Sometimes I forget that I live in a developing nation. This is because my immediate surroundings do not always reveal the deep-seated poverty that exists within my country. Every now and then, however, I catch glimpses of the everyday struggles many people in my community face.
In this article, I define poverty as limited access to
desirable goods, services, opportunities, and utilities required for
individuals and households to achieve their full potential.
There is no public school in my community. The nearest
public school is located approximately 7 kilometres away. A few days ago, a young boy, about 11 or 12
years old, shared with me that he has not been in a classroom since the second
school term began this year. He is in Grade 6 and recently changed schools. He
previously attended a community school that was several kilometres away,
requiring him to walk long distances every day. Recently, he was transferred to
a fee-paying school. However, his parents have been unable to raise the
required Zambian Kwacha (K)700. As a result, even though the school term started more than a
month ago, he has still not reported to school.
Instead, he spends his days playing. When I asked
whether he studies from home, he simply told me that studying at home is
difficult.
Not far from my home, I often encounter a family drawing
water from a neighbouring residential property. They are a caretaker family
living in an incomplete house without running water, ablution facilities, or
even windows. Consequently, they rely heavily on the goodwill of neighbours for
water and basic support.
The household depends on basic energy sources for
cooking, including firewood. The single mother, who heads the household,
survives partly through petty trading and selling illicit brew. Most of the
time, the home doubles as a shebeen. The children frequently remain nearby
while patrons consume the illicit brew, a homemade spirit commonly known as
kachasu. Meanwhile, the caretaker house sits among homes surrounded by walls,
equipped with solar panels, running water, and electricity. These homes also
have school-age children, many of whom attend private schools and are driven to
school each day.
Thus, within the same community, impoverished households
coexist alongside relatively better-off households.
This aspect of Zambian life transcends neighbourhoods
and extends into the rural-urban divide. For some rural families, the challenge
is not only material deprivation but also educational exclusion.
Recently, I heard an interesting story from a teacher
working in a rural posting. He has served in the community for more than ten
years and understands many of the social realities affecting local residents.
He shared the story of one of the wealthiest individuals living near his duty
station.
The man is a farmer who has worked the land for many
years. Although he has accumulated considerable material wealth, including
livestock, vehicles, and other assets, he has never attended school. He owns
fertile land and produces bumper harvests. Yet he still requires assistance
when writing documents because he cannot read or write. More surprisingly, he
has never opened a bank account.
I found this story particularly intriguing because it
served as a stark reminder that poverty is relative and multidimensional.
Much of the time, discussions about poverty focus
primarily on material deprivation. However, it is equally true that some people
grow up in environments where they can generate wealth but still lack
opportunities to develop other capabilities such as literacy.
Ironically, this man, despite owning considerable
property, has long expressed frustration about his circumstances. His limited
formal education has constrained his ability to interact confidently with
formal institutions. As a result, he keeps his money at home rather than in
financial institutions. His lack of access, confidence, and familiarity with
formal systems has prevented him from becoming formally banked.
Ultimately, this represents a loss not only for him but
also for the wider economy, because resources that remain outside formal
financial systems are less likely to contribute to broader economic activity.
These personal stories mirror the experiences of many
Zambians today.
Zambia continues to face significant inequality
challenges. The country’s Gini coefficient, a common measure of inequality
where higher values indicate greater inequality, was estimated at approximately
51.5 in recent years, reflecting persistently high levels of income inequality.
Similarly, literacy indicators reveal important disparities.
While adult male literacy nationally is estimated at between 87% and 91%,
substantial differences persist between rural and urban populations, with rural
communities continuing to face educational disadvantages that affect long-term
economic participation.
The rural-urban divide remains real. Some materially
wealthy people in rural communities may still experience forms of deprivation
because of inadequate infrastructure, limited public utilities, and restricted
access to educational opportunities. These limitations reduce their ability to
participate fully in the broader economic life of the nation.
As Zambia develops, equitable allocation of public
resources will remain central in addressing systemic inequality and ensuring a
fair distribution of scarce resources. This is essential if the country is to
break cycles of intergenerational poverty.
It would be a tragic outcome if the young boy who is
currently not attending school because his parents cannot yet pay school fees
eventually becomes the older wealthy man who quietly mourns his inability to
read and write.
Perhaps the greatest tragedy is not poverty itself, but the reproduction of
poverty across generations despite economic growth occurring around us.
