A broad river bed separates Karonga from the neighboring village. In May a small amount of water sits stagnant in the lower areas while a narrow causeway has dried from the hot African sun, but I can imagine the entire expanse flooding and becoming impassable driving the rainy season probably filled with snakes, crocodiles and other creatures I’d rather not imagine. But for now, goats and cows and pigs graze on the grass that stands thick and lush within the river’s banks.

A hen and her chicks flutter out of the way as our Hi Lux truck bumps along on the narrow dirt track that parallels the river bed. “I don’t like to see that,” Henry’s voice suddenly has an edge.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

He points to the thick reeds, and I see a large sow struggling to get her feet under her large, rounded body. She is unsuccessful and instead must drag herself forward using her front hooves in an awkward lurching motion.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She must have gotten into someone’s garden. They’ve beaten her with a stick,” Henry says.

I sit quietly, thinking this over. This sort of cruelty makes me feel physically ill, yet while in Malawi, I’m surrounded by examples of this attitude. Animals are almost never pets. Even Henry looks at me with a puzzled half smile when I talk about the dog and cats I’ve left at home and how much I miss them. In Malawi cats are rare and only ever kept for pest control while dogs are everywhere but feared by everyone.

Until now I have never written about this uglier side of Malawi because I don’t want people to misunderstand. It’s very easy for you or me to sit back in our warm homes while we sip a latte and put our feet up on a leather ottoman and say, “How can they treat animals like that?” It’s entirely another to live in a state of edge-of-your-seat survival and still have compassion left over for livestock.

If you’ve been following my blog, you might be tired of my ongoing mantra: education for women, yet I believe that even in this instance it applies. It’s not that Malawians lack compassion, but when one cannot see past the next meal or the next chore that comes in a long list of never ending daily chores, compassion becomes a luxury.

I hope that one day Malawians will learn compassion for all living things, but I don’t think that day will come soon. I think it will take education and a certain security within a country where, for most people, every day is hard and raw and punishing.