Community dynamics

One of the biggest challenges in development is figuring out who is who, who does what, and what people want. Of course, many donor agencies have approached this by, well, spreading word that these are not problem areas at all - that there is no need to bridge these information gaps, and that responding to the calls of anthropologists and other social scientists to study the dynamics of rural communities is not a priority. Instead, donors have spent millions of dollars to impress upon an ignorant public that everyone in Africa aspires to be a farmer, or that everyone living in coastal India wants to be a fisherman. Is it correct to assume that every man, woman and child in a particular village, be it in Africa, Latin America, Asia, or even Europe and North America, wants the same thing in life?

Why is this happening? The cynical assessment would be to argue that development is an industry, the biggest in the world. But let us assume that practioners are committed to making a difference: to alleviating poverty and assisting impoverished people. Does it not make sense to determine what people want beforehand - that prior to spending millions of dollars on, inter alia, equipment, boreholes, and infrastructure, communities are sensitized or better yet, that interventions have the endorsement of their inhabitants?

It seems so simple, but repeated neglect of the importance of participatory approaches leaves one with the impression that those driving development do not want change. I am sure that many of my colleagues sympathize with my views, and understand why I am so frustrated with what is happening in so many mining communities in the developing world.

re: Development?

Development is a Western construct. We all know this. It is us in the West who ulitimately decide what development trajectory a particular country or group of people should follow: the donor people, the governments, consultants and yes, advising academics. But given the significant disconnection between policy and reality - a gap that those driving the development project have little intention of bridging anytime soon - how can these actors possibly know what is 'best' for poor groups?

Let us look at development more pragmatically, in a more basic sense. It is the act of improving or expanding or enlarging or refining or more simply, improving quality of life. The billions of dollars earmarked for doing this well, have failed to do so. These monies, after all, have gone toward privatizing parastatals, overhauling taxation regimes, keeping corrupt leaders in power, liberalizing trade markets, and removing subsidies on farm inputs - changes made in the name of development but which have rather made life even more difficult for poor people in Asia, Africa, the Caribbean and Latin America. So how, in light of increased hardship, do people go about improving their quality of life? More specifically, how do these people escape hardship and develop?

A recent story told to me by a Ghanaian colleague sheds light on how. He always buys his newspapers at a particular "stall" in Accra. Four family members and friends manned this particular stall at one point. But after some time, there were only three. "Where is the young lady?" asked my colleague one Tuesday morning. Her brother replied: "She has left. We all financed her travel." After some time, my colleague noticed there were only two of the original four manning the stall, and so he asked the same question. "He has joined the lady," replied her brother. "We saved and saved and financed his travel and secured his documents." And, sure enough, after some time, the brother was also nowhere to be seen. "He has left as well," the middle-aged woman explained, the only one remaining of the original four. "I soon will be joining them in Cleveland, Ohio."

Westerners have overseen the implementation of comprehensive policies and programs in the name of development. But many residents of the developing countries being exploited have responded by launching their own, equally-comprehensive, development programs...

The Power of Hope

Three years ago, I was speaking to some miners in the Ghanaian town of Prestea.

How to describe Prestea? A dilapidated village-turned-town with two paved roads, countless run-down houses, deteriorating infrastructure, and a collection of taxis servicing, well, no one. One miner - we'll call him 'Kofi' - explained that he owed some gold buyers some money. 'I borrowed money to buy a water pump,' he explained, 'to drain the pit so I can get the gold. But the pump broke and now I am not getting the gold. The water has to be hauled up by buckets and that is time. But i owe so much for this pump still.'

Shortly after hearing this depressing story, I got up to catch a shared taxi to Tarkwa, where I would connect to Accra. But before I left, Kofi asked me for my card. 'Please,' he explained. 'I beg. In case I need some investment.'

I explained that I was not an investor, but it did not seem to diminish his enthusiasm. He walked away cheerfully.

'That is Kofi's meal-ticket,' my colleague, Quarm, also a Prestean, explained.

'But I can't give him any money,' I responded. 'Nor will I ever be able to help him with equipment.'

'It does not matter. In fact, he will always carry that around, with the hope that by calling you, he can get some good fortune - whether it is money, guidance, or confidence...In fact, it is the power of hope. It does wonders for us Ghanaians. You know if he calls you, then it is problems he has. Because it is his last trump card. He stumbles into his pocket to get your card, hoping that he convinces the buyer he owes money to that you are his investor - that you are sending him money at the end of the week. If the buyer is not convinced, he will sometimes take the card and look you up on the internet. And if he is still not convinced, he will get him - Kofi - to call you on the spot and listen to the conversation. This could be the difference between eating this week and starving tomorrow: it is a fine line. If he convinces, he and his family get one more week maybe one more month to get the buyer his monies. So they eat. If not, the buyer takes his house and he and the family are homeless.'

Two days ago, at 2:30 in the morning - more than three years after having that conversation - I received a call from a man named Kofi. He insisted that we were 'good friends' and asked when I was coming to Ghana next to 'discuss business plans'. He spent about five minutes trying to refresh my memory on how we met and about our 'agreement'. I must have sounded convincing: he sounded very pleased by the end of the conversation, which, judging by the reception, was on speaker-phone the whole time.

In all likelihood, Kofi and his family will be able to eat this week.