THIS STORY WAS FIRST PUBLISHED IN THE IRISH EXAMINER NEWSPAPER ON ….
Michael O’Farrell
Political Reporter in Kenya
UNDER the shade of a small mango tree, 31-year-old Noah
Otieno sits in front of his crude mud hut holding a blue and
yellow canister of toxic insecticide pellets.
Playing on the red dust beside him, his three-year-old daughter
Maculate can’t stop coughing.
This is Kenya’s Kuria district, which along with the
neighbouring Migori province, ranks as the nation’s poorest.
It is also the heartland of the country’s tobacco-growing
industry.
In these two districts, upwards of 15,000 small farmers, many
of them living in stone age-like conditions, grow tobacco,
mostly for US multinational Standard Commercial (Stancom).
Last October, Stancom merged with another dealer, Dimon, to
create Alliance One, now the world’s largest tobacco seller
with annual revenues approaching E1.5 billion.
The firm sells tobacco to practically all of the world’s
cigarette manufacturers.
But Noah, who has been growing tobacco for three years,
knows none of this. He knows only that tobacco was sold to
him as the crop that would make him rich.
It has not.
He is worse off now than ever before. And, because
tobacco has replaced maize on most of his one-and-a-half acre
farm, his family now has less to eat.
“I changed from maize because tobacco was a kind of
income,” he says as his mother, wife and daughter
listen intently.
Tobacco farming is attractive to many here because the
multinationals provide upfront loans to cover the cost of
seeds, equipment, and pesticides and other inputs they
supply.
The loan is then subtracted from the price paid at the
end of each nine-month growing season.
This primitive form of banking, and the credit it offers, entices
many into choosing tobacco in the hope they will reap large
profits.
But for many, those profits never materialise and
losses are incurred as loans build up and are carried into the
next season.
This season, Noah’s loan from Stancom was worth E160 and
after paying it back, he believes he made a profit of around
E200 for nine months’ work.
But like many in this region, he is not factoring in the cost of
the labour of his wife and 10-year-old daughter Akoth, who
regularly misses school to help – child labour is an increasing
concern of NGOs in tobacco-growing regions.
Nor has he counted in the E100 cost of buying firewood to
cure the tobacco.
Deforestation, as farmers fell more and more trees, is another mounting
concern of NGOs and Kenyan government officials alike.
Stancom, meanwhile, pays farmers like Noah between a dollar
and a few cents per kilo of cured tobacco depending on the
quality. Each kilo goes on to make 1,000 cigarettes and hefty profits for all concerned – except Noah.
But Noah’s concerns don’t stop there. He also has to worry
about the blue and yellow canister of insecticide pellets now
lying on its side in the dust beside him.
Called Orthene, these pellets are one of several brands of
pesticide supplied by Stancom as part of its loans. Other
chemical products supplied to Kenyan tobacco farmers by
multinationals include Confidor 700 and Dithane.
All are mixed in liquid backpacks and sprayed by hand to
ensure pests and insects do not destroy the tobacco leaves.
Following previous safety concerns, and stories of
miscarriages, the latest chemicals are supposed to be less toxic than those previously used.
Nevertheless, a large banner across the bottom of the Orthene
canister reads: “HARMFUL.”
Above diagrams demonstrating the necessity of wearing
protective clothing such as masks and gloves when spraying,
the label reads: “Avoid contact with eyes, skin and clothing.
Avoid inhaling spray mist…Wear protective overalls, masks,
gloves and gumboots when handling… Remove and wash
protective clothing after use and take a bath.”
Noah doesn’t even own a proper pair of shoes, let alone a pair of
gum boots and a bath.
“I’ve got a pain in my chest from the spraying but I can’t
afford to go to the doctor. After spraying and inhaling it, you
feel dizzy and weak in the body,” he says.
Stancom reps, known as leaf technicians, visit regularly to
advise on the crop, but never mention safety.
“When we asked about masks, they said they would bring
them, but they have not,” says Noah.
Throughout the region, farmers tell a similar story. Many
struggle to break even.
All use toxic insecticide sprays; the vast majority without
protective equipment of any sort.
