Dust of the Danakil by Ian Mathie

by Ian Mathie

This is the fourth of Ian Mathie’s books in his African Memoir Series, each thoroughly absorbing in its own way. One or two of the others may have revealed more of tribal customs (as in Bride Price) or action (as in Man in a Mud Hut) and to some extent both these aspects are included in Dust of the Danakil. But in his latest book, Ian demonstrates not only his deep knowledge of and empathy with Africa from the inside, but his experience of the workings of the mandarins of Whitehall and the complexities of distributing aid. Dust of the Danakil is literally about just that: about the knowledge and skills of one young water engineer (that is, Ian himself) to quench the thirst of the desert and its inhabitants. To this end he gets to know the very-hard-to-know tribes of the Danakil, to speak their language and understand their customs, some of them not especially pleasant. In return they get to know and respect him. His Epilogue, The Futility of Relief, is not as negative as it sounds for as well as posing the problems, Ian also suggests solutions.

Genres: Memoir

260 pages, Paperback

First published March 1, 2012

Reviews

[Sylvie]

This is the fourth of Ian Mathie’s books in his African Memoir Series, each thoroughly absorbing in its own way. One or two of the others may have revealed more of tribal customs (as in Bride Price) or action (as in Man in a Mud Hut) and to some extent both these aspects are included in Dust of the Danakil. But in his latest book, Ian demonstrates not only his deep knowledge of and empathy with Africa from the inside, but his experience of the workings of the mandarins of Whitehall and the complexities of distributing aid. Dust of the Danakil is literally about just that: about the knowledge and skills of one young water engineer (that is, Ian himself) to quench the thirst of the desert and its inhabitants. To this end he gets to know the very-hard-to-know tribes of the Danakil, to speak their language and understand their customs, some of them not especially pleasant. In return they get to know and respect him. His Epilogue, The Futility of Relief, is not as negative as it sounds for as well as posing the problems, Ian also suggests solutions.

[Sharon Lippincott]

Ian Mathie’s memoir, Dust of the Danakil, is a heart-wrenching story of the Afar, a feared and invisible people passed over by progress and providence. After he was hand-picked for this challenging assignment, Mathie met bureaucratic resistance at nearly every turn, beginning with the Ethiopian insistence that he proceed with a small army to protect him—logical on their part considering no European outsider in remembered history had made it out alive. But this made no sense to Mathie, who had been sent to find a way to dam up dry wadis to impound water during the short run-off period following the rainy season in the mountains to the west and teaching the nomadic Afar to use this water to grow crops and thus alleviate starvation resulting from severe drought. He failed to see how arriving with an army would facilitate developing the trust and cooperation necessary to accomplish that objective.

Mathie and two intrepid colleagues convinced their terrified driver to leave town in the middle of the night and head down into the Danakil, correctly assuming the authorities would leave them to their fate rather than following. They did make contact with a small delegation of Afar and managed to gain their trust, respect and cooperation, but not without plenty of challenges, climate being among them. The average high temperature in the sere, below sea level Danakil Depression is around 145˚F, cooling to 100˚ at night. He faced hyena packs, sewed up his own thigh after wrenching a spear from it, and survived a bullet wound. He patched up limbs gnawed by hyenas, treated infected smallpox vaccinations, and occasionally drove tribe members up to Bati for proper medical treatment. He also shared the excitement of the first rain storm living Afar had ever experienced.

Readers of Mathie’s earlier volumes know his inclination toward expediency. This practical bent was pushed to the limits on the Danakil project where his mastery of end runs was the only thing that got him through many situations. With one exception, Ethiopian officials were obstructive and British Embassy personnel bent out of shape by his unorthodox methods. In spite of all this, he got results and ultimately got to the play role of Santa on a return visit.

Even more than his previous memoirs, this book is a powerful political commentary, with the Afar and Danakil project serving as a sort of metaphor for aid projects in general. Mathie concludes the volume with some thoughts on ways to provide meaningful aid with sustainable results. Implementing his ideas would require substantial change in political perspectives. My hope and prayer is that world leaders will read and heed. Perhaps if enough “ordinary citizens” read them, we can cause that to happen.

