Chapter 4: The Two Vociferous Girls

MT Kidane

Hermela is an ambitious young economist who also has a postgraduate diploma in sociology. She studied at the local university and graduated with flying colors. She and her husband, Tedla, have a three year old daughter, Betel, whom they adore very much. Tedla who is an influential agro-industrialist always insists that he would like to have two more children to inherit his estate. Hermela knows that her husband is a family man who is capable of pursuing his business ambitions without neglecting her and their offspring. She had witnessed this in the nine years they have been struggling together. But she is very reluctant to have any more children because she fears that they might threaten her own upward spiraling brilliant career.

Samira is also a professional young woman with a degree in Agricultural Sciences. She simultaneously completed a degree in civil law. Her parallel studies in law were calculated to keep her close to her boyfriend Abdu whom she eventually married. Nonetheless, her bright mind absorbed the two degrees without a wink. Now she has acquired considerable expertise in legal affairs through her work with war-displaced communities. She and Hermela have been friends since their university days. Samira’s husband Abdu, who in the meantime has risen to giddy heights in his legal profession, is very determined to be the most celebrated lawyer and diplomat the country has ever had. He has refused to have any children so far although Samira would dearly love to have a little boy whom she could spoil. Since she doesn’t have a child of her own, she channels most of her motherly instincts to Betel her best friend’s daughter.

Both Hermela and Samira work at the Community Development Outreach Project (CoDOP) where they are co-directors. The two young ladies had come up with the idea of setting up a special project for semi-urban development while they were still very minor employees at the Municipal Council of the capital city of Central Region. They had fought battles on many fronts for their idea. Abdu and Tedla had lent them their considerable weight both privately and publicly pulling all sorts of strings. Municipal authorities had rejected the idea outright because they feared that it might turn out to be too expensive for the council. The two women had buffeted the officials repeatedly accusing them of bureaucratic inertia. Finally, the council found a way to fire them. One of the accusations had referred to them as “the two vociferous girls interested only in flirting on the job”. To the chagrin of the council and other officials this letter is prominently displayed in the reception hall of the CoDOP head office.

The “two vociferous girls” had recruited their husbands who had helped them to setup CoDOP, a non-government high-risk profit-oriented community development organization. They provided the initial funding because no bank or other established organization was willing to take the risk of ‘wasting’ their funds on untested ideas. CoDOP specializes in urban development on the peripheries of the regional capital where social change is very rapid vacillating between the traditional and the modern. The rate of unemployment among displaced subsistence farmers was growing notably out of proportion as the city encroached on rural lands and the way of life of the rural people.

CoDOP assists individuals in these areas to find a smooth transition from agriculture to other gainful occupations. It has helped to setup many thriving green businesses like “fresh-harvest brand” vegetables which dominate the supermarkets. These same businesses also own shares in CoDOP. This has transformed CoDOP—or United Abilities, as the beneficiaries prefer to call the project— into a new type of a highly profitable community development business organization rooted in the community itself. Individuals who are helped to set themselves up do not hesitate to become dedicated paid-up members who are keen to receive advisory and other services. They invest in United Abilities which in turn invests their money profitably in promising startups. They have almost forgotten the existence of banks. Much of the CoDOP funds are ploughed back into new businesses at concessional interest rates. CoDOP has created many jobs especially by providing investment funds for businesses. Women have featured very prominently and with great success in all of CoDOP projects. CoDOP’s popularity has soared among the semi-urban dwellers.

Hermela and Samira as co-directors have kept key controls to themselves as founders and majority shareholders. They have repulsed numerous takeover bids from both national and international organizations interested in community development focused on the urban and semi-urban poor. The “V” girls have kept costs to the very minimum avoiding the trappings of glamorous offices and such like. They have amassed profits year after year paying off all non-essential debts. Shareholders who have found themselves transformed from mere displaced peasants into respectable small and medium-sized entrepreneurs have been rewarded beyond their expectations.

Nonetheless, Hermela and Samira have been careful not to expand too rapidly avoiding grandiose schemes with remarkable ability. The two V girls have rejected all forms of aid, not from the Council, not from the Central Government and not from international donors—all of whom have shown great interest. In humble replies they have merely advised potential donors to setup similar projects of their own. Paradoxically, none of them have taken this advice.

It is a chilly July evening. Hermela has returned from Stockholm where she attended a women’s conference. She has just met Samira on the parking lot outside CoDOP offices. Although the two friends have just knocked off for the day and are anxious to go home they get involved in a passionate discussion the topic of which always seems to captivate both of them.

Samira:            “Hello madam Vociferous! How was Stockholm? ”

Hermela:          “Stockholm! I really enjoyed my stay there. They booked me at a wonderful waterfront hotel. You know, the city is crisscrossed by canals where you can go salmon fishing during your lunch break! The Stockholm Archipelago makes the city unique.”

Samira:              “You silly girl, I am not asking you about fishing and comfy hotels!

Hermela:             Well… The in-word was gender equality!”

Samira:                 “Must have been interesting.”

Hermela:             “Of course it was. There were many women from all over the world.”

Samira:              “But of course that wasn’t the interesting part. I mean, just because you have a bunch of women from all over the place is not enough reason to make it interesting, is it?”

Hermela:          “Yes and no. Yes, because it is very rare for women to sound so important when they are on their own. We women never really discuss world issues of great magnitude like climate change and economic development. Now when you see women discussing seriously such issues and the role of women in the natural order of things and things like that it is quite eye-opening.”

Samira:              “That’s the nice bit! Where does it fall apart at the seams?”

Hermela:          “The punch get out of things because there is very little appeal in women discussing on their own even if what they are discussing is terribly important. It smacks too much of broken glass at a kitchen party. You get the feeling that nothing will come out of all the yapping.”

Samira:              “Come now. It’s not that bad!”

Hermela:          “Immediately we all scatter and go home to face our men, our family, our work places and our patch of the planet, the tune changes drastically. That I think is very bad!”

Samira:              “Of course we’d all like the same tune from the conference to continue at home, wouldn’t we?”

Hermela:          “Not necessarily! It’s just that some conferences are like going to church. We all know that there is a God whom we have to worship and the hereafter which the deserving will inherit. Depending on what our religion is we have all the religious books and artifacts in our houses. We could pray perfectly well in the privacy and comfort of our homes. But no, we need to go to a place of worship where we all gather and reinforce each other in our fragile faith. Conferences are very much like that. They are terribly boring at times.”

Samira:              “Oh my dear! It’s not that bad, is it? I find meetings rather useful. You get a lot of new perspectives.”

Hermela:          “That’s not the point. It is what you are able to do with the ideas when you get back that matter most.”

Samira:              “Yes, and when you are alone…”

Hermela:          “That’s when the works fall apart! Nothing seems to function as it was discussed at the conference.”

Samira:              “We have to march on, though, don’t we?”

Hermela:          “Sure! Of late I have been thinking a lot about this problem. This so-called Developing World we live in is a peculiar place. I am beginning to think that we the women of the D World should place priority on combating poverty than on fighting pitched battles against our men. Such battles seem to be a sheer waste of the meager resources at our disposal. The Industrialized World lasses can afford the distraction! As far as I am concerned the I-girls can clobber their men as much as they desire.”

Samira:              “Come on! Don’t be such a turncoat! Women from both D and I countries are waging the same battles!”

Hermela:          “I honestly don’t feel all that much oppressed and deprived by men. I don’t even feel unequal. I just feel that as a female person I am feminine and men as males are masculine. Together we make a wonderful set.”

Samira:              “The Eden of Adam and Eve died out a long time ago. Paradise is a fiction for desperate people. What’s wrong with you all of a sudden?”

Hermela:          “All of a sudden I think there is something wrong with gender issues. I don’t want to be a man or anything like a man. I am quite happy being a full-blooded woman. There are certain things I wouldn’t want to do. They go against the grain of my femininity.

Samira:              “You can be female and justified. Look at what we have done with United Abilities! Even then do you honestly think the world of men and women is alright just the way it is?”

Hermela:          “No. Not by any means, no! I do see a lot of unjust arrangements between men and women. I see that women almost invariability hold on to the rotten end of the stick. I know we are the workhorse of society. Even the loudmouth liberals still pay their female workers feminine salaries. You know what I mean!”

Samira:              “So what troubles you Lady V?”

Hermela:          “Priorities! The priorities are difficult to organize. I happen to believe that the greatest problem we have in our countries is the general state of poverty. The perceived inequalities between destitute men and more destitute women seem quite petty in relation to this problem.”

Samira:              “You must be joking! Is tackling poverty the mother of all nation-buildning agendas?”

Hermela:          “Look, our male folk are just as poor as we are. The children are in trouble. Wherever you look the landscape is quite desolate! It’s just poverty, poverty and more poverty! Inequalities between men and women seem to be a secondary problem to me.”

Samira:               “Come off it! Discrimination against women is a major factor in the chain of poverty. Women must have equal opportunities with men. We have shown this in CoDOP.”

Hermela:          ”There are not so many CoDOPs around! As a matter of fact, equality is concerned with the quality of life and not the quantities. We haven’t solved the problems of scarcity. There simply isn’t enough to go round. In the D-World the only thing you can equalize is poverty. I wonder if it is better or even possible for all of us to be equally poor. Maybe then, the battle is not worth waging.”

