Stop Trying To 'Save' Africa

By Uzodinma Iweala
The Washington Post
Sunday, July 15, 2007; B07

Last fall, shortly after I returned from Nigeria, I was accosted by a
perky blond college student whose blue eyes seemed to match the
"African" beads around her wrists.

"Save Darfur!" she shouted from behind a table covered with pamphlets
urging students to TAKE ACTION NOW! STOP GENOCIDE IN DARFUR!

My aversion to college kids jumping onto fashionable social causes
nearly caused me to walk on, but her next shout stopped me.

"Don't you want to help us save Africa?" she yelled.

It seems that these days, wracked by guilt at the humanitarian crisis
it has created in the Middle East, the West has turned to Africa for
redemption. Idealistic college students, celebrities such as Bob
Geldof and politicians such as Tony Blair have all made bringing light
to the dark continent their mission. They fly in for internships and
fact-finding missions or to pick out children to adopt in much the
same way my friends and I in New York take the subway to the pound to
adopt stray dogs.

This is the West's new image of itself: a sexy, politically active
generation whose preferred means of spreading the word are magazine
spreads with celebrities pictured in the foreground, forlorn Africans
in the back. Never mind that the stars sent to bring succor to the
natives often are, willingly, as emaciated as those they want to help.

Perhaps most interesting is the language used to describe the Africa
being saved. For example, the Keep a Child Alive/" I am African" ad
campaign features portraits of primarily white, Western celebrities
with painted "tribal markings" on their faces above "I AM AFRICAN" in
bold letters. Below, smaller print says, "help us stop the dying."

Such campaigns, however well intentioned, promote the stereotype of
Africa as a black hole of disease and death. News reports constantly
focus on the continent's corrupt leaders, warlords, "tribal"
conflicts, child laborers, and women disfigured by abuse and genital
mutilation. These descriptions run under headlines like "Can Bono Save
Africa?" or "Will Brangelina Save Africa?" The relationship between
the West and Africa is no longer based on openly racist beliefs, but
such articles are reminiscent of reports from the heyday of European
colonialism, when missionaries were sent to Africa to introduce us to
education, Jesus Christ and "civilization."

There is no African, myself included, who does not appreciate the
help of the wider world, but we do question whether aid is genuine or
given in the spirit of affirming one's cultural superiority. My mood
is dampened every time I attend a benefit whose host runs through a
litany of African disasters before presenting a (usually) wealthy,
white person, who often proceeds to list the things he or she has done
for the poor, starving Africans. Every time a well-meaning college
student speaks of villagers dancing because they were so grateful for
her help, I cringe. Every time a Hollywood director shoots a film
about Africa that features a Western protagonist, I shake my head --
because Africans, real people though we may be, are used as props in
the West's fantasy of itself. And not only do such depictions tend to
ignore the West's prominent role in creating many of the unfortunate
situations on the continent, they also ignore the incredible work
Africans have done and continue to do to fix those problems.

Why do the media frequently refer to African countries as having been
"granted independence from their colonial masters," as opposed to
having fought and shed blood for their freedom? Why do Angelina Jolie
and Bono receive overwhelming attention for their work in Africa while
Nwankwo Kanu or Dikembe Mutombo, Africans both, are hardly ever
mentioned? How is it that a former mid-level U.S. diplomat receives
more attention for his cowboy antics in Sudan than do the numerous
African Union countries that have sent food and troops and spent
countless hours trying to negotiate a settlement among all parties in
that crisis?

Two years ago I worked in a camp for internally displaced people in
Nigeria, survivors of an uprising that killed about 1,000 people and
displaced 200,000. True to form, the Western media reported on the
violence but not on the humanitarian work the state and local
governments -- without much international help -- did for the
survivors. Social workers spent their time and in many cases their own
salaries to care for their compatriots. These are the people saving
Africa, and others like them across the continent get no credit for
their work.

