Taken for a ride

The credit crisis and market downturn brought on by those ‘greedy’ (read unregulated) Wall Street bankers and exacerbated by President Bush and the Republicans’ inability to tie their own shoelaces is all that’s being talked about on the 24 hour news channels. One would be forgiven for thinking that the world is teetering on the brink of a financial apocalypse. This may indeed be the case but there’s no sign of that here yet, at least not for the country’s politicians.

While their American counterparts sift through an undoubtedly riveting 400-page economic bailout plan, Christmas has come early for Liberia’s Senators and Members of Congress. The world’s biggest producer of steel and probably Liberia’s largest private investor, Arcelor Mittal, generously donated 100 brand new 4x4 pick-up trucks to the government last month. Forget for a moment that the cost of this gesture of goodwill is a drop in the ocean compared to Arcelor’s $1.5 billion investment in the country to date. Roads in many rural areas are practically impassable during the rainy season and these trucks could be used to expand the coverage of ministries (e.g. those for education or agriculture), clinics, hospitals and the county police departments thus improving the Liberian government’s ability to serve its people.

Unfortunately however, the vehicles have not been used for any of the above purposes. Instead they have been driven out of the grounds of the Executive Mansion by 100 members of the National Legislature. This makes the trucks effectively a gift to each of Liberia’s politicians from a private company - the same company that has secured the rights to tap into one of the world’s largest deposits of iron-ore (a valuable mineral due to the fact that it is a key ingredient of steel).

This behaviour obviously stinks pretty highly of corruption. The Legislature has the power to take action if big investors fail to abide by national laws or pay their taxes and are also the ones responsible for making sure that Liberia is getting a fair deal from any contracts signed. This is especially important with extractive industries like mining. The minerals deposited underneath Liberian soil are effectively money in the bank for the country. It can decide to ‘withdraw’ these deposits at any time but they are not renewable resources. Once they’ve been removed they’re gone for good and, when they eventually get up to speed, Arcelor will have the ability to dig them up and ship them out at quite a pace. I’m sure they have negotiated a good deal with the Liberian government, especially given the risks associated with investing in a country that’s only 5 years out of civil war. But are they paying a ‘fair’ amount for the rights compared to the profit they will make out of them?

Extractive industries have high incentives to bribe government officials, especially the ones who are directly responsible for decisions on whether or not they are granted the right to extract vast amounts of the country’s natural wealth. It’s a lot cheaper to bribe a handful of key people than it is to compete with other companies and pay the market price for the goods they want. And what’s the best way to make sure that none of the other lawmakers kick up a fuss? That’s right. Just bribe them all by an equal amount (cue 100 shiny off-road vehicles).

To its credit, the Liberian press has picked up on the story and made it the talk of the town in Monrovia, at least for a week or so. In the company’s defence there are conflicting reports as to whether or not the intention was for these vehicles to end up in the hands of individual politicians. Some are suggesting that the donation was actually made to the Executive i.e. the President, and it was she who decided to pass them on to 100 Members of Congress and the Senate. That’s not exactly comforting news though. The other job of the Legislature is to keep tabs on the president and they are likely to take a more relaxed approach to this task after receiving a nice new car from her.

Not out of the Wood yet

President Sirleaf is in New York this week where on Tuesday she addressed the UN General Assembly. In her speech she argued that significant progress is being made in Liberia but that more time is needed for the full implementation of the 'Lift Liberia' development initiative that is currently underway.

I wonder what the assembled ranks of world leaders would make of the fact that, in the same week, she granted clemency to fourteen people accused of murder using the practice of Sassywood (see below) as well as two people found guilty of beating a woman to death for allegedly practising witchcraft. This hardly seems to support the notion that Liberia's justice system is on the road to recovery.

Madam President, I beg you, please reconsider this decision!

Rough justice

When Liberia was colonised by freed slaves in the late 1800s they took a leaf out of the Europeans’ book and settled on the coast, not wanting to venture too far in land for fear of what savage tribes might lie in wait. When an independent state was officially declared in 1847 they went one step further and adopted a two-tiered approach to rule of law in the country. The coastal settlements were governed by a formal constitution (written by Harvard academics) with an imaginary line drawn at some distance from the coast to demarcate the ‘Hinterland’. This was the realm of uncivilised natives - a sort of "here be dragons"-approach to nation-building - and separate Hinterland Regulations were drawn up in an effort to instil some form of order there.

The unbelievable thing about the Hinterland Regulations is that, although they have been revised a few times since 1847, they still exist. In a somewhat un-ambitious PR move they’ve been re-branded as the ‘Interior Regulations’ but are still used by the Ministry of Internal Affairs and a council of traditional leaders as guidelines for the rule of law in these regions.

One of the most interesting (and frightening) aspects of rule of law in the interior is the practice of ‘Sassywood’, a form of trial by ordeal. Although it has now been outlawed it’s still thought to be widely practised in some areas of the country. To a certain extent this is understandable given the limited reach of more formal justice systems. However, a concerted effort is now being made to raise awareness in rural areas that new laws have been passed and crimes should be reported to the police rather than the local Ministry-certified shaman.

So how does Sassywood work? Let’s say one of my goats dies. The cause of death could probably be scientifically investigated but that would take a long time and require skills that might not be readily available. The sudden death of the poor creature could of course also be the work of a curse. And, once the potential source of the curse has been identified, Sassywood is a very effective tool for determining whether the defendant is guilty or innocent. If the accused protests their innocence a potion is concocted from the bark of a type of poisonous tree and administered orally. After this a number of things may happen:

1. Defendant dies – this means the person was guilty and hence justice has been delivered.
2. Defendant vomits out the mixture and survives – this means they are innocent, a similarly just outcome.
3. Defendant passes out – depending on the shape they make when they hit the ground the qualified Sassywood practitioner will be able to determine the degree to which they are guilty and how the matter should be settled.

The above is a somewhat vulgar interpretation of how things may play out but the general idea should be clear. Other trial by ordeal-variants include rubbing said potion into the eyes of the defendant to see if they remain clear (innocent), go red (partially guilty) or even blind (definitely guilty) as well as pressing a red-hot metal implement against the flesh to see if they burn. Admittedly people have a tendency to admit their guilt before suffering any of the above ordeals, in which case the affair can be resolved through the payment of a fine – not unlike a more conventional plea-bargain you could say.

While there are obvious pitfalls in such a system of justice it is certainly efficient. However, Sassywood is just one of a number of ‘harmful traditional practices’ that the Liberian government and NGOs are currently trying to address. The problem is that failing to show respect for these deeply-ingrained forms of culture can seriously derail development interventions. My colleague who works with Women’s Rights issues recounted to me how she was once ‘chased’ out of a village by members of a local secret society who saw her as a threat to their culture (a culture that includes FGM – female genital mutilation – which many organisations are trying to advocate against).

Women have also traditionally been considered as property and hence can be ‘inherited’ by their deceased husbands’ brothers or fathers. Another issue is early marriage. The law says that the age of consent is 18 but it is not uncommon, especially in rural areas, for girls to be married off at 14 or even younger, often to much older men. As a result of this and other factors there is a high level of teenage pregnancy and a low level of school attendance among girls which effectively denies them their right to education.

We are currently working on a proposal for a project that addresses some of these forms of violence against women and seeks to strengthen the implementation of national laws (such as those on rape, inheritance and domestic violence) in the rural south-east of the country. I have just returned from a field assessment there accompanied by my aforementioned colleague and a representative of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. The Ministry representative was there to beef up our traditional credentials and in one village we got to utter that classic African cliché; “take me to your leader”. I literally had to pinch myself.

