.”  I had brought most of my meager possessions with me in a metal trunk (27 in. long by 12 in. high by 16 inches deep) with a hinged lid and a padlock.  This, I figured, would be a valuable thing to have when living in a tent in the middle of nowhere.  It soon proved its value by being impervious to rain, spiders, scorpions and snakes, while keeping much coveted food such as jars of sugar safely out of the hands of
less-than-honest camp thieves.  After 44 years this metal trunk sits securely in the basement of my house and holds many mementos of my days in Africa.
   
I was issued with basic camp equipment; a tent with fly sheet, a canvas tarpaulin to use as a ground sheet, a mosquito net, high-pressure kerosene lamp, a canvas stretcher with three flexible steel metal legs to sleep on, a small canvas “wash basin” into which I could pour hot water for shaving or just washing, a sturdy metal table with legs that folded up, a galvanized bucket, shovel, a folding camp chair with canvas seat and back, somewhat like a Hollywood Director’s chair (but not as comfortable) and a metal “mirror”
for use in shaving or general grooming.  In general I suppose I was issued essential items much as a soldier would receive when moving into a forward area and setting up a base camp – without MREs.
In addition I was allotted a canvas water-bag.  When filled with water, this would keep the contents cool by evaporation through the bag.  This was generally, as I learned, hung from the front rear view mirror of your Land Rover for maximum cooling effect. This didn’t work too well on the highway however.   At high speed, on a hot day, the water would completely evaporate and the water bag would be empty when you arrived at your destination.  But it did work well when hung in the shade of a tree.

Over and above these basics, I drew on my own camping experience to purchase appropriate utensils (pots and pans), cups, plates, bowls, etc. and aerosol insecticide.  A key piece of equipment was my basic shower contraption, which I assembled from a 10 gallon can with the bottom removed and a wire hanger attached.  The top end had a removable threaded metal cap. At a hardware store I bought a length of pipe, to which I attached a faucet handle and a wide spray shower nozzle.  This would screw into the hole in top of the 10 gallon can and allow me to control the flow of water.  There is a photograph here of one of the typical showers that field staff would set up when we established camp.  It consisted of a frame made of poles and sticks and a thatch covering around the outside, providing a good degree of privacy. In the middle a shallow hole was dug in the ground over which a small “raft” of sticks was placed and the water would drain through the sticks and seep away.

One of the true, great, pleasures of living in the bush is that moment, when, after a long hot day in the sun, one could step under a container of hot (or very warm) water, reach up, turn on the spigot and let the accumulated dust and sweat of the days exertions be washed away.  I soon learned that I would be covered with many little scratches, abrasions and insect bites.  So I began to add a small bottle-cap measure of a mild antiseptic solution (Sanpic) which took away the itches and stings and kept me from developing sores.

Of course, I was also issued the necessary manuals, maps, aerial photographs, hand-held compass, and documentation regarding methods and procedures for conducting a Tsetse Control field operation.  I registered my .375 magnum rifle with the authorities and would  always carry that with me.  Only once in the following two years would I have to use it for protection; for the most part it often provided the camp and our field staff and laborers with welcomed supplies of game meat.

My government-issue Land Rover was signed over to me soon after my arrival and I was schooled in procedures for obtaining fuel at Government (CMED – Central Mechanical Equipment Department) facilities.  Generally I was to find that government record-keeping procedures were easy to understand and pretty straightforward.  One just had to be careful that the thin sheets of carbon paper were placed between each of the five or six pages of each form and that you pressed firmly with the ballpoint pen and wrote on a hard
surface – such as the hood (or “bonnet”) of the Land Rover.

As far as food goes, in my first few months I stuck to the basics and, over time developed a pretty good list of essentials required to keep me nourished for the 25 days of each month I would spend in the “bush.”  I always took a bag of oranges and apples, as they kept well.  A small bag of flour, a bag of rice, a bag of potatoes, a couple of ball jars of sugar, coffee, etc., a loaf or two of bread that would last maybe a week, two dozen fresh eggs, powdered milk, a fruit juice concentrate to dilute with camp water, some canned meats and vegetables, some spaghetti and other pasta and a few boxes of cookies (or “biscuits” in the local vernacular).  I was rarely close to any towns so ‘running’ to the store for provisions was not often an option.  At times there would be a African owned store in the vicinity and these would provide basic goods such as soap, detergents, tea, soft drinks (sodas), toothpaste, etc.  It was sometimes a welcome stop at these stores as they had kerosene (paraffin) refrigerators or freezers and sometimes an ice-cold Coca-Cola or beer was a real treat. They would have a good selection of basic tools, screws and nails, wire, cast iron cooking pots and a huge
selection of items that you would not generally see in a city store. If it had ever been necessary for me to buy a bicycle, one only had to look overhead and they were hanging from the ceiling.

During one of my field assignments our camp was set up overlooking the Umniati River in the Urungwe Tribal Trust Land (TTL), not too far from a Mission called Sanyati.  In this instance we were able to receive medical treatment should any of our laborers, field officers or camp staff require it. During the two or three months that I was there two of our senior African field officers suddenly developed a severe rash. It seemed like it might be a food allergy but none of the other men had shown similar symptoms and all had been eating pretty much the same food.  The doctors at Sanyati Mission quickly diagnosed the problem as an allergic reaction to eating elephant meat. Application of a skin cream and stopping eating the elephant meat proved the diagnosis was correct and they were back to normal within a few days. We had been provided with a consignment of dried, salted, elephant meat from the Department of Parks and Wildlife and this was quite popular among most of the men. Where else in the world would an allergy to elephant meat show up as a medical emergency?    

Generally speaking, when on a long-term control operation, we would work for 25 consecutive days then return to Salisbury for R&R for five days. So we worked through the weekends and that didn’t give us a break to explore the local hot spots, even if there ever were any.  Our means of communicating with Tsetse control Headquarters was by use of a shortwave radio network.  Working on pre-established
morning and afternoon radio schedules we would call in to headquarters and give a brief daily report on progress or any unexpected occurrences or requirements.  In the event of medical emergencies we could call in at any time of the day. 
  
Soon after my preparations were complete I was sent out to my first assignment to get my feet wet (figuratively speaking of course) and learn the ropes on the forward lines of the Tsetse Wars.  A camp had been set up northwest of Karoi (now Karoyi) on the road heading north toward Makuti and Lake Kariba.  For some reason I recall taking the “Vuti” turnoff, halfway between Karoi and Makuti.

There was nothing at the turnoff except a sign saying Vuti.  From Vuti we drove about 25 or 30 miles on dirt roads and past very productive farms in a Native Purchase Area.  NPAs had been established in Rhodesia many years before to give local tribesmen the ability to buy and hold title to their own land.  This was leading more and more people to move away from the traditional “subsistence farming” mentality that was restricting crop production and prosperity across most countries of Africa.  On my way past the first NPA farms
I had ever seen there were hundreds of bags of harvested cotton awaiting transport to market. Rhodesia, at the time, was producing ever increasing crops of cotton and natives in these NPAs were earning significant cash incomes from their efforts.

I remember talking about this success to an agricultural extension officer in the town of Karoi who told me that each year, several of  the native farmers from the NPAs would come into town after a successful cash crop harvest and buy a new tractor or other implements and pay cash for them.

In my next blog I will describe a typical “Tsetse Fly Control operation” and discuss the seriousness of the tsetse fly threat that exists in Africa today - as it did in the 1960s.