12 years ago at the UN Millennium Summit, all 190 UN nations re-stated their commitment to work towards spending 0.7% of their countries income on international aid to help end extreme poverty.
The UK has been one of just a few countries to stick to this commitment. On March the 21st, the British Chancellor George Osborne will present his annual budget to Parliament. He will lay out his plans for the economy at a time when unemployment is still rising, the Eurozone is in continued difficulty and consumer confidence remains low. On the face of it, keeping this commitment to aid looks like a hard task.
And of course, this comes just weeks after the news that an opposition politician in India claimed that India neither wanted nor needed British aid. This lead to discussions of whether spending part of the little money we have as a country on international development is still a justifiable option. The government is under pressure to cut our aid budget, and with it, withdraw a lifeline to millions of the world’s poorest people.
While the government of India may be signing contracts to buy new military jets, 300 million people in the country continue to rank amongst the world’s poorest people. And more than this, regardless of how we feel about India, India is not the sole recipient of UK aid.
Whatever spending decisions the Chancellor decides to make, and however tough the current economic climate may be, we know that few people in this country will be left to try and live on only a pound a day. Yet across the world, for 1.4 billion people this is reality – trying to manage their food, heath, rent and travel all on the equivalent of just a pound a day (the definition of extreme poverty).
International aid can have an incredible effect on saving lives; the number of children dying before their fifth birthday has more than halved in the last 50 years, and since 1990 international aid has helped lift more than one billion people out of extreme poverty. Our aid has contributed to the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, TB and Malaria, helping to save at least 4,000 lives every day, and has saved an estimated 7.7 million lives in 150 countries.
Prime Minister David Cameron and Secretary of State for International Development Andrew Mitchell have repeatedly said that as a country we would not ‘balance the book on the backs of the world’s poor’. All three mainstream political parties committed to the 0.7% target before the last election, and it features in the coalition agreement; yet it is at risk in the 2012 budget.
That’s why today we are asking people to take action and contact their MP to tell them they believe that aid spending is important. We’re asking MPs to ask questions at the next International Development Questions on March 14th to ensure this government understands that taking money away from the world’s poorest option is not an option in this budget.
The government spends money on what it believes to be priorities, and without a vocal appreciation of the importance of aid and people standing up to protect it, we are in danger of losing it. So please, click here to take action and show your support for the 0.7% target, and ensure the Chancellor knows this isn’t a budget he can cut.
This is the personal story of a British girl who worked for six months in India.
There was a man who sold bananas outside the office on Tadiwala Road.
Imagine this as a typical Indian city street, full of wandering animals obstructing traffic. Children in pristine school uniforms and large square backpacks tackle the crumbling pavements with ease in their flip-flops. Rickshaw drivers banter with each other and spit over the edge of their vehicles as they jerk expertly along and heartstoppingly close to other road users. Retailers include those of electrical goods, chai, food and unidentifiable necessities and the streets heave with life in that wonderfully chaotic and yet purposeful Indian way. I, a wide-eyed and disorientated westerner, attempt to look casual amongst the throng.
One day, as I stepped outside the cool office building into the sweaty matrix of Tadiwala Road, I asked a man with a bashed-up wooden cart if I could buy a banana. He didn’t scoff at my measly purchase, instead passing a banana to me holding one finger up. I delved into my bag, but to my embarrassment, had forgotten my purse. Immediately recognising the problem, he simply made that fluid hand signal, like a camp man stopping traffic. Translation: it’s ok, pay later. I can’t remember if we spoke, I just remember his calm manner and wide grin. So, I took the banana and made a mental note and made my merry way off up the road eating it.
Before I began working for The Global Poverty Project (GPP) I lived and worked in Pune, India, for six months for an NGO called Deep Griha Society (DGS). DGS is an urban and rural development charity with an outreach of over 60,000 people in the local slum communities where it runs health, awareness and education programmes. Deep Griha is Hindi for ‘lighthouse’ and its motto is ‘in giving you receive’.
