Bringing Green into the Settlements and Vice Versa

August 12, 2023 2:22 pm Leave a Comment

In Nairobi’s informal settlements, arable land is scarce. Most of Shield of Faith’s project participants use the little land they have available to them to build their kitchen gardens. This often includes carving 5-liter jerry cans into vertical towers to plant spinach and other greens. While these gardens are able to meet approximately 30% of most members’ vegetable needs, other members are forced to go without due to a lack of space.

This is where Stella’s demo farm comes in.

Out in Kajiado, about one hour outside Nairobi lies Stella’s plot of land, waiting to be cultivated. While it may not look like much now, with a bit of labor this land presents huge potential. Under Stella’s guidance, Shield of Faith’s ladies will be able to drive out to this farm twice each month to tender and harvest their own crops. This demo farm has the ability to fulfill way more than 30% of members’ vegetable needs; it could fulfill all or almost all of them. As a result, the women would save exponentially on their grocery bills, diverting the money saved to pay for rent or their children’s school fees.

Another foreseen benefit of the demo farm is the capacity to grow uncommon yet highly nutritious vegetables that wouldn’t be found elsewhere in Kibera. As mentioned in one of my previous blogs, the project recently ventured into growing Chinese cabbage in one of the project participant’s communal gardens. Although hesitant to try the previously uneaten green, Shield of Faith member Vena was brave enough to take some home with her, and she loved it. By introducing members to new vegetables, the project adds vitamins and nutrients to their diets and those of their families. Also, it makes members more resilient to supply shocks of traditional crops. As I witnessed last weekend on a site visit to Kajiado, developing the demo farm will allow Shield of Faith to scale this approach.

While my fellowship and time in Nairobi have unfortunately come to an end, visiting the demo farm was a great way to finish my fellowship. As I reflected on the insights I gained from Stella and Shield of Faith’s members over the summer, I was able to visualize the future of this project. Already, each of Shield of Faith’s 20 members acts as an Environmental Ambassador in their community by conveying the benefits of composting and organic gardening to their friends and neighbors. If the women are able to bring more and more organic green vegetables into the settlements, sooner or later, those in positions of power are bound to take notice.

Stella and Iain at the future demo farm.

Working the Newport Oyster & Chowder Festival

August 2, 2023 8:40 pm Leave a Comment

As a part of my internship at Clean Ocean Access, I have helped out at a couple of community events as a “Green Team” member to help people sort their waste. On May 21st, I worked at a waste station at the Newport Oyster & Chowder Festival in Bowen’s Wharf.

This festival in particular was important for COA to be at because over ten thousand people attend it annually and around fifteen thousand oysters are shucked; a recipe for a lot of food waste.

At the waste stations, there was a recycling bin, landfill bin, compost bin, and a special bin for the oyster shells to be placed in. The oyster bins were to be collected and brought to the Nature Conservancy. From there, they let them curate in the Great Swamp, a wildlife management area in Rhode Island, for six months and then brought back to oyster farms to reuse.

From the start, the event was packed. People were flooding in and out of the wharf buying food and drinks from vendors. It was hot, loud, and people just wanted to quickly get out of the area once they were done eating.

People would quickly walk to the waste station I was at and dump everything into one bin before I could even explain to them what to do. Oftentimes, people did not even think I was there to help and they just thought I was a random girl standing next to the trash with gloves on, picking plastic bottles out of the compost bin.

So, I began to take more charge in front of the waste station, stopping people in their tracks before they could even think about throwing their waste in a bin.

This was a little more difficult than composting at my school, as we only composted food waste. Here, there were many different things that could go into the compost like cardboard and compostable cups. So, I had to be very specific when I helped people sort their waste. Instead of one quick dump that would only take 5 seconds, it often took people up to 45 seconds to thoroughly dispose of everything properly.

Some people were aggravated, and composting was the last thing they wanted to do. But others thought it was a great idea and thanked me for being there. Still, the waste was properly sorted and that is all that mattered.

When my shift was over, I walked out of Bowen’s Wharf and saw endless bins packed full of oyster shells. It was crazy to think that all of these would have been brought to the landfill if we did not help people sort out their waste. It was really cool to help out at this festival and sort waste on a bigger scale compared to my high school.

Textiles Are a Woman’s Best Friend

August 1, 2023 1:50 pm Leave a Comment

How does one seemingly mundane pillow, rug, or bedspread translate into a family’s meals for the week and a heightened position for women in the household? In Kenya, the significance of the textile industry is seen all throughout the country, from the crowded stalls in Nairobi’s Maasai Markets to the vendors lining streets along the coast. This industry has one of the highest appeals to foreigners visiting Kenya. Oftentimes, when I walk past a textile shop, I find all or almost all employees to be women. Indeed, the textile industry seems to be predominantly made up of women.

For women from low-income backgrounds, the textile industry can present more than just a source of employment. It can also present them and their families with resiliency.

I learned the significance of the textile industry for women’s economic empowerment when I visited the coastal city of Mombasa this past weekend. There, I booked a guided tour, and my tour guide Humphrey took me to the Imani Collective workshop. Humphrey explained to me the purpose of the American-backed project: to empower local female artisans through paid employment and market support. At the entrance, I saw signs with the words “This is empowerment.” Upon entering, I was surprised to see striking similarities between this project and Shield of Faith’s embroidery activities. Despite Mombasa and Nairobi being on opposite ends of the country, separated by a 6-hour long train ride, the ideas behind women’s economic empowerment are the same. There were several looms, where artisans weave cotton yarn into intricate patterns, producing all sorts of gorgeous fabrics. Just one week prior, I visited a woven textile workshop in Nairobi’s Industrial Area with Shield of Faith’s members to gauge opportunities for paid employment.

One of the looms inside the Imani Collective’s workshop in Mombasa.

Shield of Faith’s members at the woven textile workshop in Nairobi.

Seeing the success of the Imani Collective in Mombasa confirmed the fact that the textile industry does serve as a viable and sustainable source of employment for women. It also allows women to develop their skills and pay off some of their household expenses. Speaking with Shield of Faith’s members at the textile workshop, I learned that some of them have used the money generated from the project’s embroidery activities to pay their children’s school fees or buy beds for themselves and their families. Shield of Faith’s members already have strong embroidery skills. If given the chance to obtain employment in the textile industry, with the opportunities it presents, their potential is unlimited. Shield of Faith understands that. And it’s clear, from visiting the Imani Collective in Mombasa, that others around the world understand it, too.

Oh, How I Love Being a Woman

July 26, 2023 2:00 pm Leave a Comment

In honor of the Barbie movie coming out last week, I want to take the time to reflect on the power of women.

This past weekend, I accompanied Stella and Shield of Faith’s members to Nairobi’s Industrial Area, where each woman demonstrated her embroidery skills in the hope of obtaining employment in a textile company. As I sat at the table surrounded by all of these incredible women, I marveled at their sisterhood. Jokingly, a few of the ladies remarked that I was young enough to be their daughter. At that moment, I realized something. I realized that sisterhood and motherhood can coexist in female relationships. And somewhere within that nexus lies the strength to endure all.

Take Esther for example. Esther, one of Shield of Faith’s members, is simultaneously the most fearless and warm-hearted person I’ve ever met. From the day we met, she asked me to come to her house so she can cook me dinner. Esther lives in Githurai, a settlement 30 minutes northeast of Nairobi CBD. She lives alone with her three daughters, one of whom has albinism. In Kenya, mothers of children with albinism face discrimination within and outside the family. When Ruth’s aptly-named daughter Hope was born, the nurse offered to buy her. People with albinism are sometimes used in harmful rituals, and it’s possible the nurse wanted to capitalize on this seeming “opportunity.” Along with outsiders, Ruth faced discrimination from her husband and in-laws, who wrongly accused her of having an affair with a white man. At the beginning of this year, she used the money she saved up from the composting and embroidery projects to pay rent on an apartment and leave her abusive husband.

Esther and two of her daughters, who were eager to hold the composting worms.

Unfortunately, Esther’s story is very similar to the other mothers of children with albinism. They’ve all faced many challenges in life, but they’ve found solace in knowing that they aren’t alone in their experiences. The other week, Stella and I were talking about womanhood, and I remember saying that, as women, we naturally bottle things up. When we eventually make the brave choice to open up about our challenges, we often find that others have experienced similar things. Sitting at the table surrounded by all these women, I admired their solidarity, and it reminded me to use my experiences as a bridge connecting me to my fellow sisters rather than as a wall alienating me from my greatest source of strength.

In terms of Shield of Faith’s activities, the quote on the back of Rehema’s shirt (pictured below) accurately captures our mission: “The goal isn’t women making more money. The goal is more women living their lives on their own terms.”

Progress Against Plastic

July 18, 2023 3:45 pm Leave a Comment

While in the U.S. plastic grocery bags are ubiquitous in almost every household, you won’t find them here in Kenya. In 2017, the Kenyan government banned all single-use plastic carrier bags for retailers. This means that in the local QuickMart, Carrefour, or Foodplus grocery stores, your groceries are bagged in reusable shopping bags, which are sold to you at a small fee. A small price to pay for a big impact.

Unfortunately, the use of single-use plastic carrier bags did not immediately cease following the ban. According to the Kenyan government’s assessment of compliance, only 80% of individuals complied with the ban in 2019, rising to 95% in 2021. Organizations such as the Kenyan Association of Manufacturers opposed the ban on the grounds that it would eliminate jobs. Even today, you are still able to spot the plastic bags across Nairobi, as I did last Saturday in Kibera.

In Nairobi’s informal settlements, vendors are able to slip under the radar. A 2019 study found that only 30% of those interviewed in Kibera supported the ban on plastic bags, compared to 60% in the affluent Nairobi suburb of Karen. While conducting site visits to Shield of Faith members’ homes last weekend, Stella, Iain, and I stopped to purchase sugarcane from a local vendor. I was surprised to find that the vendor was using plastic carrier bags, having not seen a plastic bag since I arrived in May. Stella, unfortunately, was not surprised. She commented that bags such as the ones pictured below are often illegally brought into Kenya from neighboring Tanzania. In Kibera and the other informal settlements, these bags often end up strewn along the side of the road or in the massive waste heaps where residents dispose of their household garbage. More action is needed by all stakeholders to eliminate these bags.

Plastic bags lurk in the corner of the vendor’s cart.

The improper use and disposal of plastic bags have countless environmental consequences, with one of the most pressing being the consumption of plastic by animals and subsequent contamination of the food supply. Just this year, the Kenyan public interest group Centre for Environment Justice and Development found extremely high levels of persistent organic pollutants (POPs) in chicken eggs, with levels higher than 111 times the EU regulatory amount. Similarly, the body found that a Kenyan adult eating a chicken egg from certain hotspots, including Nairobi’s Ngara Market, “could be exposed to a dose of toxic chemicals that would exceed the EU daily safety limit for more than 250 days.”

Shield of Faith stands at the forefront of this issue by promoting a culture of recycling and proper waste management in Kibera. Making expert use of 5-litre jerry cans, formerly used to store soap or oil, Stella reuses the containers to create planter boxes and tower gardens for growing fruits and vegetables. In fact, most of Shield of Faith’s members reuse 5-litre jerry cans in their gardens one way or another. With such high demand among Shield of Faith’s 20 members, Stella purchases empty jerry cans from local restaurant owners and housekeepers, thus inviting them into the project as indirect beneficiaries. Gradually, each one of the project’s direct and indirect beneficiaries becomes more conscious of their plastic use and encourages recycling in their own households and those of their neighbors. One restaurant owner in Kibera, Quinter, saves up her jerry cans for Stella to purchase. In the end, Quinter earns a few hundred shillings, Stella gets her jerry cans, and plastic that would have likely been dumped in Kibera’s trash heaps is instead used to grow something beautiful.

Shield of Faith member Vena with her plastic garden.

Project Elimu, an NGO dance center for children in Kibera and one of Shield of Faith’s partners, also gardens with reused plastic jerry cans.

The Many Faces of Nairobi’s Informal Settlements

July 11, 2023 11:52 am 1 Comment

Few people are familiar with Nairobi, let alone its informal settlements (or “slums,” what have you). For those who do have some knowledge of Nairobi, it’s likely they’ve heard of Kibera. Famously known as the “biggest slum in Africa,” this informal settlement has a population of a quarter of a million people. Its homes are constructed out of sheet metal and mud, and its residents lack any sort of formal rights to their land. Many of these families have been essentially “squatting” on the land for generations.

What many people fail to realize, however, is that Nairobi has over 150 informal settlements, all without government services. Kibera, as the settlement with the biggest population, naturally attracts attention from foreign donors. Over 300 NGOs are currently operating in Kibera.

Compare this to the informal settlement of Huruma, and the picture is vastly different. Between 2000 and 2020, population density in Huruma increased faster than in Kibera with 766.98 residents per hectare compared to 475.27. The result of this surge in population density is overcrowding in Huruma’s decrepit multi-story cement buildings, where families fill single-room homes with no running water. Arguably, these housing structures are more dangerous than the single-story sheet metal homes constructed in Kibera. In 2016, an apartment building in Huruma collapsed, killing 52 people. The building owner had rented out 100 rooms, even though the government declared the building unfit to live in. This is all to say that in Nairobi’s other informal settlements, living conditions are just as bad, and in some cases even worse. Yet, they fail to attract a fraction of Kibera’s donor attention.

Walking behind Iain and Stella in Huruma.

Having lived in Huruma for 10 years, Shield of Faith member Ruth occupies a small one-room apartment with her children. On Sunday, Ruth invited me, Stella, and AP’s Executive Director Iain into her home and shared her story with us. Upon entering the building, we each had to turn on our phone flashlights to navigate the dark and narrow stairwell up to the fourth floor. Every day, Ruth walks up and down these stairs carrying 20L containers of water, which she has to purchase for 10 Kenyan shillings, the equivalent of 7 US cents. She admitted that it was a hard life, but she was grateful to us for coming to witness her everyday experience. I will forever be grateful to Ruth and her daughter Sharon for opening their hearts and their home to us.

Ruth (right) showing us the tote bag she made with an original piece of embroidery.

While not each of Kibera’s 300 NGOs is efficient (I’ve heard complaints that they aren’t), the fact that they’re there says something. These NGOs have the potential to impact the lives of someone like Ruth, but we won’t know until or unless something changes about the NGO landscape across Nairobi’s informal settlements.

Diversifying Diets in Kibera

July 3, 2023 4:35 am 2 Comments

Before Stella Makena kickstarted Shield of Faith’s gardening and composting project in the Kibera informal settlement, many of the project’s members had never heard of, let alone tasted, Chinese cabbage and strawberries. Today, their gardens are producing these fruits and vegetables in bounty.

In Kibera, where food insecurity is high, many of the settlement’s residents rely on whatever produce they can afford at the numerous informal produce stands or at Toi Market. In this open-air space, hundreds of vendors compete to sell produce, second-hand clothes, and even furniture. Unfortunately, this market recently suffered from an electrical fire just over three weeks ago. One trader reported to Kenya’s Pulselive media outlet that a little over 3,000 stalls were razed in the fire. Not only did this deeply affect all of the vendors in the market, thus leaving a deep scar on the settlement’s informal economy, but it also meant that those who relied on the market to purchase their fruits and vegetables now had to seek alternative, and sometimes more expensive, sources.

By providing 20 single mothers from Nairobi’s informal settlements with the equipment and the support needed to grow and harvest their own produce, Shield of Faith helps mitigate the effects of food insecurity on the project’s participants. Also, it introduces the women to new fruits and vegetables, which add different nutrients to their diets and those of their families. As women are often primarily responsible for feeding the children, not only in Kibera but in the world, the addition of nutrient-rich and diversified produce into their households translates into a nutrient-rich diet for their children.

To illustrate, a few weeks ago Stella and I met with Eunice, one of Shield of Faith’s members, at her residence in Kibera, where she maintains a communal garden for the project. On that day, the three of us harvested several colossal bunches of gorgeous green Chinese cabbage. This was Eunice’s first time growing the crop, and it was an enormous success. As the garden is communal, Stella and I shared the harvest with several of the project’s other members. Living just down the street from Eunice, Vena took home one of the bunches of Chinese cabbage. She was a little hesitant to take some home, at first, because she had never cooked or tasted the vegetable before. However, Stella was quickly able to assuage her worries, and a week later, Vena reported back that she loved the cabbage! Now, Vena, Eunice, and the other ladies have more choices for vegetables, and home-grown vegetables at that. This leaves the women less vulnerable to the market’s volatility.

Stella (left) and Eunice (right) triumphantly holding the massive Chinese cabbages.

On Friday, Roba, a caretaker of the communal garden and indirect beneficiary of the project, harvested the first of many strawberries in Kibera. Packed with vitamins and nutrients, this little berry is a testament to the project members’ ingenuity, perseverance, and blooming self-reliance.

Roba with our mighty strawberry!

Fight to the Finish

June 26, 2023 10:19 am 2 Comments

Do you recall the excitement from watching a favorite childhood movie in which the underdogs race against the clock, defy all odds, and somehow manage to triumph? Well, that’s what happened this week here in Nairobi. Unfortunately, we learned on Saturday that Merry, one of our key players in the sewing training, tested positive for COVID-19. Although her symptoms were very minimal, this meant she had to self-isolate and miss the first two days of our four-day training session. Bobbi, Stella, and I were all at a loss for words! Our goal of completing 25 tote bags for the online store, Southern Stitchers, now seemed impossible.

Despite this major setback, Bobbi, Stella, and I set our sights on making the training as smooth as possible. We even had a breakthrough on Monday when we met with Gladys, founder of a woven textile company, to see how she could use our ladies’ embroidery talents on her products and thus provide the ladies with a consistent source of income. The three of us met with Gill, AP’s quilting consultant here in Nairobi, to visit Gladys’s warehouse. We were all immediately impressed! I, for one, had never seen weaving equipment quite like this. I’m not even sure I’ve ever seen weaving equipment! Gladys’s aptitude for business was evident in her advanced operation. Needless to say, her products were beautiful! From the meeting, Gladys conveyed that she was seeking local embroiderers who can add to her fabrics. This would be an incredible opportunity for the Kangemi and Kibera ladies, who normally live on a hand-to-mouth basis. We expect more meetings to follow, but we hope our local colleagues can now take the lead!

One of the 14 looms in Gladys’s warehouse.

We commenced the second and final week of sewing training on Wednesday. In compliance with the CDC’s updated COVID-19 guidelines, Merry was isolated for five days, which meant we had to start without her. This was nerve-racking! Fortunately, all the ladies made it through the sewing machine on the first day, so they were able to get familiar with the machine. On Day 2, I knew Bobbi would need all the help she could get! All the ladies now had to make their pockets to later sew onto their bags. Even though I hadn’t touched a sewing machine in 10 years, I was happy to learn that using a sewing machine is much like riding a bike. Once you learn, it’s hard to forget! I closely watched Bobbi as she demonstrated how to sew the pockets so that I could assist others. I was so proud of myself when I successfully sewed a pocket along with my friend Esther!

Esther and I are proud of our creation!

Luckily, Merry was feeling well enough to join us masked on Friday. This was great because we needed her skills! Friday was big because we had to get all the pockets and straps sewn onto the bags. By the end of the day, we weren’t even halfway through. Our goal was starting to seem more and more out of reach! To top it all off, we learned late on Friday night that we had to be out of the venue by 2 pm on Saturday, which is several hours earlier than we were expecting. At that point, we truly needed a miracle to finish all the bags.

On Saturday morning, Bobbi, Merry, and I resigned ourselves to the fact that we were probably only going to be able to get a handful of bags finished. As the day went on, however, it became clear that the miracle we were all praying for was coming true. The ladies were all powering through the sewing machines! I even had to make a quick trip to the shopping center for more thread. By the end of the day, we had finished all but one of the bags for a grand total of 17! We now had 33 bags altogether, surpassing our goal of 25. This truly shows what the determination of a strong group of women can accomplish!

Smiling because we beat the odds and surpassed our goal!

After a long two weeks of sewing training, I’m happy to now have the time to catch my breath, catch up on emails, and write my blogs. On Sunday, I even had the opportunity to celebrate my 22nd birthday Kenyan-style here in Nairobi. I couldn’t have asked for a better way to celebrate my birthday: surrounded by friends, great food, and a lively atmosphere. Today is Bobbi’s and Merry’s last day here in Nairobi, and I’m going to miss their company. Hopefully, by the time I see them next, I’ll have mastered the basic embroidery stitches and have progressed to more complex designs. Time can only tell!

Me, Bobbi, Merry, and Stella right before enjoying some much-deserved Chinese food on Saturday night.

The Contents of My Pocket

June 19, 2023 11:09 am 1 Comment

It’s Tuesday afternoon, June 13th. I’m standing in Eunice’s garden in Kibera. I reach into my jacket pocket and I pull out a handful of organic green peppers and pink and purple embroidery floss. The gentle Kenyan breeze carries the sweet smell of supper cooking throughout the settlement. Life is good.

Now why might these two seemingly different items be in my pocket, you might ask? It’s because both of these items- in their own unique and special ways- make a difference in the lives of women. The photo above expertly captures the intersection of the two projects AP is implementing in Nairobi this summer. A little over a week ago, Bobbi, AP’s Quilt Coordinator, and Merry, an AP Board Member and quilting guru, arrived here in Nairobi for three weeks of embroidery and sewing training! I spent this past week with a group of approximately 20 women from the informal settlement Kangemi and watched as Merry and Bobbi demonstrated how to use sewing machines. Despite embroidering (or hand-sewing) for several years and having mastered the skill, for many of the women it was their first time using a sewing machine. And for me, it was my first time embroidering! While Merry led the way on the machines, the ladies taught me a few basic embroidery stitches. This gave me an opportunity to get to know the ladies and their motivations for joining the group.

The embroidered blocks and bags produced by the women this past week will be sold on AP’s online store, Southern Stitchers, to generate income for the women. However, the project doesn’t only support these women financially. From this week of training, it was clear to me that the project also fosters a strong sense of community, into which I was very warmly welcomed.

Me and my friend Elizabeth on our final day of training!

After a long and tiring first day of training, I met up with Stella to conduct a site visit in Kibera for Shield of Faith, AP’s composting partner. We went to check up on Verna’s and Eunice’s gardens and make sure the vegetables were all growing healthy and strong. Unfortunately, a few of Verna’s plants were struggling, but with some TLC and the 25 liters of Lishe-Grow she has on hand, her garden will be looking as good as new! As for Eunice’s garden, her massive Chinese cabbages were ready for harvest. I ended up bringing home some of this cabbage as well as lots of spring onions! Verna also took home some of this cabbage and loved it! As the 20 women in Shield of Faith are the primary project participants, it’s so important that they enjoy the foods that they produce. This way, they save a few shillings on their grocery bills, and they incorporate more organic foods into theirs and their family’s diets.

So, as you can see, the contents of my pocket- embroidery floss and peppers- aren’t so different after all. In the context of AP’s work, both of these items contribute to women’s economic empowerment. At the end of the day, us women are more than just gardeners or embroiderers, so it’s important that we are supported in more ways than one.

Me, Bobbi, and Merry exhausted after a long first day of training!

Cry of the Crashing Metals

June 11, 2023 10:07 am Leave a Comment

Rajan was having a happy day. After a long time, he was going back to meet his wife Sudipta. As a technician at Fortis Hospital, Kolkata he rarely found the time to go back to Tamil Nadu to meet his family. But it was a special occasion. It was their third marriage anniversary, and he had planned to surprise Sudipta by coming home.

Rajan had bought a beautiful dress and her favorite sweet from Kolkata. Thinking of the reaction Sudipta would have from seeing him, Rajan tingled with excitement. And he had to be honest, being so far from her was tough. They had cried when he had left. Still, he had to make enough money so that the family could break bread. Sitting by the window with a gentle breeze wafting in, it would only be a matter of a few hours before he reached home.

Twisting off the cap of the cold bottle of water he had bought on the train to beat the extreme heat, he took a few gulps to cool himself down and placed the bottle on the table next to the window. A few seconds later the train went over a bump and the bottle fell. As Rajan leaned forward to pick up the bottle, he felt the train oscillate violently. Somehow managing to keep his balance, he clenched the window railing with a tight grip.

Unaware of what had just happened, but aware that the oscillations were increasing, Rajan felt as if the train was about to roll off the rails. Frightened, he stuck his face out of the window, and tried to see what was happening. Numbness engulfed his body as he saw the Grim Reaper staring at him from the edge of the cargo train that was about to collide with Rajan’s train.

The road of the trains hitting each other stilled the buzz of the busy people circling the station. Suddenly air filled with smoke and agonizing cries rang out. The accident was so massive that the crowd seemed frozen – unable to think of any action to help the victims. Rajan himself was lying on the track with a partially fractured cranium, looking at the box of sweets that was burning in front of his eyes. As he began to lose consciousness, he hoped that his life wasn’t over yet. As the thought played in his mind he heard an increasing gabble from the crowd. He turned his head slowly and saw another train racing towards him.

Indian Railways is the most accessible form of transportation available to India’s large population. Being easy and affordable to those who cannot afford other options, the railways are a boon. The shaking compartments hold many people with aspirations, emotions, sentiments, and hope. But what happens when the vehicle of hope falls into a web of death? When the boon becomes a curse? One such curse happened in the heartland of Odisha on 2nd June 2023 when three trains collided with each other at Bahanaga Baazar Station, Balasore.

A freight train was stationed on a loop of track. People were tapping their feet as they stood at the station. Trains were coming back and forth. It seemed like a general day. But what happened next drenched the day with the blood of many innocent people.

Train 12841, the Coromandel Express (a flagship train of the Indian Railways) was traveling from Shalimar Express with almost 1,300 people on board on its way to Tamil Nadu. The train started at 3:20 pm and was scheduled to reach Coromandel at 4:35 pm – 25 hours. But fate had other plans. Another train traveling from Yashwantpur to Howrah, train 12864 with around 1200 passengers, started its journey at 10:35 am. It was scheduled to arrive at 8:00 pm but was delayed by 3 hours. Both trains were scheduled to pass through Balasore. The way they met causes a shiver to run down the spine.

Racing along at 130 KM an hour, the Coromandel Express was not scheduled to stop at Bahanga. The passing winds caressed the metal body when a few compartment cars slipped at the Bahanaga Station, causing the train to lose its balance and jump from the track. The unstable train then ran into the freight train that was in the middle of the track, causing passengers to jump off the train and save their threatened lives.

Local people who were watching in shock were about to lend a hand when the Yashantwapur Express (which was unaware of the crash at the station for technical reasons) slammed into the metal bodies of the two trains that has collided. The lives of approximately 250 people ended in pain and trauma in a fraction of a minute.

The entire scene looked like a canvas of burning red, with black crusty smoke wafting up into the air. When night fell the number of deaths stood at 30, with 400 injured. But as the sun came up the number had risen to 300 deaths and more than 900 injured. Local people looked on in disbelief. They were unable to describe the incident but their eyes spoke of the horror they had witnessed. Debris had been flung 500 meters from the accident. Rail lines had pierced through the compartments of the train.

Was it an accident? Who is to blame? Should the government be responsible for the death toll? There are many questions to be answered. However, the real question remains – what will those answers be worth? The answers will not bring back the lives of the dead or heal the injured people lying on hospital beds trying to reach out to their families. They will never erase the trauma that lingers in the hearts of the victims or the many others who travel every day in trains.

But in every spectrum of black, there is a strand of light. Just after the accident was reported, many people from across Odisha state joined hands and came to help. Crowds stood outside hospitals the entire night, standing patiently to donate blood and assist victims. The queues were longer than the train itself. People selflessly arrived with food, health kits, and relief kits. When the news reached everyone in India and beyond, on the morning of 3rd June 2023, the response was overwhelming.

There comes a time when humanity is put to the test and June 2 was one such day. Two trains full of people from different states, religions, gender, and castes suffered from a tragedy they never thought possible. People from different states, countries, religions, and ethnicities came forward to help.

In such moments it feels as if we humans are not as cruel and self-centered as we are made out to be. Somewhere between our race with time and hunger for money lives a selfless child who sheds a tear over the sorrow of others. Somewhere among the voices of hatred and despair lives a gentle murmur of hope.

Competing Visions Undermine the Resettlement of Afghans in the US

August 25, 2022 6:19 pm Leave a Comment

Competing Visions Undermine the Resettlement of Afghans in the US

An investigation by The Advocacy Project into the resettlement of Afghan refugees in the state of Maryland, a year after the fall of Kabul

By Iain Guest

Creative assistance: Jenna Whitney hosts a sale of Afghan rugs at her home to support a start-up by Afghan refugees

Earlier this year, during a visit to Baltimore, Jenna Whitney came face to face with the challenge confronting Afghan refugees who had been airlifted to the US after the fall of Kabul on August 15 last year. She found it deeply disturbing.

Ms Whitney, a former US government contractor who lives near Annapolis, Maryland, was among scores of concerned Marylanders who visited Afghan families after their arrival in the state from US army bases, following their harrowing escape from Afghanistan.

The refugees were initially placed in two hotels near BWI Airport by the International Rescue Committee (IRC), one of three nongovernmental agencies hired by the US government to resettle Afghans refugees in Maryland.

After several missions to the hotels to deliver clothes, mobile phones and food, Ms Whitney made her way to the Renaissance Plaza, an apartment block where some of the families had been placed by the IRC after leaving the hotels.

Here she encountered two sisters, Samira I, 24 and her sister Mina, 17. Samira had worked for an NGO in Afghanistan and told Ms Whitney that she and Mina had been moved into the building by the IRC in December. They had no knowledge of the neighborhood, which is considered unsafe by many locals, and were taunted when they went out in search of food. Terrified, the sisters returned to the apartment where they stayed for the next month, relying on Afghan men in the building to visit shops on their behalf.

When Ms Whitney visited the apartment, she found it filthy and bare of furniture except for two beds, a couch and a table. The sisters did not have an assigned IRC caseworker. Mina had not been enrolled in school, as required by federal government regulations. Ms Whitney later wrote: “Samira cried in my arms that day and said that she often wondered if she would have been better off staying in Afghanistan and letting the Taliban kill her.”

Ms Whitney moved the two sisters out of the apartment, at their request, and into her own home. She was further incensed to learn that the IRC had withheld $2,450 given by the US Department of State to cover the basic needs of the sisters during the first 90 days after their arrival.

Shortly after they moved, an IRC official visited the sisters and told them that the IRC had spent $5,191.92 on their rent, furniture and mobile phones, before asking Samira to sign off on the summary. Feeling pressured, Samira declined and took a screenshot of the document which she shared with Ms Whitney.

On February 9, Ms Whitney filed a lawsuit against IRC through a law firm in Baltimore, demanding that the $2,450 be given to the sisters.

In early March Ruben Chandrasekar, the IRC director in Baltimore, wrote to Ms Whitney accusing her and other volunteers in East Baltimore of rejecting the IRC’s offer of collaboration, ignoring the confidentiality of the refugees and “sending repeated messages to various IRC staff and leadership via email and text message, including by utilizing our clients’ personal phones, with accusations, gross factual distortions, and inappropriate demands.”

The letter continued: “These actions and communications do nothing to further the goals I believe we share regarding the successful integration of these new Afghan community members in Maryland.”

The letter ended by asking Ms Whitney not to contact the IRC office again. Other volunteers who work with Ms Whitney and were interviewed for this article said that IRC caseworkers had been instructed not to answer their calls. Meanwhile lawyers for the IRC have rejected Ms Whitney’s lawsuit and denied her charges.

The Two Visions

Jeanette Sudano (right) founder of Heart For Refugees and Jenna Whitney deliver kitchen utensils to a refugee family at the Renaissance Plaza apartment complex in Baltimore

Ms Whitney’s encounter with the two sisters, and her dispute with the IRC, have come to light during an investigation by The Advocacy Project (AP) into the resettlement of Afghan refugees in Maryland a year after the fall of Kabul on August 15, 2021.

AP supported a program to educate girls in Afghanistan between 2003 and 2010 and criticized the Biden Administration’s precipitous departure from Afghanistan. We met or talked to 21 volunteers or professionals who have worked with refugees in Maryland and Virginia, and with 13 refugees or families in preparation for this article.

Many agreed that the tensions between the IRC and volunteers in Baltimore have exposed two starkly differing visions about the role of communities in resettling refugees in the US, and that this has major implications for resettlement in the future.

Volunteers praised Ms. Whitney’s passion, hard work and commitment. Jeanette Sudano, a co-founder of Heart for Refugees, a community association in Maryland that has spent thousands of dollars raised by Ms Whitney, called her a “rock star.”

But others described volunteers like Ms Whitney and Ms Sudano as “well-meaning meddlers” who have refused to acknowledge the pressures placed on agencies by the largest and most difficult resettlement effort undertaken by the US in recent years.

One official at the Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR), a program at the Department of Health and Human Services that funds long-term resettlement programs said bluntly: “These folks don’t have a role in the resettlement process.”

Others said that Ms Whitney’s lawsuit shows a misunderstanding about the money that was withheld by the IRC to cover the sisters’ rent. Funding for the first 90 days of resettlement, known as Reception and Placement, is given to the resettlement agencies by the Bureau of Population, Refugees and Migration (PRM) at the Department of State to cover the basic needs of refugees, including housing. It is not given directly to the refugees themselves, even though it is often referred to as “welcome money.”

AP made multiple efforts to reach IRC staff in Maryland but with two exceptions our emails and calls were not answered. An advance copy of this article was shared with the agency.

Unprecedented Challenge

Adding to the trauma: Many Afghan refugees were separated from their families at Kabul airport in August 2021

The Biden Administration dubbed the airlift and resettlement of Afghan refugees “Operation Allies Welcome.” Asked to assess its success over the past year almost everyone interviewed for this article began by describing the challenge as “unprecedented.”

The process was harrowing for the refugees themselves. Many arrived deeply traumatized after being plucked from a war zone and exposed to chaos and violence at Kabul airport. Most spoke no English and had no knowledge of their new country beyond what they had learned from working with Americans in Afghanistan.

Adding to the stress, many had been separated from their families. Samira and Mina I, who met with Ms Whitney at the Baltimore apartment, are from a family of eight sisters. One sister is now in Oregon, two are in Russia and the remaining three are in Kabul with their parents.

The size and speed of the evacuation was certainly unprecedented. The US airlifted over 72,000 Afghans to the US in the months following the fall of Kabul – compared to the 11,411 refugees admitted to the US in 2021 through the normal resettlement process and a similar number in 2020.

One US government official described this as a “massive, massive undertaking.” The closest recent parallel, she said, occurred during the Obama Administration when the resettlement agencies received approximately 3,500 Syrians a week for two months. For Operation Allies Welcome, in contrast, approximately 4,000 Afghans arrived each week over five months.

Myat Lin, who heads the Maryland Office for Refugees and Asylees (MORA), said that his state had accepted 2,032 Afghans in the Fall of 2021 and that this had placed an enormous strain on housing in particular. Rents were sky-high and the vacancy rate in Baltimore apartment buildings stood at just 2% during the pandemic, he said.

Adding to the challenge, Maryland had almost no Afghan community before August last year according to Manizha Azizi, a former refugee from Afghanistan who now works for Homes Not Borders, a nonprofit that provides refugees with home furnishings. This absence of a prior “Afghan footprint” in Maryland robbed the new arrivals of a support system that has proved critically important in helping other refugees adapt to American culture.

Operation Allies Welcome also put pressure on the nine nongovernmental agencies, including the IRC, that were contracted by the Department of State to manage the resettlement of the refugees.

The IRC has worked in many of the world’s hotspots, including Afghanistan, and has long been a mainstay of the US resettlement program. According to a guest editorial on February 22 in the Baltimore Sun by Mr Chandrasekar, the IRC director in Maryland, the agency has resettled over 15,000 refugees in the US during the past twenty years.

Experts agreed that the agencies were ill-prepared for the arrival of so many Afghans in such a short space of time. The Trump Administration had drastically reduced the number of refugees coming to the US and this, combined with the pandemic, forced agencies to lay off experienced staff and sever contacts with key community partners like rental agencies.

“I am sympathetic to the IRC,” said Susan Krehbiel, who has worked with asylum cases and refugees since the 1980s and helps Presbyterian congregations connect with refugee programs for the Presbytery of Baltimore. “You cannot just go back and hire people – they’ve moved on.”

The agencies were dealing with “numbers you haven’t seen in decades and trying to create a program in the midst of chaos,” even as the refugees were arriving in the US, said Ms Krehbiel. “It was not even clear which services (the refugees) would receive.”

Mr Chandrasekar acknowledged the challenges facing the IRC in his February 22 Op-ed and asked for “patience and understanding of the scale and complexity of this operation.”

An Offer Is Rejected

Alone in a new culture: Afghan women find it particularly difficult to adapt to life the US, find friends and work

In spite of the unprecedented nature of Operation Allies Welcome, several people interviewed for this article said the IRC had rebuffed their offer of help during the early days of the crisis.

In August 2021, IRC officials met with several NGOs in the Baltimore area that did not receive federal funding to resettle Afghan refugees but had years of experience in providing essential services to vulnerable immigrants.

The organizations included Esperanza, a Catholic agency that works with undocumented immigrants from Latin America; the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR), America’s largest Muslim civil rights and advocacy group; Luminus, a community network that worked with refugees in Howard County of Maryland; and the Baltimore Presbytery.

Susan Krehbiel, who attended on behalf of the Baltimore Presbytery, said that the organizations hoped to find volunteers who could complement the IRC’s efforts at the hotels and agreed that any volunteers would have to receive screening and training. “At the same time, we were urging the IRC to embrace more collaborative ways of engaging the community, including leveraging our relationships and outreach,” she said.

Ms Krehbiel said the discussions proved largely fruitless. “We were going back and forth about the independence of IRC and we decided at the end of the day that the refugees were more important than the public perception of the IRC,” she said. “The only concrete support we were able to offer through the IRC were 40 sets of kitchen supplies for families to cook while staying at the hotels.”

Rebuffed by the IRC, the organizations continued their own efforts, and the Presbytery used its community connections to secure medical attention for several of the families at the hotels, including pregnant women and some newborns. Many volunteers from that period have continued to support many of the Afghans in Baltimore with social events, including an Eid celebration last May, said Ms Krehbiel.

The organizations also pooled their efforts and delegated to Luminus, which expanded its work to the Baltimore area and set up a new project, the Afghan Alliance of Maryland, to work with the new arrivals under Shakera Rahimi, a widely respected former OBGYN in Afghanistan.

