“I have young sons who must have stolen the camera and taken pictures without me knowing.”
Damien is a seventy-seven-year-old coffee farmer from Nkonge hill in Burundi who seems to carry his walking cane, worn leather hat and good sense of humour everywhere he goes. The last time that Damien held a copy of his photograph was when he applied for his national identity card in the early 1960s.
He waved his cane wildly in the air a couple of times when talking about his photos, laughing at himself when he couldn’t quite make out what he had tried to capture. “I have young sons who must have stolen the camera and taken pictures without me knowing,” he told us while flicking through his stack of printed photos for the first time. Damien comes from a big but tightly-knit family. He has over thirty grandchildren, and the youngest love walking to his house to spend time with their sokuru1.
“In our family, everyone helps with coffee. During the coffee harvest, we all pick our coffee cherries and carry them to the washing station.”
My grandchildren and neighbor’s children. They were playing together, and I asked them to raise their hands so that I could take their photo. I enjoy playing with my grandchildren. They come to my house to play. I can also ask them to help me with things if my wife is not at home, like fetching water.
My house is on the left. These clothes were out to dry. We use tree branches to hang our clothes on.
My grandchildren are in this photo. They were playing with the neighbors’ children when they asked grandpa to take a photo, then others came who also wanted to be in the picture. I enjoy having a big family. We are close and have good relationships.
Beans are very important in Burundi. I think all over the world they are eating beans. We eat more beans than Rwanda.
This cow belongs to my niece. It has its own room in their house. It’s really fat, which pleases me.
My neighbor was sitting in front of his banana trees. He took this position just for the photo.
Footnotes
Sokuru (Kirundi: grandfather)
“Before + Now” is dedicated to bringing the voices of marginalized coffee farmers into the field of vision of everyday coffee consumers. It includes a series of photographs made by coffee farmers in Burundi, East Africa as well as a large-format portrait of each farmer. This series makes it possible not only to see life in East Africa and the coffee process, but also to connect clearly with the dreams, fears, and hopes of coffee farmers. Read more about “Before + Now” here.
When she was just sixteen years old, a student named Emilienne fell in love and dropped out of school, choosing marriage over her schoolbooks. In 1993, just four years later, she tragically lost her young husband to the civil war ensuing the assassination of Burundi’s first democratically elected president. Emilienne was five months pregnant with their third child at the time.
“Family is very important to me. When I lost my husband, my mother and brothers helped me with everything.”
Burundi still has ways to go when it comes to the laws underpinning a woman’s right to inheriting, controlling and owning land. She put up an incredible fight when her in-laws tried to chase Emilienne and her two young girls out of her late husband’s home. With a loan from her mother and the support of her brothers, Emilienne was able to buy a piece of land and build a bigger home for her growing family.
“My favorite thing about being a mother is that when you have children, you are not alone.”
It was years later when she would meet Salvator, a widowed coffee farmer from a neighboring hill. Despite living apart from one another for several years, Emilienne and Salvator have since raised four children together. They still walk to see each other every day, and are waiting until their eldest children are married before moving in together.
The last time I had a photo of myself, I was seventeen years old. It was a picture taken by a priest, but stolen during the war. I will keep this photo in my house and always look at it.
I built this house alone. I am proud to have this big house because when I got married, we were living in a small house. My mother helped me by giving me a loan and I am still paying her back.
My son Irakoze’s chickens. He took this picture.
A poster in my brother’s house. It’s beautiful. Hanging in front is paper from notebooks that we cut to make decorations. My son learnt how to make them at school.
My brother’s son and daughter. Family is very important to me. During my single life, my brothers helped me so much.
“Before + Now” is dedicated to bringing the voices of marginalized coffee farmers into the field of vision of everyday coffee consumers. It includes a series of photographs made by coffee farmers in Burundi, East Africa as well as a large-format portrait of each farmer. This series makes it possible not only to see life in East Africa and the coffee process, but also to connect clearly with the dreams, fears, and hopes of coffee farmers. Read more about “Before + Now” here.
Apollinaire has grown coffee for more than four decades but rarely had the chance to taste it.
“I only drink coffee when they give it to us at the washing station. Coffee is sweet. I like it more than tea.”
Like many other coffee-farming parents in Burundi, Apollinaire has gone to great lengths teaching his children how to grow and care for coffee. “Children don’t want to grow coffee because they know that their parents have already planted it. They’ll wait until we are no longer around to farm our coffee”, he sighs. “In general, young people are lazy and don’t enjoy farming that much. They are different from older people.”
As the head of three coffee farming associations and an active member of other community-based projects, Apollinaire is also a leader in his community. “It was the first time that I’d heard of farmers having cameras and taking photos,” he says, “but I know that when I show people the photos that I took, it will bring them much joy and happiness.”