Samira:              “Yah, yah! But while you take care of poverty you should watch out that you don’t remain discriminated and oppressed. Apart from that, if society were organized a little more efficiently by removing discrimination we would be in a much better position to solve the problems of poverty. Poverty and discrimination are interwoven. The fight against one must be accompanied by a fight against the other. Stop sowing seeds of defeat! We couldn’t have gotten anywhere if you’d had that attitude at the time they were pummeling us at the municipal council. Look, now we have United Abilities and we are not doing badly!”

Hermela:          “I just keep on wondering if we are fighting the right battle. I wonder which is better, to be equal and extremely poor or to be unequal and extremely rich.”

Samira:              “Stop wondering. You can be rich and equal! You should focus on that!”

Hermela:          “Look, most of the women at the Stockholm conference came from highly developed countries. They were able to come in force because they are wealthy. I was the only self-sponsored woman from a Third World country. I felt awkward and pretended that I was also sponsored because most D-delegates were funded by a western donor of some sort. I didn’t want to look rich.”

Samira:              “But you are rich and you should accept that!”

Hermela:           “The conference itself was financed by donors. The word ‘donor’ is itself a euphemism for ‘rich country’.”

Samira:               “So what?! They only want to help us.”

Hermela:          “Help?! Then why have you resisted donors in CoDOP? These moneyed women had the loudest complaint. The way they described their situation you would think they lived on a different planet altogether. They plucked out tiny problems from all sectors of life, blew them out of proportions and analyzed them in great detail, I hate to say this—they did it with a cynical kind of pleasure. It was as if they are sadomasochists!”

Samira:               “Phew! You are treading on the extreme edge!”

Hermela:           “It was depressing to listen to them and their whims!  For them it was as if living is just a matter of enduring constant pain. They couldn’t survive under our conditions!”

Samira:              “Whims’! You must concede that they too have problems. We usually say ‘he who feels it knows it,’ don’t we?!”

Hermela:           “Their key problem is not one of poverty but of power-sharing! All their other complaints are just hang-ups from the past. Unlike us they have enough of everything including a substantial amount of social power. They don’t have to worry about desperately poor unemployed husbands and fathers whose eyes are red from worrying and groveling in the dust. They have no fears about starving children or tattered rags. They have no headaches whatsoever about any material thing. It’s just whims! Yet they dominated the conference—to taste a bit of power!  They must have power over someone. Why not over other women—even women from D-nations?!”

Samira:              “You are not saying that they are hypocritical spoiled little beasts, are you!”

Hermela:          “No comment!   They live in a affluent environment. They have access to plenty of social support services. They have child care, social security, pensions and state fund upon state fund takes care of their needs!   All this enables them to leave their children in good care while they go out to compete for jobs and social responsibilities. These backup facilities are the icing on the cake of industrialization. When they complain they do so quite snobbishly and comfortably, I must say! In contrast we two are self-made women that are …!”

Samira:              “I think they still have a case…! Do’t forget your ‘state fund upon state fund’ is another name for the taxpayers’ money.”

Hermela:          “Of course they do!  They are not in heaven, you know. They have problems in getting jobs and being paid equal pay for equal work.  They have problems in reaching the top brackets of their society in business and politics. But, those are not problems of life and death such as we have.  At the Stockholm conference I had the feeling that they were trying their very best to impose their life-notions on us. They argued as if their priority problems and agendas were universally applicable across all nations and cultures. They even insisted on seeing problems as being structured in one and only one way—their way!   They spat out high pitched clever little objections to every which way we Third World women tried to sketch our situation.  It was more frustrating to argue with them than to argue with the worst macho character here at home.”

Samira:              “Don’t you think you are smearing on the grease a little too thickly?!”

Hermela:           “They tried to impose things on us! You know what?! They do it to us only because we are in a generally weaker position. Being poor and all that! That is why I say we had better deal with the problem of scarce goods and services before we unfurl the gender flag!”

Samira:              “I think you have gone off the mark there. What we should try to do is create a united front with them based on mutual respect instead of giving up the fight altogether.”

Hermela:          “Giving up doesn’t come into question. But forget mutual respect! They have never had and they will never ever have any respect for a poor woman from a destitute D-nation. You could expect the benign pity of the arrogant, but never respect!  However, if they want to have a united front with us they must understand the peculiarities of our situation. But no, they are not interested. They merely want to dominate us and show how charming and kind they are. And that’s only because we are poor.”

Samira:              “Despite those women, I still think that to eradicate poverty we must first eradicate discrimination.  Discrimination of any kind is wasteful.

Hermela:          “I agree that discrimination is wasteful. But I am not so sure whether it is our key problem as a nation.”

Samira:              “The problem is that there are lots of talents and opportunities being wasted because of discrimination. In order to reduce wastage we must embark on social, political and other reforms which enable every citizen to fully exploit her or his potential to the full. Women must be free from oppression and deprivation. Most importantly we must have the freedom to decide and to take action. Only then can it be possible for us to participate fully in the alleviation of poverty.”

Hermela:          “I don’t think anything much will happen if you cast the net too broadly searching for comprehensive reforms. Occasions for far reaching reforms let alone revolutions are as rare as a dog’s horn. You ought to know that. History tells its own tale. Any change will be very gradual. That is why we have to sort out the economy and jobs first. In fact, the greatest obstacle to change is development itself!”

Samira:               “This is getting interesting! Look, we can’t keep on standing in this parking lot. Why don’t we go to a café?  We can take some drinks. I am rather thirsty.”

Hermela:          “Good idea! I will drive after you.”

Each saunters to her vehicle and the two V-girls speed off to a nearby diner. They order soft drinks and begin to sip. The establishment is called Jacaranda and is very popular among the well-to-do. The girls are greeted by hullabaloo that the hanging overhead propeller-type  fans seem unable to diminish. The afterwork regulars  are involved in all sorts of discussions. A bunch of army officers have booked an adjacent hall. The military group is rowdy despite the relaxing melodies  piped into the room they occupy. They are having their idea of a very good time. Some of the words floating from there are so despicable that they are best left alone. Samira and Hermela glance with disgust in that direction.

Samira:              “Air Force chaps are more decent!”

Hermela:          “That’s because they are generally more educated.”

Samira:              “Disgusting! Had I known I wouldn’t have driven here?”

Hermela:          “Forget them! They’ll stay where they are. Let’s move over there. I would have preferred to take a glass of wine. But I have to drive.”

Samira:              “I too would have liked wine much better. We can go out at the weekend. I will ask Abdu to drive us. He won’t object. Would you repeat what you said about development. I don’t think I heard you right.”

Hermela:           “No! Tedla and I will come and pick you up. Tedla won’t object to a no-drinking clause. Someone has to drive.”

Samira:               “Let it be Abdu. I like Tedla much better when he gets out of his skin. Alcohol sits better on him than on crazy Abdu. We’ll sort that out later. Let’s get back to development.”

Hermela:          “Ah….I said that the greatest obstacle to change in D-countries is development itself. Yes?  That’s what I said, didn’t I? Ha… ha…ha…! “

Samira:              “Ha…ha…ha! …eek! Damn it! I nearly choked! Hm! Explain!”

Hermela:           “It’s a bit tricky.”

Samira:              “Just explain!”

Hermela:          “Well, just a moment ago you alluded to the fact that change efforts have to be comprehensive if they are to be any good. I suppose I understood you right. To change a social condition we must look broadly. Discrimination cannot be seen in isolation from poverty and vice versa and reforms and so on. That’s what you said.”

Samira:              “I did, though not with those exact same words. You said there was little room for reform let alone revolution. Things are gradual. That’s what you said. No need to go over it again.”

Hermela:          “We agree on the need for change and differ on the pace and nature of the change.”

Samira:               “Not on the nature. Merely on the pace and the style.”

Hermela:          “Alright. I have some difficulties with the proposition that change should be sought comprehensively and only then can it be meaningful. That’s why I tend towards incrementalism. I think it is possible to target certain areas and to achieve good results in them before moving on to other aspects. This also helps in setting and sorting priorities and focusing on effective use of limited resources.”

Samira:              “Come on now! Get to the point. You have alleged that development puts the breaks on change. That’s a contradiction in terms.”

Hermela:          “It is. You have to examine what is generally understood by ‘development’. But to clarify the point I will start with international relations. Why is it that international relations between highly developed industrial countries and developing ones seem to be restricted to ‘development’ and its sequel development aid? What is development? Is development confined to the relationship between a beggar and the benefactor?”

Samira:              “Just come to the point!  We both have some idea of what development is.”

Hermela:           “No, we don’t! That is problem number one. However, my question was rhetorical.  I am not going to try and answer it because to be very honest I can’t provide the definitive definition of development.”

Samira:               “So why are you fussing over the word?”

Hermela:          “You will see later. However, I would like to continue from international relations perspective. I am convinced by all the goings on that many people unquestioningly assume that development aid is the only desirable mode of relating highly I-countries with D-grade states.”

Samira:              “So it seems. But what of diplomatic, political, military  and other relations just to name a few?  What about these?  Aren’t they relations?”

Hermela:          “Diplomatic and other relations merely serve the development game. The centerpiece is ‘development’. It is important that we talk about this holy cow. Why has it become a cornerstone?  How congruent is it with the aspirations of people in our country.”