Last month the Group of Eight industrialized nations and a host of
celebrities met in Germany to discuss, among other things, how to save
Africa. Before the next such summit, I hope people will realize Africa
doesn't want to be saved. Africa wants the world to acknowledge that
through fair partnerships with other members of the global community,
we ourselves are capable of unprecedented growth.

Uzodinma Iweala is the author of "Beasts of No Nation," a novel about
child soldiers.

A Global Health Celebrity in the Family

I've been updating mostly on my other blog since I'm in India this summer, but this piece of news really belongs here. My cousin, Kavitha Narra (who I still remember in diapers), just returned from a visit to Germany for 2007's G8 summit. As you all know, the G8 summit is an annual meeting of the 8 most powerful countries in the world. They have instituted a (new?) feature of the G8 called the J8, wherein young representatives from each G8 country apply (via the United Nations) to participate in the history-making conference. Among other activities, J8 leaders sit with presidents from these 8 superpowers and discuss global issues like health care, the environment, peace and conflict, and other relevant topics.

Kavitha was not only a part of J8, she was the US team leader. She handpicked teammates and teachers, all from The Harker School in Saratoga, CA, to form the J8 team that represented the US this year. She spoke to world leaders along with her teammates, urging them to set small, measurable, achievable goals and calling out politicians who make empty promises just to borrow goodwill. Makes sense, no? She's fifteen.

Now, Kavitha's in Hyderabad, India, learning about female empowerment through business enterprise with ALEAP. She's visiting a lot of sites with her friend and J8 teammate, Rachel.

As you know, political and social apathy among the younger generation has been a definite concern in the past few decades. Some say that US youth haven't been motivated to contribute actively to better their country since the 1960s. I think that creating the J8, and encouraging motivated teenagers like Kavitha, not only shows that youth are starting to play a more active role; it also indicates how important it is for the future of global public welfare to engage these bright young voices.

All about Ayush

This week has been all about Ayush, the alternative system of medicine in India. As I’ve already mentioned, it’s much more widely accepted by the general public than its equivalent in the U.S., and it’s even recognized by the official government of India. Because of its cultural, historical, social and health care importance, I’m glad we got the chance to learn about it.

Ayush stands for Ayurveda, Yoga and naturopathy, Unani, Siddha, and Homeopathy. We didn’t go into much detail about unani, siddha and homeopathic cures; most of our time was spent learning about ayurveda, yoga and naturopathy. But these are all drugless therapies, so some version of hot/cold manipulation, physiotherapy, and herbal treatment is probably incorporated into each one of these. Meditation and breathing exercises also have healing properties in this system.

The basic principles of Ayush are that the body has five great elements: earth, water, air, ether (space), and fire. Health is defined as the harmonious vibrations of all the elements and forces composing the human entity.

The body is said to heal itself if it is given proper scope, or nourishment. We are what we eat. An acute disease is considered to be the healing and cleansing effort of nature, while a chronic disease is the suppression of an acute disease with drugs. There is also something called the unity of disease, which is the accumulation of foreign matter or toxins inside our system. Unity of cure is defined as the elimination of accumulated toxins from the body.

Interestingly, bacteria and germs are considered secondary causes of disease, which I agree with…they are not primary causes. This is an important distinction. Sanitation, improper diet, and other causes that will be discussed below are delineated as causes of disease.

The stomach is the origin of disease, and so it is to be treated first. 99% of diseases, according to our lecturer, Dr. Nair, start in the stomach.

And the last tenet is that the cause of all diseases is one, and their treatment is also one. Dr. Nair did not specify what that one cause was, but I think it’s meant to get patients thinking holistically instead of treating each specific ailment as it comes.

On to the causes of disease. Diseases are defined as violations of nature’s laws. This seems to mean that humans cause disease by going against nature. The causes are: a) ignorance; b) indulgence; c) indifference (high ego). Dr. Nair forgot one that I think is vitally important, and that is d) poverty. It is interesting that she did not include that. Poverty is lack of access to nutritious food, clean water, etc…before many people get the chance to be ignorant, indulgent or indifferent, they are simply poor.