[Sharon Lippincott]

Ian Mathie's memoir, Dust of the Danakil, is a heart-wrenching story of the Afar, a feared and invisible people passed over by progress and providence. After he was hand-picked for this challenging assignment, Mathie met bureaucratic resistance at nearly every turn, beginning with the Ethiopian insistence that he proceed with a small army to protect him--logical on their part considering no European outsider in remembered history had made it out alive. But this made no sense to Mathie, who had been sent to find a way to dam up dry wadis to impound water during the short run-off period following the rainy season in the mountains to the west and teaching the nomadic Afar to use this water to grow crops and thus alleviate starvation resulting from severe drought. He failed to see how arriving with an army would facilitate developing the trust and cooperation necessary to accomplish that objective.

Mathie and two intrepid colleagues convinced their terrified driver to leave town in the middle of the night and head down into the Danakil, correctly assuming the authorities would leave them to their fate rather than following. They did make contact with a small delegation of Afar and managed to gain their trust, respect and cooperation, but not without plenty of challenges, climate being among them. The average high temperature in the sere, below sea level Danakil Depression is around 145˚F, cooling to 100˚ at night. He faced hyena packs, sewed up his own thigh after wrenching a spear from it, and survived a bullet wound. He patched up limbs gnawed by hyenas, treated infected smallpox vaccinations, and occasionally drove tribe members up to Bati for proper medical treatment. He also shared the excitement of the first rain storm living Afar had ever experienced.

Readers of Mathie's earlier volumes know his inclination toward expediency. This practical bent was pushed to the limits on the Danakil project where his mastery of end runs was the only thing that got him through many situations. With one exception, Ethiopian officials were obstructive and British Embassy personnel bent out of shape by his unorthodox methods. In spite of all this, he got results and ultimately got to the play role of Santa on a return visit.

Even more than his previous memoirs, this book is a powerful political commentary, with the Afar and Danakil project serving as a sort of metaphor for aid projects in general. Mathie concludes the volume with some thoughts on ways to provide meaningful aid with sustainable results. Implementing his ideas would require substantial change in political perspectives. My hope and prayer is that world leaders will read and heed. Perhaps if enough "ordinary citizens" read them, we can cause that to happen.

[Jeanne]

This true story woven from a young British man’s daily journals kept me turning the pages. The memoir tells of his time in the desert of Ethiopia during the 1970’s drought. The British government gave him the job of finding water in the desert to sustain the Afar people. The tribe fiercely protected their homelands and put fear into fellow Ethiopians and foreigners alike. But not Ian Mathie. His persistence, bravery, and a healthy dose of youthful brashness enabled him to reach out to the suspicious Afar. He encouraged and bribed them to help him build a weir to make the infrequent rains useful to them.


The odds were stacked against the success of the project. Mathie had to befriend the sometimes violent tribe, thwart government interference, and work around cultural differences. He was a pragmatic man who didn’t believe that it couldn’t be done. To prove himself to the tribe, he offered them food in exchange for a day’s work. To gain their trust, he used his own money to buy medical and other supplies and drew upon his many years in the bush to treat their wounds and illnesses.

I picture the young Ian Mathie as an Indiana Jones character; not plundering the relics of a civilization, but bringing a treasure to the Afar people. He showed them a way to make their lives better and more independent, after the tribe had become inured to subsistence living, disease, hunger, and death. They didn’t know how to try.

As the old saying goes....Give a man a fish and he eats for the day, but teach him to fish and he eats for a lifetime.

This memoir is a well written adventure, but it is also much more. It is intellectual, compassionate, and realistic. The author’s frustration and anger at the status quo comes through loud and clear. The epilogue is especially helpful to give the reader a sense of how one is to feel about the droughts and the inadequacy of the world’s response. Mr. Mathie’s conclusions may surprise you.

[Philip]

I absolutely loved this book. Ian Mathie should be compulsory reading for anyone working with development issues in Africa. His remarkable experiences resonate so strongly with everything I have seen and heard in the past twenty years. His insights into the aid industry and it's interventions in Ethiopia are timeless and a reminder how little has been learned. A great read and highly recommended.

[Mandy]

Interesting, thought-provoking and worthy - but ultimately dull! Mathie's prose style is flat and unemotional and not quite up to the job of making this an absorbing read.