Samira:              “Okay! Go on.”

Hermela:          “Haven’t you noticed that most economic relations are reduced to development aid?

Samira:              “That’s what you have to show me. I have a similar notion but the ball is still in your court.”

Hermela:           “Good! You have also noticed that high tariffs, market barriers and bureaucratic hurdles of all sorts are geared to keep out developing countries from lucrative markets pushing them on the periphery of the world economic system? You must have noticed! Not a single cacao trees grows in Switzerland but it is this country which is famous for exporting chocolate not Ivory Coast in West Africa. I have pondered over this paradox since I was in elementary school.  Not a single tea shrub is cultivated in the UK but it is a Scotsman—Thomas Lipton—that lent his name to one of the strongest tea brands in the world. We can talk about coffee beans from Ethiopia and Starbucks! These are stories without end! This unequal relationship started during our great-great grandmother’s time and is still going strong. D-countries like ours, supply the raw material and cheap labor and I-countries cream-off the value chain. This in short is the history of the world so far!”

Samira:              “Don’t forget that I am a lawyer and am capable at seeing both sides of the story. I have only noticed our country is grossly inefficient; our political leaders are incapable of organizing themselves and quite hopelessly dependent in their way of thinking and doing things. It seems, we all are active members of ‘me first the devil for the rest’ club!”

Hermela:           “That’s only one of the sides to the problem. I put it to you that developing countries are pressured to sign economic treaties which constrain their ability to perform freely on world markets. And that has something to do with their weak bargaining power. They can’t export their goods as they might under a free trade regime. Political and diplomatic relations maintain the ‘understanding’ and tolerance of this unjust system.”

Samira:               “Okay! That’s clear enough.”

Hermela:          “On the other hand Industrial countries are free to roam the world and to exploit resources wherever they may be found. They are so free that they even dump dangerous waste in unsuspecting developing countries especially when this is too costly to recycle in their own countries. Imagine that! They dump toxic waste on ignorant people who never enjoy the original product from which the poisonous junk came!”

Samira:              “It’s awful!”

Hermela:          “That’s what we keep on saying, awful! But as if it is not enough they regulate the markets in their own countries by forming a regional VIC groupings in such a way that our goods remain out! [editor: VIC stands for very important country, say like a member of the EU.] It’s either the bureaucracy is made unduly cumbersome or very rigid standards are set for imported goods. Very often they merely apply quotas on how much a particular D-country can export. Sometimes it’s just a matter of slapping high tariffs and duties on the ‘offending’ goods. High tariffs and quotas are imposed when we have cleared all the other hurdles and they have run out of excuses. There are many other complications which they create. All these maneuvers ensure that we stay on the periphery of the world economy—looking in from the outside!”

Samira:             “Let’s see if I am keeping up with you. You said that first they force us to sign constraining treaties with them. Then they build economic barriers of various types to close off their own markets. I won’t mention all of them, but fences and walls they are anyway. You also said they themselves remain unrestricted as marauding hyenas free to loot wherever their fancy takes them.”

Hermela:          “Yes, in a nutshell! That’s why I like you. You are such a good listener.”

Samira:              “Thank you! You yourself are a superb rabble-rouser! Going back to your premise, that means that the world economic order is skewed against us!”

Hermela:           “That’s the point I was trying to make!”

Samira:              “Okay, Okay you have made your point. Now what?”

Hermela:          “The next point to make is that such an unjust system has its own props which maintain it. Otherwise it wouldn’t stand.”

Samira:               “And so!”

Hermela:          “I think now you should see that diplomatic relations are just such an instrument of persuasion and development aid a diplomatic blindfold?”

Samira:              “I can’t. Not yet!  It’s quite a leap to move from the world economy being tilted against us to concluding that development aid is a diplomatic blindfold!”

Hermela:          “Look! If a developing country doesn’t do as it is told to do by an industrial one it will be brought before the IMF or some other multilateral body controlled by the industrialized West to account for its misbehavior, wont it?”

Samira:              “I can’t think of a Third World Country which has not gone that route more than once!” They’ve all have had a taste of the rawhide whip as far as I can tell!”

Hermela:          “Exactly!  That is strong-arm diplomacy!  The charge is normally economic incompetence of which you are presumed guilty until you prove yourself innocent. No country has ever managed to prove its innocence!  The punishment is invariably a painful mechanical adjustment program executed at breakneck speed. Failure to comply or running out of breath leads directly to the imposition of economic and other sanctions by the industrialized West. That’s in addition to all those other barriers I have already discussed. The question is how such an unjust system can be maintained?!”

Samira:              “You tell me!”

Hermela:          “Firstly, you have the ever-present military threats. Such threats are thinly veiled in talk of strategic mutual interests. By now we are all aware what these interests are, but the language is still vague enough. You also have the infiltration of agents to provoke riots and revolts. Such radical steps are taken against independent-minded noncomplying governments. The routine instruments, however, are diplomatic ploys and arm-twisting with development aid as the carrot which accompanies the stick!  Strong-arm diplomacy and aid are the real props of the system. Subservient regimes are bribed to ensure that the props are maintained in place come hell or high water! ”

Samira:               “But I thought aid is meant to help us.”

Hermela:          “Aid is given only on the condition that a recipient country behaves according to the wishes of the donor and not according to the needs of the beneficiary populace. They call this conditionality—a very sick word! It’s either you get development aid and accept being on the periphery of the world economy or you get nothing!  Diplomatic and other pressures are applied to make you accept aid as the lesser of the two evils. ‘Nothing’ means you get debilitating sanctions and all those other things I have just been mentioning. With all avenues firmly closed you have no choice but to eat humble pie!”

Samira:              “Sounds like it! But you are not saying anything radically new.”

Hermela:          “It doesn’t have to be something completely  new. A bare truth will do. But the point is that you must agree with me when I say that development aid is the instrument through which advanced countries control weaker ones. They have other controls, of course, as I have already tried to show. But development aid is a special mechanism because it looks so innocent, selfless and harmless. It also gives the impression that something positive is being done about the situation of our countries and it pacifies some voices which might suggest radical solutions. Aid is attractive and our countries swallow it up as children gobble ice-cream on a hot summer day.  And we are grateful that some kind people in industrial developed nations are watching out for us.”

Samira:              “I will go along with most of what you say, but I would separate the generous people from the aid industry. Most people are very genuine when they make donations and when they argue in favor of development aid. What happens to their money when it enters the aid carousel is something else. They don’t have much control over the money once they have handed it over to the robber barons. As for the gobbling you cannot be too far from the truth. Look at how much this country is indebted! Its soft loan here, a hard one there and a grant there. Phew!”

Hermela:           “The point I am trying to make is that developing countries are excluded from other avenues of sharing in the resources of the world. I have tried to make that clear.”

Samira:               “Sure. And you are repeating yourself over and over! Stop being a one-narrative lass! It’s also clear that developing countries are pressurized to stop attacking the world economic system as unjust on the grounds that they can be offered development aid instead. Did I get you right?”

Hermela:          “Yes you did. Instead of opening up the world economy all you get to hear is development aid and development aid! They always sound like a retired only one-hit rock star!”

Samira:              ”That is peculiar, of course.”

Hermela:          “It is indeed!  Great business people talk kindly and gallantly about aid. That is because aid is one of the greatest killing grounds. I-country taxpaying citizens kindly donate aid money freely. A business organization does not have to work hard to earn the aid money channeled through it. All it needs is influence in the right places. In a very rough and highly optimistic guess, I would say only about ten per cent of all funds designated as aid actually ends up in the countries the aid was intended for. Even then most of it goes to paying expatriates and making procurements from the donor country’s industries. In part, that also accounts for the fact that there are more funds leaving developing countries than entering them. I don’t think you will find a single country which has shown any positive results due to aid and the accompanying prescriptions. Instead the gap between the rich and the poor countries has widened and the resource flows from developing to industrialized nations have intensified growing completely out of proportion to aid flows. Our country is bleeding!”

Samira:              “Oh I see! Aid is a lousy compensation for being excluded from free international trade. It is sucked right back to where it came from with interest! It is terrible to imagine that they actually use it to cheat us out of other resource-sharing opportunities. It is quite difficult for me to believe that aid is a weapon of domination?”

Hermela:          “You had better wake up! The goodwill of the charitable has been high-jacked by the I-country elites. Aid is in itself very profitable and self-perpetuating. It lubricates the world economic system, opening and maintaining markets. It keeps our countries solvent enough to repay debts on international borrowing.”

Samira:              “That sounds familiar!  It is similar to the conditions which usurious money lenders love to create. They lend impossibly high amounts at killer conditions and exorbitant interest rates and then thrive on their debtors!”

Hermela:          “Only this time it is on a world scale! That’s why western countries were more frightened by the Financial Crisis than the indebted countries. The cow that gives the milk must be kept alive! The more our countries become indebted the more they are dependent on more and more aid!”

Samira:              “We end up working our lungs out just to pay huge interests not to mention payments on principal amounts. God, it’s frustrating!”

Hermela:          “That leaves us with little or no opportunity to trade freely, to improve or to expand our production, to sort out our social problems like gender issues let alone to ensure basic political stability! At that rate we can’t carry on an equal footing with them. While we struggle with aid and its consequences they are busy looting world resources exclusively for themselves.”

