The politics of grasshopper eating

Among some people, especially in Central Uganda, grasshoppers are a great delicacy; one that we cannot wait to taste once the known grasshopper season is here. That was until this year. Initially, it seemed as if the delicious winged creatures had gone on strike. 

This was not helped by the constant scorching sunny weather that kicked off the month of November. We started to worry and even looked heavenward for answers. Social media was awash with memes imploring the grasshoppers to come or for someone to intervene. Nobody did. Nobody could. 

While you can influence the national vote, budgets and the award of contracts, grasshoppers cannot be bribed. No amount of pleading and convincing could get them here before their time was nigh. And the people who eat them are so devoted to the cause, they are not easily swayed. You can tell them about the merits of beef or vegetables but once it is November, they will keep demanding for grasshoppers.

In this season, I learnt a few valuable lessons about grasshoppers. For one, I had always thought they favoured certain areas of the country until I learnt that they do not care too much for regional balance. They will breed, grow and soar where the conditions are right. Thus it was, one evening in the West Nile city of Arua, that to my delight, I saw the shiny iron sheets and bright lights that signal grasshopper harvesting activity.

I immediately asked my guide to take me closer so I could inspect the activity and possibly buy the grasshoppers that night. 
He advised against it and said that it would be better to carry out the transaction in the morning. I shouldn’t have listened to the man because by the next morning, there was no trace of grasshoppers. They were gone, sold. And they did not return the next night or the next. Like some politician, I had promised some people a grasshopper party and now there were no grasshoppers anywhere, not even in the market.

To avoid disappointing me, my agents continued the search, for they knew how passionate I was about the spike-headed little green things. In a near desperate attempt to attract back the unwilling hoppers, the iron sheet collection centres were approached and convinced to turn on their lights for one more night, just to see if the much adored grasshoppers would see fit to appear.

Turning on the blazing lights that catch grasshoppers is not as easy as it sounds in Arua. Power is still not the most available commodity in town so this was the ultimate sacrifice, to turn on the generators in the hope of luring some grasshoppers. 

The effort paid off. The grasshoppers did come, not in sufficient numbers to throw a massive party but enough to fill a platter for one very devoted grasshopper consumer and her determined agents. No victory has been sweeter than this in recent times.

What we had done was akin to pulling off a coup that destabilised the grasshopper kingdom and made them bow to our needs. To make matters worse, having had a hearty grasshopper meal, I arrived in Kampala to find that the insect lovers were still battling harsh weather, dashed hopes and where a few grasshoppers appeared, sky high prices. 

This whole episode has given me a new appreciation for the need to conserve the environment and maintain the right conditions for our beloved insects to flourish. If we would go to such great lengths to catch them, we need to do better in ensuring they keep coming back season after season. 

Ms Nampewo is a writer, editor and communications consultant    

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