WUNRN
Joanna Lipper - Photographer -
Filmmaker - Author
International Museum of Women -
Picturing Power & Potential
GROWTH VS. STAGNATION - WOMEN
SEAWEED FARMERS OF ZANZIBAR
Growth vs. Stagnation: Seaweed Farmers in Zanzibar
Joanna Lipper traveled to Zanzibar in the
summer of 2009 to photograph women in urban and rural settings. While in
Zanzibar she visited Jambiani, a rural village on the east coast of Unguja,
where some women work as seaweed farmers. Seaweed is prized for the chemicals
it produces in the form of algae extracts and also for its remarkable ability
to absorb tremendous amounts of carbon dioxide. Algae's valuable extracts are
widely used in food (such as processed dairy, meat, and fruit products), in
cosmetics (such as lipstick and mascara), in paint, toothpaste, air fresheners,
pharmaceuticals and in agriculture. On a global level, the import and export of
seaweed is a $200 billion business, with the United States importing nearly $50
billion worth each year. The national Seaweed Development Strategic Plan
recently adopted by the Tanzanian government calls for the expansion of seaweed
farming. It is a sustainable form of aquaculture that has particularly
benefited women and contributes to the governments' poverty alleviation
program. In Zanzibar, it has become a major source of income for women farmers.
While increasing their workload, it also has increased their economic
purchasing power as well as created more social empowerment of women. But since
Zanzibar lacks the large-scale infrastructure and hardware needed to process
seaweed and extract valuable algae, raw materials are shipped abroad for
processing. Without microfinance loans, improved education, and community
organization amongst laborers, there can be no further growth for seaweed
farming as a cash-generating economically empowering occupation for rural
village women.
In Lipper's
photographs, there is something sublime about the way in which the two seaweed
farmers looking outwards toward the horizon line across the vast expanses of
ocean and sandbars at low tide seem so distant, so detached and so protected
from the intrusive technology and architecture of modern life. There is
something sacred about their proximity to nature and their graceful alternation
between togetherness and solitude, moments of union, attunement, separation,
individuation and reunion. Yet, despite the vast potential for women's
empowerment, the thin thread that connects these seaweed farmers to the global
economy is growing more fragile by the day.