At my brother’s house. I took this because I knew I would be getting it back. The last time I had a photo of myself was when I got my identity card in 2005.
A coffee plantation. The cherries were red and ripe. Athanase, my friend, is on the bicycle. He was borrowing it so that he could deliver his coffee to the washing station.
My cow. It’s very important to me. It gives me fertilizer and it will give birth soon. I’m happy because then I will have milk to sell and give to my grandchildren.
These are small zucchinis that I planted in my coffee plantation. We eat the root and the leaves, but they also protect the soil.
My big tea plantation that has been stolen by my cousin. We went to court and I won the case, but my cousin’s workers are still picking tea in the plantation. This is something that hurts me, but I hope in the future I will have it back again.
This is where we sell our tea and it gets put in the truck. I drink it, but coffee is sweeter, and I like it more than tea.
“Before + Now” is dedicated to bringing the voices of marginalized coffee farmers into the field of everyday coffee consumers. It includes a series of photographs made by coffee farmers in Burundi, East Africa as well as a large-format portrait of each farmer. This series makes it possible not only to see life in East Africa and the coffee process, but also to connect clearly with the dreams, fears, and hopes of coffee farmers. Read more about “Before + Now” here.
“I liked seeing other people’s photos and hearing their opinions. Doing that, getting closer as a community, helps us to grow.”
Salvator is a forty-two year old coffee farmer from Gaharo hill in Burundi. He comes from a big family, and is a father to four young children- all of whom he dotes on.“Family is so important to me, especially children. Without them, you cannot be happy.”
During the week, Salvator is not just focused on farming. He is also a member of a Village Savings and Loan Association, the Red Cross, and a traditional brick-making association. It’s not uncommon for people to travel all the way from Bujumbura, the country’s capital city, to the northern province of Muramvya1 to buy the bricks that are made in this region.
“One of the association’s laws is ‘ubuntu’ or humanity. It is important for me to have ubuntu where I live, in my community.”
To have “Ubuntu” is to respect, love and help each other so that we can grow together. In Kirundi (the local language spoken in Burundi) “Ubuntu” refers to the grace and humanity of each person that can be shown to other people. It is a complex term that comes from the Bantu languages mostly spoken in Sub-Saharan Africa. It has many interpretations and definitions, but is commonly translated as, “I am because we are.”
“My mom is on the right with my sister who was carrying a baby. They were preparing traditional banana wine that we were going to give as a gift to a relative who was having a party. This is important to me, because no one can manage to prepare a party alone without the help of family, neighbors, and friends. We also used to prepare the wine to drink at home but now there is a disease that attacks the bananas, turning the plant’s leaves yellow. When one banana is attacked, all the trees in the plantation are infected. I had 23 bananas trees but now I have only 5. This disease has particularly affected Munyinya2 hill where you can only see a desert where there were once bananas plantations…”
“A salon that belongs to my brother-in-law. He promised to teach me how to style hair.”
“Our Village Savings and Loan Association of twenty members from the neighborhood. We meet twice a month, and everyone contributes the money he/she has. We use this money to give loans to the members and they reimburse with interest. After one year everyone receives the amount they contributed, and we share the interests from loans.”
“I am a member of an association called Dufyature turwanye nyakatsi (Kirundi: “Let’s make bricks and fight against houses made entirely of straw”). We make bricks to sell. This man was finalizing our kiln so that we could fire the bricks. After the sale, we keep the capital in the association’s fund, share the profits, and pay communal tax. We manufacture these bricks ourselves without outside labor and we sell them twice a year.”
“The man had just helped this woman putting the bricks down and she was happy because they were heavy and difficult to carry. The people who do this job have to climb over a mountain to carry the bricks from where they are made to the main road. It’s hard work that is done by poor people who don’t have another choice.”
Footnotes
Muramvya is a province in the central part of the country, and also Salvator’s home province.
Munyinya hill is a distinct geo-political region in the Muramvya Province.
“Before + Now” is dedicated to bringing the voices of marginalized coffee farmers into the field of vision of everyday coffee consumers. It includes a series of photographs made by coffee farmers in Burundi, East Africa as well as a large-format portrait of each farmer. This series makes it possible not only to see life in East Africa and the coffee process; but also to connect clearly with the dreams, fears, and hopes of coffee farmers. Read more about “Before + Now” here.
collected and translated by Joy Mavugo in conjunction with Robyn-Leigh van Laren from the Long Miles Story team
There was much rejoicing at the Long Miles Coffee Washing Stations recently as farmer payday took place. Payday is always one heavy with anticipation, excitement, and chaos of the happiest kind. It’s the one day of the year when all of the coffee farming families that we work with receive payment for the coffee cherries that they delivered during harvest season.
