tivity. It is so grave that the island is now nicknamed ‘Red Island’ due to the red soil resulting
directly from nutrient depletion.
Adding another layer, folkloric customs and
traditions are deeply ingrained in the people.
In a culture where traditions are passed down
through generations with fierce and loyal pride,
effecting change through education takes time,
as people need to be convinced of the need for
it before overhauling their entire way of living
for generations. In most cultures, change arises
through TV and radio, where new ideas are
introduced to rural communities. But here, with
many villages running on little or no electricity,
where some women walk 10kms to fetch water,
babies and mothers regularly die during childbirth and healthcare is, if lucky, a visit to the
village herbal doctor, the prospect of TV and
radio is alien. So time remains frozen and tradition dominates lifestyle.
As it stands, with little protection for the
people or the place, the future of Madagascar
appears murky. Any further loss of wildlife,
rainforest and human life would be nothing
but the greatest tragedy.
Facing the future
Tourism is Madagascar’s greatest potential.
Naturally blessed with a wealth of unique
endemic wildlife, breathtaking landscapes
and every pre-requisite for any traveller,
Madagascar could easily be an eco-tourism
world leader. It already has a niche USP
that other countries are forced to eek out
through expensive marketing companies and
campaigns. If wildlife tourism was prioritized, it
could single-handedly save the 90% endemic
wildlife, flora & fauna and in turn human life.
As it stands, the country is steaming towards
the opposite - degradation. With little clear
lead from official powers, when a majority
of primary forest is already gone, and bleak
political prospects, the future is unstable. But
hope is far from lost.
470
Something spectacular has begun to sprout
on the ground. Amongst the growing ‘middleclass,’ the minority of people who have had
a chance to learn, study and understand the
issues at heart, there is an apparent overhauling of small localities.
I visit Anja Reserve in Ambalavao, a community-run reserve managed by a board of local
people who closely guard the preservation and
protection of a 30-hectare area of protected
land, home to ring-tailed lemurs. Members
of the local community have been chosen to
manage natural resources. They also develop
community projects to teach the people
why and how to preserve the protected land.
Anja reserve is the most visited communitymanaged reserve. Visitor spending directly
benefits the community and nature. This is a
powerful example of a success story.
Pride of the people
There is hope. I see hope in the likes of my
guides and drivers. They strive to educate
themselves and their families. Tanjona, my
talented driver-guide has saved $40 and asks
me to post him an English dictionary. His
language skills are already excellent and I’m
touched by his hunger for knowledge and
learning. He has a little library at home and
treasures quality books. He watches English
movies and listens to 80s music to improve
his language. Passing through deeply tribal
southern Madagascar, listening to John
Lennon, becomes surprisingly meaningful!
Tanjona takes great pleasure in his country,
regaling me with stories and tales of each principality we pass, adding to my voyage a verse
of history, lore and unique detail. His wife
studies German at university. She hopes to use
it for tourism. When I ask how tough things
must be with only 1 income, he’s optimistic
as he replies, ‘it will benefit our future.’ They
send their child to private school, investing
in bettering her future. It’s a touching tale of
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