By Tamiru L. Obole | JT Senior Reporter

Nearly 60 flower farms operate in Ethiopia today. More than half of them are owned and run by for­eigners. During his recent statement to the media, Minister Girma Birru pledges nearly 2000 hectares of land to attract new investors to the industry. But with local and international bodies’ con­cerns for environmental mismanagement and labor abuses, their time may be running out.

Teenager Aster Mamo doesn’t go to college to attend sci­ence or art class. She has to be on time for her daily rou­tine job at the local flower farm where she earns money to help her family survive.

9:00 am in the morn­ing. A heavy rain last night left huge piles of hail inside the compound of Menagesha Flower Farm, situated 30 kilo­meters west of Addis. Today’s cloudy sky has brought chilly weather. A gentle breeze carries not the sweet scent of roses, but a strong smell of chemicals that makes you want to sneeze. A track up the hill runs through a beautiful green field and a clump of indigenous trees. At the end of the track, there are eight huge greenhouses.

Blossoms of all kinds welcome you to the greenhouses. But the inside temperature is in stark contrast with the outside – it’s really hot. Gurgling water noises from little water pumps add to the steamy mood. About ten female work­ers are engaged in collecting flowers and removing extra foliage from the stems of red roses.

Meseret Negash, 19, an innocent looking girl, is one of them. Born into a family of eight, she grew up in the suburb of Menagesha town. She attended the local school until grade three. “I couldn’t go further since my father was unable to support me,” Mesert says. “He works on a small piece of land and has to feed ten mouths.”

Meseret couldn’t ex­actly remember when she joined Menagesha Flower. “I started work­ing here about a year ago,” she said, remov­ing leaves from a stem of red rose. Meseret follows a single day-to-day pattern: removing leaves, cutting stems, transporting them to the ‘cold room’ and clean­ing greenhouses. “It’s a back-breaking job but I earn some money to help my family,” she says.

Meseret works eight hours a day and 28 days a month. The nation’s labor law allows up to 48 hours a week. Meseret works eight extra hours in a fortnight; only one day off.No overtime payments.  “I recently received a salary rise of one Birr; now I’m paid eight Birr a day. I would be happier if this amount went up to nine or ten,” Meseret says smiling. “This amount will enable me to go to evening class.” She has a dream of going back to school soon. However, she doesn’t know how long her boss will al­low her to stay with her casual job on the farm. She didn’t sign any writ­ten agreement with her employer. Nor is there any labor union that can bargain for better pay­ments and other benefits. “We don’t have what you called a labor union be­cause we don’t know how it could be useful to us.”

You may wonder how Meseret can remove leaves from thorny rose stems without wearing gloves. She carries cut flowers to the cold room and cleans the greenhous­es without wearing pro­tective devices. “I’m used to these smells and thorny stems,” says Meseret. “We sometimes face a strong chemical smell; if we complain we‘re told to work in the next green­house.”

Ethiopia’s burgeoning flower industry developed out of the European flower market, which began in the northern hemisphere, and expanded rapidly at the end of 20th century into the southern Africa, until by 2000, one third of traded cut flowers was grown in southern areas, mainly East and South Africa. Ethiopia has now also become one of the places where the industry is booming.

Environmental im­pact

Today, like Menagesha Flower, fifty-seven other flower farms operate in Ethiopia. Most of them began growing flowers in 2000. These farms are believed to have created job opportunities for thou­sands of rural Ethiopians.

Moreover, the govern­ment has given due atten­tion to the flower industry because of growing rev­enue it collects from ex­port taxes. However, the industry has brought with it much controversy: al­legations of environmental mismanagement, labor abuse and unfair land holding.

The industry uses pesticides and chemical fertil­izers. It uses too much of these elements which damages the environ­ment, environmentalists accuse. It’s also accused of using a lot of water. They worry that flower farms let too much inor­ganic fertilizer into soil so that the soil develops salinity. Saline soil will not grow plants. Moreover, too much chemicals kill use­ful organisms in the soil. And if too much pesticide gets into water bodies it damages the biodiversity. Moreover, too much use of water leads to conflict with the local community, as was the case in the Naivasha district in Ke­nya. It may also lead to depletion of water from its natural reservoir.