Several volunteers told AP that they had also offered their services to the IRC and been rejected. Bob Cooke, a retired unionist in Gaithersburg, had helped to organize an interfaith group to assist Syrian refugees in the US in 2016 and gained valuable experience and contacts with the Muslim community in Maryland.

Mr Cooke said that he approached the IRC when the Afghans began to arrive in August 2021 and met several times with IRC staff in Baltimore. In the end, his team decided to offer their services to the Ethiopian Community Development Council (ECDC), the smallest of the three resettlement agencies working with Afghans in Maryland.

“They (the ECDC) were looking for the most help,” said Mr Cooke. “They knew they couldn’t do it themselves. They were a lot more honest.” The IRC, in contrast, “argued that they had everything under control and wanted to do everything exactly their way. They didn’t want to give any latitude towards people like us.”

Ms Whitney said she also approached the IRC and was asked to sign up as an IRC volunteer, attend IRC training, sign a confidentiality agreement and agree to a background check, all of which would take several weeks. “It just didn’t make sense while Afghan women were delivering babies and could not get to the hospital,” she said.

Asked to comment, Ms Krehbiel said that the IRC had made a mistake in treating the arrival of Afghans as business as usual instead of the unprecedented crisis it clearly was, and trying to “adapt traditional methods to a non-traditional” emergency. She noted that the IRC had even failed to set up a satellite office at the extended stay hotels in Baltimore, where the Afghans first arrived. This could have avoided much of the early bad publicity and opened up a dialogue with volunteers.

“I will say this,” said Ms Krehbiel. “Government does not integrate people. Case workers do not integrate people. Programs don’t integrate people. Only communities can integrate people in their community.”

The Family Teams

Kathy Hays, left, is part of a team working with a family of fifteen refugees near Annapolis. Here she savors the cooking of Lala, 73 (right)

Ms Whitney herself has continued to expose what she sees as examples of “neglect and incompetence” and in the process turned into an advocate for greater transparency and accountability in the resettlement system.

But she has also played a less confrontational role as a coordinator for over 100 volunteers who have formed 27 teams to support Afghan families in the Baltimore area. Funding has come from team members, from churches and from Ms Whitney, who has raised $24,522 through gofundme and another $60,000 through corporate donations.

During a series of meetings with AP in recent weeks, Ms Whitney explained that the team model contrasts sharply with the traditional approach of resettlement agencies. Agency caseworkers are assigned multiple refugee families and are backed up by volunteers who go thorough IRC background checks and training, she said. Their focus is essentially short-term. Teams, in contrast, are groups of friends who offer a range of services and skills to individual refugee families for as long as is required.

Like other team members who spoke to AP, Ms Whitney said that her own motivation was deeply personal and tinged with a sense of guilt. “I can’t turn away,” she said. “They’re coming to our country. We invited them here. It’s not like they’re being smuggled across the border. These are people we told them we would take care of, and we’re not.”

Ms Whitney’s experience with the sisters has also convinced her that the resettlement system can demean refugees by viewing them as clients dependent on services. “It feels sort of sub-human,” she said. “These are proud people.”

Ms Whitney said that the Baltimore teams are modeled on Arlington Neighbors Welcoming Afghans (ANWA), a network established by Ryan Alvis, a former Marine who served in Afghanistan and also felt the need to respond when she first met Afghan refugees at the hotels. “It was all about survival back then,” said Ms Alvis in a phone call with AP.

The ANWA network has made extensive use of social media to reach out to members and the ANWA Facebook page today has more than 1,900 friends. Ms Whitney has followed ANWA’s example and posts regularly on Facebook and Amazon lists, seeking everything from blenders to sanitary pads.

One major advantage of the team approach is a deep understanding of the communities where refugees will settle said Bob Cooke, who helped to launch the New Neighbors Interfaith Alliance (NNIA), a network of interfaith organizations in Gaithersburg to work with Afghan refugees. The alliance has supported 20 refugee families since January and raised over $70,000 from about 100 private donors. It is run by seven volunteers, including Mr Cooke, and does not have any formal legal status.

As well as roots in the community, Mr Cooke said that his group has considerable expertise because many members are retired with successful careers behind them and time on their hands. Many of their skills are also complementary, and this allows the team to provide integrated support and address multiple needs.

This was echoed by Hilary Smalley, one of three friends who coordinate a team in support of two Afghan brothers and their families in Glen Burnie, Maryland. Ms Smalley credited Ms Whitney with “lighting the spark” by alerting her to the crisis at the Baltimore hotels when they were in a running class together, and she helped form the team in March. A nurse by training, Ms Smalley covers the family’s medical needs. Another volunteer handles schools. Others help by driving and organizing events, from baby showers to picnics.

The connections enjoyed by community teams allow them to locate refuge families that are in trouble and respond quickly, said Minoo Tavakoli, who escaped from Iran with her family during the revolution in 1985 and went on to head the computer department at the Columbia School of Business before retiring.

Ms Tavakoli started a support group for the Afghan refugees in 2021 with three other Iranian-American friends and said she has probably helped “hundreds” of Afghans in the months since. She has invested almost $10,000 of her own money and said that her knowledge of Farsi made it easier to communicate with the refugees. Language is a significant barrier to their successful integration, she said.

As their friendships with the refugees have deepened, so has the teams’ understanding of the resettlement challenges, and this has allowed them to be creative in their response. In April Ms Whitney organized a sale of Afghan rugs at her house and commissioned food for the event from a family of 15 that includes Lala A, 73, an excellent cook. Lala’s dishes proved so successful that the family wants to open a food truck.

Often, team members respond with acts of simple kindness. Aware that Samira I was lonely, Ms Whitney took her on a tour of museums in Washington with another young refugee woman, Shogofa S, whose parents were killed by the Taliban in a bomb attack and was also pining for her siblings in Afghanistan.

AP came across many other such examples during this research. Amy Springer, a teacher who has taken over coordination of the Arlington Neighbors Welcoming Afghans, makes a point of taking toys for refugee children whenever she visits a family. Heart for Refugees recently organized a picnic for scores of refugees which enabled Afghan men to reunite with friends they had known back in Afghanistan. Ms Azizi from Homes Not Borders described the event as “cool” and said it had helped to build the Afghan “footprint” in Maryland.

Collaboration Between Family Teams and the Agencies

Acts of kindness: Amy Springer, from the ANWA network of teams in Virginia, delivers a bike to an Afghan family in Manassas. Ms Springer delivers a toy for children every time she visits refugees

Not all resettlement agencies view the independence of the refugee support teams as a threat.

The smallest of the three agencies in Maryland, the Ethiopian Community Development Council (ECDC), has supported around 350 Afghans in Maryland since August 2021 and welcomes volunteers because they contribute towards the complete integration of refugees, said Katherine Stockton-Juarez, the agency’s volunteer coordinator.

ECDC was established in 1983 to raise support for refugees from Ethiopia among Ethiopians living in the US and this focus on the receiving communities “sets us apart from other agencies,” she said. It also requires a long-term, open-ended commitment.

Ms Stockton-Juarez said that ECDC works with about 135 volunteers and supports several initiatives that enable volunteers to contribute on their own terms. Ten are participating in First Friends, a program that encourages volunteers to build open-ended friendships with refugees. Another program works with “support groups” that help refugee families and often comprise churches.

Earlier this year, ECDC launched a new pilot project (“co-sponsorships”) to work with teams and asked the New Neighbors Interfaith Alliance in Gaithersburg to sponsor the first family. Bob Cooke, an Alliance coordinator, had worked with ECDC during the Syrian refugee crisis. He told AP that the new assignment was significantly different from the earlier collaboration, when his group had taken over from ECDC after the initial 90 days. When it came to the Afghans, he said, ECDC asked the Alliance to assume the entire range of services (“the whole nine yards!”) from the start.

Asked whether surrendering authority to the teams represented a risk, Ms Stockton-Juarez agreed that “rogue” volunteers can offer inappropriate support and even lead to the “scamming” of refugees. But she vets the teams carefully in advance, checks in every two weeks and is ready to intervene if she hears complaints or sees signs of “microaggression” in the way team members address the refugees. She has encountered no problems so far and the ECDC now has seven teams working as co-sponsors.

Others interviewed for this article said that community-based organizations act as a bridge between resettlement agencies on the one hand, and communities on the other. One example is Homes Without Borders, which has provided 420 refugee families with beds, mattresses and home furnishings since August last year, according to Laura Thompson Osuri, the organization’s founder.

Over 80% of the families have been Afghans and most were referred by agencies, including the IRC, she said: “We love the IRC and they love us.”

While it works with the IRC, Homes Not Borders also has deep roots in the community, explained Ms Azizi, family service manager for the organization. Ms Azizi came to the US as a refugee at the age of five and well remembers the difficulties that faced her own parents in adapting to their new culture. This has given her an acute sense of the challenge facing the new wave of Afghans and her job gives her latitude to explore innovative approaches that include cooking and embroidery.

Ms Azizi also serves on the board of two organizations, the Afghan Alliance at Luminus and the Immigrant Refugee and Outreach Center which also allows her to deepen the Afghan footprint in Maryland.

There is wide agreement that these and other organizations will be critical as the resettlement effort enters the second year. As well as contacts, they offer specialist services that address the needs of vulnerable families that might miss out on government funding after the initial 90 days of Reception and Placement. This is examined in further detail below.

Damaging Fallout

Hilary Smalley (left) and Nancy Plaxico, active members of a family team, organized a hike at the Patapsco State Park for their two refugee families

The success of ECDC and Homes Without Borders in working with communities has left many frustrated at the lack of collaboration between the IRC and the volunteer teams in Baltimore. This, they said, is doing real damage.

One concern is rent, which is the single largest expense facing refugees during and after the first 90 days. Most of the 27 families supported by the teams in Baltimore were able to pay their rent during the 90 days through a combination of the federal subsidy (the so-called “welcome money”) and money raised by Ms Whitney and the teams.

But refugees expressed anxiety and uncertainty over what happened next. The lack of communications between IRC caseworkers and volunteers has done nothing to allay their concerns.

In a June 28 phone discussion with AP, Myat Lin, the Maryland refugee coordinator, said that his office does offer additional funding for rent after 90 days but that this is not “widely announced.”

Ms Whitney has since learned that Mr Lin has also pledged a year of support for families that fall behind in paying rent and that he is determined that no Afghan refugee will be evicted in Maryland. The problem, she said, is that this was not communicated to the 27 refugee families in Baltimore or to the team volunteers by Mr Lin’s office or IRC caseworkers.

Ms Whitney was also upset to hear that her own funds had gone to pay for rent when government money was available, and described this as “waste and duplication.”

The breakdown in communications has also meant that the 27 families and their teams do not know what to expect after the initial 90 days, and whether or not the IRC remains responsible for their welfare.

Funding for programs after the 90 days comes through The Office of Refugee Resettlement and is managed by the states. But according to Susan Krehbiel, from the Maryland Presbytery, these programs are not required to offer services to all refugees and are subject to less federal oversight than during Reception and Placement. “The only thing with teeth is (during) the 90 days,” she said.

This leaves it unclear what the refuges can claim, and from whom. One expert told AP that refugees tend to have “unrealistic expectations” about agency support and assume “it will last forever.” This should have been addressed at US Army bases during the first phase of Operation Allies Welcome but, she said, cultural orientation at the bases was cut short because of the numbers and urgency of moving the refugees off base and into states. Rumors then spread quickly by word of mouth as refugees arrived in the states and began comparing services.

There seems little chance of any agreement soon between the Baltimore teams and IRC. Mr Lin has urged the volunteers to help their families fill out a form designating the volunteers as representatives, and then work through agencies.

Ms Whitney said that she will agree to a background check, and had already undergone a check through Luminus. But she is unwilling to work under the IRC. Barbara Ferris, president of the International Women’s Democracy Center, another critic of the IRC’s early handling of arrivals in Baltimore, was more blunt. Working with the IRC at this stage, she said, “would damage our credibility.”

Several people interviewed for this article warned that the continuing stand-off and the media coverage it has generated could jeopardize government support for traditional resettlement.

The Biden Administration has offered to accept 100,000 Ukrainian refugees and announced a new initiative on April 22 to encourage American families to assume the cost of resettling Ukrainians by forming “Sponsor Circles.” But the prospect of the federal government withdrawing altogether alarmed several experts who spoke to AP. One said his agency was worried by the possibility of abuse and even trafficking of Ukrainians.

Others said that neither the agencies nor the communities can manage resettlement on their own. Volunteers cannot possibly provide consistent services to large numbers of refugees across the country while also adhering to onerous federal regulations. But the agencies cannot afford to ignore volunteers like Ms Whitney who have a direct line into communities.

“Both approaches are clearly needed,” said Ms Stockton-Juarez from the ECDC.

The Verdict So Far

Land of plenty: Newly-arrived refugees discover the supermarket

The two competing visions of resettlement color how the last year’s efforts are perceived by those who talked to AP for this article.

Several people described the response of the agencies as nothing short of heroic. According to one federal government analysis, over half of the Afghans considered employable have found jobs and 97% of the Afghan refugees are in permanent housing.

“Given the shortage of housing and the fact that they arrived with no jobs or a credit history, that is pretty incredible,” said one expert who works on the resettlement of Afghans. “I have been amazed to see what has been done.”

The expert added that the resettlement agencies had been “extremely creative and committed to resettling Afghans under extremely difficult conditions – housing and labor shortages, the pandemic, and huge pace and numbers.”

This was echoed by Mr Lin, the refugee coordinator for Maryland, who said the government’s definition of success is whether a refugee is “able to meet his or her basic expenses with income through employment.” Prior to 2022, he said, around 70% of new refugees found work within 8 months of their arrival in Maryland – one of the best records in the country – although a “few still struggled after the 8 months.”

Overall, Ms Whitney’s fellow volunteers are proud of their work so far. Hilary Smalley, who works with the two Afghan families headed by brothers in Glen Burnie, clashed with the IRC in March after she withdrew one of the families from housing assigned by the IRC and found work for one of the brothers. The IRC refused to release several thousand dollars of cash assistance given by the Department of State to cover rent for the family’s new apartment.

But Ms Smalley is content with the outcome. “So many things have worked out well for (the families) that it’s hard for me to get mad,” she said. “They have jobs. Their kids are enrolled in decent schools. They’re happy and they have a car (paid for by the team.) I feel blessed.”

But while many volunteers share Ms Smalley’s sense of accomplishment, their view of progress so far is overshadowed by the fact that they are working mainly with families in crisis.

Although the pace has slowed, new cases continue to arrive, said Ms Whitney. In a July 28 email to the IRC she reported that a family in Baltimore that spoke very little English was “panicking” because their electricity had been shut off during a heat wave. After calling the utility company, volunteers learned that the family owed $793.5 because their IRC caseworker had forgotten to change the name on their account. Adding to their woes, the family had no baby formula. The family had tried to contact the caseworker but received no reply.

Ms Whitney is also worried for a 16-year old refugee who was not enrolled in school and was beaten by his father after an argument. Ms Whitney had helped the father and son move to an apartment in a good school district and found the father a full-time job with benefits. But the boy was not enrolled in school by the IRC and went to work in a 7-Eleven store, only to be accused of stealing $800 by the owner and reported to the police. He later signed a confession even though he could speak barely any English.

“If he had gone to school, I think the son would have had a better shot at making it,” said Ms Whitney.

The Challenge Ahead

The power of education: Like many Afghan refugee children, Amina, 15, has thrived at school in the US and picked up English quickly

Jenna Whitney’s experience with Afghan families in crisis has also influenced her expectations for the challenges that lie ahead.

Most agree that education will not be the problem it was in the early months last year. After being enrolled in school, almost all refugee children have benefited from English language training (ESL) and many have made spectacular progress. During one visit to the Renaissance Plaza building in Baltimore, AP met with Abdullah T, who lost a leg while rescuing an American soldier in Afghanistan. All of his seven children were in school and his older son – who provided translation for his father – had picked up English while waiting on the US army base.

But Abdullah T himself was struggling to navigate a thicket of regulations and secure disability benefits. His team of volunteers predicted a difficult road ahead.

Just how difficult it will be, they said, will also depend on the support he receives from other Afghans in the neighborhood. While most families at the Renaissance Plaza have made friends with other refugees in the building, the lack of an Afghan mosque and stores in the neighborhood will add to the problem – one reason why volunteer teams wanted to move families from the building early after their arrival. While an “Afghan footprint” may be emerging slowly in Maryland, it cannot be manufactured artificially or overnight.

Other refugees at the Renaissance Plaza also made it clear that employment is not always the boon it is made out to be. Akhtar W took advantage of the hot job market and quickly found entry-level work as a gas attendant. Others have worked in food processing and warehouses that require little English and earned an average of around $14 an hour, according to volunteers.

But this has placed a strain on Akhtar W, who arrived without his family and only qualified for $1,225 in federal support during the first 90 days. He sleeps in the same room as three other Afghan men who also arrived without their families so as to cover the cost of rent. Akhtar W has also been forced to take on additional part-time work in order to meet his own expenses and send money back to his family in Afghanistan. His working day sometimes lasts for 15 hours, he said.

“Single men and women may seem more resilient but they also suffer more from loneliness,” said Ms Whitney who knows Akhtar W well. The conventional approach to resettlement has no answers for loneliness and depression, she said.

Volunteers are also uncovering cases of family tensions which escalate into violence. Minoo Tavakoli, who works closely with Ms Whitney, is particularly worried by the pressures on refugee women who usually live with the families of their husbands and tend to be far more isolated in their new American culture than men.

Ms Tavakoli recently learned of a pregnant refugee in Virginia who was stabbed by her husband after a dispute and only taken to hospital after a friend alerted the police. The case fell under the Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services (LRIS), which appears to have ignored the dispute for several weeks. An LRIS caseworker eventually called the woman’s husband, even though he was also the abuser.

In Ms Tavakoli’s view this showed that agency caseworkers are often “overwhelmed” by the number of families they have to manage and lack the skills needed to deal with such complex cases. Merely employing female caseworkers may not be enough, she said. “American women are used to yelling at men, but this does not happen in Afghanistan.”

Overshadowing everything for many refugees is continued separation from their families in Afghanistan, and uncertainty over their legal status.

Bob Cooke said that two refugee women known to his team in Gaithersburg had tried to commit suicide after being separated from their families at the airport. One of the women had just learned that her husband had been killed at the airport in an explosion. Separation also forces refugees like Akhtar W to find extra work because they are the only source of income for their families back in Afghanistan.

Legal worries only add to the strain. Most of the Afghans who arrived under Operation Allies Welcome were not granted asylum, like Ukrainian refugees, but were designated “humanitarian parolees” and given two years to secure permanent residence.

After a year many refugees feel the clock is ticking. The Biden Administration has given the Afghans temporary protection from deportation through to September 15 of next year and this could be extended. But the mere possibility of deportation adds to the anxiety and stress, said Akhtar W.

“Coming to America has made me an enemy of the Taliban” he said. “It would be a death sentence for me to go back.” He added that the Taliban were making regular visits to his house in Kabul.

Fashioning a Community Response

Shakera Rahimi, a former OBGYN in Afghanistan, directs the Afghan Alliance of Maryland and is much admired for her work with refugee families. By employing Afghans, the Alliance is also helping to build an Afghan footprint in Maryland

Many volunteers who spoke to AP for this article felt that the sheer range of challenges that lie ahead is another strong argument for their family teams.

This is partly because they have doubts about the long-term programs funded by the federal government and channeled through states. According to the Office of Refugee Resettlement, Maryland received $4,163,528 for Afghan refugees in an allocation announced on December 29 last year, behind only California, Texas, Virginia and Washington state. When he talked to AP on June 28, Mr Lin said his office was managing 28 cooperative agreements with 10 partners, including the three main resettlement agencies.

The problem with such programs, said volunteers, is that they do not address the full range of needs and vulnerabilities of individual families, identified above, and because they focus heavily on helping refugees find jobs.

Some ORR programs certainly do focus on special needs, like Preferred Communities, which offers help to refugees from torture and LGBTQ discrimination as well as victims of trafficking and can run for up to five years.

But many key services are barely covered. With the legal status of the Afghan parolees still in question, legal aid could be particularly important, but even the ECDC employs only one lawyer who offers pro bono advice one morning a week, said Ms Stockton-Juarez. For Ms Whitney, this makes a compelling case for volunteers like Kathy Hicks who works on Green Card applications as part of a team helping the 15-member family of Lala A near Annapolis.

Mr Cooke from the NIAA team in Gaithersburg said he is not aware of any psychologists who provide pro bono support for refugees, or specialize in the distress caused by family separation. This underscores the importance of friendship offered by team members.

As a result, some volunteers expect to add advocacy to their strategy. However exhausting it may be, and however uncomfortable for her targets, Ms Whitney sees no reason to ease her criticism of the IRC. After the controversies of the past year, she also feels there is an urgent need for independent monitoring of the resettlement process and more transparency.

On January 29 she submitted a detailed complaint about the “dire situation of Baltimore-based Afghan refugees” to the Bureau of Refugees, Population and Migration (PRM) at the State Department. A PRM official replied that the Bureau would follow up “with the organizations involved.” Early in March, Ms Whitney sent a strongly-worded complaint to the office of the Inspector General of the State Department, which referred her to the PRM Bureau.

At the state level, Ms Whitney has also sent multiple emails to the Maryland refugee coordinator Myat Lin, who himself came to the US as a refugee from Burma 16 years ago. She also contacted Congressman Jamie Raskin and the office of Governor Larry Hogan. Although Ms Whitney talked by phone with Mr Raskin, neither initiative had gone further by the time this article was written.

Others interviewed for this article said that the system badly needs independent monitoring from people like Ms Whitney. “There is simply no accountability” said Barbara Ferris from the IWDC.

AP has been told that the State Department conducts spot-checks at short notice to ensure that its procedures are being followed during the first 90 days, and hopes to complete sixty such investigations by the Fall. But the Department also relies on its agency partners to follow up on individual complaints. Ms Whitney assumes this why she heard nothing back after her January 29 complaint to the PRM Bureau.

Volunteers say that this hands-off approach by the federal government increases the importance of the Maryland Office of Refugees and Asylees (MORA) as a monitor. Myat Lin, the head of MORA, told AP that he had “responded to a number of inquiries and complaints from constituents and community members” and answered every inquiry. But, he went on, his office of four is too small to be proactive and reach out to communities.

Ms Whitney feels that Mr Lin should be more forceful, given that his office is the conduit for millions of dollars of federal funding. She would like to see him take a tougher line with the agencies, who talk to him on a weekly basis, and follow up aggressively on complaints. Others said that Mr Lin could also play a role in bridging the gulf between the IRC and its critics, and in reconciling the two visions of resettlement outlined in this article.

Some volunteers also plan to step up their advocacy for family reunification, which has stalled after early promises by the Biden Administration. They will also argue for passage of the Afghan Adjustment Act that would give asylum to Afghan parolees but was put on hold in 2021 and has yet to be taken up by the US Congress. Bob Cooke’s team in Gaithersburg has already approached the office of Chris Van Hollen, one of Maryland’s two senators.

For Afghan refugees who spoke to AP for this article, such action cannot come soon enough.

Akhtar W was one of several refugees at the Renaissance Plaza building who expressed concern that the outpouring of sympathy for Afghan refugees in the US last summer has given way to indifference. The main thing that keeps his hopes alive is the friendship and support of Ms Whitney, he said.

Some names have been changed for this article

Iain Guest is director of The Advocacy Project. He reported on refugee issues from Geneva for the Guardian and International Herald Tribune in the 1980s and served as spokesperson for the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) in Cambodia during the repatriation of refugees in 1993. Email Iain at iain@advocacynet.org.

Saying Goodbye— My Experience with The Advocacy Project & WAP

August 19, 2022 4:36 pm Leave a Comment

As the summer is ending, As I am disembarking the last weeks of my role as a peace fellow for the Advocacy Project, I can firmly attest that this has been a life-changing personal and professional experience. From getting to capture my worthwhile experiences in succinct blogs, to engaging with other public service workers across the U.S., and even taking on important logistical work for the organization, my experiences are all a testament to the amazing summer I have had.

My experiences this summer have confirmed and strengthened my passion for development, international work, storytelling, and public service. Intercultural communication and interaction in general are central to my identity which is why I gravitate towards non-profit work that directly bridges the gap between beneficiaries and providers.

As I remotely tackled a new region of the world, I have learned so much about Zimbabwe vicariously through my partner’s experiences. Dawa, my fellow partner, helped me achieve a grounding experience as a remote fellow where I consistently engaged with the work happening in the field allowing me to engage more than I thought possible.

As my experience comes to a close, my biggest skill and takeaway from this summer is the power of words and storytelling across various fields. This space and practice paved the way for life-long relationships and a cohesive learning experience, not only for fellows and staff but for partners to see the effect that their unbreakable dedication to a cause has on people thousands of miles away. All in all, it was really interesting to see the work of past fellows and also how their experiences juxtapose ours as we worked in two different eras and situations in the world. Lastly, this summer has taught me the importance of curiosity and sharing ideas— I am excited to take these skills with me wherever my trajectory is.

The WAP girls inspire me and their qualities are something admirable we all can learn from.

The Importance of Storytelling: Sharing my Experience with DACA at the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals in New Orleans

August 17, 2022 11:48 pm Leave a Comment

On July 6, 2022, the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals in New Orleans held its hearing on the State of Texas v. The United States in regards to the legality of the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals Program, otherwise known as DACA. Oral arguments were held that Wednesday at the court.

DACA is no legalization— it has always been a temporary fix awaiting real legislation. Because it has never been adjusted, it leaves out an ever-growing number of people who could qualify. The legality of the program has been questioned and dates back to the Obama administration. Hundreds of undocumented young people, their families, community, and faith leaders are expected to meet in from of the court demanding the program continue.

At 6 a.m. dozens of people were outside the court, including me as I prepared to share my experiences as a DACA recipient. The Texas case is challenging the legality of DACA, which directly impacts as many as 750,000 people. After the oral arguments hundreds of people gathered outside for the press conference where I got to share my story with community members, lawyers, and news outlets broadcasting the important event— here is my story, the story I shared:

Good Morning, Buenos Dias me da mucho orgullo estar aquí, hoy, en comunidad con ustedes. Wow, this is what a community looks like.

My name is Aimee Benitez Aguirre and I am here with CHIRLA.

My roots come from Guatemala, a country that was my home for the first four years of my life. Like many of you, my parents migrated to the United States to provide a better life, and a better education, for me and my generations to come.

Being a first-generation daughter forced me to grow up quicker than many kids my age. At the age of eight, I was translating for my parents, I was reviewing and making sense of legal documents for them, and guiding them to fit into this country that has consistently stripped us away of our basic human rights.

Back in 2017, I did not have the opportunity to apply for DACA because one month before my 15th birthday, the Trump administration decided to halt new applications for DACA. I felt helpless, scared, and defeated about what my future and the future of many like me would look like. I feel that same fear and anger today.

All I wanted was to go to school, get an education to serve my community, and give back to this country. In 2020, the Supreme Court ruled to overturn the Trump administration’s action, which meant that in the next 3 weeks I would apply for DACA, and soon after be granted my DACA. I am now proud to say that I, Aimee Benitez Aguirre, a DACA recipient, am attending UCLA majoring in Public Affairs and International Relations. My life barrier became my inspiration to continue to mobilize my community and amplify the voice of my people and our Lucha.

However, DACA would once again be stopped because a Texas judge ordered the federal government to end considerations. Millions once again were left out, and millions of applicants in the system were left on pause with no answers!

In ten years, a DACA program that was meant as a springboard for young immigrants became a golden cage but today we say enough is enough!

DACA was not a gift from anyone. We won it through the relentless organizing of undocumented young people of color across the country. Under the banner of “Undocumented and Unafraid,” they forced the nation to face the injustice of treating immigrants like criminals for seeking a new path for themselves. We have fought for every DACA victory and defended each win at every step. We do it because DACA is about nothing less than our lives. And yet after a decade, this program is still in danger.

Being a part of this delegation was an incredible experience this summer, it served as a reminder of why mobilization, storytelling, and mutual aid are important to the work that we do here at AP.

Power Sharing In A Deeply Divided Place

August 7, 2022 10:59 pm Leave a Comment

Credit: Team Leverage Edu

House Speaker Nancy Pelosi made a controversial trip to Taiwan last week, provoking the ire of China who views the island nation as their own. While White House officials have maintained their support for the One China policy, a doctrine stating that China is the sole legitimate government over Taiwan, China has retaliated to Pelosi’s visit by halting climate change and military deals with the U.S. Meanwhile this week Israel and Gaza traded rocket fire that resulted in the deaths of dozens of Palestinians and disrupted hundreds of thousands of Israelis. And Russian troops have attacked Ukraine for over six months now.

These global squabbles all have similarities: they provide textbook examples of power-sharing in deeply divided places. China and Taiwan, Israel and Palestine, and Russia and Ukraine are geographically and culturally distinct regions that seek control, power, and resources.

On a much different scale, Children’s Peace Initiative Kenya focuses on easing conflict that arises due to power sharing in a deeply divided place. Geographically and culturally distinct tribes in Northern Kenya fight over cows and pasture land, essentially a fight over control, power, and resources.

Given this similarity, are there lessons learned from CPI that can be applied to Taiwan-China, Israel-Palestine, and/or Russia-Ukraine? At first-glance, likely not. CPI primarily works with children. Government involvement, and inherently partisan disagreements, are minimal. Most tribes have an interest in sharing power.

However, from a broader perspective, CPI’s focus on locating common interests and goals as well as relationship building provide useful lessons to impart on these three globally distinct regions. Importantly, CPI’s work on climate change also focuses on what psychologists call superordinate goals, or a goal that exceeds all other conditional goals. In the case of CPI, climate change offers a more pressing issue than warring factions do, allowing the disparate tribes to coalesce around common interests.

While a close examination of the underlying issues plaguing Taiwan-China, Israeli-Palestianian, and Ukraine-Russia relationships is far outside the scope of this blog, superordinate goals offer a glimpse into what a future for each of the two nations could look like.

Power-sharing inherently involves compromises and concessions and, in the case of superordinate goals, a focus on a broader purpose. It remains to be seen what exactly these superordinate goals could be, but CPI’s small-scale example offers a successful model in which power-sharing can be accomplished in a deeply divided place.

Bards In The Square

August 2, 2022 4:16 pm Leave a Comment

Credit: Universal History Archive/Getty Images

I recently finished reading Barbarians At The Gate by Bryan Burrough and John Helyar. The book tells the true story of the fall of RJR Nabisco and the ensuing greed, viciousness, and ego-driven thinking that resulted. Throughout most of the process, pride replaced sincerity, and gluttony replaced honesty. Many friendships were lost due to disagreements in buying power. In the end, the “barbarians,” the reputation seekers even at the expense of an arguably sound business decision, won. The barbarians had successfully stormed the gate, leaving a trail of avarice and $25 billion behind.

The book’s story of for-profit companies forced me to reflect on my time working at The Advocacy Project (AP), a non-profit. If Henry Kravis and Peter Cohen, businessmen leading the decision-making, were consumed by greed and ego, what motivates us at non-profits? If they focused on money, what do we focus on? If they are “barbarians,” what are we?

Unlike many for-profits driven by money, stories drive AP. Their mission statement alone illustrates this as “the Advocacy Project helps marginalized communities tell their stories, strengthen their organizations, take action, and mobilize new support.”

My time interning at AP exemplifies this mission. During the first half of my summer, I worked closely with Children’s Peace Initiative Kenya (CPIK) to help develop and implement strategic plans to form women-led startups that create tribal peace. Later in the summer, I took embroidered designs made by women in Nepal and turned them into plates to tell the story of festivals. In both instances, my focus was neither on securing seed money nor working with venture capital firms but on creating narratives. For CPIK, I helped feature each woman – for the plate project, I helped highlight important festivals in Nepali culture.

A photo of Josephine

I followed the story and the narrative, not the money and the profit. I learned about Josephine, a Samburu businesswoman who trades maize across tribal lines, Joyce, a Samburu mother of seven who owns a maize mill and sells petrol for motorbikes, and Chepsait, a 30-year-old mother of eight and an advocate for peace in her community.

What a story lacks in monetary power, it more than makes up for in emotional strength. Money can buy views, but not interactions. It can buy power and prestige, but not connections. A simple story, and not money, can transcend a complex boundary, leading to a deeper understanding and connection that most other concepts can never dream to reach.

Moreover, unlike the “barbarian” businessmen who stormed the gate from the outside, AP focuses on creating close relationships from the inside. Contrary to Barbarians At The Gate where partnerships were formed as means to an end, nonprofits like AP seem to build partnerships as an end in itself. Interactions between partners in the book were transactional; interactions at AP are personal. The “barbarians” were colleagues, we’re friends.

We’re not driven by money; we’re driven by stories. We’re not transactional; we’re focused on creating friendships. We’re not barbarians at the gate; we’re bards in the square.

Pandemics, Instagram, and Ethical International Support

July 28, 2022 6:41 pm Leave a Comment

The pandemic-induced instability continues to jostle the world around me. While trendlines undulate with every new variant, the virus has me cornered. My friend has COVID-19. So does my friend’s friend. My partner’s grandmother was reinfected twice in the same month. My father’s day consists of laying in a hospital bed, waiting for the next available doctor–breaking the monotony of isolating within the same four walls for the past weeks. Like riding a county fair coaster held together by shabby bolts and nails, I feel uneasy about what’s to come next. Yet, I still hold on.

I’m sure many others feel the same way. Even the most diligent of mask-wearers and vaccine-takers can test positive after one lapse in judgment, but, really, any contact is a risk. I find myself wondering, where do we go from here? With my feelings of pessimism about the state of the pandemic, I scroll through Instagram to divert my attention. One of my friends posted a Johns Hopkins infographic on the reemerging monkeypox virus. “Great,” I thought, “just what I needed.” I scroll through their page only to find a post that caught my eye titled, “How Does a Pandemic Become Endemic?” Promises of an endemic phase have been thrown around before, a promise that has seemed intangible to me, simply because there is no way to predict how the virus will mutate. I click anyway. The post stated that key characterizations of an endemic are “overall severe case rates dropping, decreasing rates of death and hospitalization, and our healthcare system not being overwhelmed.” Bottom line, a virus that is manageable, not eradicated is considered endemic.

JRP Covid Volunteers (July 2022).

Right now, the post continued, the best way to prevent the virus from overwhelming our healthcare system and protecting our fellow neighbors is by wearing a tight-fitting mask and getting vaccinated–still. What’s extremely important is that we achieve this globally, even in areas that are deemed “inaccessible.” After reading this Instagram infographic, I actually felt better. I started to reflect on the numerous vaccination campaigns supported by The Advocacy Project, including one I am supporting now in India. Suddenly, my feelings of hopelessness settled. What once was a day filled with anxiety over my father’s sickness became one of hope, determined for solution-based action.

I scroll further to a post titled “4 Ways to Decolonize Global Health.” For a mere social media post, this proved to be an interesting intersection of global health and international development. The post points out that often richer establishments insert themselves into poorer countries, collect data, throw money at an undeveloped area, and leave. What’s even worse is that sometimes these efforts are done for a photo op or self-serving purposes, only to leave the community remaining ill-equipped. By contrast, a decolonizing effort asks local partners what they think is important and builds the infrastructure to provide care. Throughout my time at The Advocacy Project, I’ve come to appreciate that our methods of development are practiced through a decolonization lens. We partner with local organizations, creating lifelong connections to sustainably develop communities in need.

Photo by Anil from JRP of Covid Awareness Campaign in Odisha Block (July 2022).

I reflected further on the vaccination project I am working on in India. We have partnered with a local organization called Jeevan Rekha Parishad (JRP) to provide hundreds of vaccinations to the Bondha and Kandha Tribes in Odisha Block. JRP has trained local volunteers to hold public awareness campaigns, provide masks, and administer vaccinations to these villages deemed inaccessible by the government. To garner more support for our campaign, they have enlisted dancers to perform traditional folk Pala dances, an indigenous practice that has religious and entertainment roots. This vaccine campaign is off to a strong start. After weeks of preparatory work and one day of vaccination centers open, the volunteers have already provided 146 first doses and 53 second doses to the tribal peoples of Odisha Block.

I would like to give a shoutout to our friends Dr. Manu and the local volunteers that have worked diligently to organize this effort. It has been wonderful working with you. While the course of the pandemic has been crazy, draining, and unpredictable, I feel a newfound sense of optimism. I’m going to keep in mind that despite everything thrown at us in our personal lives, there are still organizations that are combating this virus as best as they can. The fight persists.

Handover Ceremony Preparations: Cow Shopping

July 21, 2022 7:23 am Leave a Comment

Reading previous GDPU Peace Fellow blogs and sitting down with Emma and Patrick, I was able to get a sense of how previous handover ceremonies have been performed and what I could expect prior to the ceremony. I also asked if there was anything they would change to which Emma and Patrick expressed that the ceremonies have only provided a goat which would only be enough to feed the visitors and that the students would not be able to enjoy meat nor refreshments. With the increase in our budget to conduct the renovation of the existing ten stances and employ Emma to produce soap for the handover, we saw that there was enough money to do something extra special, buy a cow (and sodas!).

Upon my visit to the school last week for the training, I spent the lunch hour with the P7 boys, listening to music, talking, taking photos, and playing games. When I mentioned that the ceremony would be next week Friday, almost all the boys asked me if they would be getting meat. At the time, I wasn’t sure if we had money in the budget to buy a cow, so I told them honestly that I don’t know. They expressed to me how they eat the same food at school every single day (Monday – Sunday), porridge for breakfast, and posho and beans for lunch and supper. Knowing that getting to enjoy meat during the ceremony was something that the students were dreaming of and in a sense expecting, I did not want to disappoint.

Walter and I made the journey to visit two cow owners, one being a friend of Walter’s friend, while the other was a local butcher. The first car we visited was in Unyama, very deep in the bush. We were greeted by the owners son who walked us to see the cow, a beautiful white cow roughly 350 pounds.

After the first visit, we made our way to Layibi where we visited the butcher. I had imagined that his cow would be at a farm grazing on grass, but when we pulled up to the butchery I was not prepared for what I saw. Bloody cow horns, a dead calf, horrific conditions, and a smell that was so putrid I almost threw up.

It’s safe to say that we went with the white cow. I can’t wait to see everyone’s face at the handover when we surprise them with the cow; it will be a day we will never forget.

