The rain is two months late. In Tennessee, where I live, we always have rain. No one thinks about it. But here – it’s an entirely different matter. Maun is in the Kalahari Desert. It’s a dry place by any measure. But this year, the livestock are literally dying on the sides of the roads for lack of food and water. Last week, I drove to Lake Ngami, about 100 km southwest of Maun for field work. I passed over 10 carcasses in various stages of decay – mostly cattle and a donkey or two. That’s one carcass every 10 km. And those are just the ones visible from the road. A week ago I saw a horse lying in the baking sun, taking its last breaths. I can tell you – that is not an easy sight.
I wonder that people do not do more for their animals. But people are also being pushed to their limits. Imagine carrying river water for miles in the hot sun as temperatures soar above 100 degrees F (40 degrees C). The water would be for children, not donkeys. Also, by tradition, people let their animals forage freely across the landscape. That’s why there are cattle, goats, and donkeys clogging intersections in Maun and stopping traffic on the highways. For most of the year, there is no need to actively feed livestock. They can find what they need by roaming around.
With the air hot and the earth dry, you can imagine what it’s like when the rain comes. And it started two days ago. It came as big drops, falling amid thunder and lightning, rushing to fill gulleys and flood trenches. It drenched me outside a grocery store. It is the talk of the town. If it keeps falling, it will save this place for another year.