I spent my months in Pune doing the usual Westerner-working-for-NGO type of activities. I taught English to staff and children, I visited orphanages and ashrams, I co-ran drama classes at the NGO’s youth centre, assisted with self-esteem classes for dalit women at a local Buddhist centre and helped organise HIV-related rallies and awareness sessions.
I also did lots of things that Westerners do in places like India but don’t mention in international development blogs, namely taking advantage of the exchange rate in bars. I went to Goa and other holiday destinations around the country equivalent to the Indian version of Malaga. My aptitude for being culturally insensitive at times generally meant that I got the impression that I didn’t always make a very good impression on Indian people. However, Indians are expertly gracious, bestowing garlands and gifts at every opportunity to please and honour their guests, be they in their house or in their country. Paradoxically, perhaps, giving, alongside poverty, is embedded in Indian society. This notion brings me back to my story about a man and a banana.
So, after several months of do-gooding had passed by, one horrible day, in one horrible moment, as I pulled away from Tadiwala Road in a rickshaw…I remembered. The man and his banana! I never paid! Full of self-righteousness and the desire to be hugely noble, I jumped from the moving rickshaw shouting to the driver and started frantically striding up and down Tadiwala Road. I searched high and low for a good two minutes and returned to the rickshaw feeling pretty satisfied with my own thorough attempt at accountability and social responsibility.
As we pulled away I glanced back inadvertently….and there he was. He was talking to a woman in the street, his cart unattended. I hopped out again, much to the driver’s increasing agitation and darted inexpertly amongst the traffic to the cart and having placed the money on the edge, dashed back again equally clumsily. I turned back to see the lady who the man had been speaking to pointing to the cart and then to me. The man walked over to it looking confused, saw the coin, picked it up, turned it over in his hand and looked up. As our eyes met I waved in recognition and I remember his face lighting up as he waved, just as vigorously, back. Seeing him happy, naturally made me happy, but more importantly, I felt I’d done the right thing.
For the rest of my time on Tadiwala Road there was a lot more waving between the man and I. We never spoke, but we didn’t need to. Whether I was walking past on the street or sitting on the pavement eating my lunch, if the man spotted me he would grab his latest customer or a random passer-by and regale them enthusiastically with gesticulations far above and beyond my comprehension, about the banana story. I would smile back and end up looking awkward in my attempt to look modest, because inside I was very pleased with myself. I think the significance for both of us was in the circumstances, not the money. In giving you really do receive.
The banana story highlights something at the heart of international development. That every encounter with another person has the potential for positive transformation and that as individuals we are responsible for this potential. We have limitless choices to make in our lives and although no person or organization is perfect, we must choose to do the right thing, and failing this, to right our wrongs as best we can. Whatever the currency, this value holds true.
When working from within an organization we can sometimes forget that it is only through others that we are able to make a difference at all. After all, no man is an island. I suppose the moral of my tale is that if the difference a person makes in this world is as small as meeting a man with a banana, as long as it affects positive change, it’s not bananas at all.
Ever wonder what’s inside your computer that keeps it running? How about how your phone vibrates or rings? These are the questions that the Enough Project, which does advocacy work around conflict minerals, hopes consumers will ask before purchasing electronics in their quest to rid the industry of minerals-based violence. Conflict minerals are defined as minerals mined in conditions of armed conflict and human rights abuses, the profits of which fund purchasing of weapons or to support military actions. The Global Poverty Project’s US tour team sat down with John Prendergast, co-founder of the Enough Project, to learn more about this important problem.
There are four minerals that are of primary concern: gold and also what Prendergast calls the three T’s, tantalum, tungsten, and tin. Gold coats the wires inside of computers, tantalum stores electricity, tungsten makes phones vibrate, and tin is used as a solder to keep all the parts in place. These minerals can be found in locations that are not in places of armed conflict, like Australia, although not as cheaply. Conflict minerals are also much harder to trace since they are mixed with minerals from around the world soon after they are smuggled across borders.