Obviously, modern medicine could have a field day with some of these descriptions, but the traditional system in India is simply a theory. On its side are centuries of experience, so it can’t be easily dismissed.

There are many treatments that Ayush offers for various ailments. They are best for chronic conditions such as arthritis, obesity, diabetes, asthma, migraines, sinusitis, and depression. They do massage therapy, hydrotherapy, mud treatments, nutritional counseling (and fasting), chromotherapy (color therapy), yoga, acupressure, magnetotheraphy, electrotherapy, aromatherapy and acupuncture (the last two are widely practiced but are not officially Ayush, because they aren’t traditional Indian healing methods).

A few words on ayurveda (this is basic info that can be gotten anywhere): ayurveda is literally the science of life. Veda is science, and ayur means life. There are three main aims to it: 1) the prevention of disease by adopting a healthy lifestyle; 2) the cure of ailments through treatments, medicine and surgery (yes, surgery!); and 3) rejuvenation. The two major works of literature composing ayurvedic thought are the Charaka Samhita and the Sushruta Samhita. The first is a book on general medicine, and the second is on surgery. These were written by ancient physicians as early as the 7th century, though ayurveda was undoubtedly practiced even earlier. Ayurvedic medicine has a large scope; it was shocking to hear that it includes surgery. It also has branches in ophthalmology, ENT (ear, nose and throat), pediatrics, botany, and more. I’m fascinated to learn more about it.

Another highlight of our week at Bapu was the dance lesson we got yesterday. It was just Linda and I who wanted an Odissi lesson, but in the end, several others came to watch the guruji teach us the history, culture and movements of Odissi dance. I was deemed (by myself first, and more definitively by Dr. Nair) to have both the interest and physique, but not the talent and grace, for traditional dance. I hope it’s not true, but I suspect this ordinance holds true for other types of dance, too. I guess I should stick to athletics.

Oh yes, and there has been a change in travel plans! Tomorrow is our last day of CFHI fun…we are traveling to the village of Mewat, which I’m really looking forward to. If you remember, we postponed this trip a few weeks due to Gujjar uprisings. After tomorrow, Emma goes home and Sejal and I are planning a trip to Dehradun, a hill station in the Himalayas. Then we are (theoretically, God willing) off to Mumbai, where we will stash our bags at an Aunty’s house and go on to explore Goa. Let’s see how it all works out though, God only knows!

Until Mid-July....

...check out my Delhi blog, because that's where I'll be! I've been in Delhi for a month, but now it's time to pick up and travel around India some more. Mini-trips to the Himalayas, Bollywood and Goa are in the works (of course, God willing!). I came to India through an NGO called CFHI, to learn about HIV and public health challenges in this country of one billion people. Check it out!

Learning from the Acumen Fund: A strategic plan for international aid

I recently read an article on the Acumen Fund in the Stanford Business magazine, which I'm fond of. It was an appropriate piece to include in the publication, considering that the founder of Acumen, CEO Jacqueline Novogratz, is a graduate of the business school.

What struck me about her strategy is how simple it is. Basically, Acumen collects money from philanthropists and corporate investors, identifies businesses in developing countries that need assistance, gives loans to those business owners, and provides managerial assistance to ensure that improvements are made and that profits are eventually turned.

Loans, coupled with the business acumen provided by lenders, force small business owners to ferret out destructive elements like underperforming and pilfering. When a third party is scrutinizing all aspects of production (remember, they are now major stakeholders in the proposition), business owners become more efficient and more accountable. These are two crucial qualities sorely lacking in small businesses in developing countries.

How can this strategy be appropriated for use in the public health sector? For developing countries struggling to set up infrastructure, loans must come not only with instructions for use, but with built-in guidance and accountability. One of the keys to Jacqueline's success with business owners is that she constantly asks her customers what they think of Acumen's services. If they are unhappy, the company isn't doing its job. Likewise, if international lenders don't work with developing countries to find sustainable plans to use much-needed funds, little will be gained. Remember, we live in a world where 25,000 people die of hunger every day for reasons that have less to do with lack of resources than poor governance.

