A Pinch of Salt

Despite the huge salt deposits in some parts of the country, Nigeria still spends billions of naira on salt importation. In Ebonyi State, a land flowing with abundant and grossly untapped brine, small scale producers are making a pinch of salt at a time. Chinwe Agbeze, writes.

Ebonyi State, Southeastern Nigeria is home to Okposi and Uburu, two salt producing towns in Ohaozara Local Government Area of the State.

During the Nigerian civil war, the enormous salt in both towns, is said to have attracted buyers from all parts of the country, to Odenigbo Okposi market, one of the famous markets at that time.

The rich salt deposits in Okposi and Uburu Lakes, earned the state the slogan, “The salt of the nation.”

The production process

It was a bright Wednesday morning as 80-year-old Florence Eberike, makes her way to Mmahiezi Salt Lake, to fetch some brine for salt production.

‘Mmahiezi’ which means ‘salt water’ in the local parlance, is located 62kilometres from Abakaliki, the Ebonyi State Capital. The Salt Lake, is situated in Okwu community in Okposi town, and sits on about 1-hectare of land enclosed by trees. Few metres from the Lake is an abandoned salt extraction plant, which is overrun with weeds.

Crude, laborious, time-consuming and traditional, are few words to describe the entire salt production process, which is exclusively done by women.

Eberike filled her earthen pot to capacity, and balanced it on her head. This was her second trip for the day, and the time was 10.13am.

As she exit the lake, women approached the lake one after another to collect saltwater.

For the past 61-years, Eberike has been making frequent visits to this lake, to fetch saline, which she processed into salt.

Eberike sieving dirt from the brine

In front of her house, an enamel basin containing saturated hot brine and a calabash, was on burning firewood.

“I started cooking this saltwater about two hour ago,” Eberike said, in the local dialect, as she gently removed the calabash inside the basin. “But, the salt will not be ready today.”

The calabash, which was placed inside the basin serves as a filter. After a while, all the sand in the liquid assembled at the bottom of the calabash.

“Doing this repeatedly helps to make the colour of the salt pure white,” she said, washing off the dirt in the calabash.

Then, she poured a portion of the brine she had just fetched into the saturated liquid.

To produce salt, the brine is heated for long hours until the water evaporates, leaving behind the salt.

According to Eberike, this process could take one or more days, depending on the size of salt one desires to produce and quantity of firewood available.

Several pots of brine is required to produce a sizeable quantity of salt, and this means, making more than one trip to the lake.

When the liquid in the basin dropped below half level, Eberike topped it up. Then, using a broken calabash, she removed the dirt particles, dancing on the surface of the liquid.

“The number of women producing this salt has dropped drastically because of the laborious nature of the process,” she said. “Some of them now live with their children in the cities.”

As she adjusts the firewood, a boy sauntered in to buy some salt. Eberike disappeared inside her house, and reemerged with some salt, which she handed over to the boy. Money exchanged hands, and she makes her way back to the lake for more brine.

Few houses away, Oluchi Agwu, was also producing salt.

Agwu, a middle-aged woman, who has been in the business for 23-years, woke up before 4am, and by 2pm, the salt was ready.

“If you have enough firewood, you can produce salt in a day,” she said, pouring the hot salt inside a basket.

While waiting for the salt to cool, Agwu quickly put another basin of brine with calabash inside, on burning firewood.

She is trying to produce enough salt to meet the demand of her customers, who she said would visit in three days.

Agwu fished out some plates and began dishing the salt from the basket into them. Dipping her hand intermittently inside a small bucket of water, she moulded the salt nicely, after which she kept them close to the fireplace.

“If the salt is not properly dried, it will turn to water,” she said, as she turned her attention to the boiling liquid. “I always advise my customers to leave the salt in the sun to dry before storage.”

Nnenna Okoro, another salt producer, has been toiling all day. It’s the third day, and she doubt the salt would be ready before dusk.

“I didn’t have enough firewood,” Okoro said. “I just got some this afternoon.”