Unexpected Religious Experience in Uganda

July 19, 2022 9:17 am Leave a Comment

Religion plays a very large part in everyday life in Uganda. It is very common for people to ask what religion you are, even upon first encounter. “Are you a Christian or a Muslim?” can even be heard as an introductory phrase. When I tell people that my religion is not common in Uganda and that they may have never heard of it, they become intrigued.

When I respond that I am Jewish, I am often met with many various reactions: “Wow,” “I have never heard of that religion,” “the people of Israel,” “do you believe in God,” are some of the most common responses that I receive. All of the reactions I have gotten have been positive, with many people being curious and asking questions about Judaism. This prompted me to search online if there were any Jewish communities in Uganda, to which I discovered that an eight-hour bus ride from Gulu in the small city of Mbale lies a small Jewish community with a synagogue, Jewish primary and secondary school, and Mikva (bath used to achieve ritual purity).

After already visiting a couple of Jewish communities in Africa (Morocco and Tunisia), I was intrigued to make a visit to the Jewish community in Mbale. I reached out to one of the members I had found on Instagram, Yochanan, and arranged the visit.

Some of the members of Mbale’s Jewish community

Reflecting on the visit, I can say it was one of the most special religious encounters I have ever have. As someone who is a proud Jewish person and the grandson and great-grandson of Holocaust survivors, I always feel a sense of pride when I get to meet Jewish people from various communities around the world.

During the weekend, I enjoyed Friday night and Saturday Sabbath services, a Sabbath walk through the community visiting local members as well as the primary and secondary school, a Saturday night post-Sabbath party fit with music, food, and locally made beer, and a Sunday visit to the Mbale Zoo and falls. My weekend with the Jewish community in Mbale will always be a memory I cherish and anytime I am asked with what religion I am, I respond “I am Jewish, there is even a small community in Mbale!”

Hatikva, Israel’s national anthem, written on the side of the primary school

Toilet Upkeep: Preparing For the Handover Ceremony

July 18, 2022 7:36 am Leave a Comment

With the handover ceremony for the Wash Project fast approaching, we conducted a training focused on raising awareness of disabilities and maintaining the toilets to ensure that they’ll be well kept and last for years to come. The training was led by Faruk, the executive director of Ability Sports Africa, and Jennifer, a GDPU board member. There were about 35 people in attendance, including parents, PTA members, and teachers.

The training began at 10 A.M., and went until 5 in the evening, with a delicious lunch of goat’s meat, cabbage, posho, rice, and beans, being provided by GDPU. While the training was quite heavy in content, the participants thoroughly enjoyed with the feedback from those in attendance being incredibly positive. After the meeting, the head teacher Joyce approached me and informed me that she was very impressed by Faruk and Jennifer, and that she learned a lot, prompting her to do everything in her power to ensure the toilets are well-kept and maintained.

The training incorporated lots of group activities, having group member’s work together to form ideas and solutions, rather than work alone.

With the toilets nearing completion and the students eagerly awaiting to use them, it is vital that the information that was conveyed to parents, PTA, and teachers will be conveyed to the students. This is to ensure that the students will maintain the toilets by cleaning them on a daily basis and not disposing of stones into the pit so that they will last for many years to come. I hope that when I return to Awach P7 in the near future, that I will see the toilets being cleaned and cared for, and looking like they did during the handover ceremony.

Cow Camp: A Weekend Out in the Fora

4:20 am 1 Comment

Allow me to set the scene…

It’s dark outside, and even by my standards it’s very chilly. The CPI Kenya team and myself pull up to a large field in the bush with fires roaring and smoke bellowing in every direction. Samburu and Pokot men are walking around and you can hear conversations filling the background. I bundle up in 3 layers of clothes + a rain jacket sporting very fashionable socks and Tevas.

Suddenly, it begins to rain. Men start running for shelter under trees, and cooks hurry to pass out the ugali and boiled goat for dinner. The CPI Kenya team runs for the land cruiser and eats our dinners together in the car… until Hilary and Francis go set up tents for our team in the pouring rain.

We’re at what’s called a fora camp. It’s a startup initiative by CPI Kenya that aims to help facilitate ways for pastoralist herders and warriors to share their pasturelands and in turn adapt to the changing climate, leading to more peace. By agreeing to share their pasturelands, Samburu and Pokot pastoralists are adapting to climate change while reducing the trigger for conflict—diminishing resources like grass and water for their cattle to survive.

We originally planned for about ~40-50 men from Samburu and Pokot tribes to show up… It turns out that over 200 men stayed the night around the fora (free food has a way of helping the crowds show up J). This meant that over 200 Samburu and Pokot men spent the evening sharing a meal and sleeping under the same trees.

Monica and I shared a tent together, and are officially bonded for life through the nighttime struggles of camping in the cold rain with a suffocatingly-well sealed tent. Hilary and the Suguta Marmar Chief, John Lekamparish, shared the tent next to us. Francis, however, sacrificed any chance of sleep and slept in the land cruiser to watch over the fora camp during the night. Eventually morning came, as it always does, and daylight perked our spirits. Time for chai!

Monica and I survived the night!

Hilary coming to greet us after a long night of no sleep.

Chai time

With nighttime behind us, it was time for Hilary to begin the discussions with herders, warriors, and chiefs. (If you haven’t been able to tell yet, this is Hilary’s element—discussing peace with pastoralists surrounded by cows after 2 cups of warm chai.)

We had to hold a special peace discussion for the herders because they needed leave early to get their cows out to graze. The discussion was lively and productive! It became apparent that some Samburu and Pokot herders are already sharing their pastureland but that rogue warriors from interior villages are the ones destroying peace.[1] Elders and warriors both spoke about the need to hold their own people accountable (like arresting rogue warriors and returning stolen livestock) to preserve peace between Pokot and Samburu tribes.

Herders also explained that it’s hard for them to attend peace meetings because they’re usually held in towns and they’re unable to attend. They asked the chiefs and elders to bring the peace meetings out to them more frequently so they can be more involved in the peace process.

Hilary took special care to speak during the discussions about how the changing climate is forcing them to adapt and find new solutions for the pastoralist lifestyle. He explained that sharing land and water is a key part of adapting to the changing climate AND maintaining peace. Warriors, herders, and chiefs alike agreed that this is extremely important and more discussions must be held to figure out how it can safely happen. Herders are worried that a public schedule for sharing land might make them vulnerable to more raids.

Hilary speaking with the chiefs, herders, and warriors about the importance of sharing resources to maintain peace.

It’s one thing to understand pastoralism or climate change or peacebuilding from a book. But it’s a different kind of understanding completely to experience it (for a night) with pastoralists in their own world. CPI Kenya’s fora camp startup is an important program because, like peace camps, it meets people where they are. Instead of taking pastoralists out of their environments to discuss peace, CPI Kenya brings the peacebuilding to them. In this case, they’re bringing it to the fora where the conflict literally happens. People can begin to see the humanity they share with someone from a different tribe and be exposed to that person’s environment.

CPI Kenya hopes to host another fora camp with the same group of men, but this time in a Pokot fora. For sustained and truly transformative peacebuilding to work, it needs to be consistent. You can help CPI Kenya continue hosting fora camps by donating to their GlobalGiving campaign on July 2oth!

Group photo with everyone who stayed to the end fora camp.

My friend, Simon, and I. Simon is a Samburu pastoralist. He just spent a year away from his family herding their livestock across East Africa. Simon and I became fast friends after talking about Hollywood movies and his life as a pastoralist.

A dying cow lays among branches, too weak to eat the leaves his owner has laid in front of him.

Samburu cows in their pin.

Herders leaving the fora camp to take their livestock out to graze.

Chiefs, herders, and warriors gathering to begin the afternoon discussions.

Hilary taking a much-earned nap after the fora camp—it was a long but exciting 2 days!

[1] CPI Kenya works with frontline villages, like Longewan and Amaya, to begin the peace process. Frontline villages are locations where the boundaries of 2 different tribes exist. Starting the peace process in frontline villages helps create a “peace barrier” between the boundary and interior villages who might try to hold raids against another tribe.

Pastoralist Businesswomen as Agents for Peace

July 16, 2022 5:49 am 1 Comment

During the 2 weeks I spent in Samburu County in Northern Kenya, it became very apparent to me that woman have an extremely important role in pastoralist society. While the men are away herding livestock, the women are left to make sure everything else, including the home and family, is sorted.

By 9:00am women are already out cleaning clothes in a stream (or any water source they can find). Afterwards, they look for firewood, walk to get water (usually a long distance while then having to carry the water back to their homes), and take care of other necessary tasks. Then it’s time to prepare lunch. Once the family is fed, they go to run their businesses and make it back in time to make and eat dinner for their family. Then, they get ready for the next day to do it all again. They are resilient and resourceful, but climate change is making their lives much harder.

This is why CPI Kenya is launching a Women’s Entrepreneur Network (WEN).

The network connects 5 Samburu and 5 Pokot women through 2 group businesses. Both groups have decided, after considering the markets in their areas, that they will buy and sell goats for their group businesses. The 2 groups will meet individually once a week to make sure everything is on track. Once a month, the 2 groups will gather to share business advice and learn how they can support each other.[1]

The inaugural group of participants in the Women’s Entrepreneur Network. They’re holding a sign to put in their shops that says “Businesswomen for Peace.”

An important goal of the network isn’t just to create a successful group business, but to make sure that the women’s’ individual businesses are growing, too. So as their group businesses grow and make profit, the Samburu and Pokot groups will separately divvy up the profits so that the women can also boost their individual businesses.

While WEN empowers businesswomen to build sustainable livelihoods, it’s also an avenue for peace. And given their wide variety of roles, businesswomen in pastoralist communities play an important part in creating peace.

All of the participants in WEN have experienced the brunt of conflict for more than a decade. Raids between Pokot and Samburu warriors affected everyone in Longewan (Samburu) and Amaya (Pokot). They’ve seen the horrors of conflict and the dividends of prosperity that peace brings. They are intent on guarding the benefits of peace.

One way that WEN will help contribute to peace is that it creates a network of informal communication between women in both tribes. During our interviews with women in the network, over 6 of them mentioned that the network will help increase communication about potential conflict being planned against the other village.

Some of the women also mentioned that by being part of WEN, they’ll become more visible in their communities. Members of the WEN from Longewan and Amaya have a variety of businesses from selling petrol, owning maize mills and restaurants, selling food and home stuffs, and more. If others in Longewan and Amaya see this group of women engaging with each other and their inter-tribal customers, they can see that it’s possible to coexist peacefully.

But the relationships don’t just stop at the women in WEN. The people in their lives—children, husbands, friends—will also be connected to inter-community engagements. The network may be steered by women, but it doesn’t stop at their relationships.

We’ve identified the women. Set up the program. Now, CPI Kenya just needs monetary support to launch the Women’s Entrepreneur Network. You can help us launch the network on July 20^th by donating to the GlobalGiving campaign!

Margaret serving ugali in her restaurant in Longewan.

Fatuma posing in her restaurant in Longewan.

Josephine helping Pokot customers at her maize mill in Longewan.

Chepsait at her shop in Amaya.

Natasha (CPI Kenya communications intern) and myself enjoying chai and chapo mayai at Chepsait’s restaurant.

In Amaya, most women have businesses out of their homes. Customers know what each woman sells and where the live to purchase goods. This is Chepochomorko’s home and business in Amaya where she sells sugar (and other goods when there’s no drought).

[1] I feel like it’s important here to note that at the beginning of trying to launch this program, we had a different idea of what it would look like. From Nairobi, we could try to think of what would make a good program for the participants, but until we were on the ground we didn’t know what their real needs and goals were. This was a good example of prioritizing the people in the program.

Main Market: Forever Changed

July 15, 2022 9:19 am 1 Comment

On July 1st, a nationwide order came into effect that all vendors must vacate the streets. Prior to that order, there were thousands of vendors in Gulu selling on the street as a source of income to support their families.

Within Gulu, one of the most arguably recognizable landmarks is Gulu Main Market. If you were to visit the market prior to July 1st, you would see hundreds of vendors selling in the designated parking space, around the market, and on the roadside. However, on July 1st, Gulu law enforcement backed by military officials evicted the sellers by force.

By Sunday the 3rd, Gulu Main Market appeared abandoned with all sellers being told to relocate inside or sell from their homes. Sunday night, where I would usually see dozens of sellers selling food, clothing, shoes, etc. was eerily quiet, with military roaming the streets and no sellers outside.

I met with my friend Hamuza who is originally from Kampala but has been living and working within Gulu for the past couple of years to discuss how the order has effected his livelihood. Hamuza worked a cart seven days a week where he would sell fried fish, chicken, and chips across the street from my hotel (he did not own the cart). After the order, military came and chased everyone off the street, warning them not to return or they will face consequences. As a result, Hamuza has returned him to Kampala to see if he can find any job with his family as he can’t afford rent in Gulu and the cart owner has suspended his payments.

While the goal of the order is to make cities cleaner and to increase the amount of sellers within designated town markets, tens of thousands (possibly even hundreds of thousands), will feel the effects of the order as they can’t afford to rent a space, thus preventing them from earning a income and supporting themselves and their families.

Military ordering the removal of non-permanent structures

The destruction of people’s livelihoods

The Big Dig: Engagement of Parents and the Power of Community

6:26 am 1 Comment

After awarding the Wash Project to Awach P7, Joyce, the incredible head teacher, was able to quickly round up and organize the parents in preparation for the big dig. With the instructions from the contractors already distributed to the teachers, everyone was on board on where to begin the digging. Over the course of two days, parents of enrolled students came together to help get the project rolling.

On the first day of the dig, Emma, Benson, and I arrived around 11 A.M. We were pleasantly surprised with the rapid pace and the amount of digging that had been completed. Parents had been working as early as 5 A.M., and the turnout had exceeded all expectations; as many as 120 parents gathered on the first day as they dug the pit in support of their children!

Despite the hot conditions, the long journeys they made to be able to attend, and the hard labor they endured, the parents felt extremely thankful that the Wash Project was taking place and benefiting their children. As the digging came to a close at around noon, the majority of the dig was able to be finished in one day due to the hard work and dedication of the parents.

Parents partaking in the dig

With all the success and progress made, the GDPU team made it a point to thank and speak to each parent that came out in support, starting with Benson, one of GDPU’s executive members and treasurer. Emma then spoke to parents about the importance of attending to children with disabilities and the importance of caring for them and giving them equal opportunities. She then referred parents to the resources at GDPU like wheelchairs, walking sticks, etc. and then opened the floor up to the parents to express any personal experience with individuals with disabilities and things that the community as a whole can do to assist these individuals. Afterwards, I shared my thoughts and thanks to the parents, expressing my gratitude of how fortunate I was for their support and how the project will be conducted and completed before I return to the US. Despite the language barrier for some, my smile and hand motions spoke more than my words.

Emma delivering her speech to the parents under the tree

As we sat under the tree enjoying our posho and beans, the success of the first day of digging came to a close. With many more adventures left in this Wash Project, the school community was left hopeful and more connected than ever before.

Speaking with some of the parents after lunch

The Wash Challenge at Awach and GDPU’s Goals

5:40 am 1 Comment

While Awach P7 has received extensive renovations as well as the current construction of a on-site health clinic for students, the toilets have not received the same care. Students are consistently faced with a horrific stench when they enter the toilets. As they continue to enter the stall, they notice feces smeared across the walls, a door barely clinging on, and maggots seeping out of the toilets. The fear, disgust, and embarrassment kick in as they contemplate using the bathroom in public or under these conditions, no choice seeming more appealing than the other. That is what the students at Awach P7 face daily.

During my first visit to Awach P7, the majority of the time was spent with Joyce, the head teacher. We visited the boys and girls toilets only briefly, rather, tackling the logistics of the school such as enrollment, need, and number of students with disabilities within her office.

On my second visit to the school, I was able further examine the toilets and the existing conditions that were breeding grounds for diseases. As we conducted our interviews with the teachers and evaluated the student-to-toilet ratio, we realized the toilet disparity and lack of proper sanitation was a real barrier for these students.

At Awach P7 there are 10 stances, 5 for the girls, and 5 for the boys. The extenuating conditions of the toilets has created an environment where the boys find it easier to pee in public than to enter the stalls— leaves, stones, and the walls serving as their primary form of toilet paper gave an insight into the lack of a bathroom system in this school. For the girls, the conditions were exacerbated as it is much more difficult for them to use the bathroom outside of the stalls creating large wait times across the school to enter the toilets. During their menstrual cycles, the girls have no room to change their clothes or change their pads. There is a pile of used pads outside the girl’s bathroom that the administration burns weekly adding to the embarrassment of simply using the restroom. Because of this, in addition, the project is tackling a new changing room for the girls to assist them when needing to change or during their menstruation cycle.

Poor conditions at Awach P7 toilets

The deliverables for this project were broken down into 3 main sectors: sanitation and containing the spread of disease, accessibility, and creating a safe environment for students to be able to use the bathroom.

One we confirmed with Joyce that Awach P7 had been selected for the construction of our Wash Project, we conducted a full investigation, took photos, and observed the nature of the toilets during our time there. One of the doors had caved in, toilets were blocked and unusable, and maggots were crawling in and out of the toilets making it impossible to use these facilities. Many students would rather dispose of their feces outside the toilets because of the intense conditions. After seeing the worse-than-expected conditions, I reported back to AP and evaluated the budget with Iain and Delaney.

After vouching on behalf of the school that the need of renovating the existing toilets was greatly needed, AP was able to pull together an additional $5,000, bringing our total investment into toilets at Awach at $15,000. All in all, we with the increase in the budget, we’re able to distribute soap and toilet paper, renovate the 10 existing toilets, and have a grander handover ceremony which will be unforgettable.

Increased enrollment is something the school is tackling and an expansion of a bathroom system that is accessible to all the student population is of the utmost importance. Pressure and pride should not be factors that students have to consider when relieving themselves— GDPU and AP are changing this.

Poster with school enrollment numbers at Awach P7

Choice of Schools: On to Awach!

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Choosing a beneficiary of AP and GDPU’s Wash Project has thrown us for a loop. Prior to my arrival here in Gulu, I had been informed that the school on the receiving end of the project would be Saint Martin Lukome Primary School. The school was due to receive the Wash Project in 2021 by previous fellow Anna, however, with the COVID pandemic and the lockdown, the project was unable to go ahead as planned. Within my first couple of weeks in Uganda, we made a visit to Saint Martin Lukome but were unimpressed with what we came across.

Prior to our visit, we had organized a meeting with the head teacher to reconfirm our dedication to the school and providing them with the much needed toilets. However, once we arrived, the head teacher was nowhere to be seen. This caught us by surprise as we had anticipated that the head teacher would be ecstatic to receive the Wash Project, however, we had come to realize why the head teacher did not prioritize our visit… they had just received new toilets but had failed to disclose this information to us.

No one to be found within the head teacher’s office

The next day we made a visit to the DEO office where we conveyed what we had come across and requested to work with a new school. After looking at the list, the two schools that were most in need of toilets based on the toilet to student ratio were Panyikworo Primary and Awach P7.

The newly built toilet at Saint Martin Lukome Primary School

After visiting both schools and meeting with both head teachers, we decided to select Awach P7.

While both schools were in need, Awach P7 has an enrollment of 1,400 students and a mere 10 toilets, five for boys and five for girls. With maggots crawling around the toilets, feces covering the walls, and unbearable smells coming from the toilets, we realized the immense need of the school and the students, inspiring us to tackle this project.

From Pokot Warrior to Peace Ambassador

July 14, 2022 7:23 am 1 Comment

Amosilia, a former Pokot warrior, had what he considered a normal childhood. He grew up wearing no clothes and experienced a lot of hunger. During a conversation about his life, he said that he remembers slaughtering animals at a young age for his family to eat and the droughts that would come for his family’s livestock. Amosilia would also come to be a shepherd for his family’s livestock.

Amosilia Kipkiror

Like most young, pastoralist, Pokot, men, Amosilia eventually became a herder. He explained that it’s just part of life for young men grow up to take care of the livestock and herd them to different areas (sometimes other countries) to find grass and water for grazing. Sometimes they spend months or even years away from family with their herds.

Drought is a normal part of life for pastoralists in Northern Kenya and cattle raiding is part of the territory. When drought strikes, herders become warriors and steal cattle from other tribes to replenish their own herds. This leads to even more raids to take back the stolen cattle—the cycle continues and animosity between tribes grows. But in recent years droughts have become longer and more frequent—drying up essential natural resources with it and leading to more cattle raids and conflict between tribes.

Amosilia himself became a warrior in the raids, taking livestock from other tribes to refill his herd and defending his own herd from raiders. He explained that during conflict, before peace, he experienced so much loss and death. He lost friends and family, and said that women and children were also killed during raids. No one was exempt from the inter-tribal conflict.

But one day during a raid, one of Amosilia’s close friends was shot. Amosilia and his friends tried to carry his friend to safety, but he fell unconscious and they were unsure whether he was alive or dead. So, they left him for dead. A few days later, Amosilia got a call from his wounded friend. He was alive! Amosilia went to his friend. And from that day on, his heart was changed and he would no longer participate in raids.

These days, Amosilia is an ambassador for peace. He’s the peace chairman for Pokot warriors in Amaya village and is the leader of a group that watches the Pokot/Samburu boundary to apprehend cattle raiders and return stolen cattle back to their owners. (I asked how many livestock he’s returned and his response was: “sana (a lot)! The amount is unaccountable!”).

I asked Amosilia what kind of challenges he faces when it comes to peacebuilding. He said his biggest challenge is that: “war is easy but peace is hard. You use a lot of effort to create peace, but war starts with just a spark.” He also said that he’s faced a lot of discrimination from some people in communities for wanting to create peace. Other warriors and people who want war insult him and treat him badly for wanting to change the status quo.

Amosilia is a visionary. He hopes that by creating peace, children in his community can go to school uninterrupted and that people in his community can find alternative livelihoods rather than fighting and herding. He said that it’s important to find warriors and help them transform into agents of peace.

His message to me at the end of our conversation was clear: “peacebuilding must be consistent—it cannot be reactive or seasonal.” He directly addressed donors and organizations who support peace programs to say that they should give funding for continuous peace work and not piecemeal programs that are not sustainable or transformative for the pastoralist community.

One way that CPI Kenya is helping create peace between pastoralists is by hosting fora camps. Fora camps gather warriors, herders, and chiefs all in one to figure out how they can reduce conflict and adapt to climate change by sharing their natural resources. If you’d like to help CPI Kenya continue their peace work with warriors so that this startup can indeed be consistent, donate to their GlobalGiving campaign!

The Power of Advocacy and Solidarity

July 7, 2022 2:46 pm 3 Comments

America is in a state of emergency— women are undergoing a direct war on reproductive health going back on a nearly 50-year precedent, attacking human rights across America. Millions of people across the nation are absorbing the news of the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v Wade and thousands across the world are witnessing the spectacle of the Supreme Court.

Millions of women across the nation are absorbing the news of the Supreme Court’s decision simply because for many, Roe v Wade was about more than abortion, it was about freedom and recognizing that the abolition of human rights will not stop there, especially with a government that fails to put the people first.

The criminalization of abortion and access to care affects more than just the people who seek those particular forms of care— it criminalizes and reduces access to health equity and safety for communities, especially for women of color. As a Latina woman, the daughter of immigrants, and growing up in a very progressive state like California I recognize the privilege of living in a state upholding reproductive rights and care. But as a woman and a person of color, I fear and stand in solidarity with the thousands of women, women of color, and low-income populations who are disproportionately affected by higher rates of abortions inflicted systemically, driven by a lack of access to and effective use of contraceptives. Women live in states actively working against their fundamental human right to bodily autonomy.

Too quickly as a society, we forget that we can be actors of change. As people take the streets of America to mobilize themselves for their rights, we can see that more than ever solidarity and mutual aid is essential amongst all people. This issue affects us all, the power must be restored to the people.

In these times, more than ever, I find hope and admiration for the determination and power in kindness— on June 17, 2022, the efforts by the Girl Up Club at Wakefield High School who took the initiative to sell home-made soap on the streets of Arlington, Virginia and raised over $682 for an education fund for girls in Zimbabwe can teach us the power of solidarity. The socio-economic conditions in Zimbabwe have limited the ability to obtain education for many young women in their communities. They are quick to work or get married in an attempt to help their families in poverty— these limitations have created a network of solidarity that we see in the Women’s Advocacy Project. During times like these, the girls in Arlington and Zimbabwe pave the way for a blueprint of what solidarity looks like across women transnationally and push me to join together to support the fight for human rights.

In a nation where the right to carry a gun is more protected by the highest court of the law, following a decade of mass shootings, where the government is ending the EPA’s ability to regulate greenhouse gas pollution during a mass climate crisis, it is important to turn to each other and recognize the power of the people. When people come together to take on the crisis, you are organizing and becoming agents of change rather than merely surviving. What mutual aid networks achieve is it breaks the stigma and isolation of the problem and instead supports the vulnerable population and instead mobilizes them.

“I want to go home. I want my brother”

10:39 am 2 Comments

Debris left behind after people fled when gunshots were fired during the July 4th fireworks show in Philadelphia. (Steven M. Falk/The Philadelphia Inquirer via AP)

I met Adam Monday night July 4th in a random apartment building on the Parkway in Philadelphia. His head rested in his hands, his feet shook, and his voice whimpered. As an unsettling bombardment of fireworks and gunshots fired 50 feet away from us, I walked up to him, and he looked up to me. The words barely tumbled out of his mouth, the shock still placed on his young shoulders as he said to me, a near stranger, “I want to go home. I want my brother.”

There was an active shooter less than a three minute walk from where we were. Adam’s parents weren’t answering his calls and he couldn’t find his brother. They, like my friend group and many others, fled from the Philadelphia Museum of Art and were separated when shots were fired nearby around 9:47 pm Monday night. A few gun shots had punctured the blissful serenity of July 4th, causing a blend of fear, adrenaline, and anxiety to gush out in a wave of petrified emotions, all of which twisted throughout Adam.

My friends and I shelter in place in a building three minutes away from the shooting

Despite the chaos, the national media has scarcely reported on the shooting in Philadelphia as it does not qualify as a mass shooting. Therein lies the problem: while a disturbing epidemic, mass shootings account for a sliver of a fraction of a minority of gun deaths in the U.S. The larger issue, the one rarely focused on, are daily shootings like the one in Philadelphia where “only” a few people are injured or killed. To date in 2022, over 22,000 people have died as a result of non-mass shooting gun deaths compared with the 340 people murdered as a result of mass shootings. These events, unfortunately, have led to hundreds of Adams throughout the United States.

These statistics paint an explicit picture: the U.S. has a gun problem predominantly centered on suicides and handguns, not mass shootings and AR-15s. Maps displaying mass shootings are shocking; maps showing the number of deaths from all shootings appalling. Solving the mass shooting epidemic must go hand-in-hand with the handgun epidemic. This isn’t to diminish the atrocity of a mass shooting, only to point out that, unfortunately, there exists much more that is wrong in our country and much more that we can do.

Map of all gun deaths in the U.S. in 2022. (gunviolencearchive.com)

The depressing irony between my experience this week and my work isn’t lost on me. My partner in the field, Julia Holladay, has worked tirelessly with Children’s Peace Initiative Kenya (CPIK) to help African tribes end their feuding, partly driven by the use of guns. And yet, it was me, not Julia, receiving a text expressing gratitude that I was safe. It was me, not Julia, spending a late night and into the early morning reuniting a ten year old with his family. It was me, the one living in suburban Philadelphia and not Julia in Kenya, who was just a few feet away from a live shooting.

Solving this larger gun problem first requires a cultural shift by the media, politicians, and everyday individuals to focus on mass shootings as well as other gun violence.

One institutional based idea inspired by my work for CPIK: instituting community based gun buyback programs which will create a difficult to attain, yet possible balance between respecting gun rights and promoting safety for non-mass shooting violence. The appeal of gun buyback programs lies in their ability to simultaneously reduce the amount of guns in a community, provide a method to safely dispose of firearms, and, importantly, to lead to a cultural shift away from guns.

The need for a solution became painstakingly clear when I woke up the morning after the fourth to a phone call from an unknown number. The voice on the other line sounded young and shy, no more than six years old. He said to me, “Hi, I am Adam’s brother. Thank you for helping him and his brother get home safe.” He hung up before I could reply, the silence permeating the now empty airwaves.

While thankful that Adam and his brother were home safe, I couldn’t help but replay Adam’s fearful words from the building lobby I had found him in just a few hours earlier: “Why is this happening? Is it safe to leave now?”

Behind the Scenes: Building the Women’s Entrepreneur Network

July 6, 2022 12:33 pm 1 Comment

The CPI Kenya team is in Samburu and Baringo Counties to work on launching a Women’s Entrepreneur Network between women in opposing Samburu and Pokot tribes.

Every morning, we visit a restaurant in Suguta MarMar, a small town on the way to the Longewan, a Samburu village. I have a chapo mayai (chapati and fried eggs) with a Krest (the Kenyan version of Sprite). We’re regulars by now—the servers automatically including chili sauce for my order. After we finish breakfast, we head up the ~30 minute drive to Longewan.

In what was once a battlefield, now stand concrete houses and homesteads. Herders and their livestock roam up and down the countryside grazing. 10 years ago the Samburu people in Longewan and Pokot people in Plesian were at war with each other—raiding livestock and repaying raids with retribution. Hilary told me that at one point, over 40 people a year were dying from cattle raids. But in the 10 years since CPI Kenya finished its peace program between the two communities, development has boomed in both communities and deaths have drastically gone down—almost vanishing.

Longewan is filled with flat, wide open country like this. Here, a herder is taking livestock home at the end of the day.

A very normal occurrence— cow traffic on the road to Longewan.

We saw elephants on the side of the road one of our first nights in Suguta MarMar!

With the Women’s Entrepreneur Network mission in mind, we spent 2 days following leads from select Longewan community members (teachers, chiefs, and businesswomen) to help us find 5 Samburu women to be part of the network. From morning to evening each day we drove across town—finding women, learning about their background, and getting consensus from mobilizers that the group dynamics would work well. We spent a lot of time trying to make sure the process was fair, and that political/familial biases didn’t play too big of a role—a soft science skill that pays off in droves!

We spent our 3^rd day in Longewan visiting our list of women. We sat down with each woman and got to know more about her business, her needs and goals, and her relationship with Pokot customers. After our discussions, the women decided if they wanted to be part of the network. Then, I had the opportunity to interview each of them (don’t worry—more to come on who these fantastic women are!).

SNEAK PEAK:

Josephine (right, purple shirt), part of the Samburu Women’s Entrepreneur Network, grinding maize for her Pokot customers on market day.

Margaret, a member of the Samburu Women’s Entrepreneur Network, stepping out of her restaurant for a quick break. On market days, when Pokot buyers come to Longewan, Margaret can serve over 100+ Pokot customers! In fact she was so busy this market day, when we went inside for lunch she didn’t have any food left.

After a rest day where the CPI Kenya staff visited an eco-conservancy for some fun and relaxation, we were back to Longewan!

Francis, me, and Hilary posing at the eco-conservancy in front of views of the Rift Valley.

Me trying to look like I can drive a 2002 Toyota Land Cruiser. (I can’t, but it’s my goal to get Francis to teach me by the time I leave Kenya!)

View of the Rift Valley

View inside the eco-conservancy.

On Monday July 4th, we gathered the group of 5 Samburu women and facilitated a group discussion to help them come up with a group business plan, goals, and decide how the network will promote inter-community peace between Longewan and Plesian. No spoilers… but the Samburu women even decided to create a social welfare emergency fund out of their savings plan to help their Pokot neighbors when needs arise. And after an extremely stimulating 2-hour discussion, the ladies surprised us with lunch and tea!

Now, we’re starting the process all over again in the Pokot village of Plesian.

Quite possible the best eggs, bread, and tea I’ve ever had. Courtesy of Hilary’s friend who runs this restaurant in Plesian.

Sipping tea and eating chapo mayai for lunch in Plesian.

Market day in Plesian.

This first week in Samburu and Baringo counties was hard and inspiring. I’ve spent long days witnessing the Samburu and Pokot people’s resilience in the face of climate change. Right now it’s meant to be rainy season when farmers in Longewan harvest their maize crops… but for the past 2 years it hasn’t even rained long enough for stocks to grow… So gates to plots of withering plants are laid open for cows and goats to eat what remains with no hope that a harvest can come. This is the reality of climate change in Longewan. And it reaches into every crevice of life—it means people go hungry, their livelihoods are reduced, they can’t afford to send their children to school, and the domino effect goes on and on.

But initiatives like the Women’s Entrepeneur Network will help give women in Longewan and Plesian the support to keep adapting to the shocks of climate change in their life, all while building bridges of peace between the two communities.

And so we journey on—one chapo mayai at a time.

Stay tuned to learn more about Cow Camp, the Women’s Entrepreneur Network. On July 20th, you can contribute to the start ups via GlobalGiving!

Climate Change is Already Impacting Our Most Vulnerable

June 29, 2022 2:06 pm 1 Comment

Shahed and I met for the first time on a Zoom call just a couple of weeks ago, yet spending time with him feels like catching up with an old friend. Before joining The Advocacy Project, I had heard about how wonderful he is from our project manager, Delaney. Rumor has it that his photography skills are unparalleled, and his heart is as vast as the sky. Being an activist to his core, Shahed has relentlessly stood up to oppressive authorities to protect the most vulnerable around him. You can get a glimpse into Shahed’s mind through his favorite art form–poetry. I encourage you to do so here, where readers can experience Shahed’s journey to Mayadip Island.

Shahed (center) at an Education Meeting. Matthew Becker, 2012 Peace Fellow, Subornogram Foundation, Sonargaon, Bangladesh

This past Wednesday, The AP team and I logged onto Zoom for our weekly meeting with Shahed, a virtual gathering space for planning projects, sharing stories, and the occasional teasing (all in good humor). We exchange greetings.

“How have you been?” I ask Shahed.

“Not that good” – the response was immediate. “Bangladesh is flooding and hundreds have been killed.” To make matters worse, Shahed reported that entire towns have submerged beneath the surface, families have been violently swept up by the waters, and millions are trying to stay afloat. It has been deemed the worst flooding in recent Bangladesh history. Despite the ongoing environmental crisis ravaging his homeland, he still managed to keep a buoyancy to his words, a testament to his resilient spirit. If I had not seen the news about the floods in Bangladesh beforehand, Shahed’s stoicism would have fooled me into believing that everything was normal.

However, for the small island of Mayadip, Bangladesh, “normal” now encompasses the hardships of climate change. The Monsoon season has resulted in erratic patterns of precipitation and flooding, while rising sea levels threaten the very existence of the Mayadip community. Unfortunately, the River Gypsies of Mayadip are no stranger to environmental and human threats. Many families struggle to make ends meet, with most earning less than $2 (USD) per day. Illiteracy rates are high. If families are able to access food, it usually consists of fish from the Meghna River–there is no arable land on the island to produce sufficient crop yields. Furthermore, the precious sand of Mayadip has been stolen by dredgers, which has been deemed a human rights violation by the United Nations.

Sonargaon River Gypsy Children. Matthew Becker, 2012 Peace Fellow, Subornogram Foundation, Sonargaon, Bangladesh

Now, due to climate change, the already vulnerable community of Mayadip is threatened by the very waters that sustain their families. For Mayadip’s neighbors on the mainland, hundreds of thousands of homes are submerged underwater. More than 7 million people in Bangladesh are in dire need of emergency relief. Families are being torn apart, with some questioning whether they will see their loved ones again. What was a simple question to Shahed became an alarming response, a reminder that the catastrophic effects of climate change are disproportionately affecting some of our most vulnerable communities and will continue to do so until we all bear the consequences. If there is any chance of supporting our most vulnerable friends across the world, we must change our ways. In fact, it should have been done decades ago. Here at AP, we are trying to brainstorm ways to implement a project in Bangladesh that addresses the climate crisis. But in our private lives, we have to invest in new ways of sustainable living. We must elect, and be, leaders who are willing to act boldly and in good faith. We must do it for Shahed, we must do it for the unseen neighbor, and we must do it for ourselves.

The International Federation of Red Cross (IFRC) has launched an emergency appeal to provide relief to those affected by the Bangladesh floods: https://www.ifrc.org/emergency/bangladesh-floods

Adapting to Peace

2:35 am 1 Comment

The Pokot village of Chepkalacha sits above Lake Baringo. It’s hilly terrain is mixed with valleys of sturdy, thorny bush and vegetation with termite hills scattered around. There’s no power, electricity, network, or tarmac roads—dusty, red clay, rocky trails give way to Chepkalacha’s city center and to Chepkalacha Primary School where CPI Kenya held their holiday peace exchange with Pokot and Ilchamus students. The land is harsh (yet beautiful). But the people are kind, welcoming, and hospitable.

The people of Chepkalacha are pastoralists, meaning they raise livestock and migrate with their herd as they rotate through pasturelands to graze. Migration is varied, some staying closer to home while others (like one boy who attended the peace activities) go as far as Uganda with their herds. It’s an important way of life in Chepkalacha and throughout Northern Kenya that dates back millennia. Reverend Thomas Lasaja, a minister in Kiserian, explained to me that pastoralism is not just a livelihood—it’s extremely meaningful and is the center for a lot of cultural and societal traditions.

But with the onset of anthropogenic climate change, pastoralism has also become increasingly risky. Natural resources like water are drying up and the frequency and intensity of drought is increasing. Climate shocks kill livestock, compound conflict between tribes, and make life much harder for pastoralist communities.

TepTep, a teacher at Lomuge Primary School close to Chepkalacha, told me about his own life as a pastoralist. As a young boy, he dropped out of primary school to be a herdsman. He was a herder for 5 years until a drought came and killed almost all of his herd. With almost no cattle left, TepTep resumed his education and is now a teacher in the area where he grew up. TepTep’s story is similar for many young pastoralist boys—herds take precedence over education until a shock, usually drought, draws them back to pick up their education again.

TepTep (left) and I on the last day of the holiday peace exchange.

Chepkalacha Primary School Headteacher, Madame Rhoda, talked to me about the impacts that the changing climate is having on women in Chepkalacha. She said that women in the village are walking longer distances to collect water. This then eats into their time/capacity to make money or find food for their family. In some situations, she said that young girls are forced to stay at home and help their families to fetch water, look after siblings while parents find jobs, and look after the home. Madame Rhoda emphasized that climate change has put an enormous emotional burden on women and girls in Chepkalacha.