Acumen is an interesting example of market-driven solutions for human development. As it says on its website, the Fund aims to "provid[e] a product or a service that can be sold directly to out target market or to a small-scale entrepreneur, not only to government or donors who may be out of touch with the demands of low income consumers or their willingness to pay for what they value."

So there you have it. An example of the private sector not only being at the epicenter of global public health, but showing mistrust for other major stakeholders--governments and NGOs. To quote my sister, a current Stanford GSB student, "The quickest way to solve a problem is through business." Those of us in the field of public health and medicine will do well to heed those words.

The other side of the coin

This is the story of another homeless man I interviewed on Skid Row, Pablo. The post's title refers to my previous entry and immigration issues as considered by the major stakeholders--the people. Obviously, this is anything but a homogenous stakeholder group.

Just like Severiano, I met Pablo at the Downtown Drop-in Center in L.A. He was sitting on a boulder at the Center, looking peacefully the street where a prostitute, a policeman, and a man in a wheelchair were gathered. He is staying temporarily at the nearby L.A. Mission, which he describes as “a living hell.” “The slop they give you isn’t sufficient to survive,” he says. “The guards search you three or four times a day. At Salvation Army, they kick you out after a few days, or start charging you ten bucks a night.”

Pablo was born in 1944 in Puerto Rico. He moved to New York in 1948 with his parents and three sisters, and attended primary school there.

“I’ve been working since I was eight years old,” he says. “I started selling fruits and vegetables on the street when I was ten or eleven.”

Pablo remembers Los Angeles thirty years ago, when he first came from the east coast to work in agriculture.

“L.A. was a lot better back then,” he claims. “There were a lot more job opportunities. Nowadays, there’s no work.”

When asked why he thinks there are fewer and fewer jobs in L.A., Pablo—like many politicians in the country—cites the increasing influx of immigrants.

“They’re willing to work for less,” he says. “If I go in asking for a living wage, employers don’t care because they know they can get the job done for less by an immigrant. They’ll find someone else who’ll sacrifice what they need to get money.”

According to Pablo, this is not a new phenomenon. “I was a union cook at a military academy, and after the [Vietnam] war, they told me, ‘We can get it done cheaper.’ They terminated a lot of Americans to bring the Vietnamese in. They brought them to [Fort] Indiantown Gap for cheap labor.”

Pablo also worked in the oil industry, delivering oil to Panama in the late 1980s when citizens went on strike against then-President Noriega. “The U.S. has a lot to do with the pollution of oceans,” he notes. He also worked in Boston, Texas, Washington and Tennessee, doing everything from coffee roasting to waste management. He likes the adventure of travel and the camaraderie that grows from working with fellow men. “You don’t have to look behind your back,” he reflects. “The guy next to you is your father, your brother, your mother. You don’t have time to argue.”

How long has Pablo been homeless? “I’ve been here three weeks,” he tells me. “I’m getting old, I need the sunny weather.” He then goes on to explain his battle to get financial support from the government. “I won it in court,” he claims. “They owe me disability. I can’t work no more after my bypass. I’ve worked all my life. But the government would rather die than give you any money. They never answer the phone and when you go in to see them, they treat you like garbage.”

I ask about Pablo’s plans for the future. “I’m just waiting for my social security to come in,” he says. “821 dollars.” Considering how often he moves around, I wonder how the check will make it to him. “Oh, I have direct deposit.” Once he gets his check, he’ll rent a room for $280 at a nearby hotel.

Pablo isn’t worried about drugs deals and other criminal activity on Skid Row—despite acknowledging rampant drug use, he seems to think it’s pretty safe. “But the government could take care of this if they wanted to. [The police] lock up 30 or 40 people every day for drugs. Nowhere in the world is [the culture of homelessness] as bad as it is here in L.A.”