There were other women like Nkechi, Ogbokoro, Nwanyi Sunday, Nwokoro, and Chukwu, who were also busy producing salt.

Forty minutes’ drive away from Okposi is Umuchima Community, where Uburu Salt Lake is located.

Close to the lake is a Salt extraction plant, which was erected by the United Nations Industrial Development Organisation (UNIDO). However, the structure is abandoned and overgrown with grass.

The Uburu Salt Lake covers a larger surface area when compared to the Okposi Salt Lake but, the method of brine collection is quite different.

The salt-water collected from the lake is poured into earthen pots containing sand, with the sand acting as the filter beds. Beneath each earthen pot is a calabash, which is built into the ground. The calabashes are lined up, with each sand filter pot hanging directly above a calabash.

The brine filters through the sand in the pot, and escapes into the calabash beneath. This distillation process usually takes a long while.

As the brine sifters through, Chinaza Igwe, a salt maker, scoops the saltwater into her pot using a cup placed near the filter pots.

Igwe moves from one calabash to another, patiently scooping the distilled brine from each calabash, until she filled up her pot. But, the saltwater was brownish.

“The liquid takes the colour of the sand,” Igwe explained, in the native dialect. “But, when I am done making the salt, it comes out fine.”

At home, she emptied the brine inside a metal drum and the heating began. But, the salt will not be ready until the fourth day.

“I have to continue sieving the dirt so the salt can be as white as that,” Igwe said, pointing at a yellow basin containing salt. “This takes so much time.”

For N5,000 worth of firewood, Igwe makes a profit of between N4,000 and N6,000, depending on the level of patronage.

According to her, the proceeds helps to keep body and soul together.

“It’s better than doing nothing,” she said.

The process of salt preparation in Uburu not only takes time, but consumes more firewood.

Distribution

After production and packaging, the finished product is moved to the community market, where buyers can access them.

The price of the product ranges from N200 to N2,000, depending on the size.

Due to increased demand for the local salt, coupled with increase in production cost, Agwu said, they had to review the price upwards.

The size they sell for N200, was previously sold for N150, while the N500 worth of salt used to go for N400.

But, not all the products make it to the local market. A portion of the salt find their way out of the State to Aba, Enugu, Awka, and other neighbouring States.

The salt is not used for food preparation alone.

According to Agwu, she welcomes customers from Aba and Port Harcourt, who use the salt to produce herbal medicine.

“This salt is medicinal. It neutralizes poison and it’s used to treat most illnesses,” she boosted, in the local parlance. “Those who are hypertensive are advised to use the salt because it’s natural. We don’t add anything to it.”

On a good day, she makes up to N10,000, but when patronage is low, she makes nothing.

“When I take the salt to our market, I make as little as N500. Some days, I don’t make any sales. I can’t even remember making up to N2,000,” Agwu said, trying to recollect. “My major buyers come from Aba, Port Harcourt and Enugu.”

During festive periods, the producers up their prices to rake in more profit.

“In April, I sold the N500 worth of salt for N700, to those travelling back to other States after the Easter break,” Agwu said. “That’s usually a good time for us.”

On the other hand, Eberike relies on buyers in and close to the community for patronage.

“Some days are good, some days are terrible,” she said. “When I have salt for sale, I make between N1,000 and N3,000.”

But, she makes even bigger profits when students on excursions and tourists pay the community a visit.

“I make up to N5,000 in sales. Even oyibo people, who came here to see the Salt Lake, bought some to take to their country,” the 80-year-old producer said, with a grin. “Our salt has travelled very far.”

Firewood is gold

In both communities, the salt producers have a common challenge— Firewood. Local salt production consumes a lot of firewood.

Salt filter pots at Uburu community

But, this important commodity, is in short supply.

“I bought these firewood for N500,” Rosemary Okorie, a salt maker in Okposi said, pointing at three small pieces of firewood. “I’m even lucky to get them, because we don’t really have firewood here.”