Madame Rhoda (far right) with her family at the holiday peace exchange closing ceremony.

Despite the difficulty pastoralists face by way of climate change, the Pokot people I met in Chepkalacha are unwaveringly resilient. Their ancestors have adapted for thousands of years to East Africa’s climate, and their resolve remains.

Chepkalacha Primary School’s participation in CPI Kenya’s peace camp and holiday peace exchange is an example of the community’s desire to continue adapting. But it’s not just their participation. They went out of their way to share what resources they do have with CPI Kenya staff to host the holiday peace exchange and make it successful—from providing mattresses for CPI Kenya staff to sleep on to parents’ generosity towards Ilchamus students. Both villages participating in the peace camps, Chepkalacha and Kiserian, have taken this opportunity for peace seriously.

In the long run, peace will not only reduce conflict between Pokot and Ilchamus, but will help them continue to adapt to climate change stressors by sharing resources with other tribes. By sharing pastureland, the hope is decreased conflict because herds will have access to pastures when drought kills vegetation and makes water scare. Through freer movement, the two communities can trade and create economic interdependence/alternative livelihoods.

Peace creates ripples of opportunities. It makes all aspects of life better for those who have it. CPI Kenya’s work to help pastoralists create peace is an integral part of helping them tackle other problems, too, like mitigating and adapting to climate change.

Feelings are real. Feelings are helpful. Feelings are neither good or bad.

June 27, 2022 1:52 am 2 Comments

“Feelings are real. Feelings are helpful. Feelings are neither good or bad.” That’s the takeaway from a lesson Hilary and Monica teach at their holiday peace exchanges with students from tribes in the midst of violent conflict. They use the lesson to teach students about emotional regulation and how they can use their feelings in constructive ways when it comes to conflict de-escalation.

I’ve found myself revisiting this lesson quite a bit in the last 3 days since the United States Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. It turns out I have quite a lot of feelings about it. Outrage, confusion, sadness, overwhelmed, tired, scared, helpless to name a few…

Parts of me feel very heavy about the Supreme Court’s decision. Abortion is still legal in Washington D.C. where I live, but I’m grieving for people across the U.S. living in states with trigger laws or intentions to ban it in the coming weeks/months. Part of me feels tired from what feels like endlessly fighting and caring about basic human rights in a country that spends over $800 billion on its military rather protecting its children from school shootings. Part of me feels helpless because I’m halfway around the globe from protests and my friends and family.

Part of me also feels extremely grateful. I’ve lived a comfortable, privileged life. I’ve had amazing work, education, and travel opportunities. I’m healthy. But that’s not the case for 36% of Kenyans who live below the international poverty line, the 41% of Kenyans who do not access to clean water, or pastoralists in Northern Kenya in the midst of violent conflict. I almost feel selfish for caring about a U.S. Supreme Court ruling when there is so much work to be done in Kenya, too.

In reality I know that ALL my feelings are real. ALL my feelings are helpful. And ALL my feelings are neither good or bad. I know that emotions aren’t binary. As I talked about in my first blog, multiple things can be true at once. My feelings about Roe v. Wade are valid. And my feelings about what I’ve seen in Kenya thus far are also valid.

I’m a firm believer that all healing happens in connection. At the end of the day, connection to myself and others has kept me going in the past 3 days. Taking time to reflect, write, and breathe has kept me going. Stretching has kept me going. FaceTiming with my dear friend Martha back home has kept me going. Connecting with Monica and going to see a movie with her has kept me going.

This coming week, myself and the CPI Kenya staff leave to launch 2 startups in Northern Kenya[1]. One is a women’s entrepreneur network that aims to empower pastoralist women to build their own businesses and create sustainable livelihoods/opportunities for peace between 2 warring tribes. Another is a cow camp that will bring warriors from 2 opposing tribes together to figure out how they can share resources, like pastureland. These projects are keeping me going.

I have no wise words to say. But I’ll leave you again with the mantra I’ve been repeating to myself: feelings are real. Feelings are helpful. Feelings are neither good or bad.

[1] (You can donate on to help us launch these startups on July 20^th via GlobalGiving!)

Sparking Flames of Peace

June 23, 2022 3:06 am 1 Comment

In a previous blog, I talked about what happens at peace camp. On June 16^th-19^th, CPI Kenya held a peace camp part 2 of sorts, known as a holiday peace exchange between the same two villages, Chepkalacha (Pokot) and Kiserian (Ilchamus). This time, we were hosted by Chepkalacha Primary School. Unlike peace camps, which are mostly focused on building friendship through fun and games, the holiday peace exchange teaches students about feelings and conflict de-escalation…

It was particularly hot that day, and the two of us both needed a break from playing games that Hilary was leading nearby… so Dickens, a young Ilchamus boy from Kiserian, and I took a seat under the shade of a big tree in a field near Chepkalacha Primary School.

Dickens and I talking and cooling off in the shade.

Dickens and I talked about the U.S. and Kenya, how long it takes him to walk to school (1.5 hours each way!) and bonded over how we both love school—sharing our favorite courses and what we like to study. (Dickens enjoys English best and I like history). I asked him if he had made any friends over the past month and what he felt about the peace camp. “I’m sad to leave my friend today. But I’m excited for Brian to come to my house soon so we can kick the ball together out front,” said Dickens. Brian is Dickens’ Pokot friend from Chepkalacha—they became friends at the peace camp in Kiserian just two weeks earlier. He continued: “I hope that one day even our parents can become friends and that there will be peace.”

Brian (left), myself, and Dickens (right)

A month ago, Dickens’ hope for friendship and peace was not achievable. The people from Chepkalacha belong to the Pokot tribe, and Kiserians to Ilchamus. They’re in the midst of conflict because as natural resources like water dry up, some pastoralists engage in cattle raiding to refill their herds. Cattle raids by one tribe are repaid with retaliation from the tribe whose cattle were stolen, and on and on it goes as animosity builds between Pokots and Ilchamus.

But because of CPI Kenya’s work the past month with Pokot and Ilchamus students, over 100+ students like Dickens and Brian are now friends and examples in their communities that peace is possible between the two communities.

On the last day of the holiday peace exchange, Pokot family members came to Chepkalacha Primary School for the closing ceremony. The same tree that Dickens and I sat under a few hours earlier was now filled with Pokot family members gifting Ilchamus students chickens, snacks, money, and homemade goods. There was an air of celebration and excitement, with Pokot parents lining up to have their picture taken with their children’s Ilchamus friend.

Chepkalacha Chief Jeremiah Saban and Madam Rhoda (Chepkalacha Primary School headteacher, Chepkalacha High School Prinicpal, and the Chief’s wife) giving their childrens’ Ilchamus friends (far right and middle left) gifts.

Pokot mothers (far left and far right) giving their daughters’ Ilchamus friend (center) gifts.

Pokot parents giving their daughter’s Ilchamus friends (middle in red and blue dresses) a chicken.

Goodbyes have always been hard for me. I once cried saying bye to a dog I met during a two-week high school exchange program. So I won’t pretend that the closing ceremony didn’t bring some happy tears to my eyes, especially as the Ilchamus children loaded up in the military vehicle to go back to Kiserian. Pokot women danced around the military vehicle in a traditional send off, with children waving and yelling bye to each other (some even yelling, “bye Julia Holladay!”).

Pokot families dance around the students before the Ilchamus students leave for Kiserian.

Pokot students waving bye to their Ilchamus friends.

Hilary saying goodbyes to the Ilchamus students.

Pokot parents waving goodbye to Ilchamus students heading back to Kiserian.

While goodbyes may not be my strong suit, the energy and emotion from both communities poured into the peace camp and holiday peace exchange make it so poignantly clear that CPI Kenya’s approach to peace building is undeniably transformative.

Dickens and Brian are sparks who are helping their communities understand that their shared humanity is greater than the conflict at hand. Sparks ignite flames, just as students like Dickens and Brian are an important part of the larger picture leading the way to peace.

Conflict, Climate Change, and CPI Kenya

June 9, 2022 3:39 am 1 Comment

In Northern Kenya, climate change isn’t the direct cause of conflict between pastoralist communities—but its compounding existing challenges.

In my graduate development and humanitarian action classes at George Washington University, climate change is an inevitable (and important) subject we study because of its global implications. So far in my academic career, I’ve understood climate change from the “ivory tower” of classrooms. Now that I’m in Kenya[1], I’m seeing with my own eyes that the reality of climate change is already here.

Climate Change as a Threat Multiplier in Kenya

Within CPI Kenya’s work, climate change is a clear threat multiplier in Northern Kenyan ecosystems. When I say threat-multiplier, I mean that climate change might not be the direct cause of a risk but that it exacerbates a situation. This is important because countries like Kenya are projected to experience climate change’s consequences more intensely, but are not in an economic position compared to higher-income countries to mitigate and adapt to them.

Source: Mercy Corps, Climate-Conflict Brief (2021)

For example in Northern Kenya, resources like water are becoming more scare because of changing weather patterns that didn’t exist 10+ years ago. Temperatures are increasing, droughts and heat waves are prolonged, rainfall is more variable and intense, and sea levels are rising. All of these changes set off chain reactions in an ecosystem. If tensions (be they social, cultural, or political) are already present, climate change can compound the situation.

Cattle Raids and Climate Change

When it comes to the pastoralist lifestyle, herding cows isn’t just a job for pastoralists. They hold a lot meaning, culturally and economically, for pastoralist communities. In Baringo County and across Northern Kenya, where cattle is king, climate impacts have contributed to increased conflict between tribes because there isn’t enough water and food in one area for their livestock to survive. To supplement their herds and/or find greener pastures, pastoralists cross boundaries to steal and recover herd animals from each other. Violent cattle raids in across Northern Kenya have become deadly, and make life more difficult for communities.

The complex nature of conflict in Northern Kenya is why CPI Kenya is empowering children to be the change in their ecosystems. By bringing children from tribes in the midst of conflict together to have fun and become friends, they show parents, pastors, warriors and chiefs in their communities that peace is possible. CPI Kenya is helping communities attain sustainable peace in hopes that the they can also work together to adapt to and mitigate some of the issues climate change exacerbates.

Some Observed Climate Impacts in Baringo County

During the CPI Kenya’s peace camp in Baringo County from March 26-30 at Kiserian Primary School, we saw climate change’s consequences firsthand. When I spoke to Kiserian Primary School Headteacher Allen Kikyeni about changes in weather over the last 10 years, he said that unpredictable rainfall and late rainy seasons are affecting when people plant crops and increasing food insecurity.

Then in 2020, Lake Baringo flooded for the first time destroying homes and displacing residents. One student, Ruth, told me the flood destroyed her school and at least 3 others—forcing her and other students to relocate to other schools in the area. This was a big deal for families because they had to figure out a new way for students to get to school. It meant children walking longer distances, taking costly transportation, or missing school all together depending on the situation.

In 2020, the Baringo Flood reached all the way up to this small building, about ~100 meters (300 feet) from Kiserian Primary School.

Flooded town along Lake Baringo where residents have been forced to relocate.

New shoreline of Lake Baringo. Before the flood in 2020, the shoreline was 1km from where it is now.

Destroyed flora from Lake Baringo flood.

The village of Chepkalacha, however, has different climate risks and impacts. The village has an even more arid environment compared to Kiserian even though the towns are just 40 miles from each other across Lake Baringo. Chepkalacha has always experienced drought, but in the last decade, prolonged and increased periods of drought and rainfall variability have made matters worse.

Chepkalacha Chief Jeremiah Saban told me that his main concern about the weather revolves around people having enough water. He said that schools are even closing and people are migrating to areas where water resources are more reliable.

Homes at Chepkalacha village.

Map showing 40 mile distance from Chepkalacha to Kiserian.

The implications of climate change will only continue to worsen as high-income countries continue to miss their marks on climate financing for adaptation and mitigation promises. In the meantime, CPI Kenya continues to work across Northern Kenya to create opportunities for communities to engage in peace processes and build a more peaceful Kenya.

[1] Kenya’s climate is naturally dry and arid with a more temperate climate in the highlands. It has 2 rainy seasons, “long rains” from March to June and “short rains” from October to December. There’s little seasonal variability and dry spells/ bouts of drought are not uncommon, especially in Northern Kenya.

Dancing, Posho, Desserts, and Sign Language

June 6, 2022 5:58 am 3 Comments

My time here in Gulu with the Gulu Disabled Persons Union (GDPU) has thus far been nothing short of incredible. The staff, Emma, Mary, Brenda, Ruth, Walter, Patrick, Charles, and Faruk continue to welcome me with kindness and smiles on a daily basis, making work at GDPU seem more and more like a place I can see myself spending far more than ten weeks.

While I have experienced many new things, perhaps my favorite is spending time with the students in their classes. Here at GDPU, there are over 65 students between the ages of 16 – 30 (some boarding while others are day scholars) who are beneficiaries of a UK-based organization grant which enables them to spend six months at GDPU. During these six months, the students take a course in a particular field in the hopes of assisting them pursue a career. Some of these courses include knitting, tailoring, boda boda (motorcycle) repair, phone repair, hair styling, and handicrafts.

Due to the student’s disabilities and/or family’s financial status, all of them are no longer enrolled in school. Some have received very little to no schooling, with the opportunity to receive skills-based learning coming as a blessing to the students and their families. Not only does learning a new skill assist in establishing a career, but also allows the students to create friendships with other students with disabilities.

Over the course of my time here, I have spent much of my time in Brenda’s knitting class and Charles’ boda boda repair class. Brenda’s class is composed of about a dozen students, all girls and Francis, an incredibly talented blind knitter who has a great sense of humor and a love of Gospel music. Charles’ class on the other hand is all boys, also about a dozen, with a third of them being deaf and communicating through sign language.

Celebrating Emma’s Birthday at Aruu Falls

Dancing

During my second visit to Brenda’s class, I asked her students if they would like for me to play some music from my speaker. After an excited “YES!” we put on Apple Music’s Top 100: Uganda and danced, sang, and laughed. Since that day, it has become customary for me to bring my speaker to Brenda’s class and for the students to dance and enjoy, as well as watch the Mzungu attempt to dance.

Salamay (L), Linda (R), and myself mid-dancing

Posho

The first couple of weeks, I found myself eating at Elephante Commons, a DELICIOUS restaurant across the street from GDPU. However, this past week, I decided that I’d rather spend my time eating lunch with the students at GDPU. Every day the students are served posho (or rice) and beans. While I was not fond of the posho (corn flour porridge) at first, I have developed a liking towards it and getting to speak to the students outside during lunch.

Desserts

With the money I saved from not eating out for the week, I decided to go to Elephante Commons and buy some desserts for some of the students. I purchased a dozen brownies and a dozen lemon bars which were INCREDIBLE. I gave them to the students, all of which had never tried a brownie or a lemon bar before. They were a HIT to say the least.

Sign Language

During my first visit to Charles’ class, I was greeted by all of the boys. Upon arrival, the students introduced themselves to me either through speech or sign language, and after class, spent time teaching me sign language which was an incredible experience. While I still have a lot to learn, I have been practicing, allowing me to greet and communicate with all students at GDPU.

“We’ll Go Back and Tell Our Families They’re Just Like Us!”

May 31, 2022 7:43 am 1 Comment

Children Peace Initiative Kenya (CPI Kenya) held their twentieth peace camp the weekend of May 26-30! Twenty peace camps to give children from two warring tribes the opportunity see that it’s possible to have fun together, and even become friends. Twenty peace camps to try and end conflict over livestock and resource scarcity between tribes in counties across Northern Kenya. Twenty peace camps to help create a more peaceful Kenya.

Peace camps are a lot like summer camp—kids sing songs, play games, and spend the night giggling and talking. On their twentieth peace camp, CPI Kenya founders Hilary and Monica worked with children from Ilchamus and Pokot tribes right on the shore of Lake Baringo in Northern Kenya.

Hilary and Monica came alive the moment we arrived at Kiserian Primary School (where this peace camp took place). You can tell that their passion is working with kids to become catalysts for change—it showed in everything they did. From organizing games and song to teaching about the importance of peace between Pokot and Ilchamus communities in Kiserian, Noosukuro, Lomuge, and Chepkalacha villages, Hilary and Monica spent every ounce of their energy everyday interacting with the kids and helping them understand each others’ commonalities.

And their approach is revolutionary! Children are oftentimes left out of important conversations and issues, despite being affected by the outcomes. But Monica and Hilary see children as important stakeholders in their communities and agents for change. And after 4 days of games, meals, singing, and sleepovers, four children had the chance to share what they learned at the closing ceremony. Gideon, a boy from Lomuge, a Pokot village, stood up confidently and determined. He addressed the 100+ students, village chiefs, CPI Kenya staff, and teachers to share that:

“Before the peace camp, we were scared. People were telling us Ilchamus will throw us in the lake or in the cactus. But we were received so well and welcomed. We’ve made friends and have stayed here at the camp together peacefully. When we go back, we’ll tell our families they (Ilchamus) are just like us. We’ll tell them to stop stealing cows.”

Gideon speaking at the closing ceremony.

Peace camps are hard work, and there is so much that goes on to make everything happen. Everyone puts in their all for the kids because the implications are life-saving. Below are some photos from CPI Kenya’s twentieth peace camp in Kiserian—I hope they convey the few thousand words it would take to rightfully describe how all Monica and Hilary are helping create peace in Northern Kenya.

Ilchamus and Pokot children meeting each other for the first time. They were excited to mingle and see what children from the other tribe were like.

Peace camp opening ceremony at Kiserian Primary School. Hilary is explaining to the kids that while they’ll be having a lot of fun and playing games, this weekend is about getting to know other children.

Hilary talking to the children about the important of peace, and explaining that change can start with them.

Monica leading the children in songs. In this one, they’re learning how to say “we are very happy” in each others’ tribal language.

Warming up in the morning with some fun group movement.

Balloon stomper game—each child ties a balloon to their ankle and tries to be the last person in the rectangle with their balloon not popped.

A team game where the person at the front has to race to grab a ball, run back to their line, and send it to the back through everyone’s legs.

A teamwork game where the kids are blindfolded and must create a shape with the string.

Two girls from Ilchamus (right) and Pokot (left) walking together hand in hand.

A girl from Kiserian (Ilchamus, right) and Lomgue (Pokot, left) trying to feed each other orange drink blindfolded.

Boy from Kiserian (Ilchamus, left) leading another from and Chepkalacha (Pokot, right) around the obstacle course.

The last activity, the kids were put into groups and given newspaper to create outfits for one boy and girl in their group (one had to be Pokot, the other Ilchamus).

A boy poses with his group as they finish up his newspaper suit for the last activity.

Ilchamus girls saying bye to their Pokot friends! Military vehicle was the only way to transport the children from Chepkalacha to Kiserian because of conflict.

Pokot Chief from Chepkalacha (right) and Ilchamus Chief from Kiserian (left) shaking hands at the peace camp’s closing ceremony.

The Mzungu in Kagumo

May 26, 2022 2:36 pm 2 Comments

Before Friday, Kenya was Nairobi. More specifically, it was Ongata Rongai, the neighborhood where the Children’s Peace Initiative Kenya’s (CPI Kenya) office is, and where I’m staying in Nairobi. On Friday, that all changed when Monica, CPI Kenya co-founder, took the mzungu[1] on a two hour road trip to her hometown, Kagumo, in the White Highlands of Central Kenya.

The highway turned to one way roads, which turned into narrow, red clay roads. Lush, vibrant vegetation grew in every direction—homesteads surrounded by tea and coffee farms. We picked up some friends along the way, including Monica’s 14 year-old son Elias and her 20 year-old daughter Chebet. Monica adopted Elias after a peace camp when Elias was 4 years old, and has been part of the close-knit family ever since. Chebet lives around Monica’s family’s homestead and is now in her second year of university—Monica began taking care of her after some family troubles.

Elias and I on a tea farm.

Chebet and I happy to see each other for the drive back to Nairobi.

The weekend was filled with so much kindness, warmth, and welcoming that I could hardly remember the loneliness I felt in Nairobi during the night. (This blog is a space for honesty, so I won’t lie to you that a new place with no familiar places can be jarring—and lonely!)

Our first stop was Ben’s house, Monica’s cousin. After we picked up his son, Fabi, from school, we helped Ben with some paperwork. His family welcomed me into their home with hot tea and afternoon snack—which was the beginning of the overwhelming sense of thankfulness and gratitude for Kenyan hospitality I felt the entire weekend.[2] Their family even gifted us a chicken to eat over the weekend (see below from my apprehensive photo with the old lady hen we made into a lovely meal later in the weekend)!

Monica’s aunt’s family and Julia with the gifted chicken.

Julia with the dinner chicken.

From Ben’s house, we picked Elias up from school. We met the Deputy Principal who insisted that Monica and the mzungu address the daily assembly. At first, I thought it was a joke… but before I knew it, teachers were herding children to the courtyard and kids were rushing downstairs. Monica and I jumped center stage with the Deputy Principal where he introduced us and the children got to ask the mzungu lots of questions.

Assembly at Elias’ boarding school.

After the impromptu performance at Elias’ school, we headed into the small main part of town where we had to pick up a few things. Each stop we made, people in shops and on the street introduced themselves to me, excited to meet the mzungu in town. This happened everywhere we went—if people could see the white, freckled, blue-eyed mzungu in the car they wanted to stop and chat (of course, I was always happy to meet new people!) By the end of the weekend, I met so many people that my head was spinning in the best way.

Market in Kagumo.

Monica’s family’s home is surrounded by tea farms. Tea is a big cash crop in the region, and most people spend their days rotating from farm to farm, picking tea and coffee. Once the tea is picked, it’s brought to a buying center where farmers and farmworkers are paid for their labor. From there, it’s brought to a factory where the tea is processed and then the good product is exported outside of the country with the lower-quality product staying in Kenya.

Rolling hills of tea farms outside the driveway of Monica’s family’s home.

Chebet explaining that the tea is harvested like this, with the 2 leaves and a bud. From there’s it’s taken to a processing center and exported.

Tea buying center where harvesters and farmers come to sell their tea. From here the tea is processed at a factory and then exported.

The weekend in Monica’s hometown filled my spirit with so much joy for weeks to come. There aren’t words to express the hospitality I felt from everyone I met. The cool mountain weather and the never-ending welcome in Kagumo made me feel like I had a home in Kenya.

Monica’s family home.

Monica teaching me how to make chapati, a tasty Kenyan flat bread.

[1] Mzungu is Swahili for “wanderer,” and is a nickname given to white/foreign visitors to Kenya.

[2] The Southern U.S. likes to pride itself on hospitality, but I have never experienced such a welcome anywhere in my life.

An Unforgettable Flight

May 25, 2022 11:08 am 1 Comment

While I fly quite frequently, I often find the experience unenjoyable; cramped seats, crying children, and relatively untasteful food don’t add to the experience. However, on my flydubai flight from Dubai to Entebbe, the capital of Uganda, I experienced a memorable flight for all the right reasons; unmatched kindness, laughter, and stories, that will reside in me for a very long time.

Prior to boarding, I struck up conversation with two girls who were sitting next to me at the gate. They were also in their 20’s, Indian-Kenyan friends residing in Uganda due to their families changing business operations. They had both longed for an escape from the chaos of Kampala and had set out on a week-long vacation in Dubai. They expressed their disappointment with flydubai’s business class, the airline losing their baggage, flydubai swapping our airport last minute from Dubai International to the uncompleted Dubai World Central, and the sadness of returning to Kampala which was supposedly inferior to Nairobi. After our quick conversation, we swapped Instagram handles and began the boarding process.

A bus took us from the gate to the plane. After waving goodbye to the two girls as I walked past them in row one, I made my way to my seat in economy. The boarding experience took a turn for the worst when the girl sitting in my window seat refused to move. After I showed her my ticket and told her it was my seat, she told me she wanted the window and didn’t want the middle. As I explained that I also did not want the middle, the girl on the aisle moved to the middle and said, “don’t worry, any seat is fine for me.” Her name was Mariam.

Mariam, named after Mother Marie, is in her late twenties and is a Born-Again Christian from the outskirts of Kampala. While her dream is to be an author and to study psychology at university, that dream remains out of reach for now. For the last 2.5 years, Mariam worked as a housekeeper in Salalah, Oman. She expressed how challenging the work is and that it is constant, working 7 days a week as early as 5 or 6 in the morning, to late in the evening. Her contract states she must stay with one family for at least two years, but she has yet to fulfil that. She expressed that some of the families are so horrific she has to find another to work with so she can leave, even if it means not finishing her contract. While her free time is incredibly limited, she enjoys studying psychology and geography. While her contract is not yet finished, she hopes to spend as much time with her family and warn others how horrific the work is for Africans in the Arab world.

Next to Mariam in the window seat was Sarah from Mbarara, the second largest city in Uganda after Kampala. In retrospect, I am happy she had the window seat. While shy, Sarah was kind and had a contagious smile. She was returning home after a few years doing domestic work in Abu Dhabi and was ecstatic to be returning home to say the least. During the descent she kept repeating, “I’m almost home, I’m almost home” and was clapping and screaming when we made our landing.

Sarah (left), Mariam (center), and myself

Sitting behind me was Shifa who ended up becoming a very good friend. Shifa is also 22 years old and spent the last couple of years in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. At first glance I thought she was Muslim since she had her hair covered with a hijab. In response to my curiosity, I asked her if she was Muslim to which she replied with an outburst of laughter. She told me that Uganda is a predominantly Christian country, and that most women had their hair covered on the flight because they were coming from Arab countries and were embarrassed to show off how knotted their hair had become.

Shifa worked in sales in Riyadh and expressed how difficult it was to adjust to the strict lifestyle. In addition to the horrific racism in Saudi Arabia where Africans are viewed as property more than people, Shifa said “Blacks are treated the worst, worse than the women and much worse than the camels.” It was shocking to hear how camels were valued more than women, and how according to Shifa, men have more compassion towards their camels than their own wives with the pyramid of rights being men, camels, women, then blacks. While there have been major changes within Saudi Arabia in the past few years, almost all people Shifa interacted with expressed disapproval towards Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman’s wishes to modernize the country. What shocked me most is when Shifa mentioned that if a Saudi attacks an African verbally or physically for no reason and the African defends themselves, the African will face time in prison or even death while the Saudi faces no penalty. Horrifically, it is very common in Saudi Arabia to kill African workers if they’re not doing their work properly or to punish them by gagging, lashes, or locking them away.

Shifa and I with a photobomber

I am overjoyed that Shifa, Mariam, and Sarah were able to make their way back home. However, this is not the case for many African workers who go “missing” or are killed on the daily. Both Arab and African heads of states must be held accountable for pushing for this horrific form of modern-day slavery and I believe that there should be a further push for all African countries to introduce e-passports since many African workers have their passports seized on arrival.

The Practice of Being a Student

May 19, 2022 3:33 am 3 Comments

At this moment, I’m looking out the window at the Franciscan Family Center in Nairobi, Kenya with about 4 hours of sleep and 8 hours in Kenya. I made it! This marks my first week with the Children’s Peace Initiative Kenya (CPI Kenya). The pace of life within the walls of the convent is a little slower than what I witnessed on the car ride out, but it’s given me some space to reflect…

View from my room at the Franciscan Family Center.

Growing up in rural Alabama, I learned how to take it easy and go with the flow. From driving four wheelers at 10 years old around backwoods to easy Sunday afternoon lunches with family and friends… Alabama has a way of letting you know that you can’t control the universe so might as well take it easy—let your feet feel the grass beneath you and have a SunDrop on the trampoline in the backyard.

Living my early twenties in Washington D.C., I learned how to organize myself and go for it, whatever it was… Press calls? Immigration advocacy? Protests? Graduate school? Therapy? D.C. has taught me how to be creative, self-sufficient, and ultimately about what I’m interested in doing as a career. D.C. has also helped me realize how much I yearn for those sunny Alabama Sunday afternoons. That younger me saw the world with much less nuance. In my 27th year, I know that the world doesn’t exist in a binary or a vacuum.

This sentiment has shown up a lot for me in anticipation of this summer and in the first few days of my arrival. I’ve been an excited, nervous, sad, and sentimental mess the last few weeks of prepping for my summer with CPI Kenya. But, it’s helped me remember that all of these emotions can be true at once.

Realizing there can be multiple truths in a situation can be overwhelming and scary. Being outside your comfort zone, whether it’s mentally or physically, isn’t easy. I tend to forget this every time I go abroad and miss my home, my people, my pets. That’s why I like thinking about travel as a practice of being a student wherever you are. That’s some of what I hope to carry with me this summer. I hope to be able to remind myself to take a deep breath in and then keep taking in new ideas, culture, language and find new ways to think about the planet we inhabit.

I’ve already been able to practice this in just my first week. My welcome in Kenya has been unparalleled to any of my prior travel experiences. Monica, one of CPI Kenya’s co-founders, the staff at CPI Kenya, and the sisters at the Franciscan Family Center have been so incredibly kind. On my first day, Monica helped me get my Kenyan SIM card, grabbed lunch with me, and drove me to see the office ahead of my first day. The same kind of hospitality can be said for the sisters at the Franciscan Family Center who always made a point of asking how I was and making me feel so welcomed at their home.

Monica and I running some errands.

At the same time, I’ve come to be extremely grateful for my routine in D.C. I arrived at the Franciscan Family Center at 1:00 am after a 24 hour travel day, and the jet lag has since taken me on a ride. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t miss my husband, our cats, or the routine of our daily life. I cry, attempt to get some semblance of a sleep routine, and try to connect with people around me. But it reminded me that in this practice, there are ups and there are also downs. And they can be happening at the same time.

At the end of the day it’s a practice of balancing those different parts of me: the Alabama girl that can go with the flow and enjoy the grass beneath her feet, and the young professional who does what it takes to get things done. This summer is going to be an adventure, and I’m excited to see what lies ahead. I imagine I’ll have plenty more opportunities to practice being a student during my 10 weeks working with CPI Kenya!

Rubpan’s Fish Curry

February 12, 2022 4:43 pm Leave a Comment

Saleha (left) and Rubpan cook for the Subornogram community feeding kitchen on Mayadip and prepare a hot meal every day for families in need. Rupban’s fish curry is famous on the island and we invite you to try it out and let us know what you think! It may be a bit hot and spicy for some, so make sure to adjust to your own taste!

Ingredients:

Firm white fish (such as cod) – 1.5 lbs

Potatoes, cubed – 2

Onions – 4 small or 2 large

Tomatoes, chopped – 2

Cilantro leaves – 3 tablespoons

Turmeric powder – 2 Teaspoons, divided (Turmeric is added 3 different times)

Salt to taste- about 2 Teaspoons, divided (Salt is added 3 different times)

Red chili powder – 2-3 Teaspoons, divided (Red chili powder is added 3 different times)

Cinnamon stick – 2/3 of one stick

Cumin seeds – 1 Teaspoon

Dry red chili, any variety – 1

Bay leaf – 1

Star anise – 1

Green cardamom – 2 pods

Cloves – 6-7

Ginger garlic paste – Finely chop 2 Tbs fresh ginger root and 4 large garlic cloves, mash together

Cumin powder – 1 Teaspoon

Coriander powder – 1.5 Teaspoons

Garam masala – 2 Teaspoons, divided (Garam masala is added 2 different times)

Red chili paste – 1 Tablespoon

Black pepper powder – 3/4 Teaspoon

Green chili – 1 3oz tin

Ghee – 1 Tablespoon

Mustard oil, Soyabean oil, or Canola oil – 6-7 Table Spoon, divided (Oil is used twice)

Water- About 1 – 1½ cups

Cooking

Marinate the fish with turmeric powder (½ teaspoon), salt (½ teaspoon), red chili powder (1 teaspoon), oil (2 tablespoons) Let this rest for 2 hours.

Marinate the potato with little salt (½ teaspoon) & turmeric powder(½ teaspoon),.

Heat a pan add 5 Table Spoon oil & let heat, add marinated potato & fry till golden brown, take potatoes out from oil now add whole spices (7 Italicized ingredients) into the oil & fry for few seconds. Then add chopped onion & fry till golden brown, now add ginger garlic paste & fry for 2 min, add turmeric powder (1 teaspoon) & red chili powder (1 teaspoon) & fry for 1 min.

Add a little water & mix well, add cumin powder, coriander powder, garam masala (1 teaspoon), mix well, add red chili paste & chopped tomatoes, add salt to taste (½ to 1 teaspoon) & mix well cover the pan & cook for 3-4 min. After 4 min stir it & fry it for another 2 min, now add the fish & fried potatoes.

Mix well & fry for 6-7 min after 7 min adds water for gravy, garam masala (1 teaspoon), black pepper powder, green chili, ghee & coriander leaves mix well. Then cover the pan & cook for 10 min on low flame after 10 min turns off the flame, garnish with coriander leaves & serve hot with roti/rice.

Enjoy!

Email us with feedback! DCoffice@advocacynet.org

Khady Mbengue

September 9, 2021 3:07 pm Leave a Comment

I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a few of the women that OPEN SARL works with in Thiaroye (a neighborhood in Dakar) over the past few months. AP and OPEN have been collaborating to host an embroidery project when a few women have started learning how to embroider. In line with other AP projects, this collaboration will support women affected by migration, helping them share their stories and empowering them to collaborate and work together toward a common goal.

One of the first women I met was Khady Mbengue. Like many other women in the area she sells fruits and vegetables at small kiosks off of major roads in order to support her family. Her husband works as a Mason, but his income isn’t enough to support their child, her brother’s children, and her parents. She works tirelessly to supplement their income while raising her five year old, but it still isn’t enough.

Like most families in the area, Khady has two brothers who attempted to immigrate to the Canary Islands. One of our first days of training all of the women spoke about their experiences with loved ones taking the dangerous trip to the Canary Islands. Khady recounted her experience with her two brothers, both of whom attempted to immigrate.

Her first brother, Ibrahima, left in 2020. He left in the night, selling most of his belongings to finance the trip. He left a wife and his one year old child. She didn’t hear from him for a number of days and found out later on that he died while at sea. With pain in her voice, she explained how the other men in the boat threw his body out to sea. They never found the body. There has been no closure for her or her family. Burial practices are very important in Islam and she worries that they will never be able to bury him.

Her second brother, Abdou Karim, left later the same year. While his life was spared, Khady explains that he came back a different person. Like most who attempt to migrate, the trip is difficult and many suffer from mental health issues upon return. A social taboo within Senegalese society, most people don’t talk about these issues and services are lacking. For Khady and her family, this has been a difficult new reality for them. Her brother doesn’t work, something she attributes to the change in her brother’s mental state. Without her two brothers, Khady and the rest of her family have had to work hard to support her parents and brother’s family.

Khady’s story exemplifies the pernicious effects that a lack of opportunity and stability can have on communities. All of the women I’ve spoken with in Thiaroye reference a lack of employment opportunities and the inability to support families that push their youth to make the dangerous journey across the Atlantic. While this phenomenon isn’t new, there has been a recent surge in the number of youth attempting to migrate to the Canary Islands in recent years. As Senegal experiences its most recent wave of covid-19, and the long-term economic impacts of the pandemic set in, it is likely that more and more Senegalese will attempt this route.

Senegalese projects must take a multi-pronged approach to migration in Senegal if they hope to address all of its ripple effects. One key issue chronically neglected is the impact migration has on family members. These projects must support local projects that engage youth and create viable employment opportunities, but they must also support projects initiated by family members negatively impacted by migration. There is a void left when migrants don’t return or return changed. It creates a burden on communities that can undermine development projects if left unaddressed. For Khady, like so many other women, these issues continue to affect their daily lives.

Returned Migrant Raps Experience – Diardiarou Mbeugeumeu

August 18, 2021 5:33 pm Leave a Comment

Ama Ndiaye Thiombane is a returned migrant from Sendou who works hard at an export warehouse in Dakar. I had the pleasure of meeting Ama on my first visit to Sendou. He was quiet and warm-hearted, telling me about his experience attempting to migrate to the Canary Islands. He explained that he wanted to be a rapper and had even rapped about his experience at sea. He expressed his desire to be a rapper, above all else, but wanted to find work that could support his parents. He knew that traveling to Spain would bring him the best opportunity to do this.

Ama has attempted to migrate to the Canary Islands in September 2020 and was unsuccessful. He started working at the warehouse three years ago. He says the work is good, but the pay isn’t enough. He says he is luckier than most. He is not sure what the future holds for him but said that he intends to stay in Senegal now, the trip was very hard for him.

He hopes to spread the word about the difficulties he and others in his community face. His rap highlights the struggles many youth endure in Senegal and the difficult decisions they have to make. He acknowledges the emotional stress families experience when their loved ones risk migrating to Europe, and cautions others not to leave. His message, like so many others, paints a picture of the complex and difficult decision that most youth grapple with in Senegal. Ama explained that he is one of the lucky ones. He has decided to stay in Senegal and try to make a living. Many others have made the opposite decision.

Title: Diardiarou Mbeugeumeu “Lived in immigration”

Artist: Papa Mbissa Boy (Ama Ndiaye Thiombane)

Lyrics:

I take the boat,

To go to Spain

Death or Barça

Senegal is hard

The youth wanted to go to help their families

The poor do not accept to die of poverty, for what?

Because if you don’t have the money,

Nobody takes you seriously

If you’re sick,

You don’t have money to take care of yourself

Stroke, ebola, your ASC sacrifices you, Corona kills you

Senegal is hard

Alioune and Arona,

I don’t want you to live like me

Senegal is hard

The voyage is hard

When we were four days out, the problems started

It began during the night

Monsters show their faces and devour people

Afterwards, those who perished, we threw into the sea

Mom, thank the good Lord

Because I returned

It’s tiring

I came back, but I lost a lot of things

Hearts are filled with sorrow

We want prosperity,

That’s why we’re tired

Our parents are tired too

If you know if you’re going or not,

Because you have listened here

Before doing something, you have to think carefully

If you don’t, you’ll regret it

Those who are present,

My grandmother told me not to rush

The road is long, it’s hard and tiring,

but that’s life, life is difficult

Don’t rush for your life to change quickly

We’re going to get there believing in the good Lord

If you don’t give up, it’s gonna come soon

God is great, it’s over

*ASC = Cultural & Sports Association

Aissata Ndiaye

August 16, 2021 5:43 pm Leave a Comment

CW: This article contains content that may be triggering for some. It mentions Rape, Abuse, and Slavery.

