Sanchaari
Field Notes

By Sanchaari Field Team · 19 September 2026

The Tonga of Gwembe Valley: Ilala Palms and Displacement

The Tonga people of Zambia were displaced by the Kariba Dam in the late 1950s. Their ilala basket-weaving tradition survives—and now travels the world.

# The Tonga of Gwembe Valley: Ilala Palms and Displacement

The Kariba Dam was completed in 1958. It flooded Gwembe Valley. The Tonga people, who had lived there for centuries, were forcibly relocated.

Today, their ilala palm basket-weaving tradition survives in the resettled communities, carried forward by weavers whose ancestral knowledge was rooted in a landscape now underwater.

Ilala Palm Baskets

The Tonga weave baskets from ilala palm leaves—dried fronds split into fine strips, then woven into tightly coiled functional forms. Baskets are used for food storage, winnowing grain, and daily commerce. They are also beautiful: each weaver has a signature tightness, color variation, and finish.

An ilala basket takes 2–3 weeks to complete by hand. A small bowl sells locally for 50,000 Zambian kwacha (about $3 USD). A larger storage basket might be 250,000 kwacha ($15 USD). The work is skilled and the material—ilala palm—is sustainable; the economics are brutal.

A weaver earning 5 baskets a month makes $75 USD—below the Zambian poverty line.

Displacement and Knowledge

The Tonga's displacement in 1958 did not end the weaving tradition, but it stressed it. Many weavers lost access to the best ilala palms, which grew in specific groves. Knowledge transmission became harder as families scattered.

Today, younger Tonga are choosing other work—migrant labor, petty trading, wage work in urban centers. The knowledge is being lost.

What Direct Commerce Can Offer

When a Tonga weaver sells a basket through Sanchaari—even at ₹3,000 ($36 USD), ten times the local price—that weaver has just earned the equivalent of 40 days of local sales in a single transaction. The economics shift. Suddenly, it becomes possible to invest time in teaching an apprentice. Suddenly, the craft becomes viable.

This is not romanticization. It is straightforward economics: if the price covers the time and skill, the knowledge survives. If not, it dies.

Our approach with the Tonga: connect them directly to buyers who understand the work, document the techniques with community consent, and ensure the communities themselves control the narrative around their displacement and resilience.

Field Notes are reported and published with the knowledge and consent of the communities they describe. Recordings, images and stories remain the property of the makers and their communities.