12. Making Bricks Without Straw
One of the first things that stood out to me in Kitindi was the variation in home construction and quality. There are two clearly distinct categories of homes—stick-based and brick-based—and then, within each category, there are further variations of construction quality, size, roofing, and other building materials that directly reflect the time and resources invested in a home as well as the wealth and status of the homeowner. Recently, I’ve not only learned more about Kitindi’s building materials, but I have also engaged in the process myself in order to help our church construct a new building to replace our current open-air pavilion.
Stick-based homes are clearly the most base-level and probably make up half of Kitindi’s dwellings. These houses tend to be on the smaller side with two or three rooms—a central room one enters through the front door and one or two rooms leading off from this main room, at least one of which is a bedroom and the others of which may be for storage or cooking. The walls of such homes are made of a lattice-work of sticks stuffed with mud. Depending on how well this is done (or perhaps due to maintenance or age), this mud may be inconsistent and crumbling or the walls may be smooth inside and out, mostly concealing their stick frames. Without fail, mud homes are roofed with leaves picked from the wonder plant magungu. A looser frame of branches is built and hundreds of magungu leaves are stacked and overlapped to create a roof three-leaves deep that is completely waterproof (tried and tested against occasional torrential rains—in my experience, they have never failed). Other uses of magungu leaves I’ve learned include as bags for carrying food, containers for cooking tamale-style, and cups if one finds oneself thirsty in the forest. They also produce edible fruits!
Brick-based homes offer a lot more variation. There are two qualities of bricks—baked and unbaked. Both varieties are made, not from surface dirt, but from the yellow-brown clay that one can find by digging perhaps a meter down. Once the clay is extracted, it is packed and pounded tightly into a brick mold. At this point, molded bricks may be simply left in the sun to dry and harden, creating yellow bricks that can be stacked and mortared together. For even better results, however, the bricks should baked until they turn a burnt orange color, creating an even stronger building material. Brick homes in Kitindi are mostly of the yellow, non-baked variety. Among these, many also use magungu roofs, though many more have metal roofs that themselves vary in quality and price. Roofing metal must be imported from Bukavu or even abroad, and I’ve heard of people who have struck a modest sum of gold and used their resulting earnings to purchase and import high quality metal sheets from Burundi, an eastward neighbor of Congo.
Brick homes tend to be bigger on average, with more or bigger rooms, and the wealthiest owners of brick homes may have several buildings serving different purposes around their property. A final feature that may set brick buildings apart is the use of a final building material—a plaster sealant that can be applied to the outside of a home, concealing the brick wall and presumably reinforcing and shielding the bricks from the elements. The sealant also provides a smooth gray finish that, unlike the bricks, can even be painted. Homes of both baked or non-baked bricks may be finished with this sealant, which makes homes appear of the highest quality.
Two weeks ago at church, an announcement was made at the end of the service, informing us that we had tasks to accomplish to further the ongoing church building project. This is a project that had been started and abandoned in the past, leaving us still with an open-air structure in lieu of a true, completed church building like several others in Kitindi. Near where we currently worship, a uncompleted corner of bricks stands crumbling in an overgrowth of weeds and a two-and-a-half-meter mound of baked bricks rests unused. Our tasks, divided among several workdays and different teams, were to transport newly molded bricks and bake them in the traditional manner near the building site. My assigned day was the last day of the process. Before my team, thousands of bricks had been molded, carried, and stacked to form a new, three-meter mound. At the base of this mound, four openings were left, two on each of its broad sides, where fires would be placed to bake the mound from the inside out and harden all of the bricks. The final step of the process was to coat the mound in mud, completely sealing it so that the heat would be trapped inside and thoroughly cook all of the bricks.
I had heard rumors that I should arrive around 6:00 am, which was not an attractive prospect to me, so I was easily convinced by someone else that I should not come until 9:00. Nevertheless, around 8:00, I was woken up by my grandmother calling me from the front of the house that a teacher needed me. It was Kikumunene, who does not have a phone and so is often not entirely in the loop. He told me it was time to go, so I hastily got ready and arrived at the building site to find no one from my team (including Kikumunene) there. However, I did find some masons creating bricks and helped them with the molding process while I waited.
After a while, members of my team arrived (they would trickle in slowly from 9:00 to 11:00), and we took turns digging to extract the dirt necessary for our mud sealant. Some of us then carried water in jerry cans from the Wagila river about a kilometer away to create the mud. After some mixing of dirt and water with the shovels, Musekwa, the sixth grade teacher, took off his shoes and began stomping in the concoction to produce the desired consistency. We then started to apply it to the walls of our brick mound. Frankly, I was surprised and impressed by the quality of the mud. Taking a handful, one simply threw it onto the wall and it stuck perfectly. Putting on too much could cause it to fall, but the right thickness flung simply stayed, so the work became a game of marksmanship as we applied the sealant from top to bottom to create a consistent mud face. I imagine this is the same quality of mud that is used for every home as either the mortar between bricks or as a wall itself, created simply from properly mixing the dirt and water sourced from our surroundings.
The dry season is upon us, and the noonday sun is, in the words of one student, ardent every day now. Weather services are not reliable here, but if you check whatever they are reading for some unknown, supposedly nearby location, the temperature is mid 80s to mid 90s, with even higher “real feels” due to humidity and UV indices labeled daily as severe. Needless to say, my body was dripping sweat, collecting mud, and quickly burning in typical mzungu fashion. Though my work was temporary and voluntary, I could not help likening myself to the Israelites in Egypt, toiling under the North African sun, making bricks without straw (you’ll give me a pass, as The Prince of Egypt is one of my favorite movies). I had no intention of staying and working all day, though my colleagues were in no rush, taking frequent breaks in the shade and eating lunch around noon. I typically eat my midday meal at home in the afternoon, so I was not hungry, nor did I desire to eat in the hot, muddy state I was in—I resolved to make a substantive contribution before excusing myself to clean up and eat at home. I flung mud through their meal and until 2:00 pm after they rejoined me, at which point we finished coating our mound. All that remained was to light and tend the fires, which, I heard, they did not end up doing until later that evening, perhaps after gathering ample firewood. Then, all night, a group of them remained to maintain the fires and finish the baking. The work took place from Friday morning to Saturday morning. On Sunday, I visited the mound again after church and found the mud crusted and hard and, where the bricks underneath were visible, a change in consistency and color from crumbly and yellow to rigid and fiery orange.
In such a manner, though constructing frames, gathering leaves, extracting dirt, and firing bricks, a home can be raised in Kitindi. It seems these processes are familiar to at least all men in the area, and, especially for the simple homes, homeowners do much of the work themselves or can work among kin and other relations as we did for our church. Specialization comes in for the masons who own the brick molds, as well as for carpenters who have the tools and skills to build more sophisticated doors, windows, and roofs. However, the basics remain locally sourced and individually performed, making everyone in Kitindi an architect and a construction worker.
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