It seems fairly evident that simply telling people to abandon their cultural practices will not work. As the old saying goes, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink. We will need to adopt a softer and more sophisticated approach to avoid being seen as a threat by traditional leaders and this can be hard to align with the agenda ActionAid wants to push. There are no prizes for guessing what I’ll be working on over the next couple of weeks…

UN-flation and INGO-nomics

OK so I’ve indulged in yet another mini-break on the blogging front. Since my last post I’ve been back to my adopted home of Sweden, to a rock festival on a farm in Norway, visited a friend in Belgium and attended a regional meeting for my organisation in Kenya. Oh, and after all my years of trouble-free flying I finally got to test my knowledge of airline safety procedures by jumping down an aeroplane evacuation slide in the wake of an aborted take-off from the Ivory Coast. But don’t worry. I removed my high-heeled shoes first.

Anyway, I will now attempt to once again gather my thoughts and write something for your reading pleasure. Well, mainly for my own reading pleasure in a few years’ time when I look back on this experience but still, if other people are reading, all the better.

Today’s topic: the price of rented accommodation. I gasped when I found out that the hole in which I had been residing up until about a month ago was costing US $600 per month! I gasped even harder when I learned that the new place I’ve now moved into is costing US $1000 per month! It’s definitely not luxurious but I have a flatmate for company and it’s a marked improvement on what I was enduring before. For starters it’s connected to Monrovia’s small electricity grid so I don’t have to spend half the evening fumbling about in the dark. I even have 24-hour running water which is occasionally hot if the boiler is behaving itself. There’s also a living room and a proper kitchen as well as an air-conditioning unit that doesn’t sound like it’s about to blast off to the moon when I switch it on. However, the price of rented accommodation in Monrovia is comparable to most European capitals. I thought Africa would be cheap. Why isn’t it so?

In some senses you get what you pay for. Anywhere foreigners reside in this city is normally guarded and that security costs money. What’s more, water has to be driven in by a truck and electricity comes from petrol-powered generators so the high fuel prices also add to the tab. However, this really doesn’t explain why rent should be so high. But then when you think about it it’s quite simple. Most of Monrovia’s buildings were either severely damaged or totally gutted during the war. A couple of years later there’s a massive influx of foreign aid workers and there you have it – what I like to call UN-flation. UN missions typically bring in tens of thousands of ex-patriot workers with tax-free salaries who need a relatively comfortable place to live. On top of this you have the international NGOs (INGOs – development charities such as the one I work for) and all of their foreign staff putting upward pressure on rent levels. It’s basic economics: Limited supply and a sudden spike in demand meaning that we’re all paying the same (or much more in my case) as we would back home.

I’m not expecting any sympathy of course. I read in the newspaper today that 30,000 local residents were made homeless this weekend after heavy rains. That’s what happens when you live in a house made out of scrap metal and wicker in a country with the highest rainfall on the continent I suppose. Still, it is a curious phenomenon. There’s a dual economy, espeically when it comes to the housing market. Loads of new residential buildings are going up all over the city but who are they being built for? Not your average Liberian that’s for sure.

Of course, it would be nice if this newly established foreign wealth was being transferred into the pockets of local people somehow. Sadly that doesn’t seem to be the case. It’s true that the development aid money is financing a lot of things that wouldn’t be happening otherwise but it is hard for Liberians to tap into the bulk of the disposable income that ex-pat workers are spending on a daily basis.

One of the reasons for this is that most of the places where we foreigners spend our money are not owned by Liberians. For some reason unbeknown to me there is a thriving Lebanese population in Liberia (and indeed throughout West Africa). What’s more, the Lebanese own all of the hotels, bars, restaurants and supermarkets where the majority of people like me spend our money. However, I should point out that the Lebanese haven’t simply moved in to profiteer from the greenbacks that are now gushing in. They stuck it out through both periods of civil war and are now making substantial investments in an environment which most foreign companies would deem far too volatile. If they weren’t here then I’m not exactly sure who would be providing those services in their place. Most Liberians would have neither the capital nor the know-how to start-up and run these businesses. And even if the owners are foreign, they employ quite a substantial local workforce which is definitely a huge plus. Nevertheless, there are certainly a number of these risk-loving entrepreneurs who are making a tidy little earning (I’ve seen a couple driving around in Hummers for example).

Many of the proposals I have submitted recently have contained an element of skills training and support for income generating activities for the target beneficiaries. The recently ‘completed’ process of demobilising and rehabilitating ex-combatants also aimed to do just this but the question is how well equipped to earn money these people are after they receive such assistance. Many would argue that the training is typically too short to make much of a difference – we’re talking about a matter of months rather than years. Even if people do manage to gain some marketable skills there’s a very limited market to use them in. Another issue is the fact that huge numbers of people are being trained in the same thing e.g. carpentry. This may explain why the main street into downtown Monrovia looks like one long furniture showroom! Whether or not there is sufficient demand to absorb all of these sofas and armchairs is another question, apparently one that isn’t asked often enough though.

You might think that going back to school would be a better bet? Unfortunately even if you have a family that can support you while you do this there’s very little incentive to receive a formal education in Liberia. The public sector is more or less the only employer of educated people in the country and entry-level civil service jobs pay about US $50 per month. A security guard working for a development charity like mine can earn over three times that much without needing to hit the books. Yet another unintended side-effect of INGO-nomics.

Food for thought

I got an unexpected call from our Swedish office today ("Monrovia, this is Stockholm calling. The results of the Swedish jury are...." Oh nevermind.) Swedish Radio had been in touch and wanted to talk to somebody in Africa as part of a programme about the ongoing food crisis. As the only Swedish-speaking member of ActionAid staff in Africa they picked me, albeit by default, to do the interview. I very excitedly dropped what I was doing and went about formulating some talking points in consultation with my colleagues. The interview was to be broadcast live and I wanted to make sure I was well prepared.

I nervously answered the phone at 2pm. It was the producer. I told him I was expecting the call and launched into the usual pleasantries. He then politely informed me that they wouldn’t be using me after all. Apparently I’d been a stand-by but in the end they got the head of UNICEF in Ethiopia to comment instead. I can’t imagine what possessed them to choose him/her over me. In any case, I thought the information I assembled in vain during the day might make an interesting blog post.

As you may or may not know, world leaders are currently assembled in Rome discussing the steep rises in global food prices that have occurred of late. Liberia was identified in a speech by UN Secretary General Ban-Ki Moon as one of the countries most at risk from the price hikes.

As you should already have gathered from my previous posts, Liberia still has a long way to go on its road to development. However, any gains being made with the current influx of aid money and support could be wiped away in one foul swoop if the food crisis deepens any further. The World Bank recently estimated that approximately 50% of typical household expenditure in Liberia is on food and that about half of this is on rice alone. The Liberian agricultural sector is in a pretty sorry state. Although the climate and terrain are ideal for growing rice, not to mention all manner of other crops, about 60% of the rice consumed here is imported, mainly from USA and Asia. In Januray alone rice prices rose by 25% and pushed the number of people living below the poverty line up from 64% to 70% during a period of one month. This obviously has knock-on effects as people depend so much on rice and are forced to spend less on other essentials like healthcare and education for their children.