Samira:              “It’s awful! Somehow we must get rid of aid!”

Hermela:           “Be very careful!  It’s the world political and economic order which needs drastic change. In addition, the ideology of charity which accompanies aid is also difficult propaganda to deal with. And I believe our situation still demands genuine help.”

Samira:               “Oooh! It’s slippery!  I meant getting rid of aid as it exists today.”

Hermela:          “That’s possible. However, if you complain effectively about aid you will be condemned as an ungrateful creature. Silence means that the exploitation continues! Here I mean not just the exploitation of us in the poor countries. I also mean the abuse of ordinary citizens in developed countries who make genuine donations and other efforts to get aid flowing.”

Samira:               “The captains of the aid industry have made a good job of hoodwinking a lot of honest people around the world, haven’t they?!”

Hermela:          “I hate to agree with you, but there is nothing more true than that! Even emergency relief aid is a boon!”

Samira:               “Yah! I can imagine how sales volumes and profits surge when there is a major relief operation!  Aid agencies buy all sorts of items with relief funds. Some of the items are quite unnecessary!  The main thing is everyone gets a piece of the cake! Business people are very happy to hear of a major catastrophe somewhere where they can supply items.It is Kodak-moment for the politicians of both the donor and recipient nations. It is a win-win situation for those in authority!”

Hermela:          “Would it surprise you if they view our suffering in terms of the balance sheet?”

Samira:              “Nay! My, my, you have been thinking hard, yes?! But what’s all that got to do with the question of equality of opportunities between men and women?”

Hermela:           “You still haven’t got it?!”

Samira:              “It’s a bit complicated to link the world economy and how our countries get a raw deal to the situation of women in the Third World. I still think that we women have to put all our energies in fighting for our rights!”

Hermela:          “Without regard to what is happening around you?! You and your man are oppressed, deprived and disadvantaged. What rights are you going to wrestle from him?  He is already in a very bad shape. We need our men to fight against exploitative systems. They can’t do that if we keep on stubbing them in the back. By doing that we shall only be helping our true enemies. Our poverty will get worse. We should close ranks and fight against poverty and its root causes. A better economy will bring better conditions and more resources for reforms! I won’t throw CoDOP at you!”

Samira:               “You have picked up nasty lawyer habits from me!  By saying you won’t throw CoDOP at me you actually do throw it at me! Nevertheless, how can we women participate in the good fight if they keeping throwing spanners in the works?”

Hermela:          “Of course we should fight for a proper place on our men’s sides, like you and I, for example. We four make a great team! The question is how we all help pull out the economy out of the doldrums. We will never be truly free, not from our men, and not from debilitating social conditions unless we develop our tangible economic resources. If we have nothing what shall we quarrel about? Being hysterical about gender issues is only another one of the red herring! It is misleading! It is not as if you as a woman are completely incapable of doing anything as it is.”

Samira:              “I think it is a mistake to drive a wedge between social justice and economic development. Gender issues concern social justice and not simply the quality of life as you have been assuming.”

Hermela:          “I would like you to understand that no matter how hard you try you will find very little social justice in poverty. The maintenance of social justice requires substantial resources. Such resources don’t grow on mango trees! We have to work for them by building good economies.”

Samira:              “Good! But we can’t just stand back and say let the men do it! We all have to pitch in. And we can’t be of any use if through discrimination we are unable to use our talents to the full. You should also stop mixing up the question of poverty with that of social justice. It is possible to be poor and just as much as it is possible to be rich and unjust.”

Hermela:           “I will just be blunt!  Given your options I’d choose to be rich and subordinate over being poor and oppressed!   For instance, women in rich countries may perhaps be subordinate. But their life is not half as bad as ours. As a matter of fact, the West has saddled us with so many rights issues—environmental rights, ethnic rights, minority rights, animal rights, children’s rights, women’s rights, religious rights, family rights and what have you with many more in the pipeline.  All these rights cost something. We will collapse under their weight so that in the end we will have no rights at all because the cost of maintaining them is prohibitive!  We have to concentrate on expanding our resource base. Everything else will follow naturally. In fact, that’s exactly what happened in industrial countries.”

Samira:              “That’s quite a mouthful. But I think you are being too mechanical. There is a lot of positive synergy to be realized between democratic rights and economic development. People will contribute more to economic productivity if they are free to do so and if they have the opportunity to enjoy rights.”

Hermela:           “As I have said before, it is not a question of either or. It is mainly how you rank your priorities, responsibilities and rights. In situations where rights get in the way of sound resource management, my decision would be very clear. I would place economic advancement first because it will produce a greater capacity to fulfill more rights later. Choosing rights before proper resource management would merely undermine the realization of many more rights including those that you already have. If the country can pay for extra rights well and good!  If it can’t, we have to work and save!  That’s the only sure way of preserving our current and future rights!”

Samira:               “Oh come on! Back-off Madam V! How can you work if you don’t have enough elbow room?  The main issue is that men have to give way.  They should let women have a proper whack at life!”

Hermela:          “If you hope that men will give you the driver’s seat simply because you are an outraged lady you are wasting your time! If they give you the driver’s seat where will they sit?!  Where will you drive to?”

Samira:              “They will sit at the back! And I… I will be driving into the future.”

Hermela:           “Just like that!”

Samira:              “Yes, just like that! Where do you think I should drive to?!”

Samira and Hermela: “Ha, ha, ha…!   They laugh a lot, long and uncontrollably. Tears of laughter roll down Hermela’s cheeks.

Hermela:          “I’d… prefer … sitting… side… by side with either him or me behind the wheel. Do you think there is any justice in replacing injustice against women with injustice against men? We have to aim for justice for all, you know. In any case, from where will you find skilled and educated women to run things?”

Samira:              “You’ve hit the nail on the head!  From where indeed?!  If we don’t agitate for more education and other opportunities we will never have a pool of women capable of running things. ”

Hermela:          “So we the women must put everything on hold until such time when we have won the battle against men and have such a pool of superwomen.”

Samira:              “If necessary, yes! But of course you are deliberately misunderstanding me. The frontline in this battle is in the performance of everyday mundane activities in whatever sphere of life you may care to think of. Nothing will be on hold!”

Hermela:          “Glad you caught me shoving, madam lawyer! But still, I think we should be pushing for more and better education and for other opportunities not just for women, but for all. The whole population must be properly educated—men, women and children. Only then can we have proper justice!  Yet still we have to take things one priority after the other and keep our eyes at all times on the purse. We shall then conquer poverty.”

Samira:              “I just can’t bring myself to believe that we women at the forefront should censor ourselves. Censorship should be the job of those who oppose gender equality! Our task is to attack on all fronts until something gives. ”

Hermela:          “I agree that the fight for gender equality must continue. I differ with you on its priority ranking. But as in other things we have to remain muted in diversity.”

Samira:              “What do you mean?”

Hermela:          “Some women can carry on the fight without compromise. Others can be a bit more pragmatic and opportunistic. There is enough room for all types. Agreed?!”

Samira:              “No. You are fragmenting our forces. Your stance will weaken every woman’s commitment! I say hit the men where it hurts them most.”

Hermela:          “I don’t think that resolve will be weakened.  Radicalism may alienate many who would otherwise pitch in. Those who are not as courageous or as reckless as you are can rally around my type. They will be doing something better than just lamenting at home.  Brave ones like you can go to the battlefront.  Okay?!”

Samira:              “Nay! You fear men too much!”

Hermela:          “No, love them. It is the image of having to fight all the time which sends spiders up my spine. If you fight all the time when are you going to enjoy life? In addition, the very fact that the gender agenda is set in foreign lands doesn’t give me the appetite to wage battle against my most trusted men whom I have lived with all my life. I don’t know what those foreigners’ interests really are in this matter.

Samira:               “What do you mean by the gender agenda?!”

Hermela:          “Well, it is like all other development themes. Gender is a political animal in western countries. Gender matters are imposed on us through a lot of unrelenting propaganda. Seminars, meetings, courses, books, newspaper articles, radio programs, news, development projects and what have you are all employed to spread the idea around. Before that it was the fight against global poverty. All one could hear then were shrieks of ‘close the gap between the rich and the poor’. It vanished because it ceased to be a political fad in the West. Then came other catchphrases and now we have the gender thing. It too will disappear in the wake of new western whims. All these western noises seem to be more helpful to their politics than to our material situation. Our men are not the monsters they try to make of them. They are just normal people. They toil. They hurt. They cry. They love. They laugh. They suffer hunger. They worry. They lose their tempers just like you and I!”

Samira:              “They are normal creatures, I suppose. But I will not tolerate any man trying to exploit or abuse me.”

Hermela:           “No woman in her proper senses lets a man get away with anything like that. There are effective ways of teaching them bitter lessons. You only have to be subtle. You have to choose the time, the place and form of combat carefully. If you miscalculate things can get out of hand!”

Samira:              “How do you keep balanced perspectives?”

Hermela:          “It is simple. Just get them off your back. Or better still, don’t let them onto your back in ·the first place!

Samira:              “Not very helpful.”

Hermela:           “What do you mean?!”

Samira:              “You know I want a kid from Abdu, but he is intractable—that beast of a workaholic!”

Hermela:          “As I said you should choose the time, the place and the method of combat very carefully. He will be happy to give you your coveted child!”

