Protecting water sources is a basic response to Covid-19

It seems easy enough to do. Videos have been made demonstrating effective handwashing, people are singing “happy birthday” under their breaths to ensure that they wash their hands for the recommended 20 seconds and some countries have even put up temporary taps in public spaces to give people more access to handwashing.

Africa has remained relatively sheltered from the severity of the COVID-19 pandemic but I shudder to think what might happen should it hit us with the force that it is sweeping with, through the rest of the world. This is because our health systems are significantly weaker and our doctor to patient ratios are nowhere near the 1:1000 recommended by the WHO. A report by the WHO suggests that Africa will have a shortage of six million health workers by 2030.

But most concerning is the fact that we might not be able to adequately make use of even the most basic precautionary measure, handwashing. With only 60 per cent of Sub-Saharan Africa accessing tapped water, what should be a routine activity will be out of reach for a significant portion of the population.

In 2018, we watched with bated breath as Cape Town counted down to “Day Zero”—the day when the city’s taps would dry out leaving its 4.5 million residents without water. “Day Zero” was initially projected for April 12 2018, then was moved to mid-July of the same year, and finally, it never came to pass. It took concerted effort by the municipal authorities, technological fixes to the piping system and lifestyle adjustments by the residents to bolster the reservoir levels and push back “Day Zero” indefinitely. We all breathed a sigh of relief.

The reality of a city as prosperous as Cape Town running out of water meant that the rest of the continent, and indeed the world, had to take a hard look at itself and audit the sustainability of its own water supplies. It meant that governments had to be honest about where their water comes from and what would happen should those reservoirs dry up, exacerbated by the twin threats of biodiversity loss and climate change.

 I don’t know how much reckoning with these realities has taken place but what I do know is that African cities remain vulnerable to water shortages and rationing, with municipalities readily admitting that they simply do not have enough water to ensure 24-hour access to every resident.

 This applies to Uganda as well. Just because Lake Victoria is currently overflowing its banks does not mean that all Ugandans have access to clean water. In informal settlements in Kampala, where authorities estimate that 60 per cent of the urban population lives, people buy water in 20 litre containers for which they pay an inflated cost of up to USD 0.07 (about Shs250). They need several containers a day. National Water and Sewerage Corporation has attempted to address this by installing pre-paid metres that have reduced the price significantly to USD 0.018 (about Shs60).

 However, there are not enough prepaid metres to serve everyone and there are frequent breakdowns of those that exist.  So as governments scramble to effect isolation and social distancing measures in order to arrest the spread of COVID-19, a good question they must ask themselves right now is: what happens if residents cannot afford to wash their hands?

Aside from the challenges of water distribution, where officials have decried vandalisation of pipes and cartels running illegal connections, the real root of water shortages goes back to water sources, that is the dams, lakes and rivers from which this water is piped. To deal with perennial water shortages therefore means dealing with how we treat the natural environment.

 We must critically assess the health of our water towers and begin the difficult but necessary work of enhancing conservation of the ecosystems that ensure our survival. For Kampala to become water secure, the integrity of the Lake Victoria Basin must be protected. Experts have long sounded the alarm that the Lake Victoria Basin is especially vulnerable to climate change since over 80 per cent of the lake’s volume comes from rainfall. This means that all the countries that share the basin must work together to keep the lake and its ecosystems healthy and sustainable.

 This relationship is characteristic of many others that govern water resources on the continent. For example, if Angola decided not to conserve the flora and fauna of its highlands, the Okavango Basin as we know it would cease to exist, therefore compromising Botswana’s most important source of water. This is also true for the Congo River Basin, an integral source of water for 11 countries, which can only continue to flow as mightily as it does if Tanzania, Burundi, Zambia and the Democratic Republic of Congo continue to protect Lake Tanganyika and all the ecosystems around it. Many other such examples across the continent abound, with the United Nations reporting that Africa has 63 international transboundary river basins which cover about 64 per cent of the continent’s land area and contain 93 per cent of its total surface water resources

 Our destinies are interconnected. We will only beat opportunistic infections such as Covid-19, and ensure the collective survival and prosperity of the human race, if we treat nature with respect. Water sources do not exist in isolation; they depend on the health of larger ecosystems, primarily wild lands and wildlife, if they are to flow in perpetuity.

 This means that even as the continent develops and modernises, we must recognise that our survival is tied to the survival of our natural resources. How well Africa handles this crisis, and others to come, depends on whether the continent can make the decision to protect its most vulnerable—in this case, its wildlife and wild lands.

Sudi Bamulesewais the Uganda Country Director, African Wildlife Foundation