Put the current fuel scarcity aside for a moment; paraffin appears to have vanished from our filling stations years ago. Apparently, the commodity has outlived its usefulness. Those who still depend on paraffin for cleaning machines or other gadgets often struggle to find it. Their only reliable source seems to be vendors who bring it in from Mozambique.
What I find intriguing, however, is that whenever an announcement is made that fuel prices have been adjusted, the price of paraffin is dutifully included. I have no idea which paraffin they refer to.
There was a time when paraffin was a must-have commodity in Malawi. An improvised lamp made from a discarded tin or bottle, with a cloth wick, was a familiar source of light for many people during the 1960s and 1970s. It was called a koloboli. Many pupils and students who were serious about their studies resorted to these humble lamps to read by at night.
The secondary school I attended, Robert Blake, had a missionary headmaster who strictly forbade the use of koloboli in the hostels. The lights went out at 10 pm, but some particularly determined students would continue studying by the flickering light of a koloboli. The headmaster would sometimes make his rounds after the students had gone to bed. If he caught anyone studying by koloboli light, he would seize the offending lamp and hurl it through the window with all his might.
In the villages, the koloboli was ubiquitous. Every trading centre had a trader, perhaps several, who kept a stock of paraffin. The fuel was also widely used for cooking and various paraffin stoves were readily available.
More affluent villagers owned what were known as Tilley lamps. These impressive lamps had large tanks into which paraffin was poured. A mechanical pump attached to the tank was then used to pressurise the fuel. The pressure forced jets of paraffin towards a special filament, which glowed brilliantly when lit and cast a remarkably strong light into the surrounding darkness.
When I was a boy, my father bought a paraffin iron. Like a Tilley lamp, it had a pressurised tank that propelled jets of paraffin towards a filament, producing intense heat when the apparatus was lit.
Those were the days when paraffin reigned supreme. Today, it is as rare as the fur of a reptile, to borrow a Chichewa expression. Is this disappearance a good thing or a bad one?
This columnist believes it is a good development, for two reasons.
First, paraffin is a pollutant. When burned, it produces fumes that can harm both the environment and human health. People in enclosed rooms where paraffin appliances are being used are particularly exposed to these emissions.
One component of the fumes is carbon dioxide, a greenhouse gas. Like other fossil fuels, paraffin releases carbon dioxide into the atmosphere when burned. Greenhouse gases envelop the earth like a blanket, trapping heat that would otherwise escape into space. This contributes significantly to global warming.
Second, paraffin is not renewable. It is derived from crude petroleum extracted from deep within the earth and refined into petrol, diesel, paraffin, bitumen and other products. Petroleum originated from organic matter buried millions of years ago and transformed by immense pressure and heat. It is, therefore, finite. It takes geological ages to form, yet human beings can consume vast quantities within a comparatively brief period. One day, petroleum reserves will eventually run out.
Renewable energy sources, by contrast, can be replenished naturally. Solar lamps and solar water heaters, for example, draw their energy from the Sun. They can be used today, tomorrow, next year, and decades from now. As long as the Sun continues shining, its energy remains available for harnessing. Other renewable sources include wind power, hydroelectricity and geothermal energy.
Recently, I asked a filling-station attendant about the scarcity of paraffin. He told me that the proliferation of solar lamps was a major reason for its decline. There may well be more to the story, but his explanation points to a worthwhile question: perhaps we should examine our own attitudes towards solar lamps and other renewable sources of energy. The disappearance of paraffin may not be merely a sign of scarcity; it may also be a small indication that Malawi is beginning to move towards cleaner, more sustainable ways of meeting its energy needs.
If that is indeed what is happening, perhaps we should not mourn paraffin too much. Its disappearance marks the passing of an era, certainly, but it may also herald a future in which cleaner technologies replace smoky lamps, dangerous indoor fumes and dependence on fuels that nature takes ages to replenish.