Samira:               “Why do you sound more funny than convincing?”

Hermela:          “That’s because I am telling a simple truth. Things which sound complicated are not worth the words with which they are spoken.”

Samira:               “Look, I must go home now. Don’t forget I have a husband!  Abdu must be tired of waiting for me.”

Hermela:          “What will you do if he becomes nasty because you are late?”

Samira:              “Abdu is not like that! But just in case… I’d like you to know that I will make a new conquest of him by being extra….!!! Men love the soft female touch when they are mad. It soothes their demons! Don’t ever mix up gender issues with ordinary family life. It will be your ruin. In the family only love and respect works wonders.”

Hermela:          “Ugh! ‘”There is more to it than just love.”

Samira:               “Try bashing Tedla and see if that works!”

Hermela:          “Don’t worry. He is much too powerful and I like it that way!  I can’t imagine myself being married to a half-baked wimp. I like to overwhelm a real man with my feminine charm again and again. It is unique!  I wouldn’t give it up for any gender issue!”

Samira:              “See what I mean!  But don’t get carried away. Just make sure he doesn’t fall prey to the feminine charm of a sharp-eyed prostitute. A real man at your bosom is worth a lot more than a whole bunch of machos out on the street!”

Hermela:          “Goodbye, you lousy female!”

Samira:              “You are not staying here, are you?!”

Hermela:          “Here?! Of course not!”

Samira:              “Then wag your tail nefarious Eve!  Go give your Adam an apple!”

Hermela:          “As if yours doesn’t eat any. Let’s go!”

As they catwalk out of the diner it falls momentarily silent. Eyes bore deeply into their fine backs, but they ignore them in the manner of those who are used to such stares. Completely at ease each heads for her waiting car. Suddenly a man emits a short sharp cry his face an ugly mask of pain. His sullen wife beside him has just pricked him violently with a hair pin in the back of his erring neck. As our two Vociferous Girls hastily departed from the well-trafficked diner, the timeworn jukebox was playing a classic Eritrean song.

 

Chapter 3: The Counterpart

MT Kidane

Ali and Hagos work as credit officers in the Small Farmer Rural Credit Scheme project funded by the EU and run by the Ministry of Agriculture. They graduated from the national college the same year. Both studied at the business and economics department. They were recruited by Small Farmer & Rural Credit the same day. The friendship they developed while in college has endured. In fact they enjoy each other’s company so much that the two seem to have entered a silent pact to watch each other’s back at their workplace. When the two are alone, their conversation tends to be more candid. They usually take their morning break at the project cafeteria which is housed in the basement of the MoA main building. As soon as they place their orders they start updating each other on office gossips. As usual it is Cool-Hand Ali who starts the ball rolling.

Ali:       “They have appointed John as the counterpart to the new expatriate advisor in the credit department. The funny thing is that neither the expatriate nor Lend-me John have been     substantively appointed to the post of Credit Manager.”

Hagos:   “Sounds like a hanging indent.”

Ali:         “A what?”

Hagos:   “Never mind. I was just wondering what they intend to do with the current Credit Manager.”

Ali:         “Oh, you mean him! He will be sent on a two year course, a master’s degree of some sort. In Edinburgh, in Scotland, I believe. By the time he comes back things will have sorted themselves out.”

Hagos:   “But he is rather old. Isn’t he due to retire in about three years’ time? I think it is a waste of resources to send a finished guy on an expensive course.”

Ali:         “It might be more expensive to have him around. The three of them can’t perform on the same post. They are just getting him out of the way. A course abroad will compensate him for the loss of his post. Besides it is the donor organization which will foot his scholarship bills.”

Hagos:    “If they think he is incompetent, why did the Minister of Agriculture and Cooperatives promote him to the post in the first place? It was a waste then and now it will only get worse. If they know that he is incompetent they should at least demote him to a level where he might be more capable and useful. I, for one, would relieve him of the burden of his duties. I’d give him the heave ho!”

Ali:          “You seem to forget that incompetence has never been a sufficient reason for sacking in this project. Bear in mind that everyone belongs to a clique. A balance between the competing factions must be found. The only viable solution is to compensate this worthless creature with a trip abroad for a master’s degree. This way, the cliques keep each other in check, you know.”

Ali:          “Then you can imagine how suitable the punishment of being sent abroad is for him. He will be happy to go to Europe. He would never have dreamed of traveling abroad in a respectable capacity in his life. You are also mistaken on qualifications. He has what they call life experience. No one checks on how meritorious his life experience is. You just list what you have done. Simply being experienced in living is enough for a positive evaluation. If the experience is a long trail of failure, it really doesn’t matter to anyone. The educational enterprises abroad accept such students. See what I mean?”

Hagos:     “It’s terrible! Sending such unintelligent fellows to these countries gives a very wrong impression on IQ values in our country. Such caricatures are grisly ambassadors. I really long for those days when kids were sent abroad because of their brainpower and potential for greatness.”

Ali:           “All that doesn’t matter nowadays. He will pass his examinations. Where he will go to they never flop, you know. Have you ever heard of someone like that failing? It is a good business to run fail-safe international schools in Europa!”

Hagos:     “Yes, I suppose it is a very good business. They give aid to education and then insist that the students come over to their country. The money gets spent in their country on their things. They also familiarize individuals with their country and thus they cultivate future quislings at worst or allies at best. We are talking about the formation of fifth columns and sidekicks. Whichever way you want to look at it we lose.

Ali:            “Whose fault is that?”

Hagos:      “It is certainly our fault, or at least the major portion. Look at how crazy the HRD [Human Resource Department] operates. The policy of sending fools abroad is our very own. Our HR department doesn’t even bother to look for the best qualified individual. Do you remember that guy who was appointed logistics manager? He was on such a study-bonus in Italy last year. Yet he has never seen the inside of a classroom. He can barely read and write and is a hideous windbag. Whose fault is that, do you think?”

Ali:            “The expatriates insisted on having him at the driver’s seat in the transport unit so far as I can remember because he kowtows to them like a lapdog.”

Hagos:      “You cannot blame it all on donors now, can you? Our very own hyenas are sitting on the top floors. They occupy all the offices which are warm when it is cold and cool when it is hot outside. They appoint each other. Is that the fault of expatriates or donor agencies? I doubt!”

Ali:            “Expatriates are not entirely blameless in this matter. They could offer good advice instead of insisting on the appointment of a street bum. What irks me is that on such matters they always seem to gravitate toward a person who cannot think for himself and whom they can control like a robot. They are quite sensible on financial control, but not on overall good management. If they used the same stubbornness on personnel issues as on finance the situation might be better.”

Hagos:      “You may be right there, but don’t you think that you are merely passing the buck? Good management whether in finances or otherwise is our responsibility as nationals. They are here only to advise us. You cannot heap all sorts of mismanagement at their doorstep. Instead, I think you should be asking why we don’t seem to do anything sensible ourselves. After all we know what’s wrong.”

Ali:           “Some of the wrongs can only be dealt with from outside. You know the consequences of raising too many questions. Your career will either stagnate or it could end as abruptly as when you snuff out a candle. None of us wants that to happen, do we? An expatriate can always go home and continue with life there. We are here to stay. We cannot be as radical as they can be. We have nowhere to run to.”

Hagos:     “I think the only long term solution to such problems is time. As new generations of managers take over old practices will decline. New values will rise. We shall need changes not only in projects but also in our social and political cultures. The change should place productivity at the forefront. I don’t believe that it is possible to supplant nepotism, corruption and mismanagement as long as we don’t believe in performance and its practical results. A proper work ethic in which personnel are evaluated on the basis of their performance should be that main criterion for overall improvements.”

Ali:            “Nevertheless, we are not at all that bad. There are some good ones who manage to squeeze into influential positions. It’s not as if we are all that bad in every sense of the word. Take for example, John who has just been appointed counterpart. He is very intelligent, hardworking and well-educated. He can also get along with people quite well.”

Hagos:       “True enough. However, the points to note are that as a counterpart to an expatriate he won’t be of much use to anyone and he won’t get anything done. Expatiates never listen to any local fellow no matter how good he or she is. They always stumble along heavily like elephants crushing everything in their path, good or bad. They are completely insensitive to social, psychological and cultural aspects of living and working together in a project. They believe that we are always wrong and that they always are right. They feel infinitely superior so much so that they are blind to realities. That expatriate will ride roughshod over Johnny-boy. He can easily end up a dead weed.”

Ali:             “Well, that is only one part of the story. John will be torn between local interests and those of his expatriate counterpart. If he pleases the expatriate much too often in defiance of local views, the locals will punish him. If he is seen to lean too heavily against the expatriate, the expatriate will become frustrated with the counterpart relationship and view it with suspicion crying foul. John has to be a natural-born diplomat to negotiate the thin line of jealousies. Whatever happens, in the long run he will lose. One day an issue will arise on which he’ll have to take sides with no room for wriggling. On that day both sides will demand total loyalty. It will be checkmate for him. End of the game. He will fall out, if not with one then with both sides. This is the sort of thing which turns counterparts into gray people without their own opinions. They constantly seek comprises. To be a local counterpart is the hardest job there is in this project. You have to deny yourself. Each day is plagued with dangers of alienating one or the other of the sides. The consequences are often very brutal. John will live dangerously for the next few years. You can be sure of that!”