“ Payment day is a special day. It’s a day of building trust between a farmer and a buyer.”
– Honorate Dugunya, a coffee farmer from Ninga hill.
In the days leading up to it, our team works hard behind the scenes filling every person’s envelope with the season’s earnings and preparing for one big reunion with the coffee farming communities that we work with. This year, payday may have looked different from how it usually does but our team is unwaveringly grateful that it took place. We also celebrated a milestone; making our first set of payments at the newly built Ninga Washing Station site.
“To have a washing station on Ninga hill is like a country that fought for independence and got it. I will always celebrate this victory.No one will take it from us.”
– Paul Ntahondi, a coffee farmer from Ninga hill
There is an endless list of things that we are thankful for this harvest season. Paying every single coffee farmer that we work with is one of them.
From the Farm
written by Seth Nduwayo, Quality Control Manager for Long Miles Coffee
Frequently, I have referred to rain as a big challenge. We could lack it when it was expected and vice versa. For three months, from July to September, there was no rain as it was a dry season. Now we are at the end of September. October is knocking from the horizon. We have experienced some rain yet at Bujumbura and sometimes at Gitega, Budeca, where we took our coffee for dry milling. As coffee is not out on drying beds you may wonder why the blessing (rain) is evoked again as a challenge. In fact, the rain comes with cold weather, and humidity increases in warehouses. Thus, when the relative humidity is higher than that of coffee in storage, the latter start regaining moisture. As you can hear this, the end of one battle opens a door to the next. So, today we fight for having all the remaining lots milled, hand-picked, and sealed in Grain-pro as soon as possible. When all coffee is in Grain-pro, then we don’t have to worry about rainfall the same as before. This is the battle we will be fighting over the next couple of weeks.
From the Lab
written by David Stallings, Roaster Relations for Long Miles Coffee
This week we began our final dry-milling program for the Burundi season. Milling, which involves removing the parchment layer, or, in the case of naturally processed coffee, removing the fruit that has dried around the coffee seed, is, by itself, a speedy process. After the seeds are stripped of their botanical accouterment, they pass through various grading apparatuses. These include devices that separate the seeds by size, density, and color. Many metric tons of coffee can pass through the mill in a single day. The process that follows, however, is low tech and time-consuming. That process is, of course, the handpicking of the coffee. Absolutely critical to the production of top quality specialty coffee, our lots get handpicked upwards to five times! In a few short days, all of our Burundi lots for the year will have been milled. The next two to three weeks will be filled with handpicking the coffee.
It is a race to the finish from here. As Seth mentioned in his section above, we want to get the lots handpicked as soon as possible because that allows us to get them into Grain-pro and thus hermetically sealed and safe from the impending rainy season. Too frequently, as a green coffee buyer, I have seen the onset of a rainy season in any given country of production, as a strike against the quality of the green coffee. This is especially true for coffees that are on the margins of not being fully dried. Coffees for which taking on a small amount of moisture pushes them into territory that encourages the quick degradation of what we perceive as freshness. I am so pleased to know firstly, that all of our lots were dried exceptionally well this year and, secondly, that our timeline concerning getting these final lots into Grain-pro is looking very good.
Once this process is complete we will continue loading containers and sending them around the world. A record year for us, we have already loaded and dispatched two containers from this harvest. In a few short weeks that number will be seven. The past two years have been important ones in strengthening relationships with importing partners in various markets. While we work directly with as many of our roasting partners as possible, we have found it essential to have key relationships in various markets around the world. Not only are these partners service providers, moving the coffees from Burundi to their destination market, but they are also critical in helping facilitate relationships with smaller roasting partners. This year, our coffees can be found with the following importers:
If you are in one of these markets and interested in coffee this year, please reach out to me. I will be only too happy to work on a plan with you to either send you samples directly or connect you with one of the above-mentioned importers. Whether we are sending you samples and handling contracts directly or having an importing partner help facilitate the process, it is so important to us that we connect with you personally and work together on and through the process!
*If you are in the Australian market and interested in coffees from this season, please reach out to our Burundi Lab Manager, Jordan, who was not able to make it to Burundi this year due to the pandemic, and is native to and currently located in Australia!
This Cape Town shoot is in honor of a woman who loved and crafted beautiful things and taught me the value of doing the same. My beautiful Grandma. Photographed for the love of art, this was pure vida and it’s all for her. On the day of her funeral…
It’s true. I sometimes wish there was an open window and I could just fly myself “home” to the people who have loved me from birth and the places that I have seen forever. This week has been hard for me. The “toughness” of life in Africa has seeped into my being and I have found myself wishing I could just fly away. Until you have lived it, you might never know what I mean. We all have our own challenges that are unique to us in this life, and I am not saying my life is more of a challenge than yours… but I am saying there is a difference between visiting a place like this and LIVING IN IT. If you are going through something tough this week HERE IS ME saying to you that YOU ARE NOT ALONE. I am journeying too. I’m having a “tough one” too and I appreciate your bravery and the decisions you are making to pull yourself up by your bootstraps.