All persons referenced in this article have consented to having their story published

I was fortunate enough to meet Aissata Ndiaye through Fatimata “Neene” Sy, one of my initial contacts in Senegal. Fatimata saw Aissata speak intimately about her experiences trying to migrate to Europe during a news interview on television one day. Fatimata, who is well-connected with various organizations and associations throughout Senegal, found Aissata’s number and called her with me. She introduced herself, explained who we are, and set up a time for all of us to meet.

Upon meeting Aissata for the first time, I immediately admired her passion and devotion to supporting the next generation of Senegalese youth. We met with a number of returned migrants who all experienced difficulties while attempting to reach Europe. The meeting consisted of a group of women who had migrated, often being exploited or abused during the journey.

After we introduced ourselves and spoke about our work and objectives, the women opened up about their experiences. They talked about wanting to support their families and the lack of opportunities available in Senegal. They also expressed their frustration with racism, the persistence of forced labor and slavery, and various forms of physical and sexual abuse that often occur when migrating to Europe.

One woman, Hawa Bah (name changed to protect her identity), remained quiet throughout the meeting and left halfway throughout the stories. Aissata later explained her situation. Her family had arranged a marriage to which she did not consent. They expected her to drop out of school in the process. One night she stole one of her family’s cows and sold it to fund her escape to Europe. She took the land route from Mali, to Algeria, and eventually to Morocco. She was captured there, imprisoned and raped continuously for days before her friends helped her escape. Aissata explained how Hawa has been unable to return to her family, who blames her for her being raped and is unwilling to accept her. Aissata tries to support her, but it is difficult without consistent work and chronically low wages. She explained how Hawa needs mental health services, but has not received any support from organizations or the government. Unfortunately, this story is not unique; all of the women who met that day shared similar stories of abuse and turmoil. Traveling to Europe through irregular routes is dangerous, and European policies make it even harder.

Aissata recounted her story and the difficulties she encountered along the way as well. While not possible for most, she originally received a visa to study in Russia and lived in Moscow for a year as an international student. She explained how education is undervalued in Senegal because even those who study hard and graduate cannot find work. The only education path that can secure a stable job is to study abroad. Even so, she explained how pernicious racism was and the difficulties she faced while abroad. She, too, didn’t want to go into detail about her experiences in Russia, but explained how Western Europe seemed a more viable option for her to continue her studies. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to secure a visa and was left with few options. She ended up risking the dangerous crossing from Morocco to Spain in order to seek asylum and continue her studies afterwards. She coordinated with someone to smuggle her into Spain, and then left Russia for Morocco.

Once in Morocco she was brought via “auto mafia” to a hiding place along the coast of Morocco. She then boarded an inflatable eight-person dinghy with twelve other migrants. While onboard, the weather changed drastically and a storm threw them off-course. They were capsized and five migrants lost their lives (four Senegalese men and one Ivoirien woman). The survivors were brought to the hospital. Quickly afterwards, however, they were imprisoned, tortured, and made to walk from Oudja, Morocco to Algeria, and then was brought to Niger. It wasn’t until they arrived in Niger that IOM intervened and sent them back to Senegal. They were promised support by the Senegalese government, but have received nothing to-date.

Since her return, she has been an active volunteer, advocating for social and educational reform to better support Senegal’s youth. She formed Mouvement Jeunesse Nouvelle Vision (New Vision Youth Movement), a youth-based advocacy association, with other returned migrants in order to promote social change among Senegalese youth. She explains how youth lack employment opportunities and see no viable future in Senegal. International and national projects have failed them and most see emigration as the only chance to support their families. She references failed government agreements to sell fishing rights and how they have stripped many coastal communities of their ability to make a living at sea. The result has demoralized Senegalese youth. These projects have convinced many that the government won’t implement programs that benefit them, and actually make it harder to support their families. This mentality has become ingrained in the culture of the current generation.

Aissata hopes that her association will be able to work across Senegal to address the gaps left by government projects, fostering a new vision for the future that focuses on creating opportunity and investing in Senegal among local communities. She explained how hard this process will be given the lack of current opportunity, the problematic development projects currently underway, and the lack of morale.

Her vision for the future involves working directly with rural communities and women to develop their own projects. She hopes to foster an environment where everyone has access to educational opportunities that will lead to actual work. She believes that with the right environment and proper support, people will stop risking their lives to migrate to Europe. “It is absolutely possible. I have a lot of ideas. We have the land, water, and space to work and support our families, but without assistance from the government and organizations we can’t do anything. We need support to realize our new vision.”

I have confidence that if projects in Senegal shifted focus, and supported and invested in women like Aissata, that there would be much more opportunity and support for the most vulnerable populations. Aissata collaborates with several groups to foster the change she hopes to initiate within her community and beyond. She has a clear vision, but lacks the resources necessary to initiate these programs. She explains that the truly marginalized are often excluded from development projects, but hopes to change that—mobilizing volunteers in every region, every ethnic group, and every language to realize a new vision for a better and stronger Senegal.

Two Women of Women in Action for Women in Northern Uganda Advocate for ICC Reparations

August 6, 2021 11:09 am Leave a Comment

*Trigger warning: sexual violence*

In January 2004, the Government of Uganda (GoU) referred itself to the judgement of the International Criminal Court (ICC) for war crimes and crimes against humanity perpetrated by the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) in Northern Uganda.

For context, the LRA is a rebel group that operated from 1987-2006 in Northern Uganda, where they unsuccessfully fought to establish an independent Acholi government ruling according to the Ten Commandments under the leadership of the self-declared prophet Joseph Kony. They are infamous for abducting approximately 30,000 children, who were forced to serve as soldiers, and domestic servants and wives to commanders. In these capacities, forced conscripts suffered unspeakable hardships.

Much literature has been written on the GoUs self-referral. The overwhelming consensus is that the GoU hoped to gain international legitimacy in the fight against the LRA. Indeed, the 2004 budget proves that point; donors provided some 50 percent of the total budget, with the cost of defence amounting to 23 percent, and that of public administration to 22 percent of total government expenditure. Donations inadvertently entrenched Museveni’s patronage system, and supported government corruption.

The ICC issued warrants against Joseph Kony, who remains at large, and three other LRA commanders, including Raska Lukwiya and Okot Odhiambo, who have since died, and Dominic Ongwen, who was sentenced to 25 years of imprisonment for a total of 61 crimes comprising crimes against humanity and war crimes on February 4, 2021. In accordance with article 79 of the Rome Statute, the ICC may order money collected to benefit victims of crimes and their families. Since 2004, the Trust Fund for Victims has been responsible for implementing Court-ordered reparations, and providing psychological, physical, and material support to victims and their families. According to Resolution 60/147, adopted by the General Assembly on March 21, 2006, victims constitute

“persons who individually or collectively suffered harm, including physical or mental injury, emotional suffering, economic loss or substantial impairment of their fundamental rights, through acts or omissions that constitute gross violations of international human rights law, or serious violations of international humanitarian law. Where appropriate, and in accordance with domestic law, the term “victim” also includes the immediate family or dependents of the direct victim and persons who have suffered harm in intervening to assist victims in distress or to prevent victimization.”

In the specific case of Ongwen, victims are those who suffered harm as a result of his command over the Sinai brigade of the LRA between 1 July 2002 and 31 December 2005. Although Ongwen himself was a child soldier, he “was aware of the powers he held, and he took sustained action to assert his commanding position, including by the maintenance of a ruthless disciplinary system, abduction of children to replenish his forces, and the distribution of female abductees to his subordinates as so-called ‘wives,’” per the ICC’s decision on the confirmation of charges on March 23, 2016.

Two eligible victims are Victoria Nyanjura and Akello Margaret of an AP Partner organization in Northern Uganda called Women in Action for Women (WAW) that seeks to transform vocational training into livelihood opportunities to improve members’ economic, social, and political lives.

Victoria and Margaret were both abductees in the Sinai brigade within the indicated timeframe. The founder of WAW, Victoria was abducted by the Lord’s Resistance Army when she was 14 years old. After eight years in captivity, she returned with two children from her forced marriage to a rebel commander. Please listen to her story in greater detail here.

Like Victoria, Margaret was abducted as a child — at the young age of 10 while in second grade. She describes her experience:

I was forcefully given to a man to live with as his wife at an early age. I was beaten. We walked long distances carrying heavy luggage before I was rescued by the government soldiers in a close battle where the gunships, helicopters, and foot soldiers were all over. I remember that the caretaker of my eldest child disappeared, and I had to look for her. I then went with the government soldiers to look for my child and the caretaker. The soldiers almost shot at us thinking that we were soldiers wanting to fight them.

Life has been so hard ever since I returned because I had no home to return to; I lost my parents, and have nobody to look after me. I also got a man and we had 2 children, but he left me with them. It hurts me so much how these men act nice but end up hurting us further. I do not have any skills that can help me earn a living, but would like to learn how to make cakes and bread. There is a large market for them, and I am very sure it would help me to earn and be able to provide for my children and myself.”

This summer, AP successfully connected Victoria and Margaret to a member of the Trust Fund for Victims in Kampala, Uganda, who will help them file for reparations under the Ongwen verdict. AP will continue to monitor their progress, and advocate for their right to reparations.

Pape Moussé

August 3, 2021 4:07 pm 2 Comments

I first met Pape Moussé while meeting with Naatal Sendou, a community association focused on developing Sendou through locally-organized activities that seek to create employment opportunities for youth. The first time we spoke, he was eager to share his experiences and talk about his goals in life. A local fisherman, he is a husband and father to five children. He spoke about his desire to support his family, send his children to school, and to build a house. Even though he worked hard fishing every day, he found that he couldn’t provide for his family. Like many of his friends and family at the time, in 2004 Pape Moussé decided to take his chances migrating to the Canary Islands by pirogue (a traditional fishing boat in Senegal).

With the support of his wife and family, Pape Moussé worked endlessly for months to save up the money required to pay for this trip. He explained that the average cost per trip is between 300,000-500,000CFA (544-906USD). The trip (approximately 1500km or 940mi) can take up to seven days assuming there aren’t any complications. Pape Moussé was returned to Senegal in 2004 after a failed attempt to reach the islands, but that did not deter him. He has attempted the arduous journey four times, failing every time.

Throughout his four attempts to reach the Canary Islands Pape Moussé experienced several hardships, including running out of food and water; flooding from storms, infighting; and losing comrades due to illness and dehydration. He explained that many migrants onboard didn’t grow up by the sea and would panic or fall ill due to sea sickness. Unable to eat or drink, they would become weak and pass away. Fellow migrants then had to make the difficult decision and threw the body into the sea. His expressions were removed and detached as he explained this horrific scene, indicating that he tries to distance himself from these painful memories.

In spite of these experiences Pape Moussé attempted to migrate again in 2018. In order to increase his chances of success he travelled to the capital of Mauritania, Nouakchott. Approximately 500km (310mi) closer to the Canary Islands, he worked in the capital city for five months in order to save up for the trip. Unfortunately, Mauritanian officials caught them and he was detained for several days. They confiscated all of his belongings (money, phone, etc.) and beat him. He suffered sustained injuries to his leg as a result. Senegalese officials intervened and he arrived in the border town of Rosso, Senegal, injured, broke, and without his phone.

After his last experience, Pape Moussé explains that he is hesitant to migrate again. He has shifted focus, and now hopes to invest in livestock as a means of livelihood. He expresses his frustration and concern about transitioning into animal husbandry: he lacks the financial means to buy and properly raise livestock, and land easements within Sendou for a development project call into question the viability of this idea as well. For the moment, Pape Moussé continues to fish, working longer hours and traveling further and further out in search of a good catch. “I am a worker,” he says. He works hard, but he still struggles. While he expresses his desire to stay home and work to support his family, he doesn’t rule out the idea of migrating again if the opportunity arises.

OPEN SARL Helps Women & Youth Create Opportunities in Thiaroye

July 28, 2021 4:05 pm 1 Comment

The first time I met with Cheikh Traoré and Fatou Mbaye I was inspired by their mission and work. Founders of the local social enterprise, OPEN SARL, they work to support and connect local community members to financing opportunities to invest in entrepreneurial activities in the community. They help youth and women in Thiaroye secure funding from local financial institutions, acting as advocates and cosigners.

Founded in 2015, the social enterprise has helped approximately 750 community members and cooperatives access funding to create small businesses in commerce, food transformation, fishing, animal husbandry, and farming. Working with local associations and NGOs, Cheikh saw the continuous struggle these groups faced in securing funding for their projects. Motivated to fix this issue, he decided to create a social enterprise (OPEN SARL) that filled this gap, supporting local projects and ideas by helping community members apply for loans through banks. Community members wanted to create employment opportunities to motivate youth to stay in Thiaroye, they just didn’t have the means to do so.

Work does not come easy in Thiaroye, most work in the informal sector or take their chances to migrate to Europe. Several associations and cooperatives have formed in order to pool resources to create opportunities within the community. These efforts are often undermined by a lack of funding or top-down projects that don’t prioritize local needs. Cheikh and Fatou work tediously to identify individuals’ immediate needs and help create a plan to meet these needs.

Fatou explained that women often come to OPEN SARL after a child or husband has left to migrate to Europe. Migrants often sell their possessions to finance the trip, meaning their families are left without a source of income and without support from the migrant. This gamble can pay off if the migrant arrives in Europe, but oftentimes they face refoulement (a process of denying entry and repatriating someone) or are never heard from again. This situation forces many women to seek better paying opportunities to support their families. Women will often take up food transformation but lack the initial capital to invest in the opportunity. OPEN SARL helps these women secure financing for these entrepreneurial activities. Without OPEN SARL, most would not be approved for financing or the rates would be too high.

While funding is crucial to supporting community members and creating employment opportunities in Thiaroye, Cheikh and Fatou acknowledge the importance of trainings, and other skill-building activities, if these projects are to succeed. They see their collaboration with AP as an opportunity to provide financial and training opportunities to locals, ensuring that everyone has the resources necessary to achieve their goals, creating durable work that can support their families.

European Policies Put Migrants in Danger

July 13, 2021 10:34 am 4 Comments

It would be misleading to focus on the motivating factors that contribute to Senegalese youths’ decisions to migrate without also addressing the culpability of Europeans who inhibit migrants from safely traveling and arriving in their countries of destination. Restrictive migration policies and militarized border controls have made it nearly impossible for most Senegalese to migrate to Europe through regular channels.

Migration within West Africa remains a vital economic adaptation strategy for Senegalese youth. The lack of opportunity in Senegal pushes many to take their chance migrating to Europe, and EU policies have done little to stop this trend. Instead, these policies have just made migrating more costly and more dangerous for most. As of 2019, over 10% of migrants died attempting to secure financial stability for their families in Europe.

Despite this reality, Europe continues to invest in problematic governance campaigns and top-down development projects in an attempt to stymie migrant flows. International migration entities, such as IOM and UNHCR, focus on reducing the dangers for those seeking refuge or a better opportunity to support their families, but they fail to focus on the root cause of this danger—the externalization and securitization of borders that intentionally exclude migrants.

The European Union Trust Fund for Africa (EUTF) stands as a prime example of this problematic externalization and development strategy. Implemented between 2015 and 2020, the EUTF prioritized border management and increased governance in countries of origin. This initiative did little to facilitate or open up opportunities for Senegalese youth to migrate to Europe or seek better opportunities, especially those with less education. Instead, the EUTF attempted to make strict migration policies a priority in countries like Senegal through governance and border control programs.

Local Senegalese organizations criticize European migration policies, arguing they exacerbate irregular migration since Senegalese migrants continue to adapt their migration strategies around stricter policies. Such policies threaten to stymie regional migration, destabilize regional economic growth, reduce resiliency, and exacerbate dangerous and irregular migration channels to Europe.

The EU presented a New Pact on Migration and Asylum in September 2020. It seeks to bolster bilateral agreements between the EU and African countries to “improve” migration management within countries. What is troubling about the New Pact is that it further shifts focus away from development and facilitating migration, emphasizing migration management and border control instead. It also threatens countries into compliance by blackmailing countries that refuse to adopt bilateral agreements with the EU on regulating and controlling migration—reducing or eliminating their visa programs.

Migration remains a highly politicized issue within Europe. Any policy that seeks to increase migration management and border security will inevitably inhibit migrants from migrating safely, pushing them into precarious situations of irregular migration. Unfortunately, it is the migrants, themselves, who suffer from this politicization. So long as Europe refuses to address their complicity in creating the dangerous conditions in which migrants find themselves, migrants will continue to die.

“Barsa wala Barsakh”

June 25, 2021 9:43 am 2 Comments

The primary motivating factor for Senegalese youth to migrate stems from a desire to support their family and create stability and opportunity within their communities: most returned migrants mention wanting to feed their families, build a house for their mother, or supporting their younger siblings’ education etc. Unfortunately, this modest goal remains impossible for most.

Agriculture and fisheries account for 69 percent of the labor force in Senegal, but these jobs have become increasingly impracticable due to changing market forces and climate change. Yields in both sectors have dwindled with the increased competition from foreign commercial fisheries and degradation of arable land due to desertification in the Sahel. The result has left numerous communities unable to continue work in these sectors as they can no longer meet their basic needs.

Several national and international programs seek to address these issues by investing in development projects and diversifying the Senegalese market. On paper, these programs showcase Senegal as a success story. In reality, these projects have fallen short in benefitting the most affected Senegalese communities, often having a pernicious effect instead.

Fishermen hard at work in Bargny

Sendou-Bargny, a small neighborhood in the suburbs of Dakar, stands as a primary example. A productive fishing village, the community has been crippled by bilateral fishing agreements with foreign fisheries. These foreign companies use large fishing vessels and trawling techniques that deplete fish populations. Local subsistence fishermen have a hard time competing with these larger companies, often hauling in small catches or traveling extreme distances in search of a profitable yield. Most fishermen report issues securing enough income to support their families.

To compound this issue, Sendou-Bargny has been the focus of a development project through The Plan for an Emerging Senegal (Plan Sénégal Emergent). Through decree 2019-1318 Senegal agreed to partner with Turkish metallurgy company, Tosyali Holding Senegal, to create a 100 HA special economic zone that will produce steel. The government seized this land to begin its development project, but the project has stalled. Locals, who largely oppose the development project, worry about pollution and the effect this steel plant will have on the already vulnerable fishing sector.

Bargny coal factory, another development initiative that sparked wide protests from locals

The situation in Sendou-Bargny remains precarious for most: fishing is no longer a viable option due to competition; the seizure of land has rendered food transformation practices, agriculture, and animal husbandry unrealistic within the area; Tosyali’s reported 1200 new jobs will not replace the resulting loss of jobs the community will face; most locals will probably be “unqualified” for the positions created due to a lack of experience working in an industrial setting; and pollution from the plant will inhibit growth in other sectors that rely on the water supply and land.

The story in Sendou-Bargny is not unique; countless communities across Senegal face similar circumstances. The result has been rural-urban population shifts as people leave their hometowns to live in Dakar or other urban centers. However, the large influx of people into these areas with similar skills and goals has exacerbated the issue, resulting in extreme levels of unemployment.

It seems only logical, under these circumstances, why so many people opt to migrate, even as Europe continues its policies of securitization and externalization. To many, migrating to Europe stands as their only opportunity to provide for their families, whether to feed their family, build a house for their mother, or to pay for their siblings’ education. “Barsa wala Barsakh” has become a common phrase used by many Senegalese who try to leave. Translated from Wolof, it means “Barcelona or death”.

Covid-19 in Senegal: When is it the right time to travel?

June 20, 2021 9:05 am 2 Comments

As many countries begin their transition into a post-pandemic era, the global disparities in vaccine distribution has become a glaring ethical issue. The inequitable distribution in vaccines continues to leave countries, such as Senegal, in a vulnerable position where the risk of another spike in cases remains an ever-present threat. The effects, however, extend beyond public health and safety.

An increasingly relevant topic, the realities of the pandemic have exacerbated the lack of economic opportunity for Senegalese youth. As covid-19 closures disrupt the global and local economies, migration has become the only option for many. Most people who decide to migrate cite the lack of employment as the primary motivating factor. Met with border closures and strict entry policies, however, many of these individuals remain stuck—at home or abroad—in a precarious situation with no viable prospects.

Accepting the Peace Fellowship in Senegal forced me to grapple with these global inequities directly. While shops, restaurants, and theaters continue to open up in the US with the increase in vaccination rates, Senegal remains in the middle of its pandemic efforts. Most international programs shut down or reduced their in-country staff during the past year and these programs have yet to resume abroad. Speaking with numerous Senegalese contacts about the pandemic and relying on CDC recommendations and WHO data convinced me that now is the right time.

The enthusiasm and expressed need for global support in Senegal indicate a need for the global community to come together and address these disparities—both in public health and economically—that weigh heavily on people’s daily lives. I don’t believe it is my decision to make regarding how or when work will resume in Senegal. Communities will make the best decision for themselves and I have responded accordingly, doing all that I can to amplify their voices and support their work.

Continuing best practices (i.e. wearing face masks, social distancing, and being vaccinated), I believe I can conscientiously and effectively minimize the risks to myself and others while simultaneously amplifying the voices and stories of returned migrants and their families. That said, the global community and Senegal have a lot of work to do before Senegal can begin to look beyond the pandemic.

Source: Our World in Data

To-date, only 3 percent of the Senegalese population has received a vaccine against covid-19. Contrasted with the world and US vaccine percentages (21 percent and 53 percent, respectively) it is clear that the pandemic continues to disproportionately affect Senegal, and other countries with similar barriers to vaccine accessibility. COVAX and ACT-A initiatives promise to close these gaps, but their delayed rollout and lack of transparency call into question the short-term impacts these programs will have in Senegal. During my time in Senegal, I will continue listening to the communities where I work and bring awareness to the issues they face.

Georgia’s Step in the Wrong Direction

June 18, 2021 12:39 pm 3 Comments

Over the past year, it seems that the world has gone through an awakening. The deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery have drawn attention to the widespread racial disparities, and systemic racism that still substantially impact our society today. This new awareness has prompted discussions on inclusion and tolerance and has brought a new wave of proposals and policies that aim to advance progress. However, Georgia’s board of education has taken an enormous step in the wrong direction, and voted to adopt a resolution that would prevent Critical Race theory from being taught in public schools.

Critical Race theory is the idea that racism is a systemic problem that has existed since the very foundation of America, rather than something expressed on an individual basis. It challenges color blindness, which is the idea that everyone is granted the same opportunities in life, and points out that people are currently given different opportunities because of their race. This difference exists not just because of racial bias, but also as a result of historic oppression that has suppressed groups of people, and because of racism buried in legal policies and systems.

While most schools in Georgia do not explicitly teach critical race theory, many have incorporated certain aspects into their curriculum which may now be banned. For example, schools often teach history from multiple perspectives. This includes pointing out many of the founding fathers were slave owners, explaining that slaves were defined as three-fifths of a person in the constitution, and detailing racist practices that existed after the abolition of slavery, like Jim Crow and redlining. Our country’s history is rife with oppression, and many teachers attempt to demonstrate how that history is part of the story of the United States and still contributes to white privilege now.

Unfortunately, the resolution would effectively censor educators and interfere with students’ ability to think critically while denying the systemic racism in our country. Under the resolution, educators would be prohibited from teaching that “… with respect to their relationship to American values, slavery and racism are anything other than deviations from, betrayals of, or failures to live up to, the authentic founding principles of the United States, which include liberty and equality…” and that “meritocracy or traits such as a hard work ethic are racist or sexist, or were created by members of a particular race to oppress members of another race”. In effect, this would erase the historical context and deny the very real existence of white privilege in our society.

Start of an Exciting Journey

June 10, 2021 7:13 pm 4 Comments

I started working for the Advocacy Project as a Peace Fellow the last week. There are a couple of projects I work on. In this blog, I want to discuss why I am super excited to support a soap-making project and the WASH (Water, Sanitation, and Hygiene) Project to install accessible toilets in Uganda. I will provide some data about the accessibility of the water, sanitation, and hygiene services in the region. I am sure the numbers make you surprised and convinced of how vital to work to improve the conditions over there!

First of all, water, sanitation, and hygiene (WASH) are critical to health, survival, and development. Many countries are challenged in providing these services for their entire populations, leaving people at risk for WASH-related diseases. People living in rural areas, urban slums, disaster-prone areas, and low-income countries are the most vulnerable and the most affected.

Water
According to CDC, 785 million people today do not have basic access to water. Finding effective and sustainable solutions for water supplies is significant regarding the fact that 30 to 40 percent of the rural water supply in low-income countries does not work.

Sanitation & Hygiene
Lack of sanitation can be a severe barrier to individual prosperity and sustainable development. Sanitation is essential for all, helping to maintain health and increase life-spans. According to the WHO, an estimated 2.4 billion people lack basic sanitation throughout the world (more than 32% of the world’s population), while 673 million people practice “open defecation.”

Children
The consequences of unsafe water, sanitation, and hygiene on children can be deadly. Many children living in impoverished urban settlements, like slums, are deprived of their drinking water and sanitation rights. UNICEF reported that over 800 children under age five die every day from preventable diarrhea-related diseases due to the lack of appropriate WASH services worldwide. Three billion people worldwide, including hundreds of millions of school-going children, do not have access to handwashing facilities with soap. When children, especially girls, cannot access private and decent sanitation facilities in their schools or learning environments, their right to education is basically restricted. These all have severe implications on their health, nutrition, education, and learning abilities, which prevent a child from achieving his or her full potential.

Africa
According to UNICEF, when it comes to Eastern and Southern Africa, more than 70 percent of the population (340 million people) has no access to essential sanitation services. Among these, 98 million people (19 percent) practice open defecation, 179 million use unimproved facilities, and 63 million shared sanitation facilities. Ethiopia, Uganda, Kenya, and Tanzania have the largest number of people in the region with no access to basic sanitation services. Eritrea, South Sudan, and Ethiopia have the largest proportions and numbers of people practicing open defecation. In schools, over 50 million (27 percent) school-age children have no access to sanitation services, while 117 million (62 percent) have no access to handwashing facilities in schools.

The Trend Over Years
You might think that the percentage of the people who have access to WASH services increases adequately as time passes. Unfortunately, the pace of increase in access to essential sanitation services is quite far away from the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). Access to essential sanitation services in communities has only increased by 6 percent since 2000. There were more people without basic water and sanitation services in 2017 than there were in 2000 in the world!

Uganda
I prepared two charts according to data derived from the World Bank’s DataBank. Charts depict people with basic handwashing facilities and people using at least essential sanitation services in Uganda. Because data is available only for the period between 2000 and 2017, we can track the trend over 17 years.

You can see the percentage of people with basic handwashing facilities, including soap and water, in figure 1. Until 2013, there had been a slight increase in the rate of the population who have access to basic handwashing facilities. Access to handwashing facilities in the total population increased by 6.7 percent in 4 years and reached 21 percent in 2017. However, there is a significant disparity between rural and urban areas. From 2013 to 2017, people with access to handwashing facilities increased by 11% in rural areas; the number reached 19% in urban areas.

Figure 2 shows how urgent working for providing better and sustainable WASH services is essential for essential sanitation services. As you can see from the chart, there has been a slight increase among the total population and urban population who use at least essential sanitation services. Interestingly, the percentage of people having access to sanitation services in urban areas had decreased by 4.2% percent over 17 years! There must have been a constant increase over the years to achieve the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals for Uganda. Rather than seeing a continuous improvement in the region, we face a situation that has been worsened over the years.

This quick introduction and data presented make me super motivated to support the community-based response to one of Uganda’s most pressing problems – the lack of WASH services at primary schools and soap making. Besides, the Advocacy Project’s vision of working directly with local communities, planning the agenda according to local people’s demands, and giving immense importance to their feedback make me more excited. I do believe that the inclusion of local communities in projects is an indispensable part of fostering sustainable development and peace over the region. I will talk more about this in another blog!

A Comedy of Errors: Travel in the Time of COVID

June 8, 2021 7:37 am 2 Comments

I made sure to take a PCR test within 24-hours of my flight’s departure from New York City to Amsterdam. It is a requirement for passengers travelling to the Netherlands to test within 24-hours. I wasn’t sure about passengers merely passing through the airport, but to be safe I took my test on Friday before flying out Saturday evening at 6:30 p.m.

My PCR appointment was initially scheduled for 4:00 p.m. on Friday, but it was moved to 6:00 p.m., and then to 8:00 p.m. Not a problem, the company assured me: I would still receive my result by 3:00 p.m. the next day — in time to print my results before heading to the airport. I spent Saturday morning packing and relaxing, and at around 1:00 p.m. went out to a delicious Italian lunch with my parents.

When I got back to the house, I had two missed calls on my phone from the testing company. They had left a voicemail: “‘Hi…we are unable to get in touch with the lab and don’t think we’ll have your result by 3:00 p.m. I am so sorry about this. We are going to reimburse you because we guaranteed that you would have the result by 3:00 p.m. Please call back when you get this message.'” A chill momentarily passed through my body. This wasn’t according to plan. “It’s OK,” I assured myself, “I’m sure you’ll have the result soon.'”

I called back to learn more about the situation. The man told me that the result should have been in at 10:00 a.m. that morning, but that the lab had alerted him at 12:30 p.m. that they hadn’t yet tested the samples they received last night. He wasn’t able to get a hold of the director, but was sending him messages through their secure system. I felt a wave of panic pass through my body. “Ok, but when do you expect to receive the results?” I asked, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “Uhm… we’re not sure. I don’t know if it will be 30 minutes or an hour or two hours because uhm… we don’t want to make another guarantee and uhm… I haven’t been able to get in touch with the lab.” It was 2:30.

He told me that the best idea was to get a rapid test at the airport just in case the results did not come in on time. But didn’t he understand that I had taken a PCR test to avoid getting tested at the airport facility, which was sure to have a long line? “Relax. Calm.” I soothed myself. “It will be fine.”

At 3:00 my parents and I hopped in the car and sped off to the airport — for about 7 minutes, until we hit stop-and-start traffic that was moving so slowly the Bronx River Parkway felt like a parking lot. To make matters worse, the quickest route to the airport — the Hutchinson River Parkway — was closed.

After numerous calls to the company and no lab results to be found, it began to dawn on me that I might not get the results in time to check in for my flight. “Look up other flights,” my dad barked from the driver’s seat. “If you have to wait for results at the airport, you are not going to make your flight in time with this traffic.” My heart began to race; this was turning into a disastrous start to my over 30-hour trip to Gulu. I was no longer in control…

Luckily, a quick Google search told me that KLM offered another flight an hour later to Amsterdam, which would still give me time to make my connecting flight to Uganda. After holding for 20 minutes on KLM’s customer service line, I finally reached a representative. She was able to change my flight with no additional charge. I instantly felt more relieved, but still had to book my testing appointment at the airport. The second time I refreshed the airporting testing website, I found an available appointment at 5:45 p.m. I would barely have enough time to get tested and make my flight, but I had no choice; I booked it. This was going to be tight.

When we arrived at the airport, I hurriedly said goodbye to my parents outside the terminal. I rushed to the bathroom, and then to the testing center. Two people in front of me, about 25 minutes to get results. Not bad. I would be able to test before my allotted appointment. After checking in and paying the $225 fee (!), I was ushered into a room where a nurse took down my information and swabbed my nose. “Can I check in while I wait for my result?” I asked, pressed for time. “No, you need your negative test result,” she told me, with a look of pity on her face. “Don’t worry, though, you have plenty of time,” she cooed soothingly. Relieved, I sat down in the waiting area with renewed hope.

About thirty minutes later my negative result finally came in. It was now 6:00 — just one hour and a half before my flight. I rushed upstairs to check in at Delta, only to find a huge line that snaked outside of the roped area. My jaw nearly dropped to the floor. There was no way I was going to check in on time. Instead of waiting in that long line, I went directly to the designated KLM area, but was turned away by a staff member. “You have to wait in that line,” she told me sternly. I returned dejectedly.

After about 20 minutes, the line had barely moved. “You are all going to miss your flight,” a blunt staff member told the desperate people in line. When someone complained that they had a 7:30 p.m. flight she simply said: “You should have gotten here earlier. You’re going to miss your flight.” There was no way that I was going to miss my flight after the ordeal that I had already been through. I left my bag in line and steamrolled directly to the KLM desk. “My flight is at 7:30, and I need to catch it because I have a connecting flight,” I desperately told the agent. Taking pity on me, he commanded me to hurry up; “if you don’t check in now you’re going to miss your flight” he practically yelled in alarm. I ran back to the line, grabbed the bag I had left behind, and sprinted directly to the desk. I was checked in in under 2 minutes.

Right before checking in, my negative PCR test came in. “What did that matter now” I thought to myself with a self-pitying laugh. I rushed through security and sprinted through the airport until I arrived at my gate. Ironically, there was a long line to check in; apparently I had made it with time to spare. When I finally got to the front of the line around 45 minutes later, I showed the Delta agent the negative test I received at the airport. “Where are you going?” he asked. “Uganda” I told him. After typing the destination into his computer to check the COVID requirements, he reported that I needed a negative PCR test to enter the country, and the test I had showed him was not a PCR test. Chills ran through my body. Forgetting that the 24-hour test was a PCR test, I replied, laughing nervously: “To be safe, I got another test.” I showed him the result from the other test, which had come in just an hour before. “Use that one; it’s better,” he instructed me. He signaled for me to pass through the jetway. Relief poured over me as I realized I had made it.

A New and Familiar Place

June 3, 2021 11:51 am 1 Comment

Stepping out of the airport in Dakar, Senegal, a familiar, if not surreal, sensation washes over me as it hits that I am once again in West Africa. Coming out of a year and a half of isolation and virtual classes the feeling is all at once comforting and overwhelming. The moment quickly fades as I step back into the rhythm of life, trying to get phone credit and haggling with taxi drivers.

Taxi ride from the airport in Dakar

I inform Fatimata “Neene” Sy, one of my Senegalese counterparts, of my arrival and she quickly calls to inform me that she has a family matter to tend to and will not be able to greet me when I arrive at her place. Still worried about me, I assure her that I will arrive just fine—hospitality is an important part of Senegalese culture so I know this matter is important and I don’t want to add to her stress.

As I look out of the window of the taxi, I am again swept up into the familiar scenes and smells of street vendors cooking spiced dibi (West African dish of spiced meat and caramelized onions), people selling peanuts and other items to slow-moving traffic, and livestock calling out from the side of the road. Traffic moves slowly in Dakar, inching its way to the end of Cape Verde Peninsula, towards downtown.

Eventually I arrive at my destination. I quickly settle in and orient myself to my new neighborhood; identifying the nearby boutiques (corner stores), scoping out restaurants, and introducing myself to my neighbors. Speaking French and Pular, I befriend some local merchants who help familiarize me with local prices and taxi routes. It becomes immediately evident that I will have to work on improving my Wolof skills, the lingua franca throughout most of Senegal.

The neighborhood where I’m staying in Dakar

As the Maghrib call to prayer marks the end of the day, I begin to reflect on my presence here and the unique challenges I will likely face connecting with returned migrants. While life continues on the surface, covid-19 leaves its traces in the masks people wear and the lack of physical greetings such as handshakes and cheek kisses that were so ubiquitous before.

Its tracks run deeper, no doubt, and I wonder how I will engage with the community and what building a social network in the midst of a pandemic will look like here. The welcoming and friendly atmosphere that defines Senegal has not disappeared but these new realities have changed the way in which people relate to one another. Despite this, my contacts seem excited and optimistic for my arrival, which gives me confidence.

Ethical Considerations of Travel to Uganda During COVID-19

9:34 am 6 Comments

I have made the decision to stay in Gulu, Uganda for ten weeks this summer as a Peace Fellow with the Advocacy Project (AP). This was not an easy decision, because COVID-19 has painted in stark relief the ethical questions that come with traveling to third-world countries. Inadequate health care, high rates of autoimmune diseases, and widespread poverty make Uganda particularly susceptible to COVID outbreaks, and negative outcomes for sick patients. Given the situation, why did I elect to travel?

Most importantly, AP’s Uganda partners have invited me to come. The Ugandans with whom we work know the on-the-ground situation best, and have assessed the risk of my stay to be minimal enough that the benefits of having an AP partner in Gulu outweighs the costs. Furthermore, the government of Uganda has granted me a tourist visa. In their expert opinion, my entry does not sufficiently risk the wellbeing of the Ugandan people.

I have planned my travel to be as COVID safe as possible. I am fully vaccinated. 24-hours before traveling, I will take a PCR test that I must present before boarding the plane in New York. Upon return to the United States, I will also take a PCR test (available at the Entebbe airport). I will travel directly from Entebbe to Gulu with a hired driver, and will keep my mask on at all times inside the car. In Gulu, I am staying in my own building within a compound. The compound has its own restaurant, so I will be able to eat my meals in my room. In the case that I need to quarantine, I can safely do so there. I will travel to and from meetings with a hired driver, and will wear a mask. I will conduct meetings outside whenever possible (it is the rainy season), and maintain social distancing.

In reality, most people with whom I interact will not be masked, and will not maintain social distancing. I am not responsible for their choices, but I am responsible for my own. I believe that the preventive measures I take will prevent others from possibly contracting the virus.

Although I am fully vaccinated and will adopt best COVID-safe practices, only 0.6% of the population of Uganda has been fully vaccinated, and around 5.8% of the adult population are HIV+. Furthermore, hospitals are notoriously underfunded, and have low technical efficiency. This means that Ugandans are at high risk for severe COVID cases, and negative outcomes given hospitalization. This begs the question: As a fully vaccinated person, can I still contract and, more importantly, spread the virus? Recent studies have shown that vaccinated people who contract the virus are less infectious because they have less virus in their systems. Further supporting the conclusion that vaccinated people are extremely unlikely to spread the virus is the finding that fully immunized participants were 25 times less likely to test positive for COVID-19 than were those who were unvaccinated. Although there is a small chance that I may contract the virus, there is an even smaller chance that I will spread it.

Even if I am unlikely to contract or spread COVID, I may get sick from another illness and take up space and resources at a health clinic that would otherwise go to a Ugandan. This is an issue that is present in non-COVID times, but is especially salient during the pandemic. In order to prevent severe illness, I have gotten vaccinated against yellow fever (a requirement to enter the country) and typhoid, and will take malaria pills for the duration of my stay. In order to treat a possible infection without the need for a doctor’s visit, I am bringing antibiotics. These measures, in addition to my COVID-safe practices, should protect me from contracting an illness that necessitates a visit to the hospital.

I believe, along with AP’s Uganda partners, that the benefits of travel outweigh the costs. I look forward to your comments!