Ato Seyoum Fenja, an agronomist at Menagesha Flower, says: “We grow flowers on substrate or red ash so that pesticides and inorganic fertilizers cannot get into the soil.” As for water sources, says Seyoum, “We use well-water.” Twenty litres of pesticides and 96,000-210,000 litres of water are being consumed at Menagesha Flower daily. Regarding chemical use, Ato Dawit Araya, Manager of Menagesha Flower, says: “We watch interna­tional codes of conduct since we wish to sell our flowers for good prices.” Some international orga­nizations grade flowers based on their effort to minimize environmental impacts. Grade A awards us a better price than grade C, says Dawit.

Ethiopia belongs to Ethiopians; we came here not to destroy your envi­ronment, but to develop it, says Mrs. Anat Harari Degani, the Managing Di­rector and Owner of Jeri­cho Flowers. She admit­ted that Eucalyptus trees were removed but “not a single indigenous tree”.

Regarding chemical use, Degani says “we abide by international rules and regulations: protecting environment against damages, pro­tecting standard working conditions and welfare of workers, and minimiz­ing the use of chemicals. We cannot sell for good price if we don’t meet the standard. We have a cer­tificate of quality manage­ment.” In Jericho Flow­ers, flowers are grown on natural soil. Fertilizers drain into the natural soil in a solution form. “A farmer near Nazareth grows teff using fertiliz­ers; ours is not different,” says Degani.

Research reports on the environmental impact of the flower industry haven’t been conducted yet, according to Ato Sisay Habte, Executive Secretary of Ethiopian Horticulture Producers and Exporters Association (EH­PEA). “And it’s too early to feel the damage it can cause to the environment; we are in a better position to learn its impact from Kenya and other experi­enced nations,” he says. “Every project where man is involved has environ­mental impact; I don’t know why some groups exaggerate the case of the flower industry.”

Sisay admits that many flower farms do not use red ash to grow flow­ers, probably because of its high cost. However, the association encour­ages the use of red ash, biological pest control and organic fertilizers. “As we are beginners, we lack skill and knowledge,” says Sisay. “But trainings and codes of practice are underway by the associa­tion: issues of production, labor, environment and community have been given priority so as to use them as minimum requirements for certifica­tion to begin and run a flower farm.”

Waste disposal mecha­nisms have also become a controversial issue. “Unless waste materials are handled and removed properly, they can get into water bodies or be used by people and cause seri­ous damage,” says Abra­ham Haile Melekot, an Expert at Environmental Impact Assessment Unit at Environmental Protec­tion Authority. “Empty pesticide and fertilizer containers should be bur­ied sealed up with plastic while waste water has to be treated at the farm.”

“As for the Ethiopian Environmental Protection Authority, nobody has contacted us so far. They were supposed to collect empty chemical containers and waste flowers,” says Degani. “We have kept the containers in storage whereas we bury the flow­ers.” Degani worries par­ticularly about the empty chemical containers.

At Menagesha Flower, Seyoum says, empty pesticide and fertilizer containers are buried, but neither sealed nor in lined up spaces. Organic wastes like foliages are compos­ted and reused on the farm to grow indigenous trees. With regard to water source, Dawit says “We have a plan to recycle waste water and start rain water harvesting.”

According to the national environment guideline, says Abraham, compa­nies are expected to have completed environmen­tal impact assessments before launching their projects. As for the flower industry, “We don’t have any idea where and how environmental impact as­sessments are conduct­ed.” The authority recently conducted a survey on the environmental and occu­pational health and safety. “But the results have not been disclosed due to rea­sons I don’t want to men­tion,” says Abraham.

Labor issues

The cut flower industry employs thousands of workers globally. It has also contributed to for­eign exchange earning, rural stability and social services. But the pres­ent global trend indicates workers are denied of their basic rights. In Ethi­opia none of the flower farms are unionized. They are not allowed to form labour unions, exercise collective bargaining agreements and ask for safe and healthy work­ing conditions. Human rights activists argue that flower growers use an il­literate, underpaid work force. And the workers are bare-armed, with no gloves or face masks to protect themselves from pesticides and thorny rose stems.

Workers develop health problems as a result of being exposed to danger­ous chemicals and work­ing conditions on the job. Workers are forced to work long hours, can be dismissed at will and often handle dangerous chemi­cals without the proper protective equipment. Women workers are par­ticularly vulnerable to ex­ploitation, sexual harass­ment, no maternity leave, overcrowded housing and low wages.

Mamush Kebede, 24, came from Ankober, Am­hara region. Before leav­ing his casual job, he worked as a sprayer on a flower farm near Me­nagesh for two months. “With five of my friends we asked our boss for a salary rise (8 to 10 Birr) but we were told to serve for another six months,” says Mamush. “Meantime I asked him to transfer me to another unit because I got rashes from the chemicals that I spray; I was told to continue work­ing as a sprayer if I want to stay in the farm.” Ma­mush and his four friends left the farm since the employer couldn’t keep his promise.