Hagos:        “As if that is not bad enough, when the expatriate goes back to his home country Lend-me John will remain at the mercy of the locals. All those who couldn’t touch him because they didn’t want the expatriate in their hairs will now have free range. It will be open season on John. Shots will come from every which way he looks. The goal—to demolish him totally.”

Ali:              “That’s about the shape of it! The whole idea of having a local counterpart is negated. A counterpart is supposed to understand the expatriate. When the expatriate goes, he can then continue performing well having learned some professional tricks from the sojourner. In reality, what happens is that a total war is declared on the poor chap even as the expatriate is still packing to go to the airport.”

Hagos:       “In a certain very crude way, attacking a fellow like that does make some sense. A local counterpart such as Johnny acquires a high profile by being associated with powerful foreigners.”

Ali:             “Of course we can’t deny that expatriates are seen to be powerful. They sit on the project’s aid money and come recommended as professional performers. They push everyone around with impunity.”

Hagos:       “Everyone, including our supervisors, is very vigilant around them and people bend backward to keep them happy so the aid money can keep flowing.”

Ali:              “Yeah! You can’t keep aid dollars flowing if you frequently irritate its honorable custodians.”

Hagos:        “That’s what makes advisors powerful. By sharing or merely appearing to share in that power a local counterpart acquires an aura of power as well. He must be cut to size very quickly before he gets out of hand.”

Ali:              “I think you are right. By virtue of associating with expatriates the local counterpart has greater access to project resources. For instance, under special arrangements he gets to drive the project vehicle. Normally a local fellow cannot even so much as touch it.”

Hagos:        “In fact, many things get somewhat easier for the local counterpart. He drives the project car when he or his wife has private errands to attend to. He devises his own work schedules. He freely draws on special project accounts with or without backup from the expatriate, depending on the arrangements.”

Ali:              “He gets to organize things and gives guidelines which everyone assumes have the consent of the expatriate. He gets to do things that none of the other local guys can ever attempt.”

Hagos:       “Yes, yes! He is not even obstructed by such hazards as no transportation, no funds, no computers, no paper or no permission.”

Ali:             “Bureaucratic rules don’t stand in his way. With little effort he is given wide latitudes to fulfill his role as counterpart to an esteemed advisor. Therefore, he appears more intelligent, more efficient and more powerful than ever before. He even gets invited to the lavish parties which expatriates frequently throw to wipe off their homesickness. In many eyes he seems to be in a class of his own well up on the ladders of the social scale. When the time comes he must be brought down to his proper station—heavily. This has to happen swiftly, very rapidly because everyone is fed-up with blowing trumpets for the lousy fellow. It is a pity, isn’t it?”

Hagos:       “A cruel joke, I must say. A furious mechanism for social equalization. In the meantime many fellows know about this. When they are appointed to be counterpart they use their position to profit as much as they can out of the situation. They even start looking for a new job well before things get ugly. Immediately after the expatriate goes they also leave. It would be a waste of valuable individual resources and time for a fellow to attempt to stay on after his expatriate mentor has gone. With all daggers drawn and all of them aiming for his throat there isn’t much of a chance that the poor fellow can win.”

Ali:             “And of course, after the fellow is gone crocodile tears are shed. Some go—‘Oh God! Why did he have to leave? Can’t he see that the project still needs him’? Others go—‘The project will never be sustainable if good fellows like him abandon ship’. Many more go—‘Ugh! This project is lousy. He left for greener pastures.’ Yet others go —‘Damn! All the qualified guys are filched from this project. We train the chaps. Just when they get ripe they are stolen by other organizations. It’s awful.’ Some simply say, ‘There goes another counterpart dude.’”

Hagos:       “Yes, but many are quietly frustrated that the chap had the good sense to leave before they could have a real go at him. Of course, the project plods on squandering more resources. New advisors come. New local guys are appointed to understudy them. Project monitoring and evaluation experts come and go. They recommend that the project should continue with minor changes here and there. They say the project is otherwise very successful in terms of institution building and effectiveness. They are impressed by the number of other organizations scrambling for chaps from the project. Would you like to be a counterpart?”

Ali:           “Yes, of course! I’d enjoy filthy rich projects scrambling for me. “

Hagos:    “I guess it’s not bad while it lasts. My friend, imagine the mountains of perks that come with the territory. You just have to make sure you jump before the ship sinks.”

Ali:         “That’s it. Get off the bus at the right place.”

With a very worried expression Hagos stares at the large circular “Coca-Cola” clock hanging on the green wall opposite the “no-smoking” sign. As he hurriedly removes his jacket from the chair’s back-rest, he mutters “Come you hopeless chatterbox, we already have missed the bus going to our office”. Both rush out without tipping Almaz the waitress or acknowledging their colleagues scattered around various tables in the now crowded cafeteria.  As our two friends make a hasty retreat, the music machine was still blaring Lilly Wood & The Prick’s recent hit “Prayer in C “

Chapter 2: Anthill Politics

MT Kidane

Speech is a common mode of communication. It is almost impossible to conceive of a human community in which speech is redundant. Yet when speech is a speech it runs the danger of being a longwinded presumption. Unlike conversation, a speech almost entirely excludes real possibilities for clarification, confirmation or even disapproval. It eliminates the exchange of ideas and mutual understanding. At its most treacherous it can be a bellowing silence obscuring a disturbing state of affairs. Observe the anthill politics and how ineffective they can be. Advisers may be well advised to try real participation. They are more likely to learn about the wisdom of their suggestions.

Mr. Jackson:   “We have examined your situation very closely. The research results reveal that there is a great danger of environmental degradation. Your agricultural practices and your indiscriminate cutting down of indigenous trees are the major causes of soil erosion. This district will be a desert before you know what is happening…”

While the advisor is talking a villager says to another:       

First Villager:   “What is he talking about? We have been practicing slash and burn agriculture for hundreds of years and no desert appeared! I don’t understand!”

Second Villager:   “He is right, you know. Those big companies which come here with monster machines to mow down our ancestral forests—you know NATE [New Africa Timber Enterprise] has done a great deal of damage in our own localities! It has left a vast wound on our lands which can never heal. Don’t forget that Tobal [Tobacco Production Alliance] has wasted the vegetation around Lake Mai. My cousin who is employed by the tobacco alliance farms cries that there isn’t a single tree left for birds to roost on. And the lake water is contaminated with tobacco chemicals. Among the Lake Mai community there is only anger and resentment—and rampant diseases afflicting the children and the old!”

First Villager:   “But that’s the point! Those are the white man’s idea. They will chop down and carry away all our useful trees and replace them with worthless things. That is why I am surprised that the mzungu  is pointing his dirty fingers at us blameless village dwellers. They will destroy our woodlands and leave us with nothing. I am sure of that. Just listen.

Second Villager:   Shhh! Let’s hear what he is going to say next!”

Mr. Jackson:   “…We have decided to assist you in ending environmental degradation. It is up to you to consider this issue and to decide that you need an environmental protection project…”

Another pair of villagers whispering to each other.       

Villager:  “They always say that it is up to us to decide! I know that line by heart! In reality they have already decided what they want to do here. This meeting is a farce! But wait! He might throw in a clinic complete with medicines; maybe a school with sufficient textbooks or something like that to sweeten his project!”

Another villager squatting nearby:  “Quiet!” (Waving menacingly his walking stick at the two offenders)

Village Headman:  “Quite you two!”

The advisor is aware of the murmurs and tries to raise his voice.

Mr. Jackson:  “…What is required mainly in such an environmental protection project is your participation. We will buy the tree seedlings for you. All you have to do is plant a few trees each and look after them caringly so that they grow…”

One village mother whispering to another.       

First village mother:  “He is mad! He is completely out of his mind! How can I spend my energy looking after trees when I hardly have time to care for my own children who are hungry and thirsty every day? Look, we don’t even have enough time and energy to grow more food!”

Second village mother:  “Yes, I am surprised at him. It would be better if all that money were used to grow food for the children or to buy cows so that the children can have milk. Spending it on trees… He should be ashamed of himself!”

First village mother:   “Hush, maybe he will throw in a water project to go with his forest! Village wells could relieve us of long daily treks to the river. Let’s wait and see! Wenz River and Lake Mai are contaminated thanks to the tobacco farms! Our children are sick and the old have started coughing blood.”

The advisor soldiers on with the speech.

Mr. Jackson:  “…We shall monitor the project. For that we shall provide vehicles for field workers. We shall also train them in forestry and how to help you care for the forests you are going to establish. We shall train village environmental committees throughout the district on how to organize the work and so on. This should…”

The accompanying field workers come alive and begin to whisper fervently.

First field worker:  “At last he has spoken properly! We really need vehicles for this kind of project work! They must be four-wheel-drive pickups— not those flimsy 125cc Suzuki motorcycles doled out to cooperative technicians in this district.

Second field worker:  “Yes. Let’s hope our supervisors in the capital city won’t take all the vehicles for themselves! We have to sustain this forest idea among the villagers. They may not like it very much! Do you know that land snatching under the guise of environmental projects drove many peasants into the anti-colonial struggle? It was because the projects channeled resources away from basic needs? We will have to argue very strongly. But without inspection vehicles the project will not get off the ground of course.”

