African Digital and Green Transition (ADGT) is a project funded by the Ministry for Foreign Affairs of Finland and implemented by HAUS. Through this project, Finnish experts are seconded to public sector organizations in African countries for 3–5 months. This cooperation supports local digitalization efforts and opens doors to sustainable partnerships with Finnish organizations.

Marjo Hoikkanen / Finnish Meteorological Institute

The last weeks of my four-month work period in Zambia have flown by in no time. Work here quickly settled into a daily rhythm, often involving a breakfast salad brought by a colleague with ingredients from their garden and a traditional local lunch at the market, featuring grilled fish or meat and maize-based nshima. Commuting is convenient by taxi, and the affordability of local grocery stores is a pleasant surprise.

     
Left: One of the best things is the fresh vegetables and fruits, which come in an incredible variety.
Right: Ndola Airport is one of the country’s four international airports and is the newest and most modern in Zambia.

I am working as a seconded expert at the Zambia Meteorological Department. My tasks include drafting a development plan, identifying collaboration opportunities with the local meteorological department, and conducting various training sessions, particularly related to aviation weather. This has given me a comprehensive insight into the department’s operations and allowed me to travel outside the capital city. I’ve seen both manual and automatic weather stations and gained an in-depth understanding of weather services at airports.

One of the most remote weather stations I had the chance to visit was on Chilubi Island, which required a
boat journey of approximately 70 kilometers each way.

The local meteorological department faces significant budgeting challenges that leads to immense bureaucracy. For instance, purchasing SIM cards for weather stations requires ministerial approval. This year has been exceptionally dry, as the rainy season ended a couple of months earlier than usual. Coupled with the fact that much of the country’s energy comes from hydropower, Zambia is experiencing a severe electricity shortage, leading to constant rationing. Some homes have generators, but running them is expensive. At our home, for example, we don’t have electricity after 9:30 p.m. Fortunately, we have running water, and battery-powered lights and phone chargers help, but the refrigerator doesn’t stay cold, and there’s no air conditioning. So far, we’ve managed well, but with daytime temperatures well over 30°C and nighttime temperatures above 20°C, it’s becoming increasingly challenging.

Luckily, the rainy season has already begun in the northern parts of the country and is moving southward, easing the electricity situation and providing some temporary relief from the sweltering heat. We’ve also enjoyed several fantastic thunderstorms in recent days.

Kasama Airport is one of the smaller airports, primarily serving domestic flights.
Every airport, however, has at least an observation station and trained observers.

In Zambia, there are no weather radars, not even a website or app from the meteorological department to check weather updates. The globally available weather visualization platform Windy is the go-to tool and is also used extensively in weather monitoring. Weather forecasts, which are prepared in text format daily, are distributed to the public via WhatsApp. Almost all official communication here takes place through WhatsApp or Facebook. This year’s drought has highlighted the importance of weather services, and a press event announcing the rainy season at the ministry was heavily covered by the media and streamed live on multiple Facebook pages.

Over these four months, I’ve also had a chance to immerse myself in the country’s culture and local customs. There are many aspects of this culture that we could adopt in Finland, and I hope to incorporate some into my own life. People here smile and laugh a lot. When meeting someone, they always ask how you’re doing, and even though the response may be the generic “I’m fine” or “I’m good,” it involves genuine, unhurried interaction, eye contact, and a smile. Despite the visible poverty and hardships, laughter echoes in the yards, and children’s faces radiate joy wherever I go.

Things happen when they happen—maybe today, maybe tomorrow. Here, they say: “It’s Zambian time.” If a trip planned for Monday doesn’t materialize, you drag your luggage back home and try again on Tuesday. As someone who is used to a structured calendar, this can sometimes be a challenge.

A large number of automatic weather stations are located in schoolyards, where they are
better protected and their measurement data can also be used as an educational resource.

Foreigners are rare here, so my family and I draw attention wherever we go.  We’ve encountered a great deal of sincere helpfulness and kindness—for example, when dealing with a broken-down car—and genuine curiosity about Finland. Many locals I’ve met want to know about Finland’s history, politics, religion, and nature.

In these final weeks, my calendar is packed with various reports, assessments, and final seminars. I already feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of saying goodbye to the colleagues I’ve worked with over the past four months. But fortunately, our collaboration and communication will continue even when I’m back home.