Sudan: clean-burning gas stoves have the power to transform lives in North Darfur
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Version 0 of 1. It is 5pm and 20-year-old Omar is making coffee while his mother and sisters relax. It is a scene totally unremarkable to most people across the world. In a camp in Sudan’s North Darfur, however, this is a sign of a gender revolution. Until recently, Omar’s mother, Batool, 47, had cooked for her family over an open fire in the kitchen and was forced to walk for miles almost daily to collect the fuel. In a region as unstable as North Darfur, this is a risky undertaking. The camp where Omar and his family live is near the city of El Fasher, where the streets are full of UN vehicles, government troops and trucks full of armed men – the legacy of years of civil war. This region lacks infrastructure, rule of law and a structured society. Many people have lost everything – including family members – to raids by armed groups. Collecting firewood leaves women vulnerable to violent, sometimes sexual, attacks, by groups of armed men. After walking barefoot for miles, dragging firewood beside them, many women suffer almost permanent wounds to their hands and feet. Related: Sudan briefing: Darfur's deep descent into chaos Deforestation has also damaged large swaths of previously fertile land, while the woodsmoke produced by indoor stoves is highly toxic. Although any development against this background is difficult, an estimated 500,000 people in North Darfur have benefited from a set of hugely resilient community networks. These groups – which represent everyone from blacksmiths and farmers to female handicraft-makers and potters – act in a similar way to a union, or trade association. They were set up by the charity I work for, Practical Action, around 30 years ago and their scope extends far beyond the city limits. Those heading these organisations have been given extensive leadership and management training, which has allowed them to continue to operate despite the chaos. In fact, they have proved so successful they have become independent, raising their own funds, delivering training in new techniques and technologies and distributing seeds and livestock. This stove has changed our lives. My hands and feet were always painful and wounded but now they are completely healed Each one has links to remote communities and some of the hardest to reach people in Darfur – single women, internally displaced people, marginalised manual workers and remote farmers. Their potential for good once the war abates is endless. Omar and Batool’s family is one of 15,000 households with a new gas stove, distributed via the Darfurian Women’s Development Network. The stoves work from LPG gas, a by-product of the oil industry in Sudan. Batool will pay back the cost of the stove (around $70), over a set number of months agreed with the network, which will manage and administer the loan. Though my staff act as brokers for the initial funding needed to buy the stoves, provide training and monitor the project, the rest is done by the network. The impact of the stoves is summed up by Batool, whom I met just a few months ago. She told me: “It is hard to believe, but this stove has changed our lives. My hands and feet were always painful and wounded but now they are completely healed. My children are also healed from coughing and the eye infections that they used to constantly suffer from. Furthermore, I don’t have to ask my eldest girls to look after the younger ones while I leave the house to get wood, so they are able to go to school and be educated while I can make handicrafts to sell. And look: my son is now making me coffee.” |