First field worker:  “I have never read anywhere that anti-environmental project sentiments were one of the driving forces for the anti-colonial struggles. My grandfather mentioned it to me once. But I never took it seriously.”

Second field worker:  “You had better believe it. Labor, land and land use are sensitive issues among peasants. City guys like you who learn agricultural science in modern surroundings just don’t have the proper feeling for this. But let’s just listen! We can sort out that problem when the time comes.”

By this time the advisor is already concluding his speech.

Mr. Jackson:  “…Thank you very much for paying attention. I will be glad to answer a few questions although time is running out. Are there any questions?”

Villagers clap their hands. The Village Headman raises his hands indicating that he wishes to say a few words.

Village Headman:  “We have heard with great gratitude…”

Immediately one villager starts whispering to another, pointing shamelessly at the Village Headman.

Villager:  “Gratitude, my mother-in-law’s whiskers! Look at how his goatee is moving as he talks! There is nothing in it for him. Nothing for us! Nothing for the women! Nothing for the youth! But plenty for the trees! There is no God in these projects! Why do they even bother to hold these anthill meetings? They could have just sent out a directive instead of wasting our time!”

The other villager:  “It was at least funny to see a mzungu perched on an anthill trying to make a speech. Now we have to endure the indignity of our Headman standing on the same spot trying to save face!”

Headman:  “…This project promises to be a great success. It will all be thanks to the selfless help we are going to receive from your country! My fellow villagers join me in saying thank you very much Sir! Asante! Asante Sana! ”

All the villagers clap their hands shouting—“Asante! Asante! Applauding profusely does not cost a villager a single shilling; it is booing and jeering, they know, that is cost some!!

Field worker:   “Are there any questions on what Mr. Jackson said?”

Villager raising a hand:  “Could I hitch a lift?! My home lies somewhere along your way back to town! I hope you are returning that way!”

Other Villagers:  “Yes we could all do with a lift. We don’t want to tire ourselves out walking tens of kilometers in this sweltering heat. There is plenty of work waiting for us in the fields!”

Field Worker:  “Ladies and gentlemen! Are there any questions on what the advisor said?! Mr. Jackson is in too much of a hurry to be your bus driver. So forget the lift! Do you have any questions on what he said?”

One villager whispering to another:  “Hey! Have you ever seen an expatriate or his minnows giving a lift to a villager?  We smell too much! What with all the sweat and the cattle odor that stays on our clothing! You know how to deal with these situations!  Give a vote of thanks. Can’t you see there is nothing to question about?!  They came here to tell us what they intend to do. He has said it and now they must go. You know very well that they have already made up their minds and signed and sealed their agreements in the capital city. Anything we say here will just be a waste of time. Let them return to their comfortable offices! I have to weed my cassava field before the day is over! Give your vote of thanks and let’s go to our homesteads and do more useful things.

The other villager:  “The maize cobs have dried on my plot and I…”

The first one:  “Just do it! I said give the vote of thanks! They will not go away if no one says a few more words of gratitude. You know how they are. Just do it!”

The other villager (stands up confidently and waits until the assembly is silent):  “I am pleased to note that Mr. Jack On spoke very clearly and to the point. He is a very wise man! All we can do now is express our heartfelt appreciation at this outstanding visit. We are particularly pleased that we have been selected out of many needy communities throughout this district for this worthy project. We are looking forward to its launching with great anticipation. Right now, however, and as we have already heard, our honored guest is anxious to get back. Though we are distressed in saying farewell we shall not delay him any further. We wish him and everyone in his company a very safe journey. Let us all join in saying thank you very much. This is yet another promising project that has been offered to this long suffering community. It will bring us great deal of benefits! Asante! Asante sana!!”

Villagers:  Clap! Clap! Clap!

Mr. Jackson (as the District Development Officer and the sidekick project officers stroll to the waiting forest-green Range Rover and take their seats in the air-conditioned vehicle) “It is electrifying how positively this project has been accepted! This is amazing!”

DDO:  “It is indeed. Our people know how to cherish a gift for its own sake. It is the report writing which is most difficult. One never knows how to gauge the approval rates.”

Mr. Jackson:   “Don’t worry about that. I shall write the report when I get back to my home country office. I will send you a copy by DHL and you can circulate it. I will recommend that the project starts as soon as possible. We have to take advantage of the initial enthusiasm. Funding won’t be a problem. Environment project receive a lot of support back home.”

As the SUV gathers speed and kicks dust it scatters chickens, goats and squealing piglets while raucous kids and barking dogs interrupt their activity and chase the car. After the dust settles, the mongrel dogs resume their long-interrupted siesta under the mango tree—their noses twitching whenever an irritant mango fly lands on their moist nostrils.

 

Chapter 1

The Expatriate Advisor

by MT Kidane

Office parties can be good situations in which expatriates and nationals can palaver. Relationships can be explored and steered into a better state. Relevant information that is not available in personnel files or other project documents can be gained to improve project management. Parties are also swell places where office rumors, hints and allegations can be ventilated and sorted out.Inhibitions are set free and taboos unchained. However, parties can also be abused. This peril prevails whenever intoxicated people attempt to explore serious themes which require dexterity in conversation.

Victor meets the Swedish Advisor Bert at the crowded bar when he went for a refill. Victor and Bert work in the planning and evaluation unit of the Westshore Wildlife Sanctuary program, popularly called Wild S by the staff working there. The wildlife sanctuary program has succeeded in attracting rich tourists with wallets full of hard currency and rendered the indigenous population landless with the lucky few among them earning meager salaries as guides or waiters or maids or safari camp cooks. The Sanctuary is notorious for doling out only menial jobs to the local youth.

Wild S is mainly financed by the Nordic countries. Village elders murmur that impalas and wild hogs have taken over their homesteads while they have been sidelined. The Nordic donor agencies and the Treasury (Ministry of Finance) trumpet Wild S as a resounding success, generating “sustainable” ecosystem and earning the government much sought foreign currency.

The following is a version of a rather typical conversation between aid “givers” and “takers” revealing deep-seated animosities which constantly stand in the way of progress.

 Bert: “Ever since I gave a deep freezer to the general manager many locals have come to ask me for something. I can’t stand it anymore! What do you think I should do about it?”

Victor: “You could have sold it to him. Now they all believe you are charitable.”

Bert: “But I didn’t mean to establish a charitable organization. I can’t give to everyone.”

Victor: “There are many poor people around here whose life is very hard. No one will understand that you give to the rich and deny the poor.”

Bert: “Poverty doesn’t come into it. It’s just a plain lack of decency. I smell some kind of corruption!”

Victor: “If that’s the way you feel, why don’t you take back your freezer?”

Bert: “I can’t do that! It’s not right to take back what I have already given!”

Victor: “Very well! Then don’t complain. By the way how are you enjoying the party? Let us move away from this busy waterhole. I can hardly hear you!”

Bert: “Okay, but I keep on wondering why you people are so corrupt. I think that’s why you are so underdeveloped!”

Victor: “Really! Don’t forget that it was your imperialism which impoverished and corrupted us in the first place. Your European forefathers came to my county uninvited and overstayed their ‘social call’. You have left us with the nearly impossible task of cleaning up.The normalization of our society requires a lot more than what you call development. In any case, it is very unrealistic to expect the effects of centuries of imperial oppression and exploitation to be whipped out in a matter of four or five decades. Don’t forget the colonial master still holds huge sway over our fate. There is no panacea for the debilitating mindset you inoculated us with. Alas our resolve to lift ourselves from destitution evaporated like the morning dew on the very eve of our Independence Day. I know there is no quick fix for our problems. Nevertheless, Mr. Bert there is very little correlation between corruption and development. The vast majority of people here are not corrupt.”

Bert: “You have had plenty of time and help to recover. But you are so corrupt that you are not doing anything to change. I have seen things like this in many poor countries. If you want anything to be done and done quickly you have to bribe someone. It always works that way. Without bribery nothing moves on its own in your kind of country!”

Victor: “You do see plenty of money flying around, don’t you? Most of us local people are not rich like you. We can’t afford corruption. We merely suffer under it. We don’t even get any of the services to which we are entitled by law just because rich people bribe officials to do something else. We can’t compete against your handsome bribes, can we?”

Bert: “Are you saying that Expat Advisors are corrupt?!”

Victor: “I am merely saying that if you want to know more about the kind of corruption you are talking about you should search in the right places — not among the underprivileged who are the vast majority.”

Bert: “You people are all the same. It doesn’t matter if you are rich, poor, educated or what not!”

Victor: “Why do you expatriates always make the mistake of thinking we are all like this or like that?!”

Bert: “But of course, you are! You are never serious. You are all lazy and incompetent. You are all fun and no work! None of you does anything sensible! You are a wholly corrupt lot — a real embarrassment to humanity!”

Victor: “Oh dear! I wonder… Perhaps you will tell me why it is so difficult for you to recognize that there are many different types of people here. We are not just a uniformly gray mob even if you prefer to see us like cattle in the marketplace. We belong to different social classes, different ethnic groups, different sub-cultures, morality, and work ethics and so on. Some of us are corrupt, but a great majority are certainly not. Corruption is, in fact, mainly a rich man’s disease which spreads downwards as pressure is applied not so gently until it reaches epidemic proportions. You just can’t label everyone as corrupt.”