The Democratic Republic of Congo is one such conflict-ridden nation that has used its mineral-rich reserves to fund rebel militias. According to Prendergast it’s one of the deadliest conflicts since WWII, and from 1996, over 5.5 million have died from war-related causes with over 2 million citizens displaced from their homes. Rebel militias use rape of women as their primary means to control and subdue the local populations.
Which leaves us wondering, why isn’t this in the news every day? In a recent article for USA Today, Michael O'Hanlon, a senior fellow at the Brookings Institution, questions why there has been a decisive call for action in the Middle East, where there is a fraction of the violence—1000 deaths in Egypt, 1000 in Syria, and 5000 in Yemen—yet not a murmur regarding the 7.75 million war-related deaths in the Congo and Sudan.
“It really is a recipe,” explains Prendergast, “When the big powers and international institutions involve themselves they often do so in the most meaningful ways when they are supported by a substantial portion of the citizenry and the role of activist is to find ways to creatively work with as many people as they can to actively recruit…to build the political will of our institutions to act.”
Prendergast believe it is especially important for students and young professionals in the United States to get involved, as they are the primary “wild card” in the upcoming elections and are the largest purchasers of smartphones and computers. According to Prendergast, if students and young professionals make these issues known, Presidential candidates will take notice to secure their potential votes.
“It’s fashionable to be cynical in this day of age, but at the end of the day when we do band together and find common cause with other citizens that care about these issues and when we form the networks online and in person, we’ve actually seen these changes happen. That’s where I get hope from.”
November 28, 2011 was historic in the DRC; the first ever democratic national election organized by the Congolese themselves. This relatively undeveloped voting system left the electoral process vulnerable to systemic and local corruption that could erode its very legitimacy. Two years ago I visited communities affected by violence in the eastern DRC, and in late November I returned to help monitor and evaluate the election. Like so many, I hoped that a fair democratic election would serve as a catalyst for change in this war-torn nation.
I was one of ninety international observers contributing to the European Network for Central Africa’s (EurAc) observer mission working in partnership with Congolese civil society organisations and Action for Transparent and Peaceful Elections (AETA) network across all eleven provinces. Our objective was to ensure a peaceful and reliable process which respected Congolese electoral law and human rights.
Over the weekend, we checked that preparation was underway at the polling centres (converted classrooms) checking whether the buildings were secure and if lists of voters had been posted. We took notes detailing whether ballot materials had been delivered to the centres and securely distributed to individual classrooms.
By Monday 28th November, election day, the atmosphere was electric. It was 5:30am, and already people were queuing for the anticipated 6.00am door opening. They had come from all over, some traveling great distances to participate in this momentous event. Their enthusiasm and genuine desire for a transparent and fair electoral process was not only inspirational, but contagious. When the doors opened, Congolese citizens literally ran into classrooms, eager to be among the first to cast their vote. This was far more than civic obligation, it was their opportunity to choose their leaders, and they exhibited genuine gratitude for the presence of international observers.
As evening fell, votes were counted in each classroom and candidate witnesses signed agreed ballot figures. They were then sealed and transported to the National Results Centre for verification. While I bore witness to several amateur practices – including loose ballot papers, sloppy admin, and human error in vote counting - both voters and local polling staff were determined to conduct themselves properly, and tried to do so.
However, reports soon broke out concerning violent incidents in the Katanga province and there was clearly intimidation in other areas (EurAc/Aeta Official Report). And soon the media was filled with controversial reports surrounding the inauguration of presidential incumbent Joseph Kabila. But the vast majority of Congolese did vote peacefully and this should not be discounted or overlooked.
As vote counting in the parliamentary elections continues to be suspended, with officials seeking assistance from foreign election experts, I worry for the Congolese citizens who were so desperately hoping to improve the reputation of their country, both in Africa and beyond.
Much of the international community has responded to the elections with condemnation and frustration. However, it is vital that criticisms of a few do not negate the sincere efforts and genuine hopes of the many. My personal experience is that most Congolese believe in a credible and honest democratic election, and went to great lengths to participate. A dismissal of their efforts risks undermining their faith in democratic values, the very values which the international community has worked hard to support. It is imperative that global criticisms of corruption of the Congolese few should be met equally with admiration of the Congolese many who have endeavored to participate openly and fairly. And international donors, like the UK and the EU, must insist on lessons learned so that future Congolese elections meet the aspirations of the Congolese people more consistently.
