Coutts Woman

Rewarding return to the Mountains of the Moon

When Lulu Sturdy accompanied her mother on a trip to visit her dying uncle in Uganda in 1999, little did the former furniture maker realise the journey would transform her life. But such was the emotional impact of the country that she returned home to the sedate streets of Chipping Norton in the Cotswolds, tied up loose ends, and nine months later moved to Western Uganda to start a new life.

Lulu says, “I was just gripped by it, by the area, the culture, by the mess it was in it. It was obvious that there was a lot to do and I was fascinated by that.”

Lulu’s uncle had moved to Uganda in 1991. Following Idi Amin’s reign, the new government had invited foreign landowners to reclaim their land. Her uncle

was returning to estates, in the foothills of the Mountains of the Moon, that her grandfather had bought in the 1920’s. One had perfect soil for growing tea, while the other, Ndali, was too alkaline. But after experimenting with different crops in 20 acres, her grandfather abandoned the 1,000 acre Ndali estate. Lulu’s uncle sold the tea estate to raise money to invest in Ndali. Lulu explains, “Ndali is quite wild and hilly, but it’s in a beautiful setting and he fell in love with it. He wanted to farm but couldn’t see a way to make it profitable, so he built a tourist lodge.”

When Lulu arrived at her uncle’s bedside, she was immediately dispatched back to Ndali – a seven-hour minibus journey away - to sort out the salaries, which hadn’t been paid for almost two months. “I was bowled over by the landscape”, she says, “But the staff were in disarray. I didn’t know anything about it. The lodge was half built and needed money. He was struggling to attract tourists and the Allied Democratic Front (ADF), a rebel force were in the mountains.”

Following Lulu’s move to Uganda she decided to convert the ailing family plantation into a viable estate.

At the beginning she says, “The ADF was very active. I’d hear gunshots in the night. I slept with a torch and in my clothes for a quick escape. I wasn’t actively scared, but it got the adrenaline going to do what I had to do.”

She added, “I started with zero knowledge and the language was a barrier. I thought I could turn around the farm in a year, make it break even, so that I could put somebody in my place and return to England.”

Lulu researched higher value crops, such as geraniums, vanilla and birds eye chilli peppers. “The government was trying to encourage foreign exports away from traditional crops,” she explains. But she learned grants were available to encourage vanilla farming. And she has subsequently encouraged almost 500 local farmers to grow Fairtrade vanilla.

“I started with zero knowledge and the language was a barrier. I thought I could turn around the farm in a year, make it break even, so that I could put somebody in my place and return to England.”

“I wanted to see if Ndali would be eligible. I grew one acre, and then when it was doing fine I extended it to eight acres,” explains Lulu. “But it’s not just about the ability to grow crops. It’s about understanding the local people and helping the labour force adjust to the new culture.”

To make farming vanilla viable, Lulu realised she needed to also process the spice, which meant buying from other suppliers. “There was no other processor in the county so I received a small grant from the Uganda Vanilla Society to help me buy equipment,” she recalls.

Lulu started with a network of 50 local farmers. “Vanilla prices were beginning to rise to about $400 a kilo, but they had been getting about $30 a kilo because of theft, middlemen and general disarray in the marketplace,” she explains. “I described to them how the world markets worked. I also had strong bargaining power because I offered them the market price.”

But Lulu realised she needed an end user for the product. “I was very naďve. I rang the buyer for spices at Waitrose and explained we produced the best vanilla and asked if he would be interested. He didn’t instantly say no, so I thought there was hope and carried on. But even so I knew we were still two years away from producing enough vanilla to supply them.” She calculated it takes between seven and ten years for a vanilla farm to become viable.

Lulu also realised Fairtrade accreditation was essential, but to attain that she had to alter the way her farmers operated. She had to organise them into structured groups and register these with the local authorities. Some farmers who supplied vanilla lived 200km away, which involved regular seven-hour drives on bumpy mountain roads to explain the process.

“I originally organised them into nine groups, which needed to become strong and independent. It was up to me to explain why forming official groups was to their benefit. They needed constant reminders.” She was helped in her efforts by a Dutch charity that demonstrated the necessity of accurate and transparent accounts.

“The farmers eventually saw Fairtrade as a way to improve their livelihood. The Fairtrade price is five times the conventional price but it is a double-edged sword. Vanilla prices have dropped in recent years below a level at which a Fairtrade operator could break even.”

She adds, “Fairtrade vanilla is expensive in the shops, but if the producer is to make a profit that is the way it has to be.” But Lulu, who now supplies Waitrose with Ndali vanilla, which has been described by chef Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall as “some of the best I have ever come across”, knows the gourmet market is very small. She is now seeking other outlets, such as ice cream and chocolate makers. “It’s a slow process, but I have lots of enquiries and a growing amount of interest. I have no time to really sit back and relax, but I have the most amazing job and I am only just beginning to see all the possibilities.”