Global food prices have been rising for a variety of complex and intertwined reasons. As anyone who drives will know, fuel prices are on the perpetual increase. Fuel is needed to power farm machinery, transport the food that is produced and oil products are also used in fertilizer. Higher oil prices therefore mean higher farm overheads and transport costs so consumers face higher prices for the final product. Furthermore, land being used for producing food is rapidly being turned over to the production of crops for biofuels. Increased demand for alternative fuels is a natural consequence of high oil prices but the subsidies being offered to farmers to produce biofuels are distorting the market even further. Another factor to throw into the mix the rapidly expanding middle-classes in countries like India and China. As their populations grow wealthier they tend to eat more meat which causes more crops to be diverted away from feeding people (to feed livestock instead), further increasing prices.

Many of the world’s main rice-producing countries have banned exports over the last few months in an attempt to ensure that there is enough food to feed their own populations. This has led countries relying on imports, such as Liberia, facing even higher prices as the supply on global markets is further reduced.

The World Bank has just approved emergency relief interventions to the value of USD $10 million to try and stave off the immediate short term effects of the price rises in Liberia. I am not sure of the exact content of what they are proposing to do. There has been a tendency in the past to send food aid to countries in similar predicaments. It is important to note however that sending food into a country in such a situation cannot be seen as a solution in the medium to long-term. What is important is that investments are made in the agricultural sector. Large-scale, mechanised domestic food production must start up in order for Liberia to move into a situation of food security. Thus far the problem is not actually a lack of food. There’s food here but people lack the purchasing power to buy it. Jobs also need to be created and household incomes increased so that vulnerability to price shocks is reduced.

One of the reasons why Liberia hasn’t reached anywhere near its full agricultural potential is the destruction and abandonment of farms that took place during the long civil war. However, other countries in the region that have never been to war are also reliant on food imports. Policies which continue to be pursued by the EU and USA including subsidising domestic production and putting up barriers to imports from other countries are a major factor. Fencing off rich country markets from external competition means that farmers in developing countries have lower incentives to increase production. This is one of the reasons why urban flight has been on the increase in Africa i.e. rural areas are being deserted with more and more people moving to cities to try and scrape a living.

OK, I’ve ranted enough for now…

The HIV/AIDS response: Co-ordinating chaos

Once again, apologies for the hiatus on the blogging front. In my defence I have been very busy and when I have been ‘relaxing’ I have found myself incapable of arranging the thoughts buzzing around inside my brain on a daily basis into anything coherent enough to post. Instead I have been drinking and singing karaoke, but I won’t bore you with that now.

Over the last month or so I have been engaging with the Global Fund (for AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria – GFATM for short…oh yes, another acronym). Of course I’m after their money to fund our projects (that’s my job after all) but the process of working with them has been a very interesting experience in itself.

As many of you will know, HIV/AIDS is a huge problem in Africa. Liberia is not currently in the same situation as some countries in Eastern and Southern parts of the continent where, in some cases, as many as one in three people are thought to be infected with the virus. Estimates are a bit sketchy but the general consensus seems to be that the prevalence here is somewhere in the region of 2.5%. That’s still a pretty shocking statistic and, what’s worse, an antenatal survey showed that the rate in pregnant women was closer to 5%. This is effectively a ticking bomb. If pregnant women are infected there’s a very high chance they will pass on the virus to their children and the pandemic will become even worse in generations to come.

Hopefully most people reading this know how HIV spreads so I needn’t go into details there. However, the problem is often framed purely as a health issue when in fact there’s a huge socio-economic aspect as well. People in poor countries are more likely to become infected. Why? Several simple reasons include the fact that they may never have heard of HIV; if they have they don’t know how it spreads; and if they know they may not have access to condoms.

A range of other factors often go unconsidered. HIV is heavily stigmatised and so it is very uncommon for people to reveal their status if they are HIV positive. This pushes the virus underground. Apparently 90% of people lining with HIV in Africa don’t even know they are positive. Even if they are able to go and get tested they often don’t want to simply because they are afraid of being ostracised by their families and communities if they discover the worst. The common conception is that HIV/AIDS is a death sentence since it is incurable. However, antiretroviral drugs now exist which mean that HIV positive people, assuming they have access to the right cocktail of medicines, can lead a long and relatively ordinary life.

And then there’s the whole gender aspect. HIV is often associated with homosexual men in the West. In Africa there’s actually a higher prevalence among women. There are biological reasons why women are more susceptible to the virus but again, there are also social ones. Rape was commonly used as a weapon of war during the civil conflict. Violence against women is deeply ingrained and continues even after the end of the war. The old mantra to fight AIDS used to be the ‘ABC’ approach – Abstain, Be faithful, use a Condom. You don’t need to be a rocket scientist to understand that none of these are particularly helpful to a woman who is raped. For this reason ActionAid has been campaigning to highlight the link between gender-based violence and HIV.

Unfortunately though there are even more reasons why women here may fall prey to the disease. One quite gruesome example is the practice of FGM – female genital mutilation. This is a form of initiation rite for women and girls in many tribes. I don’t know very much about it but suffice to say it involves sharp implements and delicate regions of the body and infection can be transmitted in a similar way to when drug users share needles. It’s quite horrible to think about I know. It’s also a tradition and a very taboo subject which makes it much harder to advocate against.

So what to do? How do we stop this virus from spreading? The Global Fund is a bit unique as far as donors go in that they ask for a national proposal to be submitted rather than organisations sending in their contributions individually. This has meant a lot of meetings with the various NGOs and government departments doing HIV/AIDS work here to try and reach a consensus about what we want to put in Liberia's proposal.

It actually hasn’t been that difficult to agree on what needs to be done. Health systems are weak and need to be strengthened. Infrastructure must be improved. People living with HIV/AIDS must be supported. Stigma must be reduced and myths about the virus dispelled. Drugs and testing services must be made available for free. Condoms must be distributed. People must be informed of the risks. Women must be empowered to negotiate safe sex and…the list goes on (and on). Obviously each of the organisations involved has been trying to push their own agenda (I’m no exception to that rule) but if the agenda is for a good cause then who can argue? The problem has been trying to arrange all of the ideas into a coherent package with activities that compliment one another and that will (hopefully) be accepted by the donor.

Generally speaking I think this is a very good way to do a proposal though i.e. by consulting with all of the stakeholders involved. One thing I’ve discovered since working here is that the development world is often incredibly uncoordinated. There are probably thousands of NGOs all doing very valuable work but there seems to be a near total lack of communication about exactly who’s doing what sometimes. This results in interventions being carried out on a somewhat ‘ad hoc’ basis. Small ‘islands’ of development are dotted around the country where, for example, health services are available while other areas get completely forgotten.

This general lack of coordination seems to be a recurring theme here but I suppose it’s no surprise. After all, if the government functioned properly and was sufficiently well-organised then Liberia wouldn’t be in such a mess and people like me wouldn’t be here trying to look for order in the chaos!

Show us your pics!

Sorry, I know I haven't updated this for ages. I have a million and one things I want to write and I will soon. However, for those of you fortunate enough to be friends with me on Facebook I am attempting to upload some pictures as I write this.

For those of you fortunate enough to not be on Facebook - the link above may work but failing that I will post here again soon!

The tourist

Instead of trying to write a deep, insight-filled article about poverty, development or Liberian politics I thought this entry should be a bit on the lighter side. I want to appeal to a broad readership after all (and I think at last count I had almost five regular readers). So, this post will be a variation on the classic primary school essay What I Did on My Holidays. Is that broad enough for the five of you?