‘This is the real story of how Africa works. How the rich are getting richer, and the poor are dying.’ It is with these lines that BAFTA Award-winning journalist Sorious Samura begins his documentary. What is tearing the African continent to pieces, he says, is not diseases, war or underdevelopment. It’s corruption.
The documentary, part of the Dispatches series on current affairs on UK Channel 4, provides a first-hand portrait of corruption in Africa. With the aid of a hidden camera, Samura goes to Kibera, Kenya’s largest slum located in the heart of the capital city, Nairobi. He stays with a local family for a week to show us what corruption means in the daily life of slum dwellers.
Bribes are needed to get into hospital, to get a job − ‘if we don’t pay we don’t work’ − and even just to build a shack in a slum. After paying 3,000 Kenyan Shillings (about £20) in bribes, Samura comments, ‘This is a dirty experience. Altogether I have paid a month’s rent in bribes just to be allowed to build a shack in one of Africa’s most notorious slums. For people here it must be financially crippling, if not impossible’.
Policemen, teachers and housing inspectors − they all need to be routinely bribed. Taxi drivers bribe policemen so that can drive their taxi; students bribe teachers so that they can get their assignments marked (and occasionally get free marks in the process); and slum dwellers bribe housing inspectors so that they can build a roof over their head.
‘There is no sense of efficiency’, says Samura, ‘it pays to be corrupt.’ He points out how the meagre income of hospital staff, policemen and teachers contributes to fuel the bribing cycle. Not being paid properly is part of the problem; greed is another one.
Samura goes on showing the cracks through which development aid allocated for HIV/AIDS programmes in Kenya has fallen, without ever reaching most of its intended recipients. He discovers how many agencies exist only ‘by name’, and how easy it is to set up your own agency and cash in donations.
On the failures of NGOs handing out aid on the ground, a corruption investigator comments, ‘It is a question of going public, making big speeches and saying nice buzzwords…most of them [NGOs] come here as this is a trouble spot. Serve your time, don’t rock the boat. And avoid anything controversial. Do your time and then off you go. Because they have no heart and soul in what they’re doing in terms of what is happening to the country. I remember this music guy, Bob Geldof, talking about making poverty history. I’m sorry, with all due respect to his efforts and whatnot, I think it’s all a waste of time. The key is fighting corruption.’
This is not what you would call a typically optimistic documentary: there is no sugar coating in showing the impact of aid and government malpractice in Kenya.
Rather, it is a disillusioned first-hand account of how corruption works in the daily life of thousands of Africans. With its poignant editing and dialogue, the documentary delivers a clear and expressive message. Both images and content are testimony to Samura’s courage in the photographic journalism and non-adulterated presentation of facts in his documentaries.
A few points to leave with: the documentary is a good reminder of reality vs. idealism − we should not lose sight of what actually needs fixing (food for thought: governance, accountability and international trading agreements) and where/how development/humanitarian work could effectively be improved. Acknowledging limitations and challenges provides an entry point for effective action.
Also, we should not forget that corruption is not just an African problem, but a world-wide one. And when talking about African corruption, the West needs to take responsibility too: as Samura reminds us, there is no shortfall of Western banks willing to help move and store corrupt money coming from Africa.
Lastly, we need to avoid the trap of generalisation and label all development efforts as failed and corrupt: although abuse and misuse of aid do happen, there are brilliant, successful and committed organisations out there that are really putting their energy and soul into making a difference in people’s lives. One at a time.
I spent my months in Pune doing the usual Westerner-working-for-NGO type of activities. I taught English to staff and children, I visited orphanages and ashrams, I co-ran drama classes at the NGO’s youth centre, assisted with self-esteem classes for dalit women at a local Buddhist centre and helped organise HIV-related rallies and awareness sessions..jpg)
