They look lovely, the heaps of sand in ochre, sienna, orange and yellow hues, glistening under the sun or the dappled shade in the markets and street corners of Maputo. Five meticais (US$0,10) will buy you a funil, a cone made of newsprint filled with silky sand, the colour – and taste - of your choice.
Yes, taste. For this sand is sold to be eaten. Eating soil or sand (geofagia) was a traditional practice among many groups, from Native Americans to Amazonian tribes. In Southern Africa, traditionally, pregnant women eat a little bit of reddish soil or sand, possibly for its iron content.
The novelty in Maputo is that eating sand has become a fad among youth and non-pregnant women, and they eat a lot of it, every day. It drives a booming trade, giving jobs to many, and disease to many as well, as this investigative story uncovered.
The sand samples that SAVANA reporter Salane Muchanga took to the National Laboratory for Food and Water Quality for analysis contained fecal matter and plenty of e-coli bacteria.
Besides bacterial diseases, sand can can cause intestinal obstructions, stomach ulceration and parasitic infections like toxoplasmosis. It erodes tooth enamel. Consumed in large quantities, it can induce anemia among pregnant women because it prevents iron absorption.
Many of the users interviewed said sand gives them colic and cramps but they can't stop eating it, five or six times a day. It seems to be addictive – what psychologists call pica, an eating disorder where people have unstoppable cravings for non-edible elements, like glass, clay, chalk or burnt matches.
Jobs for women
The sand sold in Maputo comes from quarries at Marracuene, 30 km away. Except the diggers and the porters, the trade is dominated by women.
Women traders bring the 80 kgs bags of sand by minibus, then dry it on the pavement of alleys and courtyards in the bairros for three days, unprotected from dogs, cats, rats and birds. Then it is pound, usually by older children, and sifted until it is fine, soft and silky - ready for sale.
Salane deplores that sand is sold near schools and that the Ministry of Health does not inform people of the dangers. She wrote a short editorial into the central spread, calling for information campaigns, but did not advocate banning the trade because it provides income for many women. Nonetheless, Salane argues that consumers should know the health risks of eating sand frequently.
I tried several samples. It tastes, well, like sand. Each colour tastes differently. I did not enjoy the grittiness, knowing it corrodes tooth enamel, and since a dentist bill scares me more than an intestinal obstruction, my tasting adventure was limited.
This story took three weeks to produce. It involved several trips to markets, winning the trust of women traders so we could see the production process, and getting the Ministry of Health on board to do the lab analysis for free. We also did lots of internet research about pica and geofagia.
Seldom can a journalist in Mozambique devote so much time to a story, but SAVANA understood its importance.
The story is runner-up for the Best Feature in Southern Africa in the Gender and Media awards to be announced in early February by the regional NGO Gender Links.