Giving Up or Growing Up?

I was recently given a lucky opportunity to chase a career… the generic way. I have yet to turn it down so it remains a possibility, and I ponder it over daily. The strongest argument in favour of this wintry 9-5 is that, unless your C.V. carries the experience to justify your opinions, you are simply over opinionated. A second factor is the promise of experience, of challenges, and of belonging in a world where I can truly relax; of voting, objecting, living and doing without compromising myself or doing so on others terms.

One of my biggest fears is of losing my identity; I fear merging into the crowd of commuters on a gray weekday morning, my clothes nothing but alternate sizes to the ones marching in front, my goals the same as my journey’s partner, who coldly edges away in case the corners of our identical coats should brush.

But I look at the big people, the successes, the voices, the ones who challenge the status quo with inspirational change, the men and women I most want to be like, and I suspect they probably did time in a concrete office, twins with the world of Non, and feared it too.

It is not so very bad to merge with the norm at times. And the ability to do so demonstrates the self-awareness and maturity to live in Non and not become a part of it. I jump in, eyes tightly shut, and hope I have what it takes.

Development: An Intricate Dance of Words

It is a rainy Friday morning in East Africa. The weekend looms, promising and cheery, despite the online news forecast of disparaging doom, the pungent smell of which seems to fill my office in seconds. My reading is an attempt to keep up with the world, to judge shrewdly where today’s power lies, and to work with the knowledge of this influence grounding my efforts to channel some of that power, and the fruits of it, towards my organisation. We advocate government pro-poor policy through what is most definitely not a non-governmental organisation. What is an NGO, other than a contradiction in terms? Development is politically, financially and socially organised, controlled and manipulated by governments, whatever the title claims. Always and everywhere. It is a power game of sorts, an intricate dance of words, a duel of meaning and suggestion; a competition of eloquence. It is not what you know that counts, but whether you know how to say it. And the prize is the money. As clichés and quotes have always predicted, it is the money that buys the soul out of everything, and there is big money in poverty. Today, I think, the game is fun. Tomorrow, perhaps not so much.

‘Southern Feminism’ and the Impact of Civil-Society Gender Equity Advocacy

When writing about women, I use the term Feminism with trepidation, expecting the reader to judge this article as promoting angry, anti-male, anti-family, pro-promiscuity actions alongside the destruction of traditional social roles. Where this assumption is predominantly true of the concept in the West, the term ‘Feminism’ here is more in line with what Goetz terms an ‘analytical and practical approach based on the premises that women are oppressed, and a commitment to end that oppression’ (????:45).

Inasmuch as Feminism differs geographically, so also should the focus of the current feminist approach to gender equity. Where the emasculation of men and the inclusion of MAD (Men And Development) have entered the policymaking arena in More Economically Developed Countries (MEDCs), the Less Economically Developed State remains consistently unfocused on the inclusion of women, often accused of simply dismissing the cross-cutting issue of gender as nothing more than a donor-driven whim. Further to this, the State continues to be directly involved in the subjugation of women through the implementation of gendered policies (where gendered involves considering only the interests of men) that continuously place woman in a position of dependency in comparison to men; in terms of inheritance, economic and political rights, a woman’s civil liberties continue to be determined by her relationship to a man. The attempt, therefore, by civil society to promote the inclusion of women in the development policy-making process, can only achieve so much when the main constraint on the progress of gender equity is the gendered state itself.

One attempt to tackle the gendered state is through advocating the inclusion of women in public institutions in order to create a greater gender balance within state administrative bodies. Goetz certainly advocates this as a practical step towards gender equity and, while I firmly support such positive, practical steps to challenge the gender makeup of state power players, I do so asking, is this enough?

With women indoctrinated within a male-gendered society to conform to their subservient social role, what use is it to place them in representative structures without challenging their concepts of gender equality first?

In comment of ‘Mainstreaming Gender Equity to National Development Planning’ by Anne Marie Goetz

Cycling for Sachs

I spent the first 6 months of this year unexpectedly managing a small safari company based in northern Tanzania, offering mountain bike safaris through the African bush with a Serengeti-stopover for some wildlife spotting. The experience was one I shall never forget, chiefly due to the continuous and daily challenges, experiences and events that occurred during those 6 months. In a purely masculine environment, I drove, towed and cleaned an ex-army 101 landrover truck, dug a landcruiser out of 3 ft black-cotton-coil mud, hired and fired an alcoholic cook and, on occasion, worked a ridiculous 80-hour week. One day in March, into the middle of this male-dominated workshop/office, rode two young cyclists called Niall and Grant.

Niall and Grant were two tall, tanned young men cycling from Cairo to Capetown. They had brake problems - vital when cycling south - and were searching out Juma, our trusty bicycle mechanic, who can fix, replace, or rebuild almost anything. With the telling of their many stories, I had an overwhelming sense of jealousy. Their trip, however, wasn’t entirely self-fulfilling. The overland dream was not a selfish ambition, but intended to raise $300'000 for the Millenium Promise: Cycle for Change, a charity initiated by the legendary economic genius Professor Jeffery Sachs. Jacob Weisberg of The Slate.com is one critic who doesn’t fully buy into Sachs theory, and he explains why in his article. Sachs book The End of Poverty suggests that we, the West with the wealth, should listen to Destiny’s Child when they sang ‘spread a little love’ and do more good, be more generous; in short, spend a lot more money on eradicating poverty. Weisberg questions the wisdom of this when donor governments remain unsuccessful in following up on the altruism they so gratefully pour into Africa. Weisberg comments on the arguable success or failure of Bob Geldof’s Live Aid campaign for Ethiopia in the 80s, stating that ‘Ethiopia is significantly poorer than it was 20 years ago… and perpetually dependent on charity’. Weisberg points out the $500 billion in aid poured into Africa over the last 40 years, and the relentless widening of the wealth gap between Africa and the West that has accompanied these handouts.

As an idealistic student sporting a white wrist band to Make Poverty History, I queued for hours to stand just metres away from the great Nelson Mandela in Trafalgar Square. Whilst inadvertently disgusted by Geldof’s profanity in the process, I nevertheless cheered with the crowd. My trip down the road of experience has come full circle, campaigning (read: hassling) on the streets of London for one of the largest donor organisations in the UK, only to make my way to East Africa where I am now employed by a local partner of the same donor organisation. Having raised a small proportion of the cash, I know find myself evaluating the success of its spending, reporting back to one of the largest distributors of aid on where their money is actually going.

Whilst my left-wing cynicism remains functioning when faced with two David-shaped gods-on-bikes, living the dream and spreading the love, my idealism remains intact when considering the efforts of Western governments. Don’t get me wrong, I continue to question the way these efforts are delivered. I have marched through London with millions of others to ensure the visiting Bush knew he was not welcome in Britain. I have chanted ‘Bush Go Home’ continuously on an 8 mile route through The City. I have stood on the side of a dusty African road as the great George passed on his official 5-nation, aid-promising visit in March. I have stuck two fingers up at the accompanying 46 cars, 1 ambulance and a helicopter that brought the nation to a standstill as roads and airports were closed for miles. But I have yet to reach the end of hope. An End to Poverty? I still hope for one.