With little or no firewood in sight, the salt producers have to rely on Edda, a community about 23kilometres from Okposi, and Alayi, a community in Abia State, which is 66kilometres from Okposi, for firewood supplies.

“Drivers from Alayi bring firewood in trucks for us to buy,” Okoro said.

The women contribute money, buy a truckload and split the firewood among themselves.

According to Eberike, N5,000 worth of firewood would fetch her a profit of between N6,000 and N10,000, depending on the level of patronage.

“The firewood can last up to a month, and with that quantity, I can cook as much as 10 pots of salt,” she said.

A means to an end

The energy, time, and patience, which goes into local salt production, is not commensurate with the profit realized.

“It’s not easy,” said Agwu, removing dirt particles from the hot brine. “But, we have no choice.”

Agwu said their joy knew no bounds when the news of a salt extraction plant filtered into their ears. But, before they could put on their dancing shoes, their hopes was dashed.

“I thought the end of my labour was in sight,” she said, gloomily. “They couldn’t even finish what they started.”

Abandoned Salt extraction plant at Uburu Salt Lake

According to Eberike, the salt extraction plant would have been a blessing.

“Our women are gradually leaving the business because it’s very stressful,” she said. “The plant would have encouraged them to stay, and more to join the business.”

But, the women say the business is not that bad as they paused to count their blessings.

“I catered for my nine children with the profits I made from the salt business,” she said. “I’m still taking care of myself with the proceeds from the business.”

Though tedious, Agwu said the business has put food on the tables of many and clothes on their backs.

“There is no woman in this community that this salt business hasn’t helped, including me,” she said. “We only buy the firewood. The saltwater is free.”

Rising salt importation

The rate of salt importation into Nigeria has been on the upward swing.

In the first quarter of 2019, the total crude salt imported into Nigeria stood at N4.5billion, representing an increase of 25percent compared to the first quarter of 2018.

Nigeria imported N2.1billion worth of crude salt from Brazil, and N1.5billion from Namibia, in the first quarter of 2018, according to data obtained from the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS).

However, this figure grew significantly in the first quarter of 2019, as Nigeria’s total crude salt import jumped to N4.5billion — N2.3billion from Namibia, and N2.2billion.

In March, 2019, salt import topped the Nigeria Import Chart for the first time, as it rose to a whooping 13million metric tonnes from a paltry 23metric tonnes in February, 2019, according to the shipping position from the Nigerian Ports Authority (NPA).

In the third quarter of 2017, Nigeria imported N1.68billion worth of crude salt from Brazil, N1.33billion from Namibia, N173.36million from the United Kingdom, and N5million from Germany, bringing the total figure of salt imported into the country in the third quarter of 2017 to N3.19billion.

N3.19billion in the third quarter of 2017, rose by 12.8percent to N3.6billion in the first quarter of 2018, and by 41percent to N4.5billion in the first quarter of 2019.

No doubt, this figure will continue to rise as long as the country’s local brines remain untapped.

Interventions  

In March, 2009, Ebonyi State received a grant of $87,939 from the Japanese government. The grant was given under the Japanese Assistance for Grassroots Human Security Projects (GGP), to boost the capacity of women in the salt producing communities.

The ambassador of Japan to Nigeria at that time, Toshitsugu Uesawa, stated that the purpose of the grant, was to provide modern salt production technology, and reduce the labour involved in using traditional method for salt production.

Agwu packaging locally refined salt

The project was executed under the United Nations Industrial Development Organisation (UNIDO) Poverty Reduction through Productive Activities, with the Ebonyi State Salt Manufacturing Cooperative Union as the implementing partner.

According to Uesawa, the project is expected to generate income and improve the living standards of the women in the salt producing communities.

But, this expectation has been cutoff, as the salt extraction plants are in a sorry state and the living condition of the producers are yet to improve.

“This would have been a great project,” Eberike said in the local dialect, as she stared disappointedly at the abandoned extraction plant. “I pray I live to see this dream come true.”

While the local salt producers keep hope of a better tomorrow alive, they continue to make a pinch of salt at a time.