A New Landscape
International development has always been intriguing to me. While working at a hedge fund, instead of coming home and reading books about the financial industry, I found myself diving into books such as Jefferey Sachs’ “The End of Poverty” and Dambisa Moyo’s “Dead Aid.” I thought there had to be an answer, and an easy one at that. With all of the money and resources in our world today, how is it possible that global minds can’t come together and solve the problem of poverty? My short time in this field has already taught me that there indeed is no magic formula, and the landscape of international development is extremely complex, confusing and challenging. Which is why I love it.
As part of the Global Advocate Fellowship Program, Mama Hope provides 4 months of training on various topics surrounding international development. One session was even focused on the term international development, and how much misconception the words themselves infer. A reoccurring theme in our training was the importance of context, and how essential understanding the context in which we are working is to effectively make progress and work with our partners efficiently and respectfully. This is why Mama Hope operates on the Human-Centered Development model, where the first step is to listen to the community. After-all it is the community that knows the community best. I have been repeatedly humbled during my time in Mlali, as I throw my Western pre-conceived notions out of the window of the speeding mini-bus piled with double the amount of people I thought it could hold… because why wouldn’t we use every inch possible on the bus to provide transport to the most people, and make the most profit?
The current population of Tanzania is approximately 58 million and is home to around 123 tribes. Each tribe speaks their indigenous language along with Kiswahili, and come from various cultural histories and areas within the country. Africa’s borders were created arbitrarily at the Berlin Conference in 1885, with no input from the African people themselves. The result was unnatural borders dividing people of the same tribe and also bringing together many different tribes into the same territory. So in reality, within each African country lies a rich and distinct cultural heritage in itself.
One of the teachers at QEA provided “Tanzanian Educational Reform,” for me to read. It is a collaboration by the government of Tanzania and various communities in response to an underwhelming educational system addressing various areas of improvement and ideas to move forward. It stressed the importance of understanding cultural norms of each community and that the solution rests, at least partially, in listening. First and foremost, it mentioned the importance of context and noting cultural differences within Tanzania! Think of all 123 tribes, and the differences in locations and challenges that come with them. For example, the families bordering Serengeti National Park, who fear sending their little ones to school because they fear lions will attack the children on the long walk to school. People from outside the community had initially thought the families were indifferent to education, but in reality, there was a more immediate issue to deal with. How much more we cannot take our cultural context and apply it to Tanzania (or Africa as a whole) and in turn a specific community.
Building on the importance of context, another theme in our training on international development was “Asset Based Community Development.” When I first heard the term, I reeled at how brilliant it was to focus on a community’s assets, rather than their needs. After all, building on a communities existing assets, rather than bringing in foreign ideas and systems, sounds like an obvious step towards sustainability. As such, I’ve spent a lot of time recording what the locals feel are Mlali’s greatest assets in addition to my own thoughts. A reoccuring pattern I am realizing is how each asset is used efficiently and for the greater good.
Water is one of Mlali’s greatest assets. Sourced from the mountain and stored in water tanks, the water is delivered directly to the people and provides clean water that is easily accessible. Many people in Tanzania (and Africa as a whole) are forced to spend many hours each day fetching water, which is often unclean. The people of Mlali do not see the lack of running water into a white porcelain sinks as a need, they see the availability of water as an asset. As do neighboring villages, coming and going daily to utilize the water source. They also greatly respect the asset, and only use what they need. I have learned to bathe with 1 gallon of water as opposed to the average 17.2 gallons used on a shower in America. With scarcity, respect is borne.
Another asset is community. At home, community is most visible when we plan for it and set time aside from our busy schedules to come together. Special events such as birthdays, holidays, events such as the MN State Fair or National Night Out are when community is felt most powerfully (at least in my opinion). In Mlali, every night is National Night Out — it’s a constant community, in the form it was intended. Healthy, relational and open. It starts as the sunrises and the farmer next door starts up the tractor to start the days work, and ends with music blasting from the church next door that seems to have a service all day every day… and sometimes well into the wee hours of the night. People are always outside, and there is always a new visitor coming and going to talk to Bibi or Babu, or to sit and chat under the tree. You can’t escape it, and I don’t know why you would want to. They live together, work together to care for the home and their children and share resources. After living here for over a month and talking to locals it appears to be a community of selflessness, respect and trust.
I have grown to love the constant life in the community. It inspires a feeling that you are part of something more, and are interconnected with other lives creating a functioning community based on the good of one another. I love the sounds of Mlali. I love waking up to the roosters and music, and hearing the children laugh and play all day. I hope my husband will be okay with our having a rooster running around the yard and waking us up every day when I am back in the U.S.…
I have only scratched the surface of understanding the context in which I am living and working. What I have learned, loud and clear, is implementing a project in a community requires partnership with the local community but most of all leadership from the locals. In a system more complex than I can begin to comprehend, we must rely on the knowledge and wisdom of the experts — the people living and creating the context itself. I feel now, more than ever, that global communities have much to learn from one another. The community of Mlali is eager to hear my opinions on various things and learn about life back state-side, and I am eager to hear theirs. I am bringing home far more wisdom gained from meetings with the QEA team, mornings with Bibi and afternoons with my little buddy Stan, than I am leaving the people of Mlali.
This thought process has got me thinking about our assets back at home too. Are we building on these assets for the greater good of the people, with future generations in mind? Or are we using these assets towards less-honorable ends? What are some of our needs? Are we conscious of these needs, and have ideas on how to resolve them? What caused the need? My mind nowadays is constantly working through what I’m experiencing, trying to digest the lessons I am learning. So much so, that I have run through 5 pens jotting down my thoughts. It’s refreshing, and I welcome the challenge to continue learning and understand.