It’s Time to Come to Terms with What America has Always Been.

January 8, 2021 6:47 pm 1 Comment

It’s hard to know how to start a blog discussing the events of yesterday. I have sat in front of a screen for 30 minutes, writing, and then deleting sentences over and over, failing to find the most important emotion to capture.

I am 21 years old and have lived through many important events. When I was one and a half, the attacks of 9/11; at 13, a classroom of first-graders were killed in a school shooting; at 17 Donald Trump was elected; at now at 21, the U.S. Capitol was besieged for the first time since 1814.

When you look at all these events together, and the many more that I chose to not mention, you may think that I have experienced a great deal of change in my life. However, while these events certainly left an impact, it is hard for me to say that I felt a major change in the country, or at least not a change for the better.

Anyone who was surprised by the events of yesterday has not been paying close enough attention. I did not grow up in a time of extreme patriotism like my baby boomer parents did. I grew up in a time of fear, where when a horrible event took place, instead of banding together, there was extreme push-back against making the issues better. I hope that yesterday was serious enough that actual change can occur but it has been discouraging to have only seen more and more of this stuff emerge as I have gotten older.

As depressing and disappointing yesterday was, there are still lessons that can be learned. The first and foremost is that there need to be repercussions. Far too often, the perpetrators of these acts get off easy so that the country can feel more harmonious. However, when they are the ones that create the issues in the first place, why do we insist on forgiving them when they have demonstrated they have no interest in keeping the peace.

Second, and I would argue even more important, is that we come to terms with what this country looks like. Perhaps not having grown up during the Cold war, has made me far less motivated to ignore the country’s flaws in favor of pure, blind patriotism, but the events of yesterday did not come as a shock.

I have repeatedly seen people say that the actions of the individuals yesterday were “not American”. While their actions may not reflect what we want America to stand for, to say that it is not American feels as if it is ignoring the reality that this behavior has existed in America for centuries. It may not be what many of us see as the ideal of America, but to me, it reveals what has always existed. Many claim the events of yesterday reveal a change that has come about after Trump, yet I would argue that it only exposes the types of movements that have always been permitted, if hidden in America.

White supremacy and white privilege have never gone away and yesterday was just a more visible example of that. Those who are shocked, are simply failing to see that these are not new issues. If we cannot confront that our country has always allowed for the presence of these ideas, then there is no hope to actually make a difference and move in a positive direction.

This election was my first presidential election. Many of my peers have also voted in their first election and the vast majority of people my age are showing themselves to be conscious and ready to combat the existing problems in the world.

I hope that this new generation will continue to push back against inequalities and racism and permanent changes can be made. We will one day be the decision makers, and I hope that the failures of our childhood will encourage us to never give up. Yesterday can be a learning experience for the country, but only if we come to terms with the reality of the situation. Only then, will I be able to say that I have seen real change in this country.

The Inequalities of Online Learning

November 19, 2020 9:00 pm 3 Comments

Having grown up in a major city and attending public schools, I always knew in the back of my mind that there were certain inequalities in education. Some students had a much longer commute to school and therefore had less time to do homework and others may have had to work a job to support their family. Some students may have struggled in classes but have been unable to afford a tutor or receive help from their parents, causing them to fall further behind their peers. For example, my public school in Chicago occasionally shut down due to the cold, because some students didn’t have the necessary clothing to stay safe on their way to school. At the time, I never thought anything of it and would instead just be happy that we had a day off from school, unaware of the larger issues that this represented.

COVID has brought these inequalities to the forefront. The spread of COVID has left many schools with no choice but to go online in order to protect the lives of teachers, students, and whoever may come into contact with those groups. Online-learning is difficult for most students, but the fortunate ones typically only have to deal with distractions and lack of motivation that make completing work difficult. Millions of students, however, have extenuating circumstances that may make it almost impossible to complete their school work. Learn java full stack course online for the best career opportunity.

When my sister’s public high school first went online in March, she didn’t have formal classes for almost 2 months. A number of things led to this slow process to become virtual. There was a lack of personnel and training that made it so teachers knew how to teach in an online setting. Many students didn’t have internet at home and the libraries that they would typically go to were closed down. It took the entire summer just to provide computers for all the students who didn’t have access to one. For these students, they essentially went months without any schooling at all. Since there was no immediate solution to these issues, even if they only affected a small percentage of the students, the entire system suffered. My sister is fortunate that she has the resources needed to perform to the best of her ability at home, but it still hasn’t been a rosy experience for her.

The educational effects may be seen for years in the future. Current elementary school children may find themselves years behind the level that students are typically at for their age. Young children who rely on school for developmental progress, such as making friends and understanding proper behavior, may be permanently stunted. While standardized tests are being required at fewer and fewer schools, some students may only be able to afford tutoring or the actual test through their school and this may affect their acceptance to college. We may not know the full effects that the lack of in-person schooling will have until long after this pandemic ends.

The problems go beyond just educational issues. For some students, school is a safe space for those who may not have a good home life. Students who are part of the LGBTQ+ community may be only able to be their true selves at school. Victims of domestic abuse may use school as a safe haven. For many children, especially in my city of Chicago, the free breakfast and lunch provided at school may be some of the only nutritional meals that a child has access to. These issues are ones that existed before COVID but weren’t nearly as detrimental since students were able to spend much of their time at school. School previously served as a bandaid to many of these issues, but the sudden and unexpected lack of access to schools demonstrates that this is not nearly sufficient of a solution anymore.

The list of differences between those who have resources and support at home compared to those who don’t could go on and on. Educational inequalities were an issue that should have been addressed even before COVID hit, but now it is becoming virtually impossible to ignore any longer. If any student isn’t able to get a good education due to causes that are beyond their control, then the system has failed. Currently, there isn’t a perfect solution to these issues that have existed but are just now coming to light, but I hope that the current situation influences educational and social policy to make the problems highlighted above a thing of the past regardless of whether there is a pandemic or not.

What’s In A Name?: Kamala Harris and Non-English Names in America

November 18, 2020 1:13 pm 3 Comments

Kamala Harris, the 2020 Vice-President Elect has made history by being the first African Indian American woman to hold the position. What comes at a tumultuous and scary time in our history, and particularly during my lifetime, is a joyous celebration of what our democracy can accomplish when people’s rights are exercised and counted. When Kamala Harris gave her speech announcing the results, I found myself shedding a tear or two. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined seeing an Asian American woman take such an important role in leadership. For generations to come, seeing someone like Kamala who represents their interests and looks like them will profoundly impact their self-worth and empowerment.

Harris has been in positions of leadership throughout her career, and yet, she repeatedly faces mispronunciations of her name despite being honest about the correct pronunciation. Some other elected officials go as far as to mock her name. Georgia Senator David Perdue said at a Trump rally, “Ka-ma-la or Ka-ma-la, Kamala-mala-mala. I don’t know, whatever.” Perdue made a mockery of her name, insulting the pronunciation and butchering it. Individuals with non-English names often face mispronunciations and mocking remarks of their names no matter what their position is.

Kamala and I share similar experiences when it comes to our names. In my life, I have been called so many names. I’m “honey” with my parents. “Nerd” with my friends. “Smart-ass” and “cynic” from my teachers. “Short” from strangers. And by now, I have been called these things more than my own given name. Sometimes, people do not even say something when mentioning me. I would get a head tilt, a motion of a hand, or a look suggesting, “Hey you over there.” I get it. My name can be difficult to deconstruct. There are a lot of letters in a confusing order.

I was always apologetic when it came to mispronunciations of my own name; Like I had caused an inconvenience for other people. I wasted their time by existing with this name. When they take an uncomfortable look at the letters and the syllables, I have moments when I wish my name could have been Michelle or Sarah.

There were moments when I wanted to go by something else. One day, I came home from elementary school crying to my mom about how I want to go by Elizabeth. How I was tired of putting up with intolerant bullies. I was tired of being Malien. My mom goes by an Anglicized nickname from her Vietnamese name. Her name is Hong, but in her professional life, she goes by Rosie. Her name, meaning rose in Vietnamese, was given to her by my grandparents An and Khanh. My dad goes by Kit in his professional life. Kittipon is his real, given name from his Thai parents. Thai surnames are meant to be unique to one family unit. You will never find someone who shares the same name that is not related to you. Thai children are also given nicknames, mainly for assimilation into Western culture. My dad’s nickname is Yo. My uncle’s name is Nittipon, but he goes by Yak. Our family name, Tingpalpong, was given to us after our other family name was changed because of safety. Rebels from our family were in danger after the government revolt, so we changed our name in order to hide.

My parents made the decision to call me by my given name growing up. No nickname. No westernized, watered-down version of my name, even though I desperately wanted something others could pronounce. For a while, I resented the experience and embarrassment and remained apologetic for wasting people’s time.

When I was in high school, I was involved in every part of the school community from the student council to the speech team to being editor in chief of the student newspaper. And yet, no matter how much I put myself out there, teachers, staff, administrators, and some students would repeatedly mispronounce my name. No matter how many times I wrote my name phonetically on my assignments or explicitly corrected them, it did not matter to them. It did not matter the impact I made on the school. What mattered to others was convenience. It was easier to mispronounce my name than to make an effort to correct their words.

Kamala and I are only a few people who have undergone discrimination by having non-English names in the United States. Some decide to make the experience easier for others by anglicizing their names and assimilating to American culture. Despite all the negative past experiences I have had because of others not understanding my name, there is something so special about going by my birth name. I owe it to my ancestors to use this name in the United States. I owe it to those before me who sacrifice their own cultural identity to assimilate. Using a different name would be a disservice to my family, and therefore, mispronouncing my name is disrespecting generations upon generations of hardship and struggle.

Op-ed: What Kamala Harris as vice president means for my daughter

In an October 30th, 2020 interview with People magazine, Harris pointed out that, “The name that your parents give you, whoever you are, meaning whatever your gender or race or background or the language your grandmother speaks, is a very special thing. Many cultures have naming ceremonies. It is a gift that is an incredible, familial gift. The family gives the child a name and so I come at it from that: not about myself, but for everyone … Respect the names that people are given and use those names with respect.”

By going by Malien, I refuse to be called anything but my name. And I refuse to sacrifice my identity to convenience others. Instead of feeling the shame and embarrassment, I felt for so long, I take up space unapologetically. So if you have a friend or coworker or classmate with a non-English name, respect them and their name. We need people to say our names correctly. It’s not an excuse to say it wrong. There is something so profound about seeing yourself represented in the media, in politics, and in spaces that underrepresent us. Kamala is paving the way.

“My mother had a saying, ‘Kamala, you may be the first to do many things, but make sure you’re not the last.”

-Kamala Harris

She Persists

October 12, 2020 12:23 pm 1 Comment

I recently finished work on a project with the Cameron Art Museum in Wilmington, NC to commemorate the 100^th anniversary of the 19^th amendment to the US Constitution. This amendment gave women the right to vote after a decades long campaign by many strong, determined women who saw an inequity and took steps, often at great personal cost, to correct it. This push for voter equality began with the Seneca Falls Convention in 1848, the first women’s rights convention in the United States. It took 72 years from that date for women to gain the ballot. Many (probably most) of the women initiating the actions which led to this all- important right, never lived to cast a vote but they understood the importance of what they were trying to accomplish and persevered in the face of violence and invective. Some lost their families as a result of their actions, many lost jobs, many were imprisoned or beaten. And yet, they never gave up. They continued to enlist more women to the cause until their movement became an irresistible force.

I think of these suffragists every time I cast my ballot and I have never missed voting in any election, whether national, state, or local since I became eligible. In the United States, voting is one of the rights of citizens but it is also a responsibility. I also consider it a responsibility to these amazing women who simply would not give up.

During my time with the Advocacy Project, I have come to recognize this same determination and persistence in the women we work with. I see the women in Nepal who lost loved ones to the disappearances. Even as the years have passed, they have continued their campaign to attain justice for those lost and restitution for those remaining. I see the women in Mali who have survived gender-based violence, trying to recover from their personal trauma but also telling their stories so they may help protect other women and girls from suffering the same fate. I see women in Zimbabwe working to prevent their young sisters or daughters from becoming child brides and showing them that with ingenuity and hard work, they can create an income producing business so they can help their families without having to be married off.

I am no longer surprised by these stories of sacrifice and determination because I encounter them wherever I go. Instead, I stand in awe of women everywhere – women who never give up, women who work together for the greater good, women who survive even when circumstances are against them. They persevere, they persist, they find a way. We should all be grateful for this quality in women and recognize that it makes the world better.

As I cast my vote in this presidential election, I’ll be thinking of the women who made my vote possible and take pleasure and pride in the knowledge that it will, in all likelihood, be the women’s vote that determines the outcome.

Thank you: Susan B. Anthony, Ida B. Wells, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Mathilda Franziska Anneke, Alice Stone Blackwell, Antoinette Brown Blackwell, Harriet Stanon Blach, Amelia Bloomer, Carrie Chapman Catt, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Julia Ward Howe, Lucretia Coffin Mott, Anna Howard Shaw, Lucy Stone, Sojourner Truth, Alice Pal, Frances E.W. Harper, Mary Church Terrell, and all the countless other suffragists who worked tirelessly to secure the vote for American women.

The Nineteenth Amendment Banner at the Cameron Art Museum, Wilmington, NC

Podcast – Remembering the Disappeared in Argentina

August 31, 2020 2:59 pm Leave a Comment

Washington DC, August 31: From Horror to Recovery: On the occasion of the International Day of the Disappeared (August 31), I discuss the lessons from Argentina with Ariel Dulitzky, whose family lost two members to the disappearances. Ariel teaches law at the University of Texas and was the first Argentinian to serve on the UN Working Group on Enforced and Involuntary Disappearances.

A Huge Part of My Identity is…

August 26, 2020 12:44 pm Leave a Comment

A huge part of my identity is that I am a proud immigrant.

To start, I have resided in a rural town in Pennsylvania for fifteen years now, but I was initially born and raised in the country of Uzbekistan. As I mentioned in my previous blog, I made the move to the United States with my family at the age of seven. To give you a little bit of background on the country. Uzbekistan is known for being part of the infamous silk road and was home to the world’s greatest Persian scholars such as Avicenna, Al-Biruni, and Muhammad al-Bukhari. Later, Uzbekistan becomes part of the Soviet Union until its independence in September 1991.

(Photo Credit: Map Hill)

(Photo of Tashkent. Credit: The Travel Magazine)

Despite only living in Uzbekistan during the early parts of my childhood years, I still recall a lot about life there. I recall how even early on, I grew up speaking not only the national language, which is Uzbek, but also Russian. I recall living in the metropolitan city of Tashkent and having my weekends split between huge weddings, birthdays, and other family-based celebrations. Perhaps it was due to the urban environment that I lived in but compared to where I live now in the states, I can seldom recall a time in Uzbekistan when my life was dull or boring.

Young Ezoza in Uzbekistan

After our move to the states, one of the biggest challenges that we faced was adjusting or assimilating to the calm and monocultural region that was rural Pennsylvania. The first thing I had to do was get used to seeing deer and other woodland creatures that I had never seen before! In all seriousness, when came to the US, we had no knowledge of the language or people and had to start from scratch. My school’s demographic was predominately white which was fine for the most part but I found myself always feeling like an outsider. There were instances where I faced the typical “go back to where you came from” remark as well as other ignorant comments but I used that prove them that I belonged here and graduated high school in the top 10 percentile with various awards. My experience living in a different country has shaped everything about me, from the languages that I know to the way I view the world. I have learned to be the hardest worker in the room and to never take anything for granted.

Let’s Get Comfortable With Being Uncomfortable

August 6, 2020 3:47 pm 2 Comments

Talking about race and racism can be an uncomfortable topic, but that is the reason it needs to be discussed more. The fact that it makes people uncomfortable in the first place is a major problem in the US and highlights the systemic racism that is glaringly evident in this country. Being of a different background or having a different skin color is not something to be ashamed of, yet it is treated as such when people tiptoe around the topic. Instead, it is much more beneficial to the progression of our society to have conversations about it and speak up when you notice someone saying something offensive or being treated differently because of their race.

White Privilege: It Exists

The sad reality of it is that I was born with this privilege; the option to ignore what is happening because it doesn’t affect me personally right? But it does affect me. It affects the people I love, the people I go to school with, the people who are also citizens of this country and around the world. And I was also born with the privilege to speak and be heard in society because of the color of my skin. The fact that many are denied this basic right based for that same reason is sickening and it would be negligent to not use these inherent advantages to make a change so that everyone is afforded the same privileges.

Something that continues to baffle me is aggression towards the idea that white privilege exists. A family member told me that white privilege cannot be real because he had gone through hardships in his lifetime. That mindset is what is hindering this movement and diminishing the voices of the Black community. This is not said to diminish the hardships felt by all, but there is a difference between hardship and oppression. Our country was built on the backs of slaves; white people have prospered off of Black oppression. For that reason, white people are privileged. We have inherent advantages over BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color) because of the racial inequality and injustice that is ingrained in society.

The Evidence is Clear

Many examples of this have been flooding social media lately, particularly exposing the injustices faced by the Black community regarding the social justice system and police brutality. Even more than just that, however, BIPOC are constantly not acknowledged by society, whether that be professionally or medically.

Even hospitals often do not listen to their Black patients, often deeming their complaints as an overreaction when in fact, their condition is life threatening.

I recently heard the story of a person I went to high school with who is a Black and Latino person. He went to the hospital with a severe knee injury and despite being in excruciating pain, he was told by his doctor that he was making it up. It turned out that he had torn a tendon and needed surgery, after which that same doctor told him he was surprised that he could even walk. This is only one of many examples of when the Black community is maltreated in the medical world.

I recently read an article about a Black medical student who, in noticing how they were only taught how to see symptoms of a disease on light skin in school, created a handbook to help diagnose patients with darker skin (Read more here). This is a major flaw in the medical field that I had not even thought of before reading this. That in itself is white privilege, brining to light one of the many struggles that BIPOC are always facing that white people simply cannot relate to.

Stepping out and Making a Change

I am not a perfect ally. I am certain I have made mistakes and I will probably continue to make mistakes. But I acknowledge our reality and am committed to making a conscious effort to do and be better. I encourage you to do the same.

Speak up and make the change we need to see happen. Call your City Council–your local and state legislators.Vote. Do not simply be a bystander when you see a BIPOC being verbally or physically attacked. Call people out on their casual racism and bring light to why what they said was offensive. Have those uncomfortable conversations. Make them comfortable. Do something.

It is not our fault that society is the way it is, but it will be our fault if it continues. The need for change cannot be ignored. It is our responsibility to take what we know and work to ensure true equality, no matter one’s skin color.

If I have learned anything throughout the Black Lives Matter Movement, it is that it is much better to speak up, be wrong, and grow from that mistake than to not say anything at all. It is uncomfortable, but no progress has ever been made when confined by the familiar and the comfortable.

So Much More than a Blanket!

August 5, 2020 3:45 pm 2 Comments

So Much More Than a Blanket!

The most recent blog from Brigid, a current AP intern, about quilting has encouraged me to write another blog of my own on this subject so dear to my heart.

Quilting is so much more than making a cover to keep someone warm. When a person takes up needle and thread and fabric with the goal of making a quilt, so many things happen. Quilts can memorialize – a person, a place, an event. They can represent something happy, or sad or momentous. Quilts can tell a story – of love or loss, of new life and old memories. Quilts can allow the maker to create ideas that words may not allow. Over the centuries, quilting has been a way for women, in particular, to make their voices heard even when they were denied a voice. They can make the world stop ignoring a growing health crisis. They have been given to people suffering from horrific losses in natural disasters, giving them hope. Quilts have been given to wounded warriors as a thank you for their sacrifice and a recognition that they have not been forgotten. They are provided to families of newborns in the neo-natal units of local hospitals and have been given to children who have been taken into foster care. They have been provided as a way to brighten the lives of those living in homeless shelters.

Quilts have raised money for good causes, whether holding an auction to support survivors of gender based violence, or raffling a quilt in order to buy books for a school in Africa.

Quilts are also wonderful teaching tools. When I share my quilts with students, I always talk about perseverance (it can take a long time to make a quilt) and kindness and generosity. They’re always amazed when I tell them I don’t sell my quilts but I do give them away. I talk about problem-solving and cooperation. I even talk about history and mathematics and the Pythagorean Theorem!

Quilts have a way of bringing people together. Of comforting. And even of helping to heal some very deep wounds. There is a therapeutic effect for the maker in crafting a simple design and sharing the story with others.

I have assembled quilts for the Advocacy Project for eight years, and have had the pleasure and honor of working directly with our partners in Nepal and Kenya to create quilts reflecting their lives and struggles. I just wish I could fully convey what these projects have meant to me and to the women who have come together to raise their needles and their voices. The power of quilts lies in the stories they tell and the people behind them. I hope everyone is listening to them!

Family members who lost loved ones in the disappearances in Nepal, came together to create this memorial quilt which will help them as they lobby the government for justice.

Salaiton Lenguris and Joyce Leriro are two of the artists who created beadwork for the Kenya Cow Quilt. This project brought together women from two tribes to work collaboratively to create the motifs and self-portraits on this quilt.

Ode to Quilting

July 30, 2020 7:02 pm 4 Comments

A Gift Recognized

A specific childhood memory of mine is my grandma and grandpa saying, “Brigid, you really have a gift.” They had just bought me a huge notebook filled with large, blank sheets of paper (which, for me, garnered feelings equivalent to running in a wide-open field or trotting through freshly fallen snow). My grandparents never let me forget how much I loved drawing and painting, two skills which they’ve helped cultivate by constantly purchasing me art supplies and gracefully complementing my most recent works.

Possibly the earliest piece of evidence capturing my love of art.

Perhaps in an attempt to remain humble, I have always let the idea that I was in any way “gifted” with artistic skill go in one ear and out the other. Still, this has never stopped me from adoring an empty canvas, new watercolor set, or the smell of freshly sharpened pencils.

Hidden Talents

My father is often my partner in crime during my art sessions. I swear one of his many life dreams is to move to a distant city and travel with a collapsible easel by his side. Anytime I laid out my watercolors or pens he would be working along, right there next to me.

Due to my perceptive nature and tendency to over-analyze things, I always sensed he was unsatisfied with his work. My dad often claimed his drawings were too squished and mine were somehow “better.” This is all to say I always felt as if I was serving as a channel for him to finally accomplish his dream of becoming a successful artist.

More recently, however, my dad has found a passion for poetry. His skills are unrivaled by anyone I’ve ever seen that wasn’t old, dead, or required to be read for high school English class. More importantly, he now recognizes poetry as his avenue for art…

You see, my dad understands that he is an artist… just not in the way he originally planned.

AP: A Channel for Expression

One example of the many quilt squares made by partners of AP. This square is from the Fourth Middle Eastern Refugee Quilt, produced in Jordan. Each flower in the image reflects a challenge overcome by the artist.

Being involved with the Advocacy Project over the last two months has introduced me to two other forms of art: embroidery and quilting. I assisted with the Sister Artists auction in June and have become acquainted with various quilt projects (in hopes to jump-start the creation of a quilt catalogue for AP).

One captivating thing about these quilts is how varied they are. Some are from Latin America in Belize and Peru, others from Africa in Mali and Kenya… Some are stitched, others painted… Some are about animals, others about sexual assault…

But what is truly captivating is how they display the ability for humans to tell their stories through art.

Ecasa Mwenembele from the Democratic Republic of the Congo poses with her quilt square (shown right).

This more somber image by Ecasa Mwenembele warns other Congolese women: collect water and firewood and tend to the fields in groups.

What Would Life Be Without Art?

Before arriving at AP I was greatly unfamiliar with quilting and embroidery. Yet, amidst my exploration for an internship this past spring, I discovered and was drawn to the AP website’s “Quilts” tab. Using art to not only share stories but allow others to work through difficult emotions was something my inward “gift” of art deeply connected with.

Art can be a product of trauma. I may ignorantly say I’ve never been affected by any extremely traumatic events, but I do know that art has always been, and will continue to be, a large part of my life (whether it be in the form of music, drawing, writing, dancing, theater, or quilting). After all, in a world that is confusing, sad, and lately very unhappy, can’t we all just enjoy the joy and solace that art brings, whatever form it’s in.

And remember… Just as my dad figured out, to be an artist does not mean you have to be “good” at drawing… only open to trying something new!

Challenges in the labor force for Americans with disabilities

4:25 pm 3 Comments

This year the United States celebrates the thirtieth anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act, which strengthens other laws that already existed on the books to prevent discrimination against citizens who live with disabilities – particularly in the area of employment. The ADA was a complement to the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and subsequent acts which made it illegal to discriminate against people based on their race, national origin, or gender. In 1990, the new addition to the law made it illegal to discriminate based on disability. Nevertheless, according to a research brief compiled by the ADA National Network, Americans with disabilities continue to experience workplace discrimination in various forms.

The research brief describes a number of different cases where people with disabilities have been excluded from certain decisions and activities in their workplaces, due to colleagues’ assumptions that these individuals are not capable or competent enough to weigh in on certain decisions or contribute as fully as other peers. Frequently, people with disabilities who are applying for jobs face the dilemma of whether to disclose their disability in their application or to do so later. Either choice frequently comes with its own set of repercussions.

To illustrate, the brief cites one case study where participants sent mock job applications, and “those who disclosed disability (either spinal cord injury or Autism) received 26% fewer expressions of employer interest than applicants that did not include a disability disclosure.” Indeed, the statistics that the US Department of Labor reported in 2019 bear out these findings, indicating the presence of hiring discrimination. While unemployment among Americans without a disability was 3.5 percent, the figure was more than twice as high for those with disabilities, at 7.3 percent. These examples demonstrate that, in spite of protections established by the ADA, corporate America still needs to take more responsibility for educating and training its hiring teams so that they can check their subconscious bias and recognize the value of hiring people with disabilities.

The hiring process is only the first obstacle that a person with a disability must confront in entering the American workforce. Even for those who successfully become employed, keeping that job and not feeling undervalued by colleagues and managers present another set of challenges. The ADA National Network’s research brief cites an additional survey in which employees with disabilities reported experiencing disadvantages at work. One third of these respondents indicated “that they had experienced negative bias in the workplace,” while 47 percent stated “that they would never achieve a leadership role in their company, regardless of their performance or qualifications.” Discouraging experiences such as these will often make individuals who live with a physical or mental condition hesitant to disclose their challenges at all, whether at the time of applying for jobs or after being hired.

Disclosing a disability in the workplace should not place an employee at risk for further stigmatization and discrimination, but too often, the lived experiences of those who have the courage to be open about their condition suggest that openness will be viewed by society as weakness. In the face of such seemingly high potential for negative consequences, then, why should employees with disabilities remain motivated to use their own experiences and knowledge to benefit themselves and others? The research brief, fortunately, also provides a promising statistic: compared to those who did not disclose, individuals who disclosed their disabilities reported feeling “more content (65% versus 27%) and less isolated (8% versus 37%) at work.” Despite all of the repercussions that may follow, I firmly believe, in accordance with this last finding, that openly divulging a disability when applying for employment or at the workplace is the right approach.

The advantages to being up front about a disability ultimately outweigh the disadvantages. For instance, the Americans with Disabilities Act requires that those who have a disability receive reasonable accommodations in the workplace. Moreover, disclosing one’s own experiences opens up opportunities to educate coworkers and, in some cases, clients. During my two years of working with Apple, I once met with a client who found out that I was visually impaired and immediately questioned my ability to perform my job adequately. I explained to him that a physical limitation does not translate to incompetence or interfere with the abilities to analyze, judge, and communicate effectively. After he saw the final results of the tasks that I delivered to him, he apologized and acknowledged that interacting or working with someone with a disability was not something he fully understood. My client’s learning experience is the very reason why I believe that employers should hire more people who live with disabilities because these individuals will serve as additional assets when it comes to inspiring and educating members of society.

My Ability is What Defines Me

July 24, 2020 5:29 pm 3 Comments

Tak! Tung! Boom, boom! I hear gunshots around me. My crying mother runs to pick me up. We run to a protected shelter nearby.

I was 7 years old, and this was 1997, at the height of the civil war in Uganda. I was scared. The one place that was supposed to be safe, our home, was not safe anymore.

Since then my life has changed completely. I was one among thousands of night commuters whose parents sacrificed for us to stay. We children had to sleep in protected shelters and under verandahs of shops in town for safety. The only thing that distracted me from these nightmares was playing football with my friends. It made me laugh and forget the terrible incidents I experienced.

Due to the war, many people became victims of landmines and injuries, as well as diseases like polio, which increased the number of disabled people in the region.

Children with disabilities are labeled, stigmatized and discriminated by their non-disabled peers. They are seen as useless and no-one wants to play with them. Even in their homes, they are not given the opportunity to be useful in their own way. They are often hidden from the community.

I remember two disabled children in our neighborhood: Sam, a landmine victim, and Saidi, who had Polio. Both were bullied and excluded by fellow peers. Knowing how passionate and interactive they are, I developed empathy because I could observe how they lost self-esteem. Later they even dropped out of school. I felt bad and encouraged my peers to include them in games, activities and even our football team. This greatly changed the mindset of non-disabled children, and it changed the attitudes of the disabled children towards themselves.

At a certain point in my life, I experienced what it was like to be labeled and body shamed. For the first time, I could relate to what being disabled feels like. That was the day I was not allowed to play in the Gulu kids’ football team as I didn’t have the required build. Being a passionate football player, I was hurt, and for a short period, I lost my confidence. It was the first time that my physical appearance became my disability.

In the end it strengthened my interest to do something to overcome this attitude. With a good amount of anger, I decided to stand up for those who remain outsiders, facing stigma and discrimination because of their disability. Therefore, I pursued my studies in special needs education and I combined that with my passion for sports. Thus I later became an adaptive sports trainer of trainers.

In order to understand the beauty of inclusive sports, I had to learn to play wheelchair basketball.

Being a “walker,” I felt disabled trying to wheel and balance, and at the same time learning how to handle the ball. While playing, I needed a lot of practice to enjoy the speed, the turnings, and the falls. The beauty of this game is when you race past your opponent and show your skills of maneuvering the wheelchair in a professional manner. While playing, I am always amazed by how my disabled teammates have the skills to fall, get back into their wheelchairs, and play as if they had never done anything differently.

Later, I became interested in deaf people playing football, basketball, and athletics. One might wonder: “Could they hear the referee’s whistle?” The deaf can play all these games without any limitations. The referee uses two flags: green to continue or start, and red to stop or foul. In deaf football, sign language is the common language used by players and coaches, and I had to learn sign language in order to include myself in the deaf team.

In terms of sports for the blind, one of the many games available is “Showdown.” It is a bit like table tennis. Both players are blindfolded and they have to listen to a ball with a bell inside. It is fast and requires some training, but it can be played by both the blind and the sighted.

I want to see a society in which disability does not define our ability. With Ability Sports Africa I will foster reverse inclusion through team sports and individual adventures. I want to see togetherness in our community, through which our differences of disability won’t matter anymore.

My Father’s Dream

July 21, 2020 1:50 pm 3 Comments

Over the past few months of the pandemic, I have reflected on the years of my own personal pandemic caused by enforced disappearances. Looking back, the journey has been long and hard. It is like a horror movie.

Nineteen years ago on December 31, 2001 my beloved father Tej Bahadur Bhandari, 56, disappeared after being arrested by security forces from the streets of Besisahar and taken to the district headquarter of Lamjung, He was handcuffed, blindfolded, heavily tortured and pushed to the ground. My father was a dreamer, educator, and cultural activist, well known in local communities. He was a school teacher for more than three decades and worked to transform local communities through schools, arts and culture.

A dreamer and his son: Tej Bahadur Bhandari (right), a respected former teacher and campaigner for social justice, disappeared in Nepal on December 31, 2001. His son Ram has never stopped demanding an explanation.

My father’s dream was kidnapped with him by state-sponsored security forces. He has never been seen again, but his dream is still alive with me.

What happens when a family member is lost not to death or relocation, but to an enforced disappearance? How do the people left behind cope with that loss and move on?

These questions have been part of my personal life for years. From 1996 to 2006 Nepal was ravaged by a civil war between Maoist rebellion and State forces. The country suffered a great deal of material and infrastructural damage. But more importantly, the citizens of Nepal have been left with a great psychological burden brought about by ten years of nearly constant conflict.

Some victims were thought to be sympathizers of the Maoists as they moved through small villages. Others were viewed as State supporters. Whatever the reason, these people disappeared and to this day no information has been revealed regarding their whereabouts or what happened to them. The actual number of victims is several times higher than the published figure when one considers parents, spouses, friends and young children that will never know a parent.

Often it was men that were taken, robbing a family of its breadwinner and source of income. The disappearances also robbed the surviving family members of the opportunity to conduct appropriate burial rights and rituals that are culturally important to Hindu families.

As of today, there has been no comprehensive account of these events. It is very important to tell the stories of the disappeared citizens and celebrate their memory. But the story of how their families have changed and adapted since the loss must also be told.

I became involved in the search for my father after he was forcibly disappeared on December 31, 2001. I still recall the clothing that he wore that fatal day. It was a light grey shirt, half sweater, and black pants. He also carried a golden color watch. Each detail gives me a small visual memory of a father whose fate still remains unknown.

A forcible disappearance acts as a double form of torture and suffering because victims are kept ignorant of their own fate, while family members are deprived of knowing the whereabouts of their loved ones. In Nepal many families went through habeas corpus cases, but the court dismissed them for lack of evidence or because presiding judges remain loyal to the offending regime. We do not yet have full accountability. The government’s attempt to forget, and to provide amnesty to the perpetrators, has created new conflicts and tensions in communities.

I personally went through all the entire process and have achieved nothing in my search for the truth about my father. Gradually, I became engaged in the victim rights movement and have spent the last two decades working for the families of the disappeared. It’s a very personal cause for me and I never imagined how hard the fight would be. But the world has not done enough to acknowledge the suffering of the families, or listen to them. We have to tell our stories to the world, reorganize, and prepare for a long battle to keep the voices of the families alive.

I remember and commemorate all of relatives of the disappeared who have fought for social justice, access to education, equality and expansion of democratic spaces—like my father. The state authorities can never compensate for the absence of our disappeared relatives. But they can listen our voices, address our needs and stop the cycle of violence and re-victimization of survivors.

As I continue on my journey I am optimistic that we will some day find answers and justice. I dream of a world without disappearances.

“What happens when a family member is lost to an enforced disappearance? How do the people left behind cope with that loss and move on?”

Mask of Empowerment

July 17, 2020 1:39 pm 3 Comments

Washington, DC, July 17: President Trump’s mockery of face-masks will go down as one of his more spectacular missteps. It’s not just that masks save lives. It’s that the act of making these unassuming attachments has lifted the spirits of women around the world and given them a sense of purpose during a period of anxiety and isolation.

The Advocacy Project has witnessed this at first hand while supporting several small mask-making projects in the Global South and working with quilters in the US who have assembled advocacy quilts with us through the years. Many of our quilting friends have now turned to making masks. It has clearly been quite a ride.

The New River Valley Mask Makers have produced over 12,000 masks for under-served communities in Virginia.

We know quilters to be formidably focused, but several say that they were initially paralyzed by the speed of the COVID-19 lock-down. “I was frozen and could not sew or create,” recalls Paula Golden, who has been named Teacher of the Year by the Professional Quilter Magazine.

Paula quickly recovered and joined the New River Valley Mask Makers in southwest Virginia, a rapidly-growing group of over 600 mask-makers that has made over 12,000 masks, including 2,000 surgical masks for EMTs and clinics in rural areas. “Making masks gives me a purpose and a structure to my day,” writes Paula. “Once my mask-making quota for the week is met I can garden and quilt with a clear conscience.”

Grace McGuire, Maryland, into Tigers.

Hope Barton, who recently contributed an art quilt for the Sister Artists auction, also remembers the initial feeling of drift when the crisis struck. “I couldn’t seem to focus. I just wandered the house, didn’t seem to know what to do with myself. And then I got requests from my family to make masks. Suddenly I could DO something that would actually help. Maybe I couldn’t hold my newborn grandson in Denver, but I could protect his parents by mailing them masks.”

Bobbi Fitzsimmons, an AP Board member who has taught quilting in Nepal and Kenya, was still recovering from the loss of her husband when the pandemic struck in March, deepening her sense of isolation. So Bobbi turned to her trusted sewing machine and began making masks for the nursing home which had cared for her husband. It has helped her to deal with the loneliness: “Sometimes it is so quiet that I don’t remember to turn on the radio. Back there in the sewing room, the machine is humming, I watch my masks stack up.” (Check out Bobbi’s AP blog about making masks).

Haby Konate, Mali.

Quilter Alycia Chu in San Francisco has made over 400 masks with a Pickleball design to encourage senior citizens to play the game and exercise. Over 500 Pickleball players have signed up for Alycia’s email and she is now receiving commissions. She hopes that her masks will becomes a symbol of “unity and love for the game.”

Masks have also energized the youngest member of our AP team, Grace McGuire, 17, a senior at the Walt Whitman School in Bethesda. PBS interviewed Grace making masks in April and she has since gone on a creative romp – making over 300 masks and raising $200 for the inspiring mask-maker Mama Cave in Uganda. Grace is now making masks to promote Tiger bags made by wives of the disappeared in Nepal. “I like to know I’m helping,” she says simply.

All of these mask-makers will confirm that stitching and sewing can be profoundly therapeutic. This will come as no surprise to the aid workers who organized knitting for traumatized women and girls in Bosnia 25 years ago this month, following the massacre of their menfolk at Srebrenica.

Nor will it seem strange to quilters who love the sense of companionship that comes from quilting in a group. The pandemic may make it impossible for mask-makers to meet in person, but Bobbi enjoys the weekly Zoom meetings with others from her group in North Carolina known as Mission Possible: Mask Wearing is Caring.

Mama Cave, Gulu, Uganda.

And this is just in the United States. Mask-makers are now a global movement. Bobbi’s group is a member of the Open Source Medical Supplies, a network of 73,500 members in 55 counties who have produced an astounding 14.5 million masks.

In Zimbabwe, Constance Mugari has made hundreds of masks and delivered them along with food and soap to vulnerable families in Harare. In Mali, Abi Konate has made masks for local medical centers. In Uganda, Mama Cave and her team have produced 600 masks for persons with disability and in so doing laid the foundation for a small business. In western Nepal, Sarita Thapa donated her 200 masks to clinics.

