“Harmattan”
BY “AWAKE!” CORRESPONDENT IN IVORY COAST
“CRACK!!!” The sound came from the next room. Startled, I looked around nervously. But nobody else seemed to have noticed it.
“What—er—what was that?” I asked my companion.
Hardly looking up from the table, he answered, “harmattan,” as he continued stirring his coffee.
At the time, I was a recent arrival in Ivory Coast as a missionary of Jehovah’s Witnesses. Curiosity aroused, I peered out the window. The sky, covered with haze through which the sun shone blood red, looked threatening.
“It’s getting dark a little early, isn’t it?” I asked uneasily. “Are we in for a typhoon or something?”
“That? Oh, that’s just harmattan,” replied my host nonchalantly. Then he ran a finger along the balcony rail, showed me the red dust on his fingertip, sneezed violently and said: “And that, too, is harmattan.”
You may well ask, as I did: “What is harmattan?” Residents here will answer that it is a hot, dry wind heavily laden with dust. It originates in the burning sands of the Sahara and blows in a southwesterly direction across West Africa. It usually develops in December, January or February and lasts for a few days or for several weeks.
What Causes It?
In the Sahara, temperatures are known to reach 130 degrees Fahrenheit (54 degrees Celsius) in the shade. For a depth of several inches, the sand may exceed 200 degrees Fahrenheit (93 degrees Celsius). Hot air generated by this baking sand rises swiftly. When it meets cooler air above, great turbulence results. This causes dust to whirl high above mountain ranges. From December to February this dust-laden air begins flowing in a southwestward direction, toward the northern coast of the Gulf of Guinea.
Cool and Dry
Temperatures drop considerably during the harmattan season. From Sierra Leone, between Guinea and Liberia, a missionary of Jehovah’s Witnesses relates: “Usually the high temperatures and humidity in this area make it necessary for us to change our clothing several times a day. Well do we remember the surprise of our first harmattan season. In just a few hours the temperature dropped nearly 30 degrees. The brisk cool breeze that swept into our bedroom chilled us. We were in need of blankets to keep warm.”
When this wind blows, humidity also drops drastically. The extreme dryness brings about desertlike conditions even in forested areas. Regarding effects of the sudden drop in humidity is this report from Sierra Leone:
“One morning during harmattan I entered my office and picked up a piece of ordinary typewriting paper. It felt like parchment. As I took a piece of carbon paper out of its box, it began to curl up right around my finger. When I started to insert the paper and carbon into a new typewriter, I noticed that the chrome had started to peel from the handle that manipulates the carriage.
“Perhaps the biggest surprise came after that harmattan had really gotten under way. Right in the middle of a deep sleep one night there was a loud bang. It sounded much like a gunshot. My wife and I jumped out of bed and searched the house for evidence of thieves. But there was none. The next morning, however, we quickly discovered the cause. Gazing at the desk in our room, we saw a wide split right down the middle of its top. We learned that harmattan’s severe drying-out process often causes boards glued together to burst apart. Likewise drawers that fit tightly in furniture during most of the year become loose when harmattan is in full swing.”
In Abidjan, Ivory Coast, the climate becomes so dry that wood carvings will warp and crack. The loud crack mentioned at the outset resulted from the splitting of the wood of our library bookcase. Fortunately, however, it seems that in this locality the cracks gradually close up as the climate returns to its usual high degree of humidity.
The dust that accompanies the dry wind causes poor visibility and creates problems for aircraft pilots and navigators. This affects fishing, too, since fishermen are trained to observe visible signs, such as birds hovering over a school of fish. Some fishermen on the coast of West Africa have gotten lost during harmattan because certain landmarks were no longer visible.
Curse or Blessing?
Harmattan gives rise to mixed feelings. Regarding health, for example, this wind produces drying out of mucous membranes, bringing on hoarseness, coughing and sneezing. Lips will split and the skin becomes dry and cracked. Sometimes fingernails split and hair becomes brittle. One can easily see why the local people wear long, flowing desert robes as well as head and face coverings.
Harmattan can adversely affect crops, too, unless they are given extra attention by irrigation. And the dust is especially annoying. Housewives lament that no sooner have they finished wiping furniture clean than the wind playfully puts down another dust layer of equal thickness. The fine, red dust works its way into everything. It infiltrates the folds of clothing, where it leaves a red stain; it gets into eyes, ears and even food.
Rather than fearing it, though, on the whole West Africans welcome harmattan and the benefits it brings. For example, it dries up stagnant ponds and rainwater in the ditches—thus destroying the breeding grounds of the mosquito, reducing the spread of malaria and other diseases.
Housewives also note a favorable side to this wind. They are happy to see salt running free from the saltshaker, bread and other foodstuffs not becoming moldy so rapidly and clothes drying quickly on washday. Also, the dampness and the mustiness disappear from one’s wardrobe. Especially pleasant is the opportunity to work in a cooler, less humid, atmosphere.
All things considered, West Africans appreciate a period of respite from the limp stickiness that often prevails. The majority consider harmattan more of a blessing than a curse.