Bert: “Why not? Take our boss, for instance. He is corrupt to the bone! He is also completely incompetent and unreliable! Yet managers ought to be exemplary.”

Victor: “Are you saying that because he does not do as you say after you gave him a freezer? What are you driving at?”

Bert: “I gave him the deep freezer just to show him that I mean to be pleasant and accommodating. It was not corruption! But he remains aloof and unfriendly. I thought you people are supposed to be very sociable and even happy-go-lucky all the time.”

Victor: “It seems to me that you have simply failed to win him over to your way of thinking?”

Bert: “What do you mean? I can see that he is on good terms with the other expat advisors. They are not much better at communicating. He just wants a bigger bribe from me! That’s all! But he won’t get any! I think I will just recommend that if he is not removed we should pull out our aid!”

Victor: “This is exactly what I meant about corruption being the disease of the rich and powerful. When you wealthy people fail to convince someone about something the first thing that comes to your mind is a larger bribe or a threat — the stick or carrot to the stupid donkey kind of logic! Eh?.”

Bert: “The Big Boss, or Bwana Mukuba as you natives prefer to call him, is rotten to the bottom! Philosophizing won’t change a thing! How can you support corruption like that?!”

Victor: “I don’t support corruption! As a matter of fact, if he is that corrupt, what does that make you?! After attempting to bribe him you just can’t turn around and say he is corrupt!”

Bert: “Oh shut up! You are just as corrupt as every other native!” [Bert ‘s gin-tonic tall glass is now empty save for a lonely lime wedge hopping in rhythm to his swaying left arm.]

Victor: “I… I think we should just enjoy the party instead of talking about these awful things. We could discuss something less sensitive. At this rate we might say things that we may soon regret.”

Bert: “Forget it! I can’t discuss anything sensible with you. Why don’t you understand that things cannot run in this country without someone’s hand being smeared? You tell me that!”

Victor: “Look, you and I know that corruption is bad. You advisors came here to give good solid advice. At least, that is what everyone says. I am shocked to find that you are at the forefront of bribery.”

Bert: “How dare you say that?! We sacrifice ourselves for you and all you can say is that we are corrupt! Cow shit!”

Victor: “The point I am making is that you show no inclination to resist corruption. Instead, you carefully select the individuals whom you bribe. It has become such that now only a few will deal with you without expecting a bribe. Bribery is a routine you have established. You can’t turn around and say we are corrupt. You are the ones who wave the thickest wads of corrupt dollars under poor people’s noses. If you stop doing that there will be less corruption around! Even the waiters at this hotel expect tips in hard currency! And cow shit has a name — dung!!”

Bert: “My Oh My! I must have known! You are just as bad as the rest. What happened to your European education? Natives will remain natives forever! You make me sick!”

Victor: “I know. Even without corruption I’d make you sick. You don’t ever see anything good in anyone else except yourself. You are the one who is sick!”

Bert: “Shit!” [Bert marches away to join a group of expats males rudely jostling each other for the privilege to dance with the Finnish ambassador’s attractive new secretary. Marika’s sweat-drenched attire attests to overexertion from the marathon dancing orgy. In the distance the Kalipindi band is playing their rendition of Dire Strait’s ‘Walk of Life’. View/hear the original ]

Grace joins Victor looking anxiously curious. Grace is a local employee heading the tiny gender issues unit in Wild S.

Grace: “Vic, what have you done to Mr. Beerbelly? He was pouting like a cat which was forced to drink spoilt milk!”

Victor: “Nothing! He was accusing us of being corrupt.”

Grace: “What?! We corrupt?!”

Victor: “Yes! Just imagine!”

Grace: “What did you tell the mzungu, I mean the white man?”

Victor: “What do you think? I told him to back off. He should look elsewhere for corruption. Not among us poor guys with nothing to give and no power to extort.”

Grace: “Yeah, that’s what that bastard should do! He should go to hell!”

Victor: “Forget him! He’s drunk. He is just a simple minded nobody. How are you enjoying the party, by the way?”

Grace: “Just fine. I suppose you…”

Victor: “But for that guy I was planning on having a good time tonight.”

Grace: “Simple minded fellow, eh?!”

Victor: “A nut.”

Grace: “How come?”

Victor: “Very simple. He is not aware of all those scandals in high places in his own country. Everyday tycoons and politicians get caught red-handed in murky deals, frauds and what have you. Legislators of various calibers and persuasions are tainted daily and Beerbelly Bert does not see it. But he sees it very easily when it comes to us.”

Grace: “No. Why? Unlike you, I don’t know these people well enough. I have never been abroad. But I must admit that there is more than enough corruption around here. Can’t blame a fellow for noticing. Can you? Tell me, these days who can afford to buy cooking oil, sugar, wheat flour or even toilet paper — forget the milk for the babies — at black market prices? One has to queue for endless hours at the Fair Price Shop set up by the government and run by corrupt civil servants. In my family we take turns being “sick” and not reporting to work or school so that we can queue at our FPS for hours to purchase our weekly ration — a kilo of rice or pasta, on liter cooking oil, two loaves of bread and of course 200 grams of coffee beans. Toilet paper is a rarity…”

Victor: “Please spare me the details! Grace, I beseech you — please let me relish Bert’s world for a few hours more!”

Grace: “Vic, Bert lives in another planet. Definitely not in this country! Every weekend when he drives to the capital city Beerbelly buys fresh Italian salami, French cheese, noodles and T-bone steak and chicken fillet and what have you at the Dollar Only Shop. Even his car never goes thirsty because there is plenty of petrol in the market when you use forex!”

Victor: “Grace, please stop taunting me. I am secretly envious of his maid and garden boy who can indulge in the bounties offered by Bert’s blessed XXL fridge! I know his brand-new silver Toyota Land Cruiser whines like a wild stallion ready to charge when he presses the ignition key. My ancient hand-me-down VW is an embarrassment to the automobile fraternity.”

Grace: ” You shall not covet thy neighbor’s house; you shall not covet thy neighbor’s wife, or his man servant or maid servant, his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor says Exodus if you know your Ten Commandments and moreover…”

Victor: “That’s not the point. He was making out as if he was all clean and we are terribly filthy! In his own country journalists often unveil heaps of corruption! It’s either the fellow never pays attention to news or he is a stupid hypocrite. Either way, he is just bunkum!”

Grace: “That doesn’t explain why he is so ready to see corruption amongst us. It seems to me that he is merely glad to ignore it in his own country. Perhaps he is just a rude type.”

Victor: “Simple and rude! That’s what he is in his country. But as an advisor in our country he is Mr. Big Stuff! Like many muzungu advisors he believes he is a walking ATM! He has suddenly been catapulted into the unfamiliar circles of power and gets to rub shoulders with our homegrown power mongers and new-rich elites as they make rotten deals. After inhaling that intoxicating stuff who can blame Bert for seeing corruption at every turn and twist! Beerbelly doesn’t realize it but he playing with black mambas!”

Grace: “Stop being a scaremonger yourself! What is this nonsense talk about snakes and the black mamba? I always thought their rudeness was due to their tactless culture! I never thought it might be the crudity of nonentities!”

Victor: “All raw people are rough and rude! Leadership is just thrust upon a great many of these advisors when they come here. They suddenly find that they have to lead the way through thickets notwithstanding the level of their aptitude. It can’t be very easy for them to lead us around not knowing our culture and all…can it?”

Grace: “It surely can’t!”

Victor: “That’s why I don’t pay much attention to their ranting! I hate it when Mr. Beerbelly Bert calls me native”

Grace: “But once in a while I have come across fellows who are very okay. They managed to achieve a lot — good leadership, motivation and what have you! In fact, I got to know them quite well.”

Victor: “That’s only once in a while — and far in-between. A bum like that one who just marched off is more representative of the majority. Quite decayed and racist at the bottom of his heartlessness! I see Beerbelly like dental caries, gone bad by too much of the sweet lifestyle.”

Grace: “I think we had better get out of here! This place…Ugh! The wine…It’s not doing me any good. Must be cheap or something!”

Victor: “You are right! There is a despicable syndrome in the air. Let’s shunt! Maybe you will allow me to corrupt you just a little tonight?!”

Grace: “Well, well, why not if you are a good-natured bodyguard! Who says we cannot have a good time together outside this party! If you promise to be respectful and caring, I vow to offer my sweet surrender! Come follow me my handsome native hero!”

As Grace and Victor exit the Intercontinental Hotel, the house band plays Miriam Makeba’s ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’  View/Hear original. Victor is holding Grace’s arm teasingly as he swings his hips to the tune of the song he loves. As the happy couple walk down Bishop Hill Road, they wake a couple of homeless children from their deep slumber. When the clatter recedes the two kids adjust their tattered blanket and resume their sleep. Not much later, the night heavens open suddenly and pebble-size raindrops start pounding the bone-dry sidewalk raising mini dust storms on impact. Leonard and Philip hurriedly collect their cardboard bedding and rush to the nearest shelter — a nearby culvert. Their mongrel dog, who answers to the name Nomad, leads the way.

I would like to dedicate this AHN Page (On a Day Like Today) to the memory of Ndimanye R Lwenje who started the journey with me but never managed to reach the finish line because cancer claimed him in 1994. Death be not proud. (MTK)