Last week I received a much anticipated visit from my fiancée Teresa. Since she was already coming to Africa to hold a series of meetings with the organisation she works for it seemed like a good idea for her to pop over to Liberia and see me. However since her meetings were in Mozambique, on the other side of this rather large continent, ‘popping over’ entailed a 28-hour flight via Johannesburg, Nairobi and Accra.

I had been rather un-subtly trying to dampen Teresa’s expectations before she arrived. Liberia is really not a country that is in any way geared-up for receiving tourists. There’s no tourist-infrastructure to speak of (well, there’s hardly any infrastructure period) aside from the fact that, putting it euphemistically, the lodging provided for me by my employer ‘lacks comfort’. You really don’t want to spend any longer inside it than is absolutely necessary!

Rather unsurprisingly Teresa’s luggage didn’t make it on the same flight as her. It wasn’t all bad news though. Fearing the worst she’d packed the essentials in her carry-on bag. What’s more, one of my new friends here had kindly said I could housesit for her while she was back home (thanks again Roisin!). The house in question is rather more comfortable than my place – spacious, bright, three bedrooms all with a/c, fully-equipped kitchen, TV and DVD player not to mention (almost) 24 hour electricity and running water! Oh the luxury….

So what does one do as a tourist in the glitzy and glamourous city of Monrovia? Since she had her laptop and mobile with here we made the decision that Teresa would just work from my office. This would allow us both to take ‘proper’ holiday time when I come back to visit Sweden (probably in June). Her organisation is involved with drafting disarmament legislation and since a hell of a lot of disarmament has been going on in Liberia she took the opportunity to meet with a few contacts she had. The evenings and weekends were more than enough time to see the ‘sights’.

The hardest part of being a tourist in Monrovia is transportation. The city is pretty spread out (not unlike a sprawling American city). If you’re not lucky enough to catch one of the few buses and don’t want to sit crammed in a far-from-roadworthy shared taxi you’ll need to find yourself a driver. Luckily we had Casey, a friendly Nigerian jack-of-all-trades offering, among other things, a 24-hour call-out taxi service.

To do this place justice though it only seems fair to run through some of the activities that Monrovia can offer the intrepid holidaymaker (or visiting partner of a development professional):

Beaches! We managed to make it to two different beaches on opposite sides of the city. Both are clean and pleasant and even have pretty good restaurants. The first beach (Silver Beach) to the north is calmer offering great views of the Monrovian peninsular. The second one to the south (Thinker’s Beach) backs straight onto the Atlantic so the water is rougher (probably good for surfers) and cooler.

Restaurants! Believe it or not we had some of the best sushi ever (twice) at the Royal Hotel just around the corner from where I live. Thinking about it there’s no reason why it shouldn’t be good considering all the raw materials are here – rice, fish etc. Liberia also has a large Lebanese population and so meze is pretty ubiquitous. And then there’s shellfish of course. I did warn Teresa about eating crab but she went ahead and did it anyway. They may be tasty but it’s pretty hard to break into them without one of those nut-cracker things you normally get.

Clubbing! Oh yes indeedy. Thanks to the thriving ex-pat population there is no shortage of bars and clubs in Monrovia. We enjoyed live music and dancing at the roof-top Bamboo Bar (which affords the visitor an open-air panoramic view over the city centre), cheesy tunes at the ex-pat stronghold New Jacks (complete with beachside bonfire) not to mention the Garden Café, another favourite for live music with an unusually high proportion of female revellers (I’ll leave you to read between the lines there).

Relaxing by the pool? I’m not joking actually. Another new friend of mine (cheers Liam) lives in a compound containing mostly UN staff as well as the biggest swimming pool I’ve seen in Monrovia (I’ve seen three for the record).

So it wasn’t all work-work-work. Before she left we even visited my place for a spot of interior decoration to brighten the place up. It’s still a hole but a slightly more colourful one now, with batiks and photos hanging on the wall. And now the rainy season is creeping up (it officially starts on 15th April - why isn’t everything in Liberia that well planned?) I could be spending a lot more time indoors.

Poverty eradication versus conservation

Last week was both the most taxing and the most interesting since I arrived here in Liberia. A pilot project that ActionAid is implementing for Conservation International was to be reviewed together with a representative from the United States Agency for International Development, the project financiers. Operating under the rather American-sounding title ‘Civilian Conservation Corps’, the project aims to engage with communities living around Sapo National Park in the remote southeast of the country. The objective is to provide incentives for communities in return for their contribution to conservation activities and the enforcement of park protection.

Established as Liberia’s first protected area in 1983, Sapo is a biodiversity hotspot and an important part of the Upper Guinea Forest Ecosystem. Some parts of the forest are thought never to have been entered by humans and the park is home to several rare species, some of which are endemic to the area. Sapo made international news headlines last week when the elusive Pygmy Hippo, once thought to be extinct, was captured on camera by a team from the Royal Zoological Society.

I could tell that tensions were running slightly above their normal levels among my colleagues in the office. The pressure was on to prove to the donor that the project was producing tangible results. This was going to be a challenge given the subtle nature of the intervention. What’s more, the communities are more or less cut off from the rest of the country due to the near total lack of infrastructure. The word ‘road’ is far too generous a term to describe what we drove over to get out there! The journey took the best part of two days. To put this into context, Liberia is roughly one third the size of the UK. We passed numerous vehicles that were stuck and some of the passengers had been waiting by the roadside for several days.

Faced with this isolation people living in the area are forced to engage in illicit activities which undermine the conservation of the park. The area is rich in wildlife and hunting for ‘bush meat’ is rife. The problem is that much of what is caught is endangered. At one stop your correspondent was offered some smoked Colobus Monkey. Identification of the species was made possible by the fact that the arms and hands were still attached! Another activity taking place on a significant scale is mining, mostly for diamonds and gold, and several illegal mining settlements have grown up within the park boundaries. Some are apparently better-equipped than the permanent communities outside the park, with generators and even video stores! The most curious thing about them however is their names: Baghdad, Afghanistan and America. Are these supposed to be ironic in some way?

So how do you go about convincing the locals to stop killing the cute, fluffy animals and prevent miners from entering the park to dig up their habitat? Conservation organisations have traditionally lobbied for the establishment of protected areas and official systems to enforce them. However, the Liberian government simply doesn’t have the resources to effectively police Sapo and the incentives for local communities to undermine park protection are huge considering the lack of alternatives they have. Some of the communities even claim that parts of their traditional forest were ‘grabbed’ by the authorities when the park was established without any form of consultation or compensation. This approach is clearly unfair as well as unsustainable. ActionAid’s strategy on the other hand has been to try and rather innovatively marry poverty eradication with conservation.

The first step in the process is to conduct what we in the business call a Participatory Vulnerability Analysis. In layman’s terms this amounts to sitting down with the communities and discussing why it is that they engage in illicit activities. During the process an attempt is also made to raise their awareness of conservation issues and the value of keeping the park intact. The next step is to get communities to come up with a plan for what they need in order to find alternative means of sustaining themselves. Some of the ideas so far include micro-loan schemes, agricultural activities and road rehabilitation projects. Once communities have been given the chance to take up alternative livelihoods the hope is that they will stop poaching the wildlife. Since most of the illegal miners come from outside the area and the only way for them to enter the park is through the villages in which we are working, it is also envisaged that volunteer watch teams will be set up to address this.

