When the levee breaks
By Amrik Rana
11 June 2015
As I write this post I’m back at my hostel; the fan might still be spinning but the internet is down and it won’t be back up for at least three and a half hours. This is the sort of thing that would drive me insane back home but I’m learning that if I am to call Accra my home for the next few weeks it is something I’ll have to get used to. So while I could spend the rest of the day moping about how I won’t be up-to-date with Youtube celebrities and the latest on Reddit I have decided to be somewhat productive and carry on blogging.
Before I go into detail about what we have been doing today I have to bring up something regarding my colleague Axel. Since our arrival he seems to have developed an almost cult like following among a few locals who are so impressed by how well he talks they feel compelled to stop whatever conversation we were having just to tell us. It could just be jealousy talking (and it is) but I really hope he doesn’t go the way of Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now.
Our first stop this morning was Agbogbloshie police station, a building which had been electrified on a previous visit by TASC members. It was here that we would be meeting Abdallah Alhassan, a local graduate setting up a youth centre within the slum through his NGO, the Youth and Children Foundation. Given the recent flooding, we decided to check up on our panel whilst at the station. An important part of being a social energy provider is ensuring that the people to whom we give free solar know that we expect them to use it to benefit the community, not merely to have a dusty unused solar panel on the roof. Axel was immediately recognised from his last visit and the local police chief was keen to tell us about the benefits he had seen since the introduction of the panel especially given the prevalence of Dumsor. While the panels had not been damaged several police officers told us about the damaging effect of the flooding, with water reaching knee-height. As we were touring the police station we saw mounds of paperwork trying to be salvaged by the officers, who were trying to dry them using the bountiful and everlasting resource that is the African sun.
After a short while Abdallah turned up. He took us to the youth centre that he is planning to open after the success of a recent crowdfunding campaign. He currently teaches twenty-four children there, but hopes that by expanding the centre he can increase his classes and reach a wider group of young people. Unfortunately progress has been put on hold — this was another building ravaged by flooding. He didn’t seem nearly as surprised as I was but flooding is essentially an annual occurrence in Accra. What seemed even harder to believe was that almost nothing was being done to prevent it. Last year, hospitals were overrun with Cholera patients with thousands diagnosed in a matter of days, with five new cases confirmed as a result of the most recent flooding you have to question why this is being accepted by as the status quo.
A business administration graduate himself Abdallah expressed an interest in postgraduate study with a focus on human rights law. He said he felt his undergraduate degree did not equip him with enough skills to serve his community. He already has twenty-four children from within the slum that he teaches, and hopes that with this new location he can go on to impact even more young lives within the area. Opening their minds to a world of different subjects from photography to human rights. Having grown up in the slum, and having put himself through university while living in the slum, Abdallah understands the struggles young people face not just accessing education but to even find a building for study. This is an acute problem in an environment in which approximately 75% of children do not go to school at all; families need an income, and children can work in the nearby e-waste industry to earn money for the family. In comparison, there is no free public education — the government refuses to build schools in the slum — and the available education is too expensive for a lot of people. Compounding lack of access are regular power cuts that make studying in the evening extremely difficult.
Which is why, when finished, his centre will open from 7:30am — 9:30pm and even later for university students, with soundproof windows that he has installed to ensure anyone who comes to him is not disturbed. When discussing plans for the future with him it was difficult not to get sucked into his unrelenting passion for these young people and how he can help them. Looking beyond just getting the building up and running he has plans for a playground and intent on setting up presentations on child labour with local Kayaye children (a term for porters who carry the goods they sell on their heads). These children do not attend any form of education and often work in dangerous conditions within Agbogbloshie, something Abdallah sees as unacceptable and a key mission of his organisation is to introduce these children to the value of education.
The Ghana Child Labour Survey undertaken by the Ghana Statistical Service showed nearly 20% of children (about 1.27 million) were engaged in activities classified as child labour; in an urban slum environment this percentage rises unbelievably. During our visit to the proposed centre Axel, Fatawu and I measured the building so that, if possible, we could donate solar panels to Abdallah. His passion and completely selfless nature had a profound effect on all three of us and I know I speak for Axel and myself when I say that knowing we had a hand in helping his dream become a reality would be an incredible achievement.
Through the magic of perspective it probably seems as though I wrote this in the same amount of time it took you to read it. In fact I’ve been writing this for so long the internet should be back any minute now. In that time I’ve also learnt some more about my fellow traveller: Axel may have the charisma required to start a cult (and who knows he might before the trip is out) he also shares my love for all things Frank Ocean and pondering over the cause of our thousands of weird little (hopefully insect) bites; I think we will get on just fine.
Until next time
- Amrik