I sometimes go running on the streets of Bujumbura. I’m a “gym” or “health club” (or whatever you call it in the US of A) girl at heart, but sometimes the road calls and I just have to get on it. Often, as I run, Burundians will shout out, “COURAGE! COURAGE!” I love that in both French and English this word is the same. This week, via Brene Brown’s beautiful book The Gifts of Imperfection, I learned that…
“The root of the word courage is cor– the Latin word for heart. In one of it’s earliest forms, the word courage had a very different definition than it does today. Courage originally meant, “To speak one’s mind by telling one’s heart.”
Now when people shout, “Courage!” at me I can’t help but think, “Thank you. I need it… but not for this run.” I need courage to tell my story even when it hits bumpy parts. Courage to continue on. Courage to stay firmly on the ground for the time being.
Today I was talking to some friends about joy. Specifically about what gives us joy. Photography and family were the two things that immediately popped into my head. Yes, I LOVE photographing other things… but I feel so much joy photographing my boys’ journeys into grown-up-hood (lets face it… they might protest this whole thing soon!). Like that photograph of my Biggest Little and his “Myles’ Magic French Words” card. We made him that so he had words he could show his teacher if he was struggling to understand French at school. Lentement means slowly, in case he wanted his teacher to speak more slowly. I don’t think he ever used his magic French cards at school, but it made him feel more secure having them. Now he doesn’t even take them to school anymore. He just speaks.
So much of life can be forgotten so quickly. We humans adapt and adjust, and before we know it… we forget that things were ever different. That’s why I photograph them… so that I remember how we like to make a game of having no electricity, that they once loved to cuddle, that my Littlest Little sometimes puts his foot up on the table after he’s eaten breakfast, that they can’t get enough of building towers or hijacking the nearest computer. I never want to forget, because it all goes SO FAST doesn’t it?
We are back in Burundi (holy-moly-jet-lag-Batman!) and I have been nervous and excited about sharing these film images with you. We are finally back online, my husband BOUGHT ME A DESK (that’s a huge deal, as I was doing all my blogging, editing, writing, etc. from the couch or the bed or the table), and our “biggest little” is back in school.
So many photographers are doing it these days. Snapping up a film camera and giving it a go. It is a way to differentiate yourself from the crowd of photographers, to make yourself feel more authentic in the age of the “self taught” digital photographers crowding the marketplace. Many people also do it because of the amazing success a handful of photographers have had with film (Jose Villa, Jonathan Canlas, Ryan Muirhead, Elizabeth Messina to name just a few). Do mine look anything like theirs? Nope, not at all… but that really wasn’t the point for me.
Why did I choose to start shooting film? Definitely to feel more authentic. To feel more connected with the art form that I am in love with. To go deeper with it. To understand light in a new way. Truth be told, I was getting a bit bored with digital. Being in Burundi, away from my newly established photography business, I was feeling the need to stretch my legs a bit.
I will probably ALWAYS shoot digital, especially while we are in Burundi with no processing labs for film nearby. I owe a whole lot to digital. Would I have become a photographer if digital wasn’t accessible and fairly easy to teach myself? Pretty sure the answer is no. Have I begun a love affair with film that won’t end any time soon? You bet-cha! Do I have a million and one things to learn about film? For sure. Do I have a million and one things to learn about digital? Maybe just a million.
Film is teaching me some great things. It’s teaching me how to slow down. How to take risks (with the high cost of buying and processing medium format film, every frame is a risk!). The challenge of learning something new is ridiculously frustrating and exciting all at once. When I processed my last batch of film, three rolls came back empty. Sometimes learning the hard way is the only way, right?
It’s true. I sometimes wish there was an open window and I could just fly myself “home” to the people who have loved me from birth and the places that I have seen forever. This week has been hard for me. The “toughness” of life in Africa has seeped into my being and I have found myself wishing I could just fly away. Until you have lived it, you might never know what I mean. We all have our own challenges that are unique to us in this life, and I am not saying my life is more of a challenge than yours… but I am saying there is a difference between visiting a place like this and LIVING IN IT. If you are going through something tough this week HERE IS ME saying to you that YOU ARE NOT ALONE. I am journeying too. I’m having a “tough one” too and I appreciate your bravery and the decisions you are making to pull yourself up by your bootstraps.