As always, the reality is much less simple. It will be difficult to achieve these goals unless there is long-term engagement in the area. One issue that came up during the review meetings was eco-tourism. This has the potential to be an enormously lucrative enterprise for the Sapo region in the future but the area is currently far from ready to receive environmentally-sensitive holidaymakers. With this in mind, it would be interesting to look at Costa Rica’s development strategy to see how this could be applied in the Liberian context. There are many parallels with the situation here – a volatile region prone to civil conflicts, marginalised local communities, a lack of infrastructure especially roads – but despite this Costa Rica has managed to keep a very high proportion of its land mass protected and is now reaping the economic benefits of an influx of tourists.

Encouragingly, the locals we met did seem to be aware of the reasons why the park was protected and one village had already formed its own watch group. The key to success will be to agree on suitable alternative livelihoods. One suggestion the communities made was to provide support for rubber plantations. However, this may also undermine park conservation due to the amount of forest that would need to be cleared, aside from the fact that it takes seven years before rubber tapping can start.

Most importantly for the continuation of the project was the fact that the donor representative seemed to be largely happy with what he saw. For my part, the trip was exciting but exhausting and it’s good to be back. Monrovia almost feels comfortable compared to some of the places I stayed during the visit!

Oh and in case you’re wondering, I didn’t see a Pygmy Hippo, not even on a barbecue.

Pandora’s Box

While visiting the toilet at a restaurant in the northern town of Ganta yesterday I observed something which set my mind spinning. It wasn’t the rust-coloured pools of water, the extensive array of insect life or the generally unpleasant smell. Nor was it the fact that there was no lock on the door or, despite getting a lot of practice in, that I still haven’t mastered the art of flushing with a bucket.

Fastened to the wall above the sink was a wooden box. The box was adorned with the logos of various development agencies below which was written “Free condoms. Practice safer sex. Help yourself.”

My initial reaction was one of pleasant surprise. Sub-Saharan Africa has the worst rates of HIV/AIDS of anywhere on the planet. I believe the figure in Liberia is somewhere in the region of 2.5% (although I’m not sure a very thorough survey has been conducted). A lack of access to condoms is one of many factors that have caused HIV to spread with such relentless fervour. In a country where the majority of the population can barely afford to eat every day it would seem like a good idea to give away protection for free.

The box, however, was empty. I later saw an identical one in my hotel bathroom which was in a similarly unfortunate predicament. That’s the problem with uncontrolled freebies. They tend to run out pretty fast and, more often than not, there’s no system to replace them. The same is often said of international aid in general. For the moment let’s leave aside the debate about whose fault it is that certain countries find themselves in such an incredibly tragic state and what moral obligation the richer world may or may not have to help them. What happens when all of us ‘do-gooders’ bugger off back home? Who will ensure that any progress made is sustained in the long-term? In short, who’s going to fill that box back up again and again?

Liberia is enjoying something of a honeymoon period at the moment, at least in comparison to its recent past. Foreign aid is pouring in from all corners of the globe, debt is being written off, 15,000 UN troops are keeping the peace and the main roads into most towns are like Las Vegas-style strips of brightly-painted NGO signs. But it won’t be like this forever. The UN is already starting to pull out and at some point in time emergencies in other parts of the world will force NGOs to focus their resources elsewhere too.

So what’s the answer? Returning once again to our box, an orthodox capitalist might retort that if you charged for the condoms they would be used rationally, rather than being plundered by the first person to find them. What’s more, when they ran out there would be an incentive to replace them because someone could make a profit from doing so. This is all true but is pretty much a moot point. There probably wouldn’t be a need to replace them at all. Nobody in Ganta would be able to pay for them and the sexual act would simply continue unprotected. In the same way, Liberia does not have the money to pay for its own rehabilitation. Without the foreign assistance it is currently receiving there is a high risk that it would simply slide back into civil war.

Instead of leaving the condoms in the box to dispense themselves, and in the absence of a means to pay, it is necessary to develop a strategy to ensure their availability is sustained. Perhaps a locally-staffed clinic or volunteer group could be set up to hand out the condoms together with information on how HIV spreads. This would of course require a sustainable source of funding so it’s important that people don’t come to depend on NGOs to provide such services. The local population must be made to realise that it is their government who is ultimately responsible for their welfare and to whom demands must be directed.

There’s a general tendency in developing countries to accept the sub-standard simply because it has become the norm. I often feel like a whingeing, spoiled foreigner when, for example, I complain that something in my room needs to be fixed. However, if you look at it another way you could say that the act of demanding that my expectations be met will in turn lead to a better provision of services (in this case from my landlord) for future tenants. You could say I'm whingeing for my rights!

Of course it’s not that simple on the national level in reality. People can demand all they like but without the UN and NGOs providing a large proportion of the country’s basic services it would be impossible for the Liberian government to cope with current needs. I am merely raising this point because I think it serves to illustrate the necessity of a rights-based approach to development. When people are made aware of their rights and know who to hold accountable for ensuring their protection there is a much better chance that those rights will be enjoyed in the post-assistance era. After all, there’s no point helping a country rebuild itself if it simply falls apart again when the international community pulls out.

It’s amazing the train of thought that can stem from a visit to the loo.

It’s all about M&E, M&E, M&E

So, I thought my next post should probably focus on Liberia and my experiences here. Fortunately I have no shortage of material based on the past week!

The plan was to leave for the field on Tuesday together with a team of my colleagues to conduct some monitoring and evaluation (M&E in development speak). A project supporting agricultural workers in the west of the country (many of whom had recently returned from refuge in Sierra Leone) had just completed the first phase of its activities and the idea was to go and talk to the beneficiaries and get feedback on how things could be improved in the second phase. This is something I really like about ActionAid. We go and ask the people we are supporting what they think of us and the different aspects of the projects. Admittedly I have limited experience of other development agencies but my impression is that this is quite a unique approach.

I got the impression they were expecting us at the first place. Shortly after we pulled up in our 4x4 we were greeted by a full on display of tribal dancing and singing by the village’s women. We all then assembled in the ‘village square’ (a sort of meeting area with a corrugated iron roof) and our local representative explained in the local language (Mende) why we were there. We were then introduced to the town chief, the imam (the region is predominantly Muslim), project chairman and chairwoman as well as the District Development Councillor (a position set up by the UN to co-ordinate local development initiatives).

Things felt, shall we say, slightly orchestrated at first. People expressed their thanks and unending gratitude to ActionAid for having come to their village to help them. Live chickens were even presented to us as a token of their appreciation. However, it was difficult to try and convince them to say anything critical which is really what we were looking for. I suppose one has to put oneself in their shoes. It’s a part of the culture here to be thankful when such help is received (rather than viewing it as an entitlement that should be provided by the state) and the village leaders saw the meeting as a PR exercise to make sure the cash flow didn’t stop.

One thing that was apparent from the outset is that it is the men who hold the positions of authority and do all the talking. We had constant problems with the designated interpreters as well. We would ask a question and the interpreter (normally a person of authority in the village and always a man) would just answer the question in English. We would then counter this by saying that he was supposed to interpret the question for the community, not simply answer himself!