There are exceptions, most notably among those farmers lucky
enough to have large farms, such as Isaamic Onoyango, 42,
who is rich by local standards.
Isaamic made a hefty profit of E3,000 this season and is aware
of the health risks of the insecticides.
But of the 20 farmers visited by the Irish Examiner, Ismaamic and his
brother Charles Odhiambo were the only farmers with gloves
and masks.
Multinationals speak of how they have benefited this
community, bringing jobs and investment.
But after 30 years of tobacco growing, the district remains so poor that the
government had to provide food aid earlier this year.
Cases like 48-year-old Marcel Odira, who has been farming
tobacco since 1999, explain why.
Marcel, who has two acres, made a loss of E40 this season. He
supports seven children and at the beginning of next season,
will take out a new loan, adding it to what he couldn’t pay
back this year.
With no masks or gloves, he also feels sick.
“When you work with the chemicals, it can affect you. You feel tired and you
feel it in your body also. We have to follow what the company
says but the problem is you can’t eat tobacco if you are
hungry.”
………………………………………………………………………..
STANCOM is not the only tobacco multinational operating in
this region.
One of the world’s best known cigarette makers,
British American Tobacco (BAT), led the way in 1974, setting
up much of the infrastructure now used by Stancom.
Although BAT is now moving out of the area, setting up new
operations elsewhere in Kenya, it has rented its Kuria and
Migori buying and distribution centres to Stancom.
Along with most of the world’s cigarette manufacturers, BAT also
purchases substantial amounts of tobacco from Stancom.
BAT boasts annual profits of more than E3.8 billion,
manufacturing more than 300 of the world’s most popular
brands, including Lucky Strike, Benson & Hedges and
Carrolls, the Irish brand made in Dundalk.
The company is the world’s second largest tobacco firm,
selling 780 billion cigarettes every year across 180 countries.
Anti-tobacco lobbyists have estimated that BAT cigarettes
alone could be causing up to 750,000 deaths each year.
But such figures mean nothing to BAT farmer Jared Otieno
Ouma, 28, who farms two acres close to the remote village of
Rapogi.
This season, BAT loaned Jared E150 worth of inputs. He
made only E90 and was not given any health advice about the
chemicals provided by the company.
“They were not explaining about the dangers of the chemicals.
After the spraying, I have breathing problems and a feeling of
tiredness. I feel weak and weary.”
Before he went into tobacco four years ago, Jared was a
bicycle taxi man making E20 a week, more than ten times the
payback he got from BAT this season.
But he is now indebted to BAT and must try to farm again to pay the company back
next year.
Sometimes, even those who turn a profit are unhappy.
Peter Otuoma Oketch, 30, made a profit of E250 this season but
does not believe the tobacco is worth it, since the labour intensive crop means his children must miss school to help.
He too is frustrated at the company’s disregard for his health.
“I’ve seen the masks. They’ve been given to some of the big
farmers but I do not have one. They are not telling us the
reality of the dangers of these chemicals.
“I normally feel sick after that kind of work. I get no appetite
and my stomach gets upset. My doctor advised me that the
problem is due to the inhalation of the toxic things. They are
only after their own benefits, not the benefits of the
community.”
Sitting in his smart air-conditioned office in BAT’s Oyani leaf
centre 20km away, area manager Isaac Njeru listens politely
and refuses to answer any questions.
He has been given three weeks’ notice of our visit.
With a smile, he refers us to BAT’s press office in Nairobi – the same
office which has failed to respond to Irish Examiner e-mail
and telephone messages three weeks beforehand.
But the BAT position is clear and has been outlined numerous
times on its website in recent years as charities and lobby
groups produce damning reports about the plight of company
farmers from Kenya to Brazil.
BAT systematically rejects any suggestion that its farmers are
treated badly or underpaid. Health advice is given and
protective equipment is made available to farmers at cost, the
company insists.
The company has also put in place an extensive Corporate
Social Responsibility (CSR) programme headed up by British
Conservative Party figurehead Kenneth Clarke.
In 2000, it paid E5.4m to fund a new CSR centre at the University of
Nottingham.
But back in Kenya, one of the firm’s leaf technicians has
agreed to speak on condition of anonymity. He paints a very
different picture than that presented in the company’s CSR
reports.
