Doing Fieldwork in a Silent War Zone: A Journey into the Heart of the Vidunda Village

Imagine stepping into a region where the tension in the air is palpable not from bombs or weapons, but from ideologies clashing over something as vital as water. This is what it felt like to conduct fieldwork in the Vidunda Village, nestled in the hills of Tanzania’s Kilombero valley, which is an important sub-catchment of the Rufiji River basin. Here, the villagers’ age-old wisdom of managing water resources stands in stark contrast to conservation goals. The battle for the future of the landscape rages quietly, yet intensely.

Vidunda is a village in a unique geographical setting perched on the mountains, with access to vital water sources that feed the valley below. Historically, the villagers have relied on their own science to manage water, a system that has supported their livelihoods for generations. This knowledge, passed down through the ages, involves careful management of natural springs, the strategic use of banana trees, and an intimate understanding of the ecosystem. For them, water management is not just a necessity; it’s an intrinsic part of their cultural identity.

The landscape view from Vidunda village

Seeing Vidunda through the eyes of conservationists:

Conservation proponents and the government have a different view of Vidunda. For these proponents, the people’s way of life and their traditional water management practices are destructive to the environment. Before our visit to the village, we had already heard the conservation narratives that speak towards promoting agroforestry to restore the catchment and the landscape which are threatened by human activities. On the way up a very steep hill, we could see the global footprints of conservation actors on a signpost that directed us to the village. We started seeing the post long before getting to the village, which is unusual unless there are actors who want to secure and protect particular interests and mark their presence.  The signpost below has an important information about how Vidunda is connected to the activities of global conservation actors. It also speaks to the fact that even in this remote area, global interests are secured.

Village sign

Seeing Vidunda Through the Eyes of Conservationists:

Conservation proponents and the government have a different view of Vidunda. For these proponents, the people’s way of life and their traditional water management practices are destructive to the environment. Before our visit to the village, we had already heard the conservation narratives that speak towards promoting agroforestry to restore the catchment and the landscape which are threatened by human activities. On the way up a very steep hill, we could see the global footprints of conservation actors on a signpost that directed us to the village. We started seeing the post long before getting to the village, which is unusual unless there are actors who want to secure and protect particular interests and mark their presence.  The signpost below has an important information about how Vidunda is connected to the activities of global conservation actors. It also speaks to the fact that even in this remote area, global interests are secured.

On arrival, we felt that we were not well understood. It was not until long after an introduction of the CZA project that we released some tensions. One thing that added to the tensions is the fact that the University of Dar es Salaam vehicles that we used have public institution identity hence making us look like a team of government experts (who usually accompany development and conservation actors).

Buzzing Change: The Bees and Bananas Battle for Water:

In a small, lush, sub catchment area, the buzz of bees echoes through the air, weaving a curious tale of nature’s resilience and human innovation. Here, amidst the hum of hives, the Vidunda residents have long relied on their own science to manage water resources in an intricate blend of banana trees. One villager could be heard saying “in the eyes of these people [those who come for conservation purposes] these bananas drain much water so we must replace them with their chosen type of avocados.” That is how intricately linked the local needs and conservation interests are. The intention of conservation actors for the area is to capitalize on its potential for catchment protection referring to the hydropower projects downhill. This puts a people’s science of beans and banana irrigation under threat. 

A story of bee keeping as an alternative offer to protect new agroforestry practices, came at the agroforest. As such, a well-orchestrated and uniformed group of villagers had been couched to sing during the event of receiving bee hives from the African Wildlife Foundation - the day after our visit. I found this activity important to attend as a participant observer. Wearing uniformed  T-shirts with Fuga Nyuki, Hifadhi Mazingira (bee keep bees, conserve the environment for your lives) written on the back, and with AWF-marked bee hives in the background, the people sang:

Wavidunda msimamo (Decision of the Vidunda people)

Uhifadhi Msimamo (Conservation decision)

Fuga nyuki msimamo (Beekeeping decision)

Viongozi msimamo (Decisive leaders)

The event was thought provoking as I observed how global interests and people science on landscapes are in sharp contrast. The pressing global need is to protect and create landscape connectivity rather than using the land for bananas, beans and maize which are traditional food and cash crops for the indigenous of the landscape. The orchestrated singing could only support conservation. Hence, how much of the ancient wisdom must the people sacrifice to meet the demands of the outside world? And, ultimately, can the bees and avocados replace the people’s deep, nurturing connection with their ancestral land? As the buzz continues, a new chapter in the story of water, land, and survival unfolds; the bees at the center of it all.

As a researcher, I found myself in a place where the ‘local had met the global’. My interest to study the villagers’ water management practices clashes with interests of global conservation actors whose agenda ignore people’s intrinsic connection to their land and water. One more question was, where are the voices of protests? Why are the people quiet when there are signs of tensions beneath the surface?

These many questions remain unanswered for now but they are what makes the study of peoples’ science critical. Understanding the cultural, historical, and ecological connections people have with their environment is not just about collecting data. It is also about respecting the intricate relationships that have been built over generations. As I continue my research, the aim is to dive deeper with an ethnography of Vidunda, exploring the local knowledge and practices that have shaped their water management systems.

I will return to the village for the main phase of fieldwork, seeking to uncover more about the villagers’ cultural practices, and how these intersect with the broader environmental governance. My hope is to shed light on the voices that are too often ignored in the conservation and climate change discourses, and to ensure that I contribute to CZA and, hopefully, to the good people of Vidunda.