“RUGURU (upcountry ) IS BAD. TOO MUCH RAIN.”
It comes in a message from Anicet, one of our coffee scouts at the end of last year.
The heavy rains have caused soil to spill down the steep slope our Heza washing station is built on, stopping just short of the cherry reception tanks. Part of the road leading to Heza has crumbled away, making it impossible for anything or anyone to pass. We have to make our way on back roads to reach Heza now, adding an extra hour onto our already two-and-a-half-hour journey.
The rain started coming down in October and the ground hasn’t been dry since. It’s not unusual to have rain this time of year, but it is unusual to have so much. The reality is, Burundi doesn’t have the kind of infrastructure to handle all this rain. There are no real gutters here. No retaining walls or storm drains. Entire roads wash away, becoming one big deadly beast that makes its way through neighborhoods. This devastation spills over into farmers’ fields, uprooting crops. It breaks down homes, church buildings, erodes roads and sometimes claims lives.
“YOU CAN’T GO 500M WITHOUT SEEING THE DAMAGE FROM THE RAIN. IT’S TOUCHING EVERYTHING, NOT JUST THE COFFEE.” – Merchicedeck, coffee farmer on Gikungere hill
We’ve heard heartbreaking stories of friends waking up in the middle of the night, their belongings floating all around them. Families have spent days sweeping and scooping rainwater out of their homes by the bucketful. Raging knee-deep rivers have cut off entire neighbourhoods from one another.
Last week we took to the coffee hills to see how our farming community was feeling about all the rain. On the way up, the one national road was blocked by piles of mud that had spilled down from the surrounding mountains, making it impossible for cars to pass. Trucks that usually haul goods and fuel across Bujumbura (Burundi’s economic capital) were stopped dead in their tracks. Lines of cars snaked both up and down the road, waiting for the mud to be cleared by hand. We counted two broken pipelines spilling precious water across the road with no one to fix them in sight.
“THE BEGINNING OF COFFEE HARVEST IS SUPPOSED TO BE A HAPPY TIME FOR US, BUT THE RAIN IS BECOMING OUR ENEMY.” – Pascal, coffee farmer from Munyinya hill
This is not just a challenge for Burundi. It’s a hard truth to swallow for South Sudan, Central African Republic, Uganda, DR Congo, Sudan, Djibouti, Ethiopia, Somalia, Kenya and Tanzania.
“MY FAMILY’S LIFE STANDS ON COFFEE. WE WERE EXPECTING A LOT OF IT THIS YEAR, BUT DAY BY DAY I WATCH IT DISAPPEAR. THE RIPENING COFFEE CHERRIES AND LEAVES KEEP FALLING OFF THE TREES BECAUSE OF THE HEAVY RAIN.” – Abel, coffee farmer from Munyinya hill
Almost as quickly as the heavy rains came down, they slipped away again. We celebrate the dry days, our ears still prickling at the sound of rumbling thunder and dreading the pitter-patter of fresh rain.
4:45 am. Neo wakes up and starts laughing, talking loudly, singing,etc.
We are here to make a difference. It won’t happen overnight, or in three months. Our vision is still the same. I just need to breathe, be patient, and realize that something bad or frustrating will happen today (yes, it will). But that frustration will not define us or our hope for this place.
In silence I can finally see you.
… I totally have this! I’m a rock-star! I can drive, sort of communicate, drop my kid off at a French speaking school every day like it’s no big deal, make friends… life is a breeze! Just at that moment, I realized I don’t have this. At all. After a busy week shuttling Ben and hosting visitors from all over the world for Burundi’s most crucial coffee moment this year, the Burundi Prestige Cup (a precursor to the 
…about 180 to go.
Sometimes, but not always, I think this might be too hard for me.