Aster Girma, 23, re­moves foliage from roses at Jericho Flowers. It was midday and the tempera­ture in the greenhouse was 380c. She is paid eight Birr a day. “The temperature is very high and I toil and sweat eight hours a day and six days a week; I deserve more,” says Aster.

Flower growers deny their workers’ rights of joining labor unions, says Ato Tariku Shachachew, General Secretary of the Ethiopian Confederation of Labor Unions. “We repeat­edly urged the growers to let their employees form labor unions; however, they let us down and fired workers where we tried to form one like at the Gold­en Rose.” He further says that growers ban labor unions on their farms for fear of workers asking for their rights that add extra expenses to employers; workers will bargain for a better salary and working conditions.

Tariku argues that workers in flower farms haven’t received a sig­nificant salary increase in the last six years, and couldn’t benefit from in­surance rights. In one of the flower farms, says Tariku, an employee cut her finger off while trim­ming. She was given 100 Birr to pay for medication. But she later found that 100 Birr off her salary on pay day.

“We don’t ban labor unions,” says Dawit, “our employees don’t ask for them. It’s easier for me to talk to two or three than 300 employees.” At Menagesha Flower, eight Birr (less than one US dol­lar) a day is an average. “Our employees deserve more,” says Dawit, “but we are not yet engaged in full export.”

The question regard­ing workers should be how much they support themselves, says Degani. “You can enjoy a better life with $1,000 here than in Switzerland. We get profit out of the sweat of people; we feel we are theirs.” Degani under­scores the cooperation be­tween both parties - em­ployees and employers.

With regard to labor union and wage, Degani says: “There’s a common payment standard among farmers here; and ours can’t be different.” She said none of her work­ers had asked to join a union: “Probably they feel fantastic here.” The farm provides a free lunch ser­vice for its workers which makes it different from any other farms in Ethio­pia.

“We are concerned about workers’ rights in the industry,” says Abra­ham. “It should provide safe and hygienic work­ing environments; unless workers are protected properly those who have direct contact with the ag­rochemicals may develop incurable diseases like carcinogenic diseases.”

Sisay argues that em­ployers worry about work­ing conditions under labor unions. Workers and lead­ers of labor unions may abuse their rights so that they will not take their tasks seriously, argues Sisay.

Land holding

Government land owner­ship has created it easier for flower growers to get land easily. Abiy Mezgebu, 28, resides near Ambo town. He recently sold a hectare of land to flower growers for 30,000 Birr, the price that growers fix. But there is no any agreement with the grow­ers how long they use the land. “Regional govern­ment officials convinced me to sell it. They warned me to take away govern­ment land if I refuse to sell it,” says Abiy. “In my village, many farmers sold their lands but didn’t use the money to improve their lives; they spent on ‘tella’ (alcoholic local beer).”

Aduna Workneh, fa­ther of five, lives across bunches of flower farms near Menagesha town. Officials from the govern­ment and flower farms came and talked to him in person. “They told me I’ll benefit much better if we sell my land. Though I rejected it, they still try to convince me.” Aduna has four hectares of land where he grows crops to feed his family. He was offered up to 70,000 Birr but he says “this amount of money doesn’t last long whereas my farm land feeds me for the rest of my life.”

These flower farms ben­efit us nothing; at least they were expected to provides employment op­portunity, says Aduna. “Only a few members of our community got em­ployed; as for the major­ity we don’t know where they came from.” Showing across the valley, Aduna says “where now these green houses lie was cov­ered by indigenous trees and eucalyptus, where our women used to collect firewood. But today flower farms left us with noth­ing.”

The government has se­cured over 600 million Birr flower export revenue in the last few years. There is a plan to increase it to more than US $300 million in 2008. The govern­ment seems to be turn­ing a blind eye to the alleged damages that flower farms cause to the environment and to un­fair labor issues and land acquisition. There is a big inflow of flower industry to Ethiopia despite the continuous local and inter­national concerns about these issues.

Degani used to run flower business in Ke­nya before moving here. “There is no border be­tween countries today. You bring and take lots of experiences from one country to another. Agri­culture is labor intensive. We look for potential ad­vantages where to grow and develop regarding labor and market. We are not NGO components. We came here to do profitable business. Ethiopia is the potential empire of Africa. We prefer Ethiopia for suitable altitude, soil and water quality, and particu­larly safety,” Degani says.