However, as we progressed around the various communities we became more skilful at extracting the relevant information. One thorny issue which I was eager to unravel was how the project participants had been selected. 35 farmers from each of the communities were to be provided with training and inputs in order to start up agricultural activities. Since the majority of people living in these communities are involved in some sort of small scale agriculture I wanted to know how the selection process had been conducted and whether any conflicts had arisen as a result. The dialogue went something like this:

“We were told that 35 farmers were needed so we called everyone to a meeting and people put their names on a list.”
“OK, but there must have been more than 35 people that wanted to take part?” I replied.
“No, just 35, that was all we were allowed.”
“Yes but how did you eliminate the other people who wanted to take part?”
“Well, when we had 35 names we just stopped.”
“So it was first come first served?”
“Well… yes.”
“Is there anyone here who wanted to take part but couldn’t?” I asked. This was met with silence. When I pushed the point one woman raised her hand and piped up:
“Yeah, I waited all day and put my name down but when the final list was written my name wasn’t there.”

Clearly there is a need for greater transparency and fairness in selecting the farmers who take part. Obviously the best thing would be if everyone who wanted to take part could, but then the problem would just be externalised. How can we justify selecting certain communities in the area over others? This is an important consideration for any development intervention. The last thing we want to do is create conflict by offering help to some and not to others.

I thought it was a fruitful mission all in all. When a project doesn’t pass off perfectly (and how many ever really do?) it is interesting to find out why and take actions to improve things for the future. The beneficiaries are best placed to offer feedback but attention must be paid to making sure that the feedback gathered is representative of the community as a whole, not just those who talk the most.

A new hope

This time ten years ago (in a galaxy far, far away) I was backpacking around another country with next to no public transport, boundless poverty and an unquenchable thirst for war. In case you hadn’t guessed I’m talking about the USA. That country must now make a historic decision and I’d like to throw my two pennies’ worth into the debate, if I may.

Hillary or Obama? The first female US presidential candidate or the first African American one? Well folks, I can reveal that I would plump for the latter and here’s why…

Let’s get one thing clear to start with. It’s not because he’s black. “He isn’t black”, a black guy from Harlem that I met one night pointed out to me. “His mom is a white woman from Kansas.” His dad incidentally was a foreign exchange student from Kenya who attended the University of Hawaii. He was raised in Indonesia. Without wanting to perpetuate stereotypes, I think it's safe to say that Obama's life thus far has borne little resemblance to that of the majority of African Americans. In any case, it’s beside the point. This choice should not be racialised or feminised. You should vote for someone based on what they stand for, not because they’re black, white, a woman or whatever.

If I could I would vote for Obama mainly for one reason. It may seem like a small thing but in my opinion it would help the world avoid a path to mutual destruction. He has said that he would be willing to talk to America’s ‘enemies’ (read: Cuba, Venezuela, Syria, Iran and North Korea) without setting preconditions. What a genius! Why didn’t anyone else think of this before? I mean, what harm can possibly come from talking to your adversaries? Aren’t you less likely to bomb someone into oblivion if you’ve at least had coffee with them first and discussed what it is about each other that pisses you off so much?

Because of this Obama’s detractors label him as naive. Hillary may be more experienced and have a better grasp of some of the details than her Democratic rival but she has ruled out any such meetings with the aforementioned countries without first setting preconditions. It pays to stand firm and be principled sometimes but in many other instances it is far better to be pragmatic and judge a situation based on first-hand experiences. Meet someone, talk to them, weigh up what they are saying and then decide on a course of action. Perhaps that way we can avoid another six trillion dollar war like the one Hillary voted for.

Obama is currently leading in the delegate count that decides who will eventually become the Democratic Party’s nominee. Two big states, Ohio and Texas, are voting this Tuesday. They have been billed as make or break contests for Hillary, who has lost the last eleven on the trot. There’s no argument that she’s an extremely competent politician and would definitely be a vast improvement on the current president (not a huge achievement in itself). However, I can’t help but root for the other guy on this occasion. The world really needs him right now.

Dude, where’s my childhood?

I’ve just finished a brilliant book which I can thoroughly recommend: A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah. It is the heart-wrenching autobiography of a former child soldier from Sierra Leone, a brutally honest account of how, after being forced to flee his village and losing his family, he is conscripted into the army to defend the country against a rebel uprising.

Putting it mildly, there are parts of the text that are really quite horrific but I was surprised at how easy it was to read and how it improved my understanding of the situation these children find themselves in. I thought it would also be good research since Liberia (which borders Sierra Leone) went through a similarly gruesome civil conflict in which children were often those fighting on the front line. It can be argued that Sierra Leone’s civil war was almost a spill-over effect of Liberia’s and many of those conscripted into the rebellion were in fact Liberian mercenaries.

The lack of a sense of belonging and a thirst to avenge the murder of his family combined with the almost constant shadow of fear and nauseating hunger made it easy for a charismatic lieutenant to persuade Ishmael and his friends to take up arms. Children don’t have the same self-preserving sense of fear as adults, especially when they’re given copious amounts of drugs (mainly brown-brown, a mixture of cocaine and gunpowder) and put into a situation where it’s ‘kill or be killed’. This makes them ideal fighting machines.

One of the most telling lines in the book is when the lieutenant says to Ishmael, as he is packing his bag: “Make sure you take as much ammo as you can carry. Don’t worry about food and water. As long as you have ammo you will have food and water”. It certainly doesn’t seem like the author holds back on many of the gory details. He describes in depth the first time he kills someone on the battlefield and how it makes him feel as well as how he ruthlessly tortured and executed prisoners with the encouragement of his commanders.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the book though is when he recounts the rehabilitation process. He is rescued from the army by Unicef and placed in a home together with other child soldiers. At first, chaos ensues. The rehabilitation workers don’t seem to realise that they have put children from both of the warring factions together in the same room. They immediately start fighting and killing each other and attacking members of staff. It is hard for the children to understand why they have been taken away from their regiments and they resent having to obey orders from ‘civilians’ who continuously tell them their behaviour is “not their fault”.

Many of the development projects currently being undertaken in Liberia are linked to this DDRR process (Demobilisation, Disarmament, Rehabilitation and Reintegration). In fact, the proposals I have been working on since I arrived are specifically targeted at young people in rural areas, many of whom are former combatants. The aim is to provide the skills training and inputs necessary for them to feed themselves and earn a living without needing to resort to armed violence.

Ishmael Beah, who is about a year younger than me, now lives in New York City with an adoptive mother and works for the organisation Human Rights Watch. He has given numerous lectures at the UN and across the globe on the issue of children in war. He describes writing the book as a form of therapy that helped him to understand and come to terms with the acts he participated in that robbed him of his childhood.

Remember him?

Monrovia is closed for business today. All the roads were shut down and only official vehicles were allowed to pass. Military helicopters buzzed overhead and there were police stationed on every corner. Thousands of people were lined up along Tubman Boulevard, the main street into town, to celebrate the arrival of a much anticipated visitor.

However, when I turned up to greet my adoring public they all had their backs turned. Having become something of a local celebrity in my neighbourhood over the past couple of weeks I was slightly taken aback. Many bystanders were wearing t-shirts that read “Liberia and America. United for Progress”. It was after seeing the gigantic signs saying “Liberia welcomes President George Walker Bush” and the banner draped from a nearby building which said “Welcome Bush. Liberia Loves You” that I finally took the hint. These people weren’t here for me. Someone asked me which newspaper I was from. Another if I was in the CIA. “Do I look like a secret agent” I replied pointing at my ragged t-shirt and flip-flops? I suppose it could have been a good disguise.

Yes good old ‘W’ was in town. Remember him? It seems like he’s been somewhat absent from the news recently but apparently he’s still breathing. Liberia is the last stop on his week long tour of Africa and what better way to round off a trip? People waved flags and cheered as his motorcade rolled past. It must feel strange for him to receive such a rapturous welcome considering he’s more or less equated with Satan in most other parts of the world these days. Imagine if someone put up a sign saying “Britain Loves You George” when he visited London?