A tale of two countries

I met Severiano O. at the Downtown Drop-in Center on Skid Row during L.A.’s Big Sunday 2007 event. He’s 26 years old, tan, tired and unkempt—they offer showers at the Drop-in Center, but from his appearance, that doesn’t seem to be a priority for him right now.

He is quick to tell me that the reason he is currently homeless is because of a restraining order placed against him by his girlfriend, with whom he was sharing an apartment in downtown L.A.

Growing up in the town of Colima near Guadalajara, Mexico, Severiano had four brothers and four sisters. It was a big brood, and when asked about family dynamics, he doesn’t hesitate to tell me that his family life was unproblematic.

“We didn’t have too many issues. My parents are still together,” he says.

Like so many Mexicans, Severiano came to the U.S. for job opportunities, and has had no trouble finding work in his chosen profession—construction. His friend, also in the construction business, helped pay his way from Mexico and even gave him a place to live and found him his first job. Severiano likes construction work; his only complaint is that employers are often unwilling to pay his going rate of $250 per day.

He tells me that has worked in various cities in Southern California, and even traveled to the city of Pasco in Washington state to build houses. However, in Pasco, the construction job fell through and he ended up working in the field, picking apples. When winter came, there was no more work, so in 2001 he came back to L.A.

After a one-month stint at an L.A. construction company, Severiano began “esquiñando,” literally, “cornering,” an activity many Californians are particularly familiar with. He would sit on the corner of a Home Depot, waiting for people to pick him up for a day’s work. Once, he found a “patron” who gave him steady work for eight months. He doesn’t mention why the job ended; he just tells me he went back to sitting on the corner.

I ask him if he has ever had trouble finding work. “No, I can find work easily. I can make an entire house from start to finish. They don’t want to pay $250, they’d rather pay $80 or $150.” Has he ever had a problem with wage arrears? “Sometimes they don’t want to pay what they promised,” he concedes. “They’re not happy with my work, or they just want to pay less.”

Like many homeless young men living on Skid Row, Severiano has both a drug problem and a police record. He was deported twice in 2006, after being incarcerated on separate occasions for domestic violence and driving under the influence. He was dumped at the border town of Tijuana only to return soon afterward.

“It’s very hard not to fall into drugs here,” he says, alluding to the rampant dealing of drugs that mark Skid Row’s decrepit atmosphere. Is he clean now? “Now, yes.”

Unlike many other immigrants, however, Severiano has family members in the area. As close as San Pedro, his cousin has a home, a job, and a growing family. A brother lives in Las Vegas, and a sister lives nearby in Los Angeles. Why doesn’t he stay there while he gets back on his feet? “I feel like a burden when I’m there. I want to make it on my own. What I get in my life, I want to earn with my own two hands.”

On the other hand, Severiano notices fundamental cultural differences in the way Mexicans and Americans live. “I’m not used to living alone. I’ve never been alone,” he tells me. Unconcerned with his familial relationships, Severiano just wants to make things right with his girlfriend. “I’ve let her down many times. But everything happens in its own time. With tranquility, calmness.”

And finally, I ask about the issue of documentation. How does Severiano feel about the politics surrounding migrant labor? His answer is apolitical—rather, it is simple, humane and reflective. “Leave that topic alone. There are many people who are good and honest, yet they don’t have their papers. There’s a lot of racism.”

“This country is ours too,” he declares. “Our own government is very corrupt. All are. There are mafia, trafficking of drugs, and many things.”

But the challenges for an illegal immigrant like Severiano are profound. “You can’t even say anything, or protect yourself,” he says. “You have no voice. You are boxed in. Some people rob, and do other things. I don’t.”

Above all, Severiano believes in humanity, self-improvement and fate. “All of us have problems. That guy has his, and I have mine. It’s just that I have some unruliness in me. I want to get rid of that. One has to resign oneself to life’s losses and gains. You don’t know your destiny.”

~As told to Farah K.