All of which leads to a deeply paradoxical conclusion: for all the evil it has wrought, the COVID-19 pandemic is creating social capital, empowering women, building networks, and showing yet again the formidable power of women’s civil society.

Bobbi Fitzsimmons, North Carolina.

History will honor these mask-makers for acting decisively while governments dithered. Yet while most politicians have now come to their senses, it still angers Bobbi that so many lives have been lost and the virus is again coursing through America’s veins.

Other mask-makers are dreading the prospect of a second wave in the Fall. Hope Barton is preparing to make masks for children when schools re-open. Bobbi is wondering how masks can even be worn by children in a school environment that is already a “petri dish for germs.” Some mask-makers are simply burned out.

But none of this will slow the tide. Writes Paula Golden: “I make masks because I care. If we do not take care of each other for the greater good, who are we as a human race?”

“All of which leads to a deeply paradoxical conclusion: for all the evil it has wrought, the COVID-19 pandemic is creating social capital, empowering women, building networks, and showing yet again the formidable power of women’s civil society.”

The COVID 19 Pandemic – the disproportionate burden on PWDs

July 15, 2020 12:50 pm 4 Comments

Face masks and social distancing at the GDPU: Patrick’s colleagues Emma and Faruk observe safety pecautions.

Globally, nearly 12.2 million people have been affected, by COVID-19, with the death toll exceeding 552,000. As of Wednesday, July 8, 2020 Uganda had reported 977 with no deaths. But it is clear that the impact of the pandemic is worse for persons with disabilities (PWDs), who are the most vulnerable people.

PWDs constitute 12.4% of the population of Uganda. As a result, any intervention and strategy that does not include them will in the long run prevent the elimination of COVID 19. Nursing homes may be held liable for infection because of their daily life challenges owing to their condition.

Lock-down has been undertaken by most countries of the world including Uganda for the right reasons. All over the world, the deadly Coronavirus has affected every section of the community.

But in Uganda it has hit vulnerable members of the community, particularly PWDs. The government has made no effort to design specific standard operating procedures (SOPs) to take care of the special needs of PWDs. As a result, people with disabilities have to adjust to the general SOPs put in place to cater for the general population by the ministry of health.

The challenge to PWDs

Some measures undertaken by the Uganda Government to contain the spread of COVID-19 pandemic are particularly difficult for people with disabilities.

For example, everyone is required to observe social distancing of at least four metres. But this is difficult for persons with visual impairment since they have to depend on support from another person while carrying out their daily duties.

Inaccessible health centres and facilities also make it difficult for PWDs to access the services due to limited ramps. Some of the ramps do not meet the accessibility standards in the Building Control Act. This makes it hard for persons with mobility to access health services, especially during this pandemic with stringent guidelines in place.

The lack of sign language interpreters at health centres make it hard for deaf people to access proper health facilities since they are not able to effectively communicate with the health workers. Under the law, Resident District Commissioners (RDCs) should be called on by phone in case of an emergency. But this also presents an obvious challenge for certain categories of PWDs, such as the deaf.

As a result, these categories may go unattended, worsening the fight against the virus. This situation would be helped if sign language interpreters could accompany them in such circumstances.

Finally, there are no standard operating procedures on how to deal with vulnerable members of the public such as mothers and pregnant women with disabilities in the government’s COVID-19 response document.

Recommendations

My personal recommendation from living with disability is that tackling the fight against COVID 19 on people with disabilities requires a deliberate inclusion approach by all stakeholders. The following principles, which adhere to a human-rights approach to disability, need to be adopted:

Awareness of disability and its implications, provide information regarding disability to health professionals, and COVID 19 task force to ensure there is up-to-date knowledge on prevalence and impact of disability. Also, people with disabilities should be asked to build awareness about COVID 19 as they are much at ease to freely interact with their peers. Encourage awareness-raising by disability service providers and disabled peoples’ organizations.

Participation is another core principle. Build relationships with people with a disability, ensure direct consultation with PWDs to identify their health-related barriers and develop strong linkages between health and disability stakeholders.

Comprehensive accessibility: by removing physical, communication, policy and attitudinal barriers. This may vary between individuals. Not all people who are blind will have been taught Braille. Likewise, not all individuals who are deaf or hard of hearing will have sign language skills or have the capacity to use large print, Braille, pictorial, audio and sign language. This should be based on individual requirements.

Mainstreaming disability into COVID 19 standard operating procedures (SOPs) is one way to ensure that many of the barriers experienced by people with a disability are removed and the right of PWDs to health is achieved.

This I believe will go a long way in reducing the burden of COVID-19 on people with disabilities in a low-resourced country like Uganda.

My Journey Towards Anti-Racism

July 13, 2020 3:29 am 4 Comments

My Story

The first thing I want to make clear is that I am still learning and growing; I aim to continue learning for as long as I live. Learning for me and my family has always been a survival mechanism, ever since our move to America when I was six. Not knowing the language or culture forced us to learn to survive in this country. It was especially challenging to move into a rural and isolated town, where an overwhelming number of the town population was white. Now, I am not going to sit here and deny the fact that my family and I didn’t face racism –even if it mainly came from my classmates. Likewise, I will also admit that as a straight, able-bodied, non-black person of color, I hold a lot of privilege and I have made mistakes in the past. Yet, at my core, I know that I am against all and any forms of racism. Before, I use to believe that if I simply did not participate in racist behavior, I was doing my part in this world. Today, I know that is not nearly enough and that I can do so much more to become an ally for those around me.

Another important thing to know about me is that as an International Affairs and History/Political Science double major, I strive to be informed about politics and news. With that being said, I can recall when the #Black Lives Matter Movement (BLM) occupied news channels in 2013, way before the George Floyd incident. I recall when headlines were filled with updates about the death of Trayvon Martin, then Philando Castile, and so on. In my freshman year of college, I recall dissecting news articles on how the media framed the BLM movement in the past.

Source: Kevin Hagen For New York Daily News

Why Anti-racism?

But today, I am not looking at 2013 news articles about the BLM. Instead, I along with millions of other Americans, are witnessing the recurrences of the past flood back, due to the negligence of society to protect Black lives. Many nations today only exist due to the exploitation of black, indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC), but continue hatred towards its creators. But I am hopeful that things can change. That is why I joined AP—to help those marginalized voices be heard. Additionally, I have realized that being non-racist is not enough and that my inaction benefits no one. That is why I aim to be anti-racist.

The difference between non-racist and anti-racist (yes there is a difference) is that non-racism means to passively denounce racism by not engaging in racist behaviors/slurs while anti-racism means actively opposing racism via addressing, confronting, and eliminating racism/racist behaviors. I think Angela Davis puts it nicely in the following quote:

Source: Pinterest

Ways to Take Action

Again, I want to reiterate that I am on this journey to becoming anti-racist and that I am in no means an expert on this topic. I aim to always keep learning and educating myself and I hope you do too. If you choose to join me on this journey to becoming anti-racist or simply want to learn more, I encourage you to do the following: enroll in this highly informative anti-racism training (enrollment opens July 17th), listen to BIPOC stories, read black stories, support black-owned businesses, engage in conversations about race even if it’s uncomfortable, call out racist behavior, or simply start by doing a google search for the terms such as “microaggressions”, “white supremacy in law enforcement”, “redlining”, “structural inequality in education”, “brown eye blue eye experiment”, “school to prison pipeline”, or “implicit bias”. If you have anything to add to this list, please feel free to comment below!

Some Videos to Watch:

Some Things to Read:

This Google Drive full of black history and activism reads
The Table: Stories from Black Women in Student Affairs by Various Authors
Becoming by Michelle Obama
Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo
The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta

Dear Highschoolers…

July 8, 2020 1:35 pm 3 Comments

Since the murder of George Floyd, the United States and the world have opened up a long overdue conversation on systematic racism and social justice. While these conversations have also been occurring recently in my own Walt Whitman High School community, we already have been grappling with these issues prior to George Floyd’s murder.

In Fall 2019, we had several racist incidents at our school. These resulted in a new initiative called One Whitman–a mandatory class held once a week that is intended to increase tolerance and decrease hate in our school community. Just one month ago, white students at my high school spray-painted a racist slur on school property–the second time this has happened at my school this year. It is extremely frustrating and saddening to me to see how my school, which is labeled as highly progressive, can be so intolerant and systematically racist.

The discourse on issues of systemic racism and police brutality occurring both nationally and within my own community has made me think more critically. The conversations on these issues may often be uncomfortable and painful, especially as those who hold privilege (like myself) are forced to account for our own privilege and understand our role in allowing systemic racism in our communities. But these conversations are necessary and overdue. As a privileged, white 17 year old girl, my role right now generally is to shut up and step back. But for the intent of this blog – here are my three suggestions for what I think my fellow white high school peers should or could be doing.

Listen

Too many of my white peers feel the need to post on Instagram and other mediums to show how “woke” they are with performative activisim. Don’t. We need to drop the mic and get out of the way of BIPOC activists. We should prioritize giving space and access to Black voices who can talk more authentically about racism than is possible for me or most of my peers. As white people, it is our job to use our privilege and platform to amplify the messages of black voices, instead of drawing attention to our own.

Educate

Everyone can continue to educate themselves and learn more about ways systemic racism manifests in our everyday lives. There are many anti-racist books, articles, podcasts, films, etc. A good and important use of your time could be to educate yourself and your parents. Instead of watching Hamilton over and over, watch Ava DuVernay’s film 13. I have Trevor Noah’s Born a Crime at my bedside table. The New York Times has a great reading list. Again, our education should focus on learning from BIPOC activists and educators–not white people.

Act

Black students at my high school have started an Instagram account called @blackatwhitman, which allows black alumni and current students to share their personal experiences with racism at my school. I read and follow these posts daily. Students from my school had a protest in my community of Bethesda, and I supported it by bringing water and snacks. My sister and I put up signs on our street that advocated for justice following the murder of George Floyd. Although these have not always been popular with our neighbors, they created necessary conversations on our street about police brutality.

Like I said, it is important to avoid acting or posting simply to feel better about ourselves or present ourselves as “one of the good white people.” We should prioritize becoming actively anti-racist–even if no one else is watching. (And I recognize the irony in this statement given that I have just written a whole blog of my own thoughts on how to be a more supportive white person.) Hold your friends, family and, most importantly, yourself accountable to educating yourself and being actively anti-racist every single day.

To my fellow white high schoolers, this isn’t about us. Take the time to listen to our fellow BIPOC classmates, educate yourself and your family on our national and local history of systemic racism and act accordingly.

COVID-19 hits Zimbabwe – and how we are responding

July 6, 2020 2:57 pm 4 Comments

Constance, right, and her husband Dickson, with bottles of Clean Girl soap – WAP’s special brand.

Corona Virus pandemic has left Zimbabwe in an extremely difficult situation. As of end March to date, the number of infections and deaths from the pandemic remains low – 617 confirmed cases and 7 deaths- compared to many other nations that have seen higher infection and death rate https://www.worldometers.info/coronavirus/country/zimbabwe/-.

President E. Munangagwa announced a 21-day lockdown which began on 30 March- a message which was hard to bear- but with a frail health infrastructure, the only way Zimbabweans have a chance is through strict preventative measures. It was later extended several times in this period of three months in a bid to contain the spread of the corona virus. The declaration ordered all citizens to stay at home, “except in respect of essential movements related to seeking health services, the purchase of food”, or carrying out responsibilities that are in the critical services sectors.

Other measures include the shutting down of public markets in the informal sector, except those that sell food.

None of this was easy to adapt in Zimbabwe, considering that the country has an economic profile similar to that of many developing countries. The difference is that its informal sector makes up a much higher percentage of the overall economy.

According to a 2018 International Monetary Fund report, Zimbabwe’s informal economy is the largest in Africa, and second only to Bolivia in the world. The sector accounts for at least 60% of all of Zimbabwe’s economic activity. Even those employed in the formal economy augments their income through informal sector activities such as cross-border trading. A very high number of Zimbabweans make a living in this sector, or rely on it for food, clothing, fuel, and cash. Most of these activities still remain on hold.

In addition, Zimbabwe has an added set of problems: its economy is broken. A nationwide lockdown announced without any stimulus financial package to cushion the poor and businesses from the impact of the lockdown inflicted further damage to an already extremely fragile economy.

Everything became hard, only restricted movement visits to supermarkets and pharmacies within a five-kilometer radius of people’s homes was given.

In enforcing restrictions on movement and gatherings, security forces arrested thousands of people with some being brutally handled and tortured.

This situation affected most activities/ efforts carried out by civil society organizations including that of the Women Advocacy Project in serving the marginalized groups. WAP’s girls could not manage to carry on with their weekly educational and soap making meetings. Many people struggled to access food, water, and medical care.

The Women Advocacy Project is playing an effective role in helping stop the spread of the virus in impoverished communities. With financial support given to us by Action for World Solidarity, Rockflower, the Advocacy Project and the Pollination Project, WAP launched an Emergency Project aimed at fighting the spread of corona virus pandemic in poor and slum communities. WAP is donating disinfectant kits that include reusable masks, hand washing soap and the WHO printed information posters with main COVID-19 prevention messages to guide people and families on how to effectively practice preventive measures. The kits are being distributed in local health clinics and poor families directly in Chitungwiza and Epworth townships. This is possibly one of the best ways to support our communities and also create increased awareness for prevention.

In addition, WAP has also distributed small food hampers to 100 families in both Chitungwiza and Epworth.

Finding Purpose in Isolation

11:08 am 2 Comments

“The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make a difference that you have lived and lived well.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

During a time of overwhelming crisis, we sometimes lose our belief that one person can make a difference. But, as we try to make sense of what is happening, try to differentiate what is real from what is purported, try to keep ourselves safe, it helps to think about how we can be part of the solution and then find a way to continue to make ourselves useful.

I have been making fabric masks since mid-March of this year. I started making them for family when I returned from Vietnam where face masks have been part of the culture for a while. I then donated a couple of dozen to the nursing home where my husband received care before his death. In the early days of the pandemic, regular supplies for face masks had dried up and they were desperate. Friends who know I sew, began asking if I would make masks for them, too. Suddenly, I had found a purpose in this time of isolation when other avenues of reaching out were closed. It wasn’t long before someone asked if they could pay for the masks. My response was “no,” but I realized that perhaps they were looking for a way to make a difference too. I suggested paying it forward with a donation to the Advocacy Project. And so they did. The response was beyond what I could have imagined.

The gift of a Protective Face Mask encouraged others to give. The money that was collected was then used to support mask-making projects in a number of AP’s partner countries. Women began making masks for their families, as I had, then for their friends and then for others who were willing to pay for them. Some of our partners started or continued soap-making projects with this AP support, soap being as necessary a commodity as masks. Where income had dried up due to quarantine, there was now a small lifeline to help them buy food and supplies for their families.

Now, we are looking for ways to expand and sustain these projects. The women are excited to continue their work and to use the skills they’ve learned, to welcome new members into their groups, and to consider additional ways of supporting their families. Just recently, there was an email from our partner in Kenya. In speaking of some of the possibilities for this work, she said, “It would be wonderful if you could find the money to support these – the Advocacy Project has already made such a difference to the lives of the ladies who took part.”

Hard times? Yes. Distressing times? Oh, yes! But we can still make a difference. Even in isolation, you can take action that may just reach around the world. Making face masks has improved the well-being of my own community, it has generated funds for others to be able to do the same, and it has renewed my own belief that each person has the potential to make a difference – and that usefulness can make you happy.

Bobbi with more masks ready to go – feeling happy!

My Southern Roots (updated)

8:05 am Leave a Comment

Southern Segregated Culture

It all comes down to education. We need to learn not only the good stuff about our country, but we should learn about–and from–our mistakes, too. The recent nationwide protests have produced many constructive, reasoned conversations on these painful topics and more people seem to be listening. Let’s hope substantial change comes from all of this soul searching. The world that we leave to our children depends on it.

I was born in Warren, Arkansas in 1954, the year of Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka and three years before the desegregation of Little Rock’s Central High School. My hometown of 6500 was about 60% white and 40% black. No Latinos, Asians or any other ethnicities. No Jews and only a handful of Catholics. Most white and black people were church-going Protestants, but there was no mixing of the races in churches or in any other social context.

It was a forestry town where my father was the chief management forester of a large company that employed mostly white people, especially in the good-paying positions. It was a very segregated town. I would occasionally see black people doing domestic or yard work at someone’s house or I’d see them at the courthouse in the middle of town, but not very often in the stores and never in restaurants or the YMCA. And there was a separate entrance for the movie theater where black people could watch the movies from the balcony.

Civil Rights

In my own home during the 1960s, race was rarely discussed. Even when the various civil rights marches happened and when Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated in Memphis in 1968, very little was said since those events occurred in big cities and had virtually no effect on our small-town lives. As far as I know, there was no KKK in my hometown and the few times that its activities were discussed at home, my parents did not approve.

Despite that disapproval and with other big issues such as the Vietnam War, women’s lib, and political and social unrest swirling around, I’m sure my parents felt they had enough to deal with and wanted to keep our lives as “normal” as possible. And people didn’t want to be ostracized by their communities by taking a stand against such injustices since it’s very hard to turn your back on the people who have loved and nurtured you your whole life even if you sense that something is inherently wrong with that social structure. Right or wrong, it was better to keep quiet and hope that things would work out. And thus we became a part of the “Silent Majority.”

School Integration

Despite the success of the Little Rock Nine in their brave quest to integrate the Little Rock Public Schools in 1957, desegregation moved very slowly through the southern states in the subsequent years.

Starting in the late 1960s a few black children were integrated into the white schools, but full integration didn’t happen until January 1970 when desegregation could no longer be legally avoided. Despite the middle-of-the-school-year disruption in our academic progress—different teachers, different textbooks, etc.—the transition was quite peaceful. Of course, there were a few white parents who sent their kids to private schools in Little Rock, but by and large, most people kept their kids in the public school system. Integrating the schools was a big step in the Civil Rights Movement and eventually the “separate but equal” restrictions went away, but life in my hometown still remained largely segregated especially in churches and social organizations.

Broadened Perspectives

Albert Pike statue toppled, June 20, 2020 Photo: Maya Alleruzzo / The Associated Press

After graduating from high school in 1972, I went to a small liberal arts college in Memphis which broadened my outlook on the world somewhat, mostly by meeting and studying with people of other ethnicities and orientations. Most of the students there, however, were from the deep South with a similar upbringing as mine.

Coming to DC for graduate school in the late 1970s though was, by far, the most eye-opening experience. Here were people from across the United States and all over the world, many drawn by jobs on Capitol Hill and other organizations associated with this world seat of power. Also, through my singing work in churches, synagogues, choral groups, and theaters, I met so many interesting and committed people of all races and creeds working and volunteering in a whole array of missions and organizations. What a great place to be during those years!

I eventually married and became the mother of four terrific children, all grown now. Their public school education and upbringing in Silver Spring, MD was quite different from mine, but I believe much healthier because their friendships were less limited by racial and ethnic barriers. (According to this report, four of the top 10 most diverse cities in America are in Montgomery County, MD.) Of course, there were–and still are–challenges, but overall, my children’s individual outlooks are more open to people of other backgrounds. And many of these younger people have enriched my own life.

So I’m very grateful to the current BLM Movement for bringing this information, as well as so many other things, to my attention. I personally think all of those recognitions—names of streets, buildings, monuments, etc.—need to be changed and Confederate statues removed from government and public spaces. Yes, they are a part of our history, but it is a shameful part of our history. Why do we want to honor that shame?

From Here On . . .

My Southern Roots

July 4, 2020 3:10 pm 4 Comments

Looking back on my childhood growing up in south Arkansas during the Civil Rights Movement, has made me realize how complicated and ingrained systemic racism is and how important it is to learn about its roots as we move to a more just society.

Southern Segregated Culture
I was born in Warren, Arkansas in 1954, the year of Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka and three years before the desegregation of Little Rock’s Central High School. My hometown of 6500 was about 60% white and 40% black. No Latinos, Asians or any other ethnicities. No Jewish people and only a handful of Catholics. Most white and black people were church-going Protestants, but there was no mixing of the races in churches or in any other social context. It was a forestry town where my father was the chief management forester of a large company that employed mostly white people, especially in the good-paying positions. It was a very segregated town. I would occasionally see black people doing domestic or yard work at someone’s house or I’d see them at the courthouse in the middle of town, but not very often in the stores and never in restaurants or the YMCA.

There were separate drinking fountains and restrooms for “Colored” in the courthouse and government agencies. There were separate back entrances and waiting rooms in the hospital and doctors’ offices. And there was a separate entrance for the movie theater where black people could watch the movies from the balcony.

Civil Rights
In my own home during the 1960s, race was rarely discussed. Even when the various civil rights marches happened and when Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated in Memphis in 1968, very little was said since those events occurred in big cities and had virtually no effect on our small-town lives. As far as I know, there was no KKK in my hometown and the few times that its activities were discussed at home, my parents did not approve. Despite that disapproval and with other big issues such as the Vietnam War, women’s lib, and political and social unrest swirling around, I’m sure my parents felt they had enough to deal with and wanted to keep our lives as “normal” as possible. And people didn’t want to be ostracized by their communities by taking a stand against such injustices since it’s very hard to turn your back on the people who have loved and nurtured you your whole life even if you sense that something is inherently wrong with that social structure. Right or wrong, it was better to keep quiet and hope that things would work out. And thus we became a part of the “Silent Majority.”

School Integration
Despite the success of the Little Rock Nine in their brave quest to integrate the Little Rock Public Schools in 1957, desegregation moved very slowly through the southern states in the subsequent years.

Broadened Perspectives
After graduating from high school in 1972, I went to a small liberal arts college in Memphis which expanded my outlook on the world somewhat, mostly by meeting and studying with people of other ethnicities and orientations. Most of the students there, however, were from the deep South with a similar upbringing as mine. Coming to DC for graduate school in the late 1970s though was, by far, the most eye-opening experience. Here were people from across the United States and all over the world, many drawn by jobs on Capitol Hill and other organizations associated with this world seat of power. Also, through my singing work in churches, synagogues, choral groups, and theaters, I met so many interesting and committed people of all races and creeds working and volunteering in a whole array of missions and organizations. What a great place to be during those years!

As much as I have learned through the years, I occasionally still have to check myself. For several decades I’ve thought the Confederate flag needed to be banned, but didn’t give much thought to the Confederate names of schools, highways or other places. Sometimes I didn’t even know the names were from that era. I’d never heard of Albert Pike who was from Arkansas and a Confederate general or Jubal Early, another Confederate general. So I’m very grateful to the current BLM Movement for bringing this information, as well as so many other things, to my attention. I personally think all of those recognitions—names of streets, buildings, monuments, etc.—need to be changed and Confederate statues removed from government and public spaces. Yes, they are a part of our history, but it is a shameful part of our history. Why do we want to honor that shame?

Albert Pike statue toppled, June 20, 2020
Photo: Maya Alleruzzo / The Associated Press

From Here On . . .
It all comes down to education. We need to learn not only the good stuff about our country, but we should learn about–and from–our mistakes, too. The recent nationwide protests have produced many constructive, reasoned conversations on these painful topics and more people seem to be listening. Let’s hope substantial change comes from all of this soul searching. The world that we leave to our children depends on it.

From Black Lives Matter to Colombia

June 26, 2020 10:14 pm 3 Comments

Anderson Arboleda

Anderson Arboleda never made it to twenty. Five days before George Floyd’s murder, the nineteen-year-old died in the Puerto Tejada hospital of Colombia’s Cauca Department. The province police who beat Anderson Arboleda to death with batons claim the Afro-Colombian was violating social distancing laws. When, less than a month later, American troops arrived in Bogotá, Colombia, crowds of protestors wrapped through the streets.

Most signs were decorated by anti-racist slogans. Some demonstrators, however, opted to burn handcrafted, cardboard American flags. My stomach dropped upon seeing these images on Instagram. To increse your instagram followers Increditools helps you. Visit us for the best instazood instagram bot which is designed to automate and grow your Instagram account.As the daughter and granddaughter of U.S. veterans, I am a patriot. Yet, I know that patriotism can’t be blind. To live up to our name as a defender of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, we must learn from the past (and present).

A Troubling Legacy

During the Cold War, the School of the Americas (SOA) – operated under the US Department of Defense and now titled the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation (WHINSEC) – trained some of Latin America’s most notorious human rights abusers. Alumni such as Rios Montt and Anastasio Somoza went on to monopolize state force and terror through dictatorship. Yet, Colombia sent more officers to US training schools than any other Latin American country.

Indeed, in 1964, with aid from the US, the Colombian state deployed nearly one thousand soldiers to the small, rural town of Marquetalia. With fighter planes and helicopters, they attempted to stomp out the last of Colombia’s communist threat. The plan backfired; survivors – supposedly radicalized by the attacks – created the Revolutionary Armed Forces against Colombia (FARC).

A Brief and Incomplete History

Of course, the rebels soon came to harm the very people they claimed to protect. Indigenous and Afro-Colombian folk have been marginalized from seemingly every angle. In the 1500s, as Spanish conquest forced Indigenous groups onto mountainsides and into jungles; Africans were being taken from their land for the Atlantic slave trade.

i. 1928

To better understand the marginalization of Afro-Colombians and Indigenous folk, it is important to recount Colombia’s recent history. The 20^th century started out with hope; workers for the US company, United Fruit, mobilized for written contracts, eight-hour days and six-day weeks. In response, however, armed company-security shot bullets into the striking crowd. We don’t know how many died in the “Banana Massacre” of 1928, but the event has been deemed a catalyst for popularizing extremist opposition to the state.

ii. La Violencia

Then, came La Violencia. The civil war raged from 1948 to 1958, during which time more than 200,000 were killed and an estimated one million fled their homes. After the war, some of the displaced peasants, often communist or left leaning, formed independent enclaves. However, due to Cold War fears, the scattered communities were deemed a threat. With US support, the Colombian government attacked.

iii. A Lasting Conflict

This brings us back to Marquetalia and the initiation of Colombia’s most recent civil conflict. Decades of callous destruction by leftist guerillas, rightist paramilitary groups, security forces and drug traffickers ensued – disproportionately harming Indigenous and Afro-Colombian folk.

In 2002, the conflict killed an average of 20 Colombians every day. Today, FARC landmines still litter the Amazon. The victims are largely unarmed civilians from the countryside and civil society leaders.

iv. Fragile Peace

President Juan Manuel Santos, front left, and Rodrigo Londoño, the top rebel commander. [Credit…Fernando Vergara/Associated Press]

The Peace Accords, signed in 2016, brought a brief period of hope. The Colombian President at the time, Juan Manual Santos, won the Nobel peace prize. Excited by the agreement’s promise of land restoration, Indigenous and Afro-Colombian peoples attempted to exercise territorial control over their homelands.

Yet, land rights have yet to be secured. Within one week of the Accords, 100 hectares of forest were cleared in previously FARC occupied areas. Deforestation continues to surge as legal and illegal companies alike race to exploit natural resources in the power void.

Still Vulnerable

Today, Colombia is the deadliest place on earth for environmental activists and the second most dangerous country for human rights defenders (HRD) working on business issues. Most of the murdered have been Afro-Colombian citizens, union leaders, and Indigenous peoples.

According to a report by the Business Human Rights Resource Center (BHRRC), 90% of attacks against HRD in Colombia are linked with demonstrations against hydroelectric power, bio and fossil fuels, mining and agricultural ventures.

Kevin Mestizo (centre of the photo) and Eugenio Tenorio were members of the indigenous guard

Intersectional Environmentalism

In Colombia, it seems impossible to untangle violence from displacement, resource

Members of a delegation of indigenous and rural community leaders from 14 countries in Latin America and Indonesia, the Guardians of the Forest campaign, demonstrate against deforestation in London.

exploitation and racism. One activist argues, “the connection is so profound between humans and nature and land that a violent act against land, or vise versa against woman or man, is a violent act against the other.”

Perhaps the Cauca Department can act as an example. In 1923, the Banana Massacre bloodied the region’s hills. Then, during the civil war, violence disproportionately surged through Cauca. Eventually, the FARC took control, catalyzed by displacement. Today, the Valley of Cauca is nicknamed the “cradle of multinationals” and is also home to some indigenous Nasa citizens, many of whom are formidable and outspoken environmentalists.

What Will it Take to Break the Cycle?

Last year, however, in near cyclical fashion, another massacre bloodied Cauca land; five Nasa citizens were killed. According to the Institute of Development and Peace Studies (INDEPAZ), between January 1 and May 31, 2020; Colombia has witnessed the murders of 115 environmentalists, human rights defenders, Indigenous, peasants and social leaders as well as more than 20 former combatants. According to the Ideas for Peace Foundation (FIP) attacks are accelerating.

Yet, there is an indignance. After a taste of peace, many are refusing war. And local peace projects, marked by reconciliatory justice, intersectional environmentalism and grassroots expertise, show promise for a pathway forward.

“Where are you from?” to “Where is your place?”

June 23, 2020 4:19 pm 7 Comments

A Seemingly Simple Question

“Where are you from?” is one of my least favorite questions in existence. This became evident in August 2018, during my first day of orientation at the College of Saint Benedict. As is typical of orientations, the first few hours were filled with introductions, and I watched as my future classmates rambled off names of nearby Midwest towns and cities in response to the question at hand. Still, replies of “California” and “Texas” triggered several surprised reactions of “ooh’s” and “ahh’s” from the crowd.

For context, my university sits in the middle of rural Minnesota, and in 2019 around 80% of students came from in-state. In addition, the student body is overwhelming white, at 79.7%. I say this not to criticize my university, but to highlight that if you are not white or from Minnesota (or one of its bordering states) you are certainly in the minority.

Therefore, as I arrived on campus as a white, blue-eyed girl with Wisconsin license plates, nothing seemed rare (except, perhaps, my red hair). Yet, my actual answer to the question of “Where are you from?” is quite complicated.

Transnational Movement

At the age of four, my family uprooted from Wisconsin to move to Berlin, Germany, where my parents and siblings stayed for two years. When I was six, we then moved to Dhahran, Saudi Arabia, remaining until we transitioned back to the U.S. However, I finished my last two years of high school in El Salvador and Saudi Arabia.

The long-story short is that I have spent half of my life outside of the U.S. I have lived in eight houses within four different countries. I do not say any of this to brag, boast, or claim that I have greater insight into the world, but only emphasize why the question at the top of this page is terribly complicated for me!

I also say this because having had several “homes” makes me question my role in society, as well as my future (questions most people in their 20s are asking, I suppose). Without fully knowing where I come from, I am still trying to figure out what that means for where I am going.

The Power of Human Connection

This is why I am at the Advocacy Project… or should I say partly. Having been surrounded by people of different races, religions, and hometowns from birth makes me passionate about human diversity and the power that arises when we choose to listen to others.

Image: Oryx Translation

So often, we humans prefer to quickly judge each other rather than deeply listen. I often think it must be innate for human beings to do this. That is, label and hold prejudice, as it is easier to process our differences by simply placing each other into small boxes. Can we change the way we do this? I think yes. Does it take time, effort, and a willingness to recognize how complicated human beings truly are? I think yes. And do I think it starts by listening. Yes.

The fact that the question “Where are you from?” tries to place me into a small box that does not describe my whole life story is one example of how the single-story phenomena can be misleading. However, I also hope to recognize that being assumed a “white girl from Wisconsin” (end of story) is certainly not the worst box to be put into. It does not place me into any immediate danger or carry hurtful prejudices along with it.

But me, myself, and I know my full-life story, and I hope to recognize the privilege that comes with it. Not only being white and from a stable family, but also having been exposed to such a vast amount of diversity at a young age. My unique upbringing and flexibility of not “being” from one place, although freeing me from allegiance to one community, also makes me wonder where I am supposed to “be.” Once again, this is why I am at AP. Although I am still trying to find “my place,” I think learning from an organization that puts listening and establishing relationships at its forefront is a good place to start.

World Refugee Day 2020 – Refugees, Resettlement and Racism

June 20, 2020 6:10 pm 2 Comments

The US is accepting refugees from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, which has been referred to as “rape capital of the world.”

Washington DC, June 20: We commemorate World Refugee Day today in the wake of the shocking murder of George Floyd. If this crime taught us anything, it is that racism is about power as well as color. Few people are more dis-empowered than refugees. It is thus deeply troubling that the very concept of asylum is under siege.

When I worked for the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) in 1991, the number of refugees and forcibly displaced persons in the world stood at around 40 million. Last year, according to UNHCR, it rose to 79.5 million. This means that one in every 97 human beings has been deprived of the protection of their government – a truly astonishing figure.

At precisely such a moment, when the global system for managing refugee flows is sagging, the Trump Administration proposes to drive another nail into the coffin by making it virtually impossible for a refugee to secure asylum in the United States.

This is the gist of new regulations that were published earlier this week and will now be open for 30 days of public review. They must be vigorously opposed.

Asylum-seekers In The Crosshairs

Trump’s new rules target two categories of refugee. First, there are those who manage to reach the relative safety of another country and a refugee camp, where they wait – often for years – before being accepted for resettlement by a third country.

In 2016, the last year of the Obama Administration, the US accepted 84,995 refugees for resettlement. This was miniscule when set against the global need, but it was more than the number resettled by all other governments combined. It also sent a strong message to hard-pressed countries of first asylum like Uganda and Jordan that the US was prepared to share their burden.

President Trump wants to slam this door shut. This year, the US plans to resettle just 18,000 refugees, and that was before the COVID-19 lock-down. All refugees from Muslim countries have been excluded from the US since 2018. If Trump is re-elected, future admissions will probably be based on the value of refugees to the US rather than the threat to their security or the preservation of their families.

Punishing Undocumented Families

The second target of the new regulations are people who seek asylum directly in the US and those that have found their way in but remain undocumented.

International law (which the US follows) defines a refugee as having “a well-founded fear of persecution.” It can be difficult to establish motive, particularly if the asylum-seeker arrived without documents. But the law is clear that he or she cannot be sent back (“refouled”) without being given the chance to make their case.

Under Trump’s new regulations, judges would be able to dismiss “frivolous” asylum claims without a hearing. Anyone who has lived in the US for more than a year, or spent more than two weeks in another country without applying for asylum there (for which read Mexico), will not get a hearing.

The regulations would also bar most people who left for “political opinions,” including opposing organized crime. If you were about to get press-ganged into the MS-13 gang in El Salvador, forget about it.

This is all part of a systematic strategy to make the asylum process in the US as intimidating and uninviting as possible. Over 60,000 asylum-seekers have been returned to Mexico until their asylum appeals are heard in the US. Families have been split. Children have been put in cages. The message is clear and blunt: “Don’t even bother.”

This cruel policy weighs particularly heavily on undocumented people in the US, who number about 15 million. Some would undoubtedly qualify as refugees under the law. Others, who were driven by poverty, would certainly not. But under President Trump they will never get the chance to find out. As the pressure grows they will be forced further into the shadows, adding to the stress and fear caused by the COVID-19 pandemic.

Asserting Community Control Over Migration

This assault on refugees and migrants in the US is a classic case of systemic racism. How can it be challenged? Beyond the obvious – working to defeat Trump in the November elections – it seems to me that local communities must assert more control over the entire migration process.

Under the present system, refugee quotas are decided in advance by the Federal government, and the refugees themselves are distributed among states by the US State Department in consultation with state governments and resettlement agencies. Many dedicated people work in this system, but it is top-down and imposed. Communities are where the refugees will live, and communities should have more say in deciding who they take in. The town of Rutland in the state of Vermont did as much when it opted to resettle Syrian refugee families at the height of the Syrian refugee crisis.

We should follow the example of Rutland, study our troubled world, and invite refugees from countries under the greatest stress. Meanwhile, local councils should ease the pressure on our undocumented neighbors by ensuring that rent subsidies, educational opportunities and emergency food support are provided for undocumented families during the current emergency. Many communities have done this, to their enormous credit, and it should continue after the lock-down ends. Employers could help by hiring refugees or undocumented workers when their businesses reopen.

Finally, when meeting a refugee in person, we should all take the time to learn about his or her courageous journey. Believe me, we will be inspired.

In short, forced migration must be rescued from the Trump Administration. Unlike their president, most Americans understand that diversity enriches their society, and that refugees repay their generosity with hard work, friendship and a deep love of their new country. It is time to fight for this core American value.

Rejecting Normal

June 18, 2020 4:40 pm 3 Comments

An Imperfect Ally

I came of age during the Occupy Wall Street movement. At first, many media outlets labeled the protests silly. The Daily Show, for example, spent a whole segment discussing the bathroom logistics of Zuccotti Park. But the New York government must have felt threatened because Mayor Bloomberg deployed hoards of police to “clean up” the area. Police brutality was ongoing as law enforcement utilized batons, mace, fists, rubber bullets and boots to silence the movement. While black protestors were hit especially hard, it was a bloodied, white face that garnered national attention.

Art by Molly Crabapple, created during the Occupy Movement

As an ignorant 16-year-old living in a suburbia some thirty minutes away, I’d never thought about white privilege. At the time, I didn’t know that black skin could be a death sentence. I didn’t know about the prison-industrial complex, that my town was the result of white flight or even that much of my high school faculty was overtly racist. During Occupy Wall Street, I watched my country disregard black pain and I stayed silent.

I am not a perfect ally. In the words of Angelica Alzona, “I-in my whiteness, my relative economic comfort, my blind spots and areas of ignorance – have surely offended and impeded someone else.” Still, it is my responsibility and the responsibility of all allies to continuously strive to do better. It is not enough to march, donate and post. All white folk are beneficiaries of racism. As such, fighting racism necessitates that white people partake in persistent self-reflection and active listening. Allyship is a lifelong process.

Beyond the Protests

In New York City this past week, a cop drove his car into a crowd of protestors. Tear gas spread through the streets, rubber bullets flew and police beatings were caught on camera. Those arrested are being denied masks, food and water. In other words, the NYPD is continuing its reign of terror. Shown by the stories of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, Tony McDade, Atatiana Jefferson and so many others; police violence is not tied to protest or unrest. Rather, it is an unyielding and seemingly timeless epidemic. Moreover, the racism in our penile legal system doesn’t stop at arrest.

A Boy Named Ron

Black men and people of color are not only more likely to be convicted of crimes than their white counterparts, but also are more likely to be strapped with longer and more extreme sentences. For example, controlling for crime, black people are disproportionately charged with felonies. In my college, there was a white boy who grew weed. We’ll call him Ron. Ron was caught and suspended, able to return to university a year later. Ron served no jail time and his record was wiped clean after he completed probation. Had Ron been labeled a felon, as many marijuana growers are, he would’ve lost the right to vote and would have faced employment discrimination. He may also have missed out on years of education due to imprisonment.

