i think it’s rubbing off on me. what he says in “Dark Star Safari” matches up perfectly with the frustration i’m feeling at what i see…

I had begun to cotton to the view set out in the antidonor books, “The Lords of Poverty” and “The Road to Hell”, that foreign aid has been destructive to Africa — has actually caused harm. Another vocal advocate of this theory was an African economist, George B. N. Ayittey, who in two books, “Africa Betrayed” and “Africa in Chaos”, documented the decline in African fortunes as a result of donor aid.
It is for someone else, not me, to evaluate the success or failure of charitable efforts in Africa. Offhand, I would say the whole push has been misguided, because it has gone on too long with negligible results.

misguided. there are a slew of Zambian medical students at the clinic we volunteer with. it seems “misguided” that i am here when they could/should be doing what i’m doing. it is their country and they will be the ones who stay behind to carry on the work. i feel in the way. i feel like every time i help with even the smallest task, i’m taking away something (an experience, an education) that doesn’t belong to me. that word “taking” is so imposing here. even “taking a photo” feels like stealing.

… in a culture where foreigners constantly showed up, offering themselves and their time and even material help, charity was nothing special — in fact, in Malawi it was another necessary routine, not philanthropic but a permanent drip feed, part of a system of handouts.

this paragraph perfectly outlines my personal reception at the Maramba clinic. nurses and clinical officers* treat us with respect. usually. we are nothing special. instead, the Zambians acknowledge us in ways that Westerners can’t really see: our selfish motives for being here are laid bare. and i am embarrassed.

this is the reason (above and beyond being away from the comforts of home) that i ask myself what the hell i am doing here.

i was thanked for my work for the very first time today. a traditional birthing agent (TBA) thanked me for my time and called God’s blessing on me for being here to help. receiving gratitude is definitely not the reason i’m here, but i was surprised what a difference it made to hear it. acknowledgment went a long way in making me actually feel welcome.

I began to understand the futility of charity in Africa. It was generally fueled by the best of motives, but its worst aspect was that it was noninspirational. Aliens had been helping for so long and were so deeply entrenched that Africans lost interest — if indeed they had every had it — in doing the same sort of work themselves. Not only was there no spirit of volunteerism, there was no desire to replace aid workers with paying jobs. Yet many Africans were unemployed, doing nothing but sitting under trees.

i like quoting Theroux so extensively because it is helping me to realize that i’m not the only one thinking this way. the first few days here, i felt like i was going crazy! how can Bono be misguided? how can our Western portrayals of all the “good” our aid organizations are doing in Africa be so very wrong?

when i am sad for Africa, i am sad that there is such a high rate of unemployment when (currently, volunteer) positions exist and should be paid positions for locals to work and contribute. when i am sad for Africa, i am sad that governments do not fund their hospitals or schools because they know money will come from foreign sources. when i am sad for Africa, i am sad that corruption and fraud prevents church donations (or billions of donor aid) from getting to the intended target and end up padding political pockets.

I sketched out my theory that some governments in Africa depended on underdevelopment to survive — bad schools, poor communications, a feeble press, and ragged people. The leaders needed poverty to obtain foreign aid, needed an uneducated and passive populace to keep themselves in office for decades. A great education system in an open society would produce rivals, competitors, and an effective opposition to people who wanted only to cling to power. It was heresy to say such things here, but this was how it seemed to me.

is my cynicism depressing anyone else yet? all of the people that commended me for participating in such a “selfless” and “worthy” project are likely shaking their head. i’ve turned into a pessimist that doesn’t believe in the productivity or helpfulness** of her actions. and i haven’t even been here a week.

my pessimism runs so deep, i have refused to work on any of the non-medical aid projects organized by African Impact. i am not going to hoe a field when there are plenty of people here able to do it themselves, if they deem it necessary.

… if they deem it necessary. i guess that’s really the key. if it was necessary, they would probably already have the field hoed and planted. if it’s not necessary, why are foreign aid workers doing it? just because we have done it in the past? last night one of the girls here was telling me that Some Guy asked them to build a farm for him. they were like “um, who are you?”

i can’t help but shake my head when i re-read what i’ve written in this post. i am one of the most empathetic and hard-working people i know. these words coming from my keyboard feel so heretic and contrary to the way i think i feel.

more Paul then. because it’s easier when it comes from someone else’s pen…

Perhaps reading my thoughts, Anne said, “I have my doubts sometimes I say to my mother ‘What if we just upped and left? All of us. Every last one.’”
“What do you think would happen?”
“Then the people here would have to think for themselves. They’d have to decide what’s best for them — what they want. No one would influence them. Maybe they would say they wanted education — and they’d have to do the teaching. They’d have to do what we’re doing.”
“For your measly salary.”
“Right,” she said. “Or maybe they’d decide that they wouldn’t want a change. They might allow things to stay as they are. Lots of the people in villages are fine. They’re not miserable.”

maybe our well-intentioned help is actually unwelcome and everyone is just too polite to say anything. why are we so arrogant to assume Africans want (need) the same things we do?

one last quote from Thoreau (not Theroux):

Be sure you give the poor the aid they most need. There are a thousand hacking at the branches of evil to one who is striking at the root, and it may be that he who bestows the largest amount of time and money on the needy is doing the most by his mode of life to produce that misery which he strives in vain to relieve.

~ “Walden”

i’m certain Maramba clinic is just a branch of the tree… but i’m trying not to sound negative (which mostly involves keeping my mouth shut around the other girls here). there is a filmmaker from California documenting (exploiting?) a lot of our activities on film. she said she wants to take her footage home and make a film that will bring more awareness to the West about “what is going on here” (her words).

i wanted to say “and what is going on here?” i’m sure she thought me a hypocritical ass, so i didn’t press her too hard on the points i’ve outlined above.

all that said, i know i’m here for a reason. i’m just not sure what that reason is yet.

————
*a clinical officer in Zambia is like a nurse practitioner at home: more than a nurse, but less than a doctor.

**nevermind helping. i still haven’t convinced myself i’m not doing more harm than good.

NOTE: i use “we” in a few different ways in this post. sometimes it refers to a specific group of African Impact volunteers. sometimes it refers to the wider “foreign aid worker” population. sometimes it refers to Westerners as a whole. in any case, while i intend to draw geographical lines between Africans and Westerners, i do NOT intend to imply any sort of racial inequality. my arbitrary “we” includes people of all colours born in the West. and “Africans” includes people of all colours born in Africa.

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