At first, the employee defends BAT’s contribution to the
community.
“There are several professors out there now
because of tobacco. I went to school because of tobacco
money.”
But he is uneasy about the company’s approach to farmer
safety, particularly in the past.
“Nothing was done for so many years and people have died. Everybody was inhaling this
chemical. Slowly by slowly, some people got sick with funny
diseases which they couldn’t comprehend. I feel so sad: it’s
not good but the company doesn’t want such issues discussed.
They don’t want us to talk about this.”
According to the employee, who is responsible for overseeing
more than 150 farmers, masks were given in his area for the
first time this year, although not all farmers received them.
Joseph Onyando, a former BAT leaf technician for 17 years,
agrees to speak openly, saying the firm knows of the safety
concerns.
“Yeah, they are aware. They are quite aware. The tobacco
companies need to do a lot on farmer safety – especially the
use of chemicals. People inside company premises are
provided with masks, so why not the farmers?”
CHAIN SMOKING as he speaks, Stancom’s national leaf-
growing manager, Patrick Kimani, leads us on a tour of the
company’s Suba Kuria leaf centre.
Part of the walk-around involves a look at a tree nursery
which provides free tree seedlings to farmers in order to
counter deforestation.
Asked about health concerns, Mr Kimani admits there were
problems with chemicals used in the past, but is adamant the
company has acted responsibly.
“I feel bad. The only consolation I have is we have gotten out
of hazardous chemicals. Nobody sued anybody. People’s
health can fail for a lot of different reasons. I think we have
acted responsibly by getting out of those chemicals.”
He is unaware of any reports of problems with the newer
chemicals, and safety equipment, he says, is available to
farmers to buy for E30.
Asked why the company cannot issue masks and gloves like it
does for direct employees, his rhetoric is businesslike.
“That’s E500,000 for all 15,000 farmers. That discussion ends
up at the same place. It’s E500,000. At local level, it’s
impossible.”
Asked how much Stancom will earn from the 10 million kilos
of tobacco those farmers have produced this year, he shrugs,
saying it depends on too many factors to put a figure on it.
But if each kilo goes on to make 1,000 cigarettes as is
commonly accepted, it’s obvious the figure is a huge one.
Despite claims from the multinationals that their presence
benefits the community, those best placed to judge – the
government officials in charge of the area – think otherwise.
Helen Omondi, the government’s deputy
agriculture officer for the Migori district, points out that
tobacco has contributed to a situation which saw her
department deliver emergency food aid earlier this year.
“The amount of farmers living behind the poverty line is very
high…Tobacco production is a big challenge to food
production. The food deficit becomes quite high.”
Government soil preservation officer for the Kuria district,
James Odungo, has other concerns.
“Most of the tobacco sites are situated close to water sources
.We have had some cases of biotic life being lost in the rivers,
like fish and frogs. Some of these chemicals are not easily
biodegradable. It is a serious environmental hazard.”
He is also worried about the health of farmers.
“We are really pessimistic about the health of farmers when it comes to
tobacco production.”
And as for masks and safety equipment?
“When you go to [the multinationals], they will say that they always provide them.
But they don’t. It’s only the people in their plants. The
common farmer is not protected.”
The medical consequences of this lack of safety equipment are
also evident to Kiptoon Godfrey, a clinical officer at Migori
District Hospital. He is used to dealing with farmers’
complaints.
“They get coughing and incidents of difficult breathing and the like. It’s around that season when they are doing the spraying – that’s when there are more
cases.”
Government development officer for Kuria, George Ayona,
agrees.
“The health issue is a real problem. The percentage of
people with complaints is increasing. It is not a hidden thing.
It is known that when tobacco is there, the number of patients
go up.”
And like all the officials above, Mr Ayona believes his area
would be better off had the tobacco multinationals never come
in the first place.
“The problem I’m seeing is that tobacco isn’t helping the
farmers. This is still the poorest district in Kenya.
THIS PROJECT WAS FUNDED BY THE DEVELOPMENT EDUCATION UNIT OF DEVELOPMENT COOPERATION IRELAND