He’s due to meet assorted Liberian dignitaries, speak at Monrovia University as well as visit a military training installation that the US has paid for. The Americas have given US$139 million to modernise Liberia’s army. One wonders if this should have been a priority given the recent history of the place (two decades of civil war?….I know lets train more soldiers!).

The more sceptically inclined might say that the only reason he’s here is to build support for an American military base in Africa (something the Liberian government has said it would willingly provide land for) or perhaps to counter the ever-increasing Chinese presence in the region (they resurfaced the road Bush just sped down as it would happen). But none of this seemed to matter to the cheering crowds who’d come out to show their appreciation. It’s the first time an American President has visited Liberia in 30 years. Who cares if he’s only staying for seven hours!

Some first impressions and observations

Fuel shortages

I am picked up by our driver every day and on our way to the office we go past a modern Total petrol station. The only thing that sets it aside from one you might see on any street in Europe is the long line of cars, mostly the battered yellow taxis, that are sometimes backed up for almost a kilometre down the street. There seem to be supply chain issues when it comes to fuel i.e. there often isn’t any to buy and people simply wait in line for hours on end until it arrives. This must really suck if you’re a taxi driver and dependent on gasoline to make a living. How much money must they be losing simply due to the fact that they have to take a day off just to fill up?

As we drove past on the way home the queue didn’t seem to have gone down much. I noticed one taxi with a strikingly obvious observation painted on the side: Life in Africa is hard. Amen to that.

Livin’ La Vida Liberia

However much I want to try and fit in here and live like an ordinary Liberian it’s never going to work. I’m obviously a foreigner on account of my skin colour and this means I’ll get special treatment. This can be both good and bad of course. The thing is, although there are a lot of gringos in Monrovia, you don’t see many of them just wandering about. The SUVs they drive around in are almost an extension of their bodies. They board said vehicles inside the compounds they live in and do not exit until safely inside the compounds where they work. Admittedly I do this too but since I don’t have my own car or a duty driver at my beck and call 24-7 I am forced to brave the outside world on my own two feet from time to time.

It’s hard not to be suspicious when people you don’t know approach you on the street. On my way to find some lunch today a guy came up and introduced himself and proceeded to walk alongside me. Being the polite Englishman that I am I told him my name and started chatting. I was almost certain he’d eventually ask me for money but instead he invited me to go to church with him.

A similar thing happened when I’d just finished eating my dinner and was standing outside the Bangladeshi restaurant beside where I live. People emerged from the shadows and came up to greet me. That’s it. No strings attached.

Of course some people ask for money, and who can blame them considering there’s an 85% unemployment rate? A kid followed me back from the supermarket and offered to help me carry my things (an offer I rather stupidly declined). Although I have a principle about not giving out money to people on the street he was a friendly little fellow and it was just too hard to send him away empty handed.

However I think the majority of people are just generally very friendly and curious about what I’m doing here. It’s hard to accept that coming from Europe where we’re told at an early age never to talk to strangers but I find myself becoming more gregarious by the day.

Scary white man?

Being the token white guy and sticking out everywhere I go makes me think about how Africans must feel if they ever find themselves in small towns in Europe. I’ve just finished reading a book by a Polish journalist who lived and worked in different parts of Africa over a 40 year period. He recalled that in some African countries mothers told their children that if they didn’t behave themselves a white man would come and get them! I got my first piece of evidence that this may indeed be the case in Liberia when a toddler took one look at me, burst into tears and started screaming. Then again I have been known to have that effect on people sometimes.

First week in Monrovia

The first thing you notice as you’re coming in to land over Liberia is that it’s very green. This isn’t surprising since it’s statistically one of the wettest parts of Africa. It’s not just the colour of the countryside that stands out but also the lack of ‘things’; roads, bridges, buildings, farms etc., that sets it aside from most other places I’ve seen from the air. But as the aircraft closes in on the runway the infinite expanse of jungle is suddenly punctuated by large white tents bearing nothing but two letters: UN.

After collecting my bags from a similar large, white tent and passing through ‘passport control’ (which consisted of a guy in a shed behind a wooden table) I met my driver, David, and hopped into a white Toyota Landcruiser to begin the drive into Monrovia. Toyota seem to be doing brisk business in Liberia. Every NGO owns at least one, not to mention all the UN Mission to Liberia (UNMIL) personnel – and there are a lot of them! In fact the white Toyota Landcruiser competes for dominance with only one other vehicle on the streets of Monrovia: the communal taxi. These clapped-out, yellow heaps splutter their way up and down the peninsula on which the city is situated, laden to bursting point with paying passengers. This is the only option the city’s commuters have given the almost total lack of public transport (a fact I find rather frustrating having lived in Stockholm for the last four and a half years where buses and trains will take you anywhere you want to go).

After briefly visiting ActionAid’s office and meeting my new boss, Ernest, I was shuttled over to my accommodation at a complex owned by the Lutheran Church in an area known as Sinkor. I initially thought I was the only occupant of the huge dilapidated guest house but I have since bumped into others in the gloomy corridors. Shortly after I arrived the sun started to go down which brought to light (or rather dark) the next logistical issue characteristic of the city – the lack of an electricity grid. Shortly after lighting a candle however I was relieved to hear a loud rumbling as my air-conditioning unit began blasting out refreshingly cold air. It was 7pm and the generator had been turned on. I could breathe again and turned on the light to inspect the place more closely. While my room certainly won’t win any awards for comfort, I shouldn’t complain given the conditions most of the local population are living in. I have a bathroom with a shower and running water, at least when the generator is turned on. Failing that I have an ‘en-suite bucket’ to pour cold water over myself at other times of the day if need be! What I don’t have is any way to prepare food and my fridge appears to heat things up rather than cool them down (I’m pretty sure it’s not an oven!). Supposedly I’m moving into a bigger, better-equipped room down the hall this week which is currently being renovated. I guess I’ll just try to suspend judgement until then…

My first week at work was as busy as I’d hoped it would be. The ActionAid team here are all very friendly and extremely competent and knowledgeable. After introductory meetings on Monday I set off to visit some projects in rural communities about three hours inland together with some of the staff from the office and a colleague from London who was here to run a series of workshops with partners and field staff. The route we took was partly by paved road (crossing through UN check points) and partly by heavily pot-holed dirt track. The projects we visited have been financed by the UK’s Big Lottery Fund and are aiming to provide skills training for women affected by the war. I was very impressed with what I saw, especially the level of engagement of the people involved. The countryside was beautiful and the villages were almost exactly how I’d rather stereotypically pictured a West African village to be. We were met by excited groups of small children wherever we arrived, waving and shouting “hello” and it was hard not to leave feeling optimistic despite the obvious level of poverty that people are faced with.

I would have loved to stay longer and learn more about the projects we are supporting Ernest called me back to Monrovia to work on a concept note for a new project which was to be submitted to the EC for funding before the end of the week. I was rather daunted by the prospect of being thrown in at the deep end but after an afternoon of brainstorming with colleagues in the Monrovia office we managed to pull it off and got the application in on time. Now we just have to wait and see if our project is short-listed, in which case we’ll submit a detailed proposal.

