Kilifi County locals sell off heritage to survive, drive salt trade

A man points at cashew nut logs that are ready for sale to a salt processing factory. [Photo: Standard]

By DANN OKOTH

KILIFI COUNTY; KENYA: An environmental degradation and economic disaster is unfolding in Magarini constituency in Kilifi County amidst a thriving salt processing industry.

Residents are felling decade-old cashew nut trees and selling them to salt miners as wood fuel to beat grinding poverty.

Cashew nut is the main cash crop in most of Kilifi County, while mangoes play a vital economic role in the rather dry region.

For the price of Sh1,500 per tree, the residents cut down grown cashew nut and mango trees with abandon — even as the salt factories capitalise on the vulnerability of locals to preside over a massive environmental degradation.

Wood fuel

The companies use wood fuel alternative to dry the salt in place of the more expensive electricity — but the mere fact that the factories gobble up huge quantities of fuel wood per day has raised the demand for wood, leading to huge swathes of tree being lost in Magarini.

According to a worker at one of the salt mines in Gongoni, Magarini, the factory can consume up to 500 tonnes of wood per day, which amounts to 15,000 tonnes per month and 180,000 tonnes per year.

“But the amount of wood fuel used depends on the amount of salt being dried each day,” says the worker, who identified himself only as Kazungu for fear of a reprisal from the company.

“Other times when we have more orders, this amount can increase two-fold, and the company often runs out of wood supply and are forced to look beyond Malindi for supply,” he says.

A hectare of cashew nut or mango trees can yield some 50 tonnes of wood fuel that translates to 10 hectares of trees being lost per day.

It takes between five to seven years for indigenous cashew nut species to grow to maturity and at least three to five years for hybrid breeds, the same applies to mango trees.

Sadly, the residents and the company do not replant the fields where the trees have been cut, a development that is quickly turning Magarini into a scorching desert.

But it is the utter desperation among local residents to sell off their heritage at a throwaway price that amplifies the face of biting poverty.

In a span of six months, Francis Nguma has cut down and sold the entire six hectare of cashew nut trees to Krystalline Salt Factory in exchange for Sh375,000 — and he has regrets about it despite the fact that the farm has been the backbone of the family’s sustenance.

“When Krystalline started using wood fuel to dry salt a year ago, I saw an opportunity to make a bit of money selling the cashew nut trees I inherited from my father,” says the 42-year-old father of eight.

“I knew it was a gamble but the money I earned from the tree sales put the food on the table for my family and ensured my seven children remained in school,” he says.

But it doesn’t take long to notice that Nguma is again undergoing hard times financially as exemplified by the badly frayed huts that dot his compound. He can hardly afford three square meals a day for his family.

Others who sold their trees to the salt mining firm did so to spite the government and county agriculture-marketing officials who have little or nothing to help the locals to market their crop and provide support.

“For the trees were more of a curse than a blessing and I was only relieved that I got rid of them,” says Jared Katana.

For years, he says, he was saddled with his crop after failing to find a market for his produce. In addition, poor prices offered for the crop whenever a market was found was also a constant source of discouragement for farmers.

Frustration then turned to anger — with many farmers resorting to burning the trees for charcoal. However, the arrival at the scene by Krystalline exacerbated a disaster that had been simmering for decades.

But other than just buying trees from farmers on a willing-buyer willing-seller basis, Krystalline has also been accused of clearing forests to pave way for salt drying ground, thereby contributing to environmental degradation. The firm has strongly denied the allegation.

Instead, Krystalline says it is sourcing alternative energy means to meets its processing needs.

For Mzee Ngombo Kalu in Kanagoni village in Marereni sub-location, maize has been at the centre of his survival for decades, but the advent of salt mining in his village changed matters overnight.

Nothing, it seems, can grow in the soil anymore after the land was exposed to sea wind and sea salt after Krystalline allegedly cleared the mangrove forest that for years acted as a sink and barrier to the harmful elements.

“The winds coming from the ocean are fierce and they are laden with salt, which cannot allow anything to grow on the land anymore,” he says.

He says his yields started dwindling two years ago from a previous harvest of 25 sacks of maize to less than five bags in subsequent harvests.

“Recently, however, I would count myself lucky if I manage to get a sack or two. Even the more hardy sorghum crop cannot cope with the prevailing harsh environmental conditions and I hardly get two sacks from my 10-acre plot,” he says.

The move to clear the forests by the company, the villagers claim, was meant to drive away the residents so the company can expand its salt pans.

Yesterday, we reported that hundreds of men and women are working in the salt mines without protective gear in Magarini constituency in Kilifi County.

 Yet experts say exposure to the hyper-saline water increases the chances of spontaneous abortion in pregnant women, who are the majority salt workers.

The attendant wanton environmental degradation resulting from releasing hyper-saline water into the surrounding environment not only threatens entire ecosystems — but also puts hundreds of livelihoods at risk.