I’ve also been endeavouring to make new friends as quickly as possible – I’ve never been very good at being on my own! Thankfully it hasn’t been difficult and I got a good taste of Monrovia’s nightlife this weekend, being ‘forced’ to dance to some very cheesy music as well as sing karaoke. Monday was also a public holiday and I tagged along with two other NGO ex-pats for a day trip to the Bomi Lake where Pakistani peacekeepers have built a somewhat surreal artificial beach.
Well, now I’ve broken my silence and bored you all to tears I’ll sign off. I have a lot to get done, logistical issues to address (my internet connection is too slow for Scrabbulous among other things) and periodic bouts of homesickness but I’m enjoying it and looking forward to what lies ahead.

Nairobi

I finally made it to Africa. My first port of call was Nairobi where I was to attend ‘security training’ together with three colleagues. This all seemed somewhat unwise and morbidly ironic given the current situation in Kenya. Following a disputed election result, once dormant tribal rivalries had simmered to boiling point. Kenya, a country that has enjoyed years of peace and stability, was awash with reports of villages being torched, protesters being beaten and at least two opposition politicians being assassinated. Clashes all over the country and the ensuing clamp down by the authorities had claimed the lives of hundreds of people (the figure is now thought to be over a thousand) and tens of thousands of people had been displaced from their homes. By the time we arrived for our training however, the violence was concentrated in the Rift Valley. Nairobi, never the safest of cities, was unexpectedly calm. The only sign of anything out of the ordinary was the odd military aircraft flying overhead, some troops dozing in Uhuru Park and a couple of trucks laden with furniture as people fled into the city.

The security training surpassed my expectations even if it did make me think about a couple of things I would probably rather forget! Our trainers Michelle (formerly responsible for the British Government’s security in Iraq) and Rob (ex-army, almost certainly SAS but reluctant to reveal too many details) covered more or less everything that could possibly happen to us with limitless zeal and an unstoppable tirade of eccentric, and at times rather black, humour. Hopefully we’ll never have to use anything we learned (normally that would be a bad thing) but suffice to say that if I was lost in a jungle occupied by rebel guerrillas, Rob and Michelle are probably the two people who I would want to have with me! The most memorable part was the first-aid. I particularly enjoyed hooking up an IV-drip on a rubber arm complete with plastic veins and fake blood. It was probably just the relief of not having to perform the operation on each other, as Rob had initially led us to believe we would be doing!

After the training my colleagues (Sarah, Fiona and Matt) and I began to go our separate ways. We have all been assigned to different ActionAid country programmes and will be stationed on different corners of the continent. Our mission is to build each of the countries’ capacity to fundraise by applying for grants from institutions that disburse development aid money. Sarah has the unenviable task of fundraising for Somaliland, a country that doesn’t even officially exist! She will however be based in Nairobi and had already begun to install herself in her new apartment. Fiona (aka ‘Braveheart’ on account of her being Scottish but also on account of taking said film along with her on DVD) set off for Zimbabwe and 50,000% inflation leaving Matt (who will be working in Cameroon) and myself to spend the day looking at Kenya’s number one tourist attraction: big animals. Our first stop was the elephant orphanage inside Nairobi’s national park. Not wanting to miss out on the spirit of the ongoing African Nations Cup the young elephants were keen to display their football skills. After this we called in at the giraffe sanctuary. Keen not to be outdone by the football-playing elephants we were treated to the giraffes’ own party trick, namely kissing unsuspecting tourists (well, it was more like licking of the face – I was assured that giraffe saliva is antiseptic though!).

Africa here I come!

Well this is it! After all the months of waiting I'm finally flying out tonight. My first stop will be Nairobi where ActionAid has its African regional headquarters. I'm travelling with three colleagues who will all be working in the same role as me in different ActionAid offices around the continent.

The excitement and anticipation of the last few months has however suddenly given way to anxiety and nervousness. The reality of what I'm doing is finally sinking in. I'm going off to a far flung part of the world where I don't know anybody. My surroundings will be unfamiliar to say the least. Worst of all, I'll be away from Teresa, my wonderful fiancee who I've been together with for over seven years now! This is not good...

On the positive side, I'm looking forward to the new challenges that lie ahead. I'm getting to know a country I'd probably never have visited if it hadn't been for this job and I'll meet new people with very different backgorunds from my own. I'm aware all this is starting to sound rather clichéd so I'll sign off now. I'm sure I'll read this back in about a month's time and laugh!

So tell me about Liberia then

When mentioning to friends and family that I'm about to go and work in Liberia I am never quite sure what reaction to expect from them. Those with no illusions about their world geography normally just exclaim "where?", others confuse it with a Spanish Airline whereas movie lovers may well remember Nicholas Cage in Lord of War and ask exactly what line of work it is I'm actually in!

As many reading this will know I have been working for a development NGO (we're not allowed to say charity) called ActionAid for about two years at the newly established office in Stockholm. In September of last year I applied for a placement with the same organisation working in the enigmatically entitled department for "International Partnership Development". The job involves a stint working in one of our smaller offices in Africa to engage with donor agencies in order to identify (and hopefully secure) new sources of funding for our projects there.

As a country, one could say that Liberia has been through quite a bit. It was founded by the USA as a country to which freed slaves of African origin could be returned after the abolition. Apparently though nobody told the people already living there that their lands had been selected for this purpose. In 1847 Liberia declared independence and what ensued was as unbelieveable as it was unfortunate. A constitution and system of government were created based on that of the USA. However, the sense of deja vu ran much deeper that that as the newly settled Americo-Liberians did not extend citizenship or voting rights to the indigenous population. The latter were even subjected to forced labour which, considering the background of the new settlers, is more than slightly ironic.

The domination of the Americo-Liberians continued for over a century. In 1980 a coup was carried out under the command of Samuel Doe, who was of indigenous descent. However this was not the start of happier times for Liberia's population. The country was isolated by its trading partners and the economy went to ruin. In 1989 rebels led by Charles Taylor (a former minister in Doe's government) began an insurgency. The insurgents then split and another group lead by Prince Johnson soon turned the situation into a three-way civil war. Taylor's forces eventually dominated and after a series of peace accords and elections Taylor became president in 1997. Any peace was however shortlived and fighting again broke out and went on in some form or another until 2003 when Taylor was forced into exile in Nigeria. He is now on trial for war crimes in The Hague.

Decades of fighting have come at a high price, both human and financial. It is estimated that around 200,000 Liberians lost their lives during the civil wars with much of the killing carried out by child soldiers. Many more people were displaced. As well as guns, rape was often used as a weapon of war meaning HIV/AIDS is also a serious problem. Apart from the need to fully reconcile the different factions the country is in the process of more or less rebuilding itself from scratch. The capital has no power grid with generators being the only source of electricity. Roads, bridges and buildings were destroyed and the economy is a mess with around 85% unemployment and massive external debt. Most of the former combatants have no more than a basic level of schooling and so education is also top of the agenda in order to prevent people taking up arms again.

Today however people talk of a new hope in the country. In 2006 former World Bank economist, Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf became Liberia's president and with it the first democratically elected female head of state in Africa. She has already managed to achieve cancellation of a large part of Liberia's foreign debt and, it would seem, brought a new sense of optimism to a population in dire need of exactly that.

So, this is the backdrop to my work with ActionAid in Liberia. I'm feeling pretty nervous about moving to a new country where I don't know anybody and have no idea about local customs but at the same time very excited to be able to live in a place that is going through such an exciting and positive transition. If all goes according to plan I will be arriving in the capital, Monrovia, on February 2nd and be away for somewhere between 6-9 months.

Watch this space...
/Adam