ACLU.org

Ron was given the benefit of the doubt. People said he was a good kid, just a little lost. The consensus was that this 19-year-old’s life would amount to something and that derailing Ron’s path would therefore be cruel. Most black children, teens and adults are not given the same respect. They are imprisoned and killed for much less. Explicit and implicit biases cause people to view black folk as threatening. Today, roughly 6 million Americans can’t vote due to felony status. This includes some 33% of the African-American male population.

A Brief and Incomplete Plea for Police Abolition

Photo from Glitter Magazine

Our legal system is unjust. Abolishing the police is the first of many necessary corrective steps. In the past 40 years, the price of policing has tripled, reallocating funds from other necessary public works and community building activities. For example, the police department budget in LA comprises more than 50% of the city’s general fund. In the budget for 2020 alone, the LAPD is slated to receive 260% more than housing has in the last decade. Moreover, the mayor has actually decreased the budget for Housing and Community Investment despite the “homeless crisis” and the fact that a whopping 55% of LA residents are unemployed. While those who work in Housing and Community Investment are on furlough due to covid19’s impact on city revenue, LAPD officers with college degrees will receive an additional $41 million in bonuses.

“My Son is Black” by Lex Marie (@thelexmarie on Instagram)

It is important to note that many police officers do not live in the communities they serve. The goal of police abolition is not anarchy. Rather, it is to divert police funding to multiple community-based “safety, support and prevention” initiatives. Standard police training is just 21 weeks, yet police are demanded to deal with everything from domestic abuse to counter terrorism to hospital runs. This is both dangerous and unsustainable. More targeted and specifically trained agencies are necessary. Moreover, crime rates are lowest in high resource communities. Thus, initiatives that increase access to opportunity, education, housing and food are likely to decrease crime.

The Tired Generation

Right now, we are advocating for swift and dramatic changes to our legal system. However, racism extends beyond these issues. The fight will continue into tomorrow and the day after and so forth for decades if not centuries. In my life, I’ve seen movements rise and fall. When the 2011 protests (Occupy, Greece, the Arab Spring, etc.) ended in, at best, business as usual, hopelessness took control of many. I am part of a bitter generation that has lived through the War on Terror, the War on Drugs, the opioid epidemic, two global recessions, climate change and a pandemic. For us, the end of the world is easier to imagine than the fall of unfettered capitalism.

I’m not sure that I believe Martin Luther King Jr.’s words: “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.” However, I know there is no moral choice, but to try to make this world better. So roll up your sleeves. We’ve got work to do.

Sources:

https://jezebel.com/becoming-ugly-1789622154

https://news.uga.edu/total-us-population-with-felony-convictions/

https://www.sentencingproject.org/publications/6-million-lost-voters-state-level-estimates-felony-disenfranchisement-2016/

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2020/jun/05/defunding-the-police-us-what-does-it-mean

https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2020-06-04/lapd-budget-cuts-garcetti-protests-explainer

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2020/jun/10/new-york-city-protesters-detained-abysmal-conditions#_=_

https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2020-04-17/usc-coronavirus-survey

https://la.curbed.com/2020/6/2/21277088/defund-police-los-angeles-lapd-budget

https://www.nytimes.com/2016/08/19/us/when-police-dont-live-in-the-city-they-serve.html

A Community Teacher Chafes at Distance Learning, Pines for her Students

May 14, 2020 9:53 am Leave a Comment

Before the lockdown: Lisa on a school outing to the Secret Garden, which raises funds for arts education. Top photo: Lisa’s students admire the Maasai Girls Quilt in 2016.

Newport, Rhode Island, May 14: I first met Lisa Olaynack, an English teacher at the Thompson Middle School in Newport in 2016, when she invited me to her class for a discussion about girls’ education in Kenya.

At the time The Advocacy Project was working with the Kakenya Centre for Excellence, a pioneering boarding school for Maasai girls in western Kenya that will only admit a girl if her parents reject genital mutilation. Parents were getting the message and the practice has been declining.

Kakenya’s school – like the Thompson school in Newport – is a wonderful example of how local schools interact with the communities they serve. But several recent conversations with Lisa suggest that this bond may be fraying badly as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic.

I turned to Lisa partly because she and I are neighbors under lockdown and partly because she fits everyone’s idea of a public school teacher – always in motion and always thinking about the welfare of her students. I told her that she reminded me of the Energizer Bunny. “Maybe” she replied, “but this bunny has a heavy heart.”

The last six weeks have left Lisa feeling exhausted, anxious and inadequate. She has three children to care for at home, and a sister and brother-in-law who are battling the virus. But most of all, she is missing her students. After over twenty years of teaching at Newport schools, this is her lowest point yet.

Lisa is one of five teachers at the Thompson School who work with a cluster of 85 students, aged 11-14. She has special responsibility for 22 of them. Like teachers around the world, she is wondering how to grade Distance Learning after six weeks of trial and error.

Some things are going better than expected. In a thoughtful recent interview Colleen Jermain, the Superintendent of Newport schools, estimated that 90% of Newport students are checking in online. This squares with Lisa’s own experience. On average, nineteen of her 22 students are logging in to attend her Google classroom every morning. Lisa also agrees that after the initial “shock and awe” the technology has lost most of its terror.

Distance Learning may even help to bridge the “digital divide” between students from high and low-income families. Before the lockdown, eleven children in Lisa’s cluster of 85 had no access to the Internet at home. After prodding from Gina Raimondo, the governor of Rhode Island, Cox Communications agreed to provide free WIFI to families with a student at home, and to boost the signal until July 15. Schools have also purchased devices that let students link their smart phones to computers.

Distance Learning has forced Lisa to innovate. She records herself reading a story aloud every day, interspersed with her own comments (“think aloud”) and has come to rely heavily on the programs ReadWorks and Kahoot , which her students love. She is currently reading from Count Me In by Varsha Bajaj, a sparkling book about two children who denounce a hate crime on social media. The author will read the last two chapters and chat with Lisa’s class next week. Best of all, Lisa feels a deep sense of camaraderie with the other core teachers in her clusters.

All of this is laying the foundation for a new approach to teaching post-COVID-19. So why the heavy heart? The answer is simple – separation. Students and teachers are in mourning. “They need us and we need them,” she says.

Lisa is also tormented by questions. Her students may check in but do they do the work? How is the crisis affecting single parent and undocumented families? Is Distance Learning adding to the stress? Worst of all, is the bond between her and parents damaged beyond repair?

These questions are particularly urgent because the three public schools in Newport, including Thompson, serve some of Rhode Island’s neediest communities. Newport is better known for mansions than poverty, but according to one respected survey 1,698 (42%) of all children in the city live in single-parent families; 790 (23.3) live below the federal poverty threshold; a quarter need food aid; and fifty-five have a parent in prison. Scores of families are undocumented.

Lisa’s cluster of 85 children at Thompson offers a mirror image of this community. About 20% of her students are high achievers, while about the same number struggle with language, learning disabilities, behavior disorders and emotional challenges.

As well as an academic education, school offers a safety net to these children and their parents. Lisa ticks off the benefits: “Nutrition (breakfast and lunch); structure, values, friendships and the chance to compete on equal terms.” She is excited about the diversity in her class. When I visited, her students came from 14 countries and several Native American tribes. It hasn’t changed much since then. “A bit like a mini United Nations,” she said. “We love them all.”

As with all teachers, this has created a bond between Lisa and her families. “They trust us and they entrust us with their children,” she says. She is happy to accept the responsibility.

COVID-19 has changed this. Single mothers suddenly find themselves out of work and under lockdown with several children. Distance Learning has simply added to the stress, said Elizabeth Fuerte, who heads civic engagement for the Newport Health Equity Zone, an initiative to strengthen neighborhoods. “Imagine that you are living in a single room with four kids.” she said. “What chance do you have to cook, care for the kids and help them with homework?”

The crisis has not only separated teachers from parents, but changed their roles. “I hear from parents it used to be the teacher’s job to teach and the parent’s job to raise,” said Ms Fuerte. “Now parents are doing it all, at a time when they are under so much pressure.”

Language barriers add to the confusion, said Rebekah Gomez, a co-founder of Conexion Latina Newport, a grassroots organization that supports Hispanic families in the city. “The technology is difficult enough to learn if you speak English. We’re asking parents to become teachers in a language they don’t understand.”

At school itself, physical separation has made it impossible for Lisa to monitor the progress of her students – one of her most important tasks. Before the lockdown, Lisa met with her 22 core students twice a day. This allowed her to spot problems and refer them to specialists on the staff.

Distance Learning, in contrast, gives Lisa few opportunities for live interaction with students. She holds two live Google Meets for her 85 cluster students a week and typically draws around 20, but these are opportunities to socialize rather than check up.

Without the face to face connection it is hard to tell how many students are even doing the work, let alone how well they are doing. Lisa posts assignments online at the start of each day but finds that only about half have handed in work by the end of the week. She assumed that it was her fault until she learned that colleagues were coming up with similar numbers.

Lisa does what she can to follow up. She meets regularly to compare notes with the other teachers in her cluster, and refers worries to the Dean and guidance counselors. She herself then follows up with phone calls and messages. Occasionally, she will experience a moment of “pure joy” when a parent breaks silence. But few of her calls or emails are answered.

Looking ahead, the rougher edges of Distance Learning will no doubt get smoothed out. Grading is likely to remain a challenge, but Governor Raimondo has promised that no child will fail. With more at stake, final exams for older and graduating students could be harder.

From her own perspective, Lisa would like to see more social and emotional support for teachers, students and parents during and after the lockdown. This may be difficult, given that funding for schools will likely fall sharply with the recession, as Dr Jermain pointed out in her podcast. One way to improve monitoring would be to collaborate more closely with community partners like Conexion Latina Newport, which work in the communities and know the families.

The absolute priority, says Lisa, must be the emotional needs of students. It is hard to know what impact four months of lockdown will have but Lisa herself worked for several years in juvenile justice and talks with dread about the “school to prison pipeline.” Others warn of PTSD. Teachers will no doubt be on the lookout for the telltale signs – low grades, depression and acts of truancy – once the schools reopen.

And Lisa’s grade for herself and Distance Learning? A pass, but only just.

‘I told Lisa that she reminded me of the Energizer Bunny. “Maybe” she replied, “but this bunny has a heavy heart.”‘

This blog was first published in the Newport (Rhode Island) online newspaper

Firsthand Perspectives on Child Marriage

August 20, 2019 4:14 pm 3 Comments

There is something very powerful and also quite important to be found in hearing firsthand how those at risk feel about the issue they are facing. One of the things I tried to do this summer was to understand how these young women in Harare (WAP’s beneficiaries) feel about child marriage, since their voices, experiences, and ideas are key to any kind of solution.

I worked with WAP to carry out a survey of as many of the club members as possible. We spoke with 62 girls who have been attending their clubs for at least one month, and 19% of them have been at risk of getting married at some point (or are currently at risk).

About a month later, we returned to 3 of the clubs to ask girls to go into more detail about why they think child marriage is bad. The girls were asked: “in your opinion, what is the worst thing about child marriage?” This is a fairly open-ended question, and I hoped to get a better idea of what they – the demographic most at risk of this practice – felt was harmful about child marriage.

Girls in Waterfalls share their thoughts

Hopely club members crowd around the building where they meet to write their responses

Here is a sample of some of the responses:

Lynn: The worst things about child marriage are that it contributes to abuse of one’s human rights. For example if a girl is forced to marry at the age of 15 she is forced to leave school and all her dreams will be shattered. Also child marriage can cause a lot of problems to one’s life such as diseases. If a girl is married to an old man there is a possibility of sexual abuse which causes domestic violence in most cases.

Emilia: Your husband will beat you because you are a child.

Kezia: As girls the worst thing about child marriage is that if you go to labor you can die because your bones are not strong enough and your baby could die. Also, you may not be able to provide for the family or you may not be able to cope with the stress of marriage.

Shamila: If you get married when you are a small child you might die during birth because your bones are not strong.

Tatenda: The worst thing about child marriage is that you can get HIV/AIDs or you cannot be able to hold your family together because you have no idea how to have children.

Shamiso: Child marriage is bad because it destroys our future as both girls and also boys. Especially if we look at most countries, women are not respected even if you are pregnant you are not given your rights, they are abused.

Clearly there are common themes in the responses, but also a range of risks and effects that might not be apparent to those with little knowledge of (or no experience with) child marriage. These girls are considering this issue from a position where they can stare it in the face and see how it might impact their lives. Many of them have friends and relatives who have been married before 18 – and again, some of them were married previously themselves.

I hope that in the future, girls in Zimbabwe can continue learning about child marriage and sharing their thoughts on why it is harmful, dangerous and unwanted. I feel like I am repeating myself but again, I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to meet WAP’s club members this summer and to hear from them about their life experiences and opinions.

I truly feel that if their motivation continues to be harnessed through education, community-building, and skill-building, girls like these will be effective in bringing attention to this issue in their country and put a stop to it.

The End to Amazing and Life-Changing Experience

August 15, 2019 2:40 pm Leave a Comment

As a Fellow or intern at an organization, you know that your time with the organization is limited. It’s like an unseen timer that continues to count your days, your hours, and your minutes until your time is up. It’s astonishing to me that I am finishing up my 10 weeks in Vietnam and will head back home. When I arrived, I was delirious, anxious and nervous about being abroad. I had never been out of the country and after leaving the Dulles airport so many thoughts came into my head about how I would make it. I, like many people, imagine the worst scenarios and my experience, although not without its moments, has been the exact opposite of what I could have imagined. Even with a slow start, I was able to experience something that many people around me may not ever see.

I have been able to work with a group of women who are welcoming and caring. Working with AEPD was like working with a family that wanted to ensure you never went hungry and always felt safe. From the moment I arrived and had to stay with Ms. Hao (The Program Manager), I knew that I would be okay. She and her family made me feel warm even though I was very anxious about everything. Once I was able to work in the office, it was nice to see the day to day activity. The office was full of people once the Taiwanese interns came and it gave us multiple opportunities to eat dinner together and learn about each other’s cultures.

The AEPD staff, The Taiwanese Interns and I for our last dinner together before leaving.

The visits to beneficiary families really opened my eyes to people I would have no way of knowing if not for this opportunity. With each family I tried to make sure I was completely prepared with my emotions pushed to the side because I knew that some heavy topics would be brought up. Naturally, I smile a lot and before leaving I always tried to remember to shake their hand. Many of the families would give me a hug before leaving. I felt saddened by their plights but I could not dwell on them for long because each family brought a smile or laughter to the conversation before we left. And I would always think to myself, “If they are still able to smile then I can smile as well.”

One of my favorite encounters, with the AEPD Outreach worker and Mr. Tran Thi Thao.

Along with meeting these strong families, I have also been able to meet so many people from around the world. Travelers from Sweden, England, Scotland, The Philippines, Germany and more. I think it was most exciting to meet people from the U.S. because I felt like a piece of home was here with me. Getting to know the Taiwanese interns and the Canadian intern also help with my journey in Vietnam. It was great to experience new things with other people who were also foreigners to Vietnam. I am grateful for each and every moment with them and getting to know them.

The city of Dong Hoi is beautiful and the people are so friendly, always saying hello and asking where I am from and how I got here. I have now gotten accustomed to walking everywhere and finding new places to eat by looking at the pictures when there is no English, traveling on the Vietnam train, and going on local tours to learn more about the great places in Vietnam. But out of all the places I have visited in Vietnam, Dong Hoi seems to always be good to me. The beach and park always have an amazing view of the city.

During my time here, I have also been able to watch the construction of AEPD’s social enterprise Talk Cafe and its opening. Contributing to the invitations and marketing products was a great opportunity to be a part of something that will be used long after I am gone. The memories and stories I have from my time here will last a lifetime. I can only hope that I have made the same impression on AEPD and the beneficiary families.

Putting Needle to Cloth

August 14, 2019 5:23 pm 2 Comments

As you may have previously read, one of my projects this summer has been to work with WAP to produce embroidery squares for a child marriage advocacy quilt which will be used to spread awareness about child marriage and girls’ empowerment in Zimbabwe. Twelve of WAP’s beneficiaries were selected to participate in the quilting project and they attended an embroidery training last month to learn stitching skills and begin thinking about the images they would be putting on their quilt squares.

We recently held our second embroidery training at a local Harare cafe in order for the girls to get some extra help on their squares. As we have all learned, there are certain stitches that work better for different subjects (like trees, skirts, houses, etc.) and since the quilters have had a chance to work on their squares and begin producing their images and scenes, they were able to get individualized assistance with their projects. Embroidery on cloths, the new Fall/Winter line of boys coats this year are found to be fashionable, warm and fun to wear. This season of coats for boys include variations colors and style that are usually hard to find for young men and they are also very masculine so as not to be mistaken for girl coats, see here for more choices.

Samples of different embroidery stitches (photo from Pinterest)

Tina Telford – Chairperson of the Harare Patchwork and Quilting Guild – led the training for the second time and worked with all of the girls to teach them new stitches and give them advice on how to proceed with their squares.

The quilters are from all five of WAP’s clubs, so many of them had not met before the embroidery training began. As they all sat around picnic benches in the garden of the café, they began to open up, show each other their quilt squares, share tips about sewing, and laugh with each other.

I was very impressed with how far along the girls have gotten with their embroidery and the powerful and beautiful imagery they are managing to create. I am so excited to see the finished products because I know each one is going to tell a story and reveal a different facet of the issue of child marriage. Some of these young girls have already been through so much in their lives and it is truly inspirational to work with them and hear them talk about how much they have learned and how they have been empowered.

WAP Ambassador Trish’s square features girls playing netball together. She explained the image is representing how girls coming together as a group and forming a community can prevent child marriage.

Trish’s embroidery square work in progress

Chitungwiza cub member Tanatswasa’s square is a scene where a girl is at a house working with a baby and a garden, while there is a school in the foreground of the scene. Tanatswasa explained that since the girl has been married, she has lost the opportunity to attend school.

Once all of the squares are collected and photographed next week, I will be sharing them on AP’s website so you can see all of their hard work and read about the stories behind each piece of embroidery! I will then be transporting the squares back with me to the U.S. where they will be assembled into the final child marriage advocacy quilt.

Resilience

August 13, 2019 2:39 pm Leave a Comment

One of the things I have been very amazed by is the resilience of the Vietnamese people–especially the 11 families that we have supported. Though their plights are heavy and they are filled with constant struggle, they continue to move forward. Learning the history of Dong Hoi, Vietnam has been essential to my knowledge about the families here as well. It has been less than 100 years since the war that struct so many families and yet the community here continues to thrive after much reconstruction. Many speak about how this place was nothing but a crater and it has been able to find its way back to a productive community. The conversations with our families have been humbling. In every encounter, the families are very welcoming and open to the many questions that Ngoc and I ask them. They are happy to show off the cow or buffalo that they were given.

Mothers like Ms. Vo Thi Toa who at the age of 72 years old has to take care of the entire household on her own continues to stretch her resilience by ensuring that both of her sons and grandchildren have food and medication. Ever since her husband died, she has been a single mother and the main carer for not just her family, but also her new cow and calf which are growing well.

Mr. Tran Thi Tha and his wife Mrs.Ngo Gia Hue are another example of family resilience. Their three daughters are the joys of their life and they know that their conditions are permanent. Yet when I visited this family, I saw no sadness but laughter and smiles and a sense of pride for cows that Mr. Tha has raised. Their strength comes from ensuring their children are okay and they can maintain their household.

Mr. Pham That and his wife, who is also a landmine survivor, are increasing in age and things are becoming harder and harder for them. Their son and daughter both live with serious disabilities, and caring for them is essentially a full time job for the parents. I can tell during our visit that it saddens them that they have to keep their daughter restricted to the back of the home and that there is not much help they can give to their son. And yet they still manage to find a way to support their family and not focus on their worries.

These caregivers have sacrificed everything to take care of their disabled children. It is very interesting that with so much construction and building in the city, there is not a facility where the disabled children affected by Agent Orange can be treated. Another disadvantage is that their symptoms vary widely, and even with all of our technology, many victims cannot trace their symptoms directly to Agent Orange. I know from our conversations that there is a clinic and a mental facility but both of these are difficult for families to visit multiple times. For most families, just travelling to get there is too expensive.

After visiting with these families, I was so humbled by the amount of work they are able to get done with the little they have. They are so determined to make better outcomes for their lives. I think it’s important that more advocates help and support organizations like AP that work to find sustainable plans for vulnerable communities. I also think that we must now begin to take advocacy to a new level in order to help more Agent Orange affected families. Maybe we should start thinking about ways to change the environment for disabled people or think about the transportation that many families spend so much money on. I am not sure what the next steps will entail but I know that these families will continue to be resilient.

The Drought

August 12, 2019 12:38 pm Leave a Comment

Many of our supported families have suffered big losses due to the drought happening across Vietnam. I started to notice a pattern every time I asked the question about how much their farms were able to produce and how much money they made off the rice, corn, or other crops. In each instance, a family would share that there is no extra money left over from farming but that the crop goes to food for the home. When most explained this, they would also mention that the crop was less than it has been in the past due to the drought. After clarification from AEPD coordinator Ngoc, I learned that the drought has been an imposition to many of the farmers here in Vietnam. I have done some research and according to some of the Vietnamese news outlets the central region where Dong Hoi is located has faced very high-water shortages. The National English Language Daily for Viet Nam News, in a July article said “Prolonged hot weather in the central region has caused low water levels in reservoirs and dams, seriously affecting agricultural production and the daily lives of local residents.”( You can read more about this here).

When I speak with consistent farmers like the Tran Thi Thao’s family who farm rice, peanuts, and beans, or the Phan That and Nguyen Huu Phuc families who strictly farm rice–they all mention that their crop is much smaller than what they usually have and it’s barely enough to provide food for the family, not to mention selling it for money. Even families that have fruit trees like Mr. Nguyen Ngoc Thin and Duong Thi An are afraid that their fruit trees will not produce as much because of the drought. I found it very interesting that even though this part of Vietnam is known to have pretty much the same four seasons as the U.S., they are currently suffering from a drought. However, I also think about my time here and I have only seen it rain 5 or 6 times in the last 21/2 months, and when it does rain it’s for short moments and then the sun is back with a vengeance. For these families, farming is a very important part of their livelihood. They live off of government compensation alone and the food from the farm truly helps them survive. Without their farm producing enough crops, they are forced to spend more money at markets or borrow money from relatives or neighbors to ensure they have enough food.

They are also the sole caregivers for their disabled children. Everything falls on the parents, many of them wives and mothers. They are forced to figure out how to make ends meet. In many communes there has been no rain in months, threatening their line of work. But as I discuss this with many of the families, they are not saddened by the results from the drought but amount it to the highs and lows of being a farmer. Farming is clearly not an easy job and in America we can easily take for granted the smallest things as rain or freshwater or machines that can water your crop for you. My grandparents live in a small town in North Carolina and I always see plenty of farms and crops growing but the difference there is that they have machines to water the crop and rain is frequent. I feel for these families because as someone who is always hot and sweating from only being outside for 10 minutes or less, I know that the crops are in jeopardy of dying which means our supported families have yet another struggle to consider. I am hoping that as their summer season comes to an end, the rain will come, and the harvest will be restored.

Is Saving an Option

August 8, 2019 12:11 pm Leave a Comment

The partnership between AP and AEPD has allowed families to have another source that can increase their monthly income or help their gardens with fertilizer. AP’s last fellow, Marcella, had the opportunity to see if certain families were able to save and if a microcredit program would work for them. This year we have the chance to dig a little deeper and try to understand if saving is possible for Agent Orange families. Many of the Agent Orange Families are aging and unable to work a consistent job or even farm their fields and take care of their children. For each family, we go into a deep dive about the possibilities of savings.

Mrs. Duong Thi Hue who is a 66 year old mother and caregiver for her two daughters and granddaughter. She deals with constant struggles and continues to overcome the toll that domestic abuse has had on her family. Although her plight is heavy, her main concern is always finding a way to ensure that her family will be okay if she dies. She spends about 3M VND ($130) per month on household necessities and her main income is the government compensation that she gets for her two mentally disabled daughters. Although she lives in poverty, she still can save some money for her family. She fears that no one will be able to take care of her girls, so she has currently saved 37M VND ($1,597) and when times are hard, she is able to pull from this instead of getting a loan. However, she tries very hard not to have to pull from her savings. When we ask her if she would be interested in a savings group, she tells us yes. Unlike many of the other families, she seems to really understand that having something for her family is better than having more right now. Any extra money she has gotten in the past year, she has placed in the savings account.

Mrs. Hue and her granddaughter as she pours some tea for us before the conversation.

Another similar example is Mr. Phan That and his family. His wife has been able to save a smaller amount of 2M ($86) but also shared with us that saving for families like those affected by Agent Orange is hard but even as she cares for her children she understands that it is important to save or try to save. She is a part of another family that wants to ensure that there is something for her children after she and husband have passed on. Although she and her husband are not interested in participating in the savings group due them not being able to contribute consistently, they were very helpful for us to gain more insight about a savings option for these families.

Ms. Hoang Thi Que is the one who tries to save money when she can.

Out of the 11 families that we met with these are the only families that have saved any amount of money. There were 3 families that seemed interested in participating in a saving group, but the rest were definitely not. The consensus I have found is that saving in most cases is not an option for Agent Orange victims. Many of them are older and their focus is on taking care of their children and doing their best to maintain their household. It’s hard to really think about a way to get these families more interested in saving money. Saving can be very complicated for them because every amount is spent on what is needed now. Understanding this is hard because as a volunteer, you want to help, and not being able to promise anything can be hard to do in these circumstances. However, I am still hopeful that the data I have collected will help to inform an option for these families to have something more in the future.

Conception to Implementation

6:47 am 2 Comments

Over the course of the past month, I have continued working here in Harare with Constance and Dickson to finalize plans for WAP’s soap-making project: Soap for Hope. Since this is WAP’s first income-generation program, there has been a lot for us to learn and a lot of details to sort out to make sure the pilot project is a success.

I feel lucky to be taking part firsthand in the process of creating such an innovative economic empowerment project, from conceptualization, to planning and fundraising, to implementation. I know more now about liquid dish soap and how it’s made then I would have ever thought possible!

Everyone needs soap, and many products that are imported from surrounding countries are too expensive for Zimbabwean households. If WAP’s “Clean Girl” soap can be sold at a competitive price, it will likely be quite successful since demand is so high for these types of products.

A selection of some of the common mass produced local soap products

We want to make sure the “Clean Girl” soap packaging and labeling is high quality to make the product stand out and be desirable to consumers. This will help with marketing, as a unique product will be easy for people to remember.

WAP will be working with Mr. Paul, a local soap manufacturer here in Harare. I recently had a meeting with him to learn more about his experience and get his thoughts on our proposal. He has been working in this industry since 1989. He worked in South Africa from 1995-2002, and in 2002 he started his own company here in Harare called Egoboost. He has vast experience working with chemicals and will be a great resource for WAP during this process.

The group of girls involved in Soap for Hope will be divided into teams so that they can all learn skills and be involved in all aspects of the project. Some will be working on marketing and distribution, others will help with bookkeeping and invoices, and others will assist with management.

I have been lucky to meet and interact with the girls from Epworth who will be participating in this project and I know that they are going to do an amazing job and learn so much. They are all quite motivated and have formed a tight community within their club. The last time we visited them, one of the members actually read us the minutes from their last meeting in which they designated roles for some of the girls: co-chair, secretary, photographer, outreach coordinator to name a few. They meet twice a week, and have begun traveling to a nearby park to play netball together. They also have a dance team – made possible from a small music speaker donated by their Ambassador Trish – and they hope to be able to compete and perform locally someday soon.

Epworth club members Rudo, Monica, Kezia, Emily and Praise with their Ambassador

WAP’s Ambassador in Epworth, Trish Makanhiwa

I will be very excited to see how this program progresses and grows once the pilot project starts – I believe the combination of skill-building, community outreach, economic empowerment and teamwork will be very valuable for all of the girls involved and the local community can also benefit from having a high quality affordable product on the market.

If you would like to donate to the project, you can visit our Global Giving page here. **From August 12-16, all donations up to $50 will be matched 50% so that is a great opportunity to stretch your dollars a little farther!

Sources of Income for Agent Orange Families

August 5, 2019 12:28 pm Leave a Comment

After visiting all eleven families I have come to some interesting conclusions. The Advocacy Project, with help from AEPD, has been able to give the majority of the funded families a buffalo/cow and a calf for the rearing business model. This will likely help them with farming rice, corn, etc. or when an emergency happens gives them the capital to sell the animals for money. Along with these provided animals, many families have chickens, ducks, and pigs. Some also have fruit trees. During my visits, I have learned that in Dong Hoi there are multiples communes, like the districts or wards in the Maryland and D.C. area. Each commune is different in how they operate from the council or local government to the markets and fruit trees they have and are able to grow. I realize that there is some difference in the sources of income or animal investments that each family has. I found the differences in animals very interesting because each animal can be a source of income and in many cases help the families in an emergency –especially when they are trying not to get a loan or borrow money from a relative.

For some families, especially mothers who are the sole caregiver for their children, they appreciate having a buffalo or cow especially for capital and emergencies. However, raising pigs, chickens, and ducks is a little easier for them to manage. Since these mothers are usually over the age of 50 , it can be hard on their bodies. Mai Thi Loi and Duong Thi An (You can read more about both of their stories here) are the leads in their households and with little to no help they find that raising smaller animals is easier to manage—especially pigs. However, currently there is a deadly pig disease going on and in many cases the pigs die before one can sell them or use them for food. This disease is so bad that many places across Vietnam have stopped serving pork. Even still, many would rather buy mother pigs for breeding and selling piglets. Based on my visits, I have learned that pigs can sell for 3M-6M VND ($130-260).

Other Families like that of Le Than Duc (You can read more about his story here) would prefer to get more chickens. Chickens produce multiple sources of food. A family can use the eggs, the actual meat from chicken and can make some money from selling it to others. It appears that almost every family that I visit has at least 5 to 10 chickens because they are easy to manage. During the visits with our Agent Orange families I would always see at least one chicken walking around outside. This seems to be the same for families that also have ducks or geese, the only difference is that most families that have ducks or geese have some source of water nearby. Chickens and ducks seem to sell anywhere between 6M-10M VND ($260-432).

Buffalos and cows are a bigger source of income for the families. They help to produce fertilizer for their farms, as well as some plowing. To gain some insight on this I asked one of the families that have had multiple business ventures over the years. The Nguyen Ngoc Thin family lives about two hours from the city center. He currently has cows and a garden for his fruit trees. He shares with us that the fertilizer from the cows is the best one for farming. Having cows also helps his capital even if he is not selling them. Once the cow and calf get big, he could sell one, but he does not know yet when and if he will sell because he wants to increase the scale of cows. He explains that if he has more cows, he will have more fertilizer and have more capital. He says the only way he will sell a cow is for an emergency but for now, he will keep them. Mr. Thin says that cows are also more reliable because it makes him credible and if he is unable to pay for something the banks, relatives, and neighbors know that he can sell the cows for money. He says if he did not have the cows he would have to walk to his neighbors and ask for fertilizer and growing his garden would be hard. It is also easier for him to get a loan if he has cows. In this case we realize the having cows is very lucrative for a family like Mr. Thin (You can read more about his story here). Once a cow is ready, a family can make anywhere between 20M-30M VND ($863-1295) or more.

Buffalos are similar to cows in terms of helping with fertilizer and farming. However, the buffalo is a little harder to manage for women. Out of the eleven families supported, only 3 have buffalos. A buffalo can also sell for 15M-25M VND ($648-$1080).

Selling all of these animals for any amount of money helps to cover a hospital bill or purchase household essentials for a couple of months.The amount of money a family makes can depend on the health, weight, and age of the animal. The ranges can easily shift, and I think for most families, especially Agent Orange families, they try to keep as many animals as possible for emergencies. Cows overall are the best investment for these families, even with the increase of families using machines to plow and farm, the fertilizer from the cows is still the best to use to help the crop grow. So, I guess right now, I would say cows and chickens are the most helpful for families like these. They give the best outcomes for the household.

Attributing Outcomes

July 31, 2019 5:17 pm 2 Comments

It is clear that the ultimate goals of WAP’s “Give Us Books Not Husbands” clubs lead by the Ambassadors Against Child Marriage are to 1) educate and empower girls and 2) prevent girls from getting married.

WAP has been grateful to find that so far since the clubs began operating in January 2019, none of the club members have gotten married. This is quite a powerful outcome for the Ambassadors program, and the organization hopes to continue – and increase – this trend as more girls become involved in the coming years.

I have been meeting and talking with almost all of the club members over the past two months, but more recently I hoped to learn more about how and why the WAP club activities have prevented girls from getting married. When I sat down with girls from Chitungwiza, Epworth, and Mbare I discussed this question with them: “if this club did not exist – you had not met your Ambassador and learned from her – do you think it is possible you would have been married?”

Constance speaking with one of the Chitungwiza club members

The club members in Epworth and Mbare actually wrote out their responses for us on paper. Constance advised me it is probably easier for many of them to discuss such things through writing, since they might be shy or have trouble coming up with an answer verbally.

Epworth club members writing their responses

Written responses from Epworth club members

It is important to note that some of the girls actually answered “no” to this question – in other words these girls feel that even if the WAP club did not exist in their community, they would not get married. Their reasons range from the fact that they have been in school, they have been warned about the consequences of marriage by their family members, and they are not being abused.

Thelma in Chitungwiza responded that she would not have gotten married even if the club didn’t exist because she has strong self-esteem, she is in school, and is not being abused by her family.

Tatenda in Epworth told us that she would not have been married because her mother always tells her to finish school first and reach her future goals before being married.

When girls responded “yes” (they would have been married if not for the club’s existence) they noted reasons such as peer pressure, abuse, and lack of knowledge.

Kudzaishe in Chitungwiza answered that yes, she might have been married because some girls at her school were telling her getting married is good.

Chitungwiza club member Nokutenda responded by saying yes she might have gotten married because she did not know about the causes of child marriage or why it was bad before attending Evelyn’s club.

Natasha in Epworth wrote that she would get married if the club did not exist because of poverty at home.

Emily wrote to us that she was in a difficult situation at home and would have been forced into marriage if it were not for her Ambassador Trish in Epworth.

Lynn in Mbare wrote that before the existence of their club, she could have considered getting married. But through the teachings in the club, she has learned a lot of things including about the challenges that come after early marriage, so it changed her way of thinking and she is able to avoid being married until the right time comes.

Questions and responses such as these are key for WAP to be able to measure its impact and to understand the type of influence it is having on its beneficiaries. And the fact that girls answered “no” when asked this question does not mean WAP has not been successful or that it is targeting the wrong outcomes.

It is inevitable that some of the girls in the Ambassadors’ clubs would truly have avoided marriage if the clubs did not exist. But it is not necessary (or really possible) to try and ascertain who exactly is at the most risk and only target those girls in these communities – WAP’s goals for its outreach to young girls expands beyond just avoidance of child marriage. Despite the fact that girls may not have gotten married without the club, they would not have had the opportunities to learn more about topics like Zimbabwean marriage laws, human rights, and sexual and reproductive health.

It is of course not possible to attribute the lack of marriage among the club participants entirely to the Ambassadors program – as I have discovered, there could realistically be many other factors at play in these girls’ lives. But the fact that they have all managed to stay out of marriage up until this point is reason enough for WAP to try to determine what role they have played in that outcome. And it is also very uplifting and positive news to receive for an organization which is working to keep girls empowered, educated and out of marriage.

Victimization vs. Empowerment – using embroidery to share powerful stories

July 24, 2019 9:08 am 4 Comments

Storytelling is a powerful method of spreading knowledge and presenting different sides of an issue. However, there is a challenge when sharing peoples’ stories – particularly those who have been through terrible things – to ensure they are not being exploited or misrepresented. Sharing images and personal stories of people who have been through hardship can be a useful and important way to get others motivated behind an issue, but it has to be done in a way that is respectful and realistic as well.

Most people are inundated with images of suffering people in an attempt to raise awareness and money for humanitarian crises, natural disasters, conflicts, and social issues. The images we see may be distorted or even incorrect; The subjects might not have been asked for their permission to be photographed, photographers might not be given credit, and people often do not follow guidelines when photographing children.

In the 1980s the term “poverty porn” came about to describe the use of startling pictures – usually of starving African children – in fundraising ads, and more recently stereotypical negative photos are referred to as “flies in the eyes” imagery. Images can serve to degrade and victimize people who are not necessarily helpless and who deserve dignity. And of course, positive imagery depicting progress and prosperity can be just as misleading. So, it is a very difficult line to walk when relying on imagery.

This is something that I believe will always be an issue with charitable giving, humanitarian action and awareness campaigns. More and more, I think NGOs, non-profit organizations and humanitarian actors need to take care to utilize images and stories in a way that is empowering to those they are profiling.

Denis Kennedy, “Selling the Distant Other: Humanitarianism and Imagery-Ethical Dilemmas of Humanitarian Action.”

What the Advocacy Project Peace Fellows have been trying to do since the program started in 2003 is to raise awareness and funds for social issues around the world. As fellows, we were trained on how to take photos sensitively after asking for permission, how to interview people, write profiles, and spread knowledge about each issue we are working on. Faces may be left out of photos or names changed to protect the identities of vulnerable people. And we were also taught that there is a delicate balance when using someone’s story or experience to benefit other people who are experiencing the same thing.

I feel that Advocacy Project’s advocacy quilting tradition is a creative way to share powerful messages and personal accounts in a way that is empowering and accurate. When people are asked to come up with an image that represents their experience and then craft that image by hand, they have an even closer personal connection to that story than a photograph. And some things cannot be captured in a photo. In some cases, participants have been able to learn a skill (embroidery) that they can use to generate income or to use as a creative outlet.

A selection of some of the Advocacy Project’s quilts relating to women’s issues

Dickson, WAP Program Officer, helps select fabric for WAP’s child marriage advocacy quilt

Here in Zimbabwe, WAP has the goal of producing a child marriage advocacy quilt by the end of the summer. Earlier this month, Constance and I attended the monthly meeting of the Harare Patchwork and Quilters Guild by the invitation of the chairlady Tina Telford. Tina asked me to share a bit about WAP’s programming as well as our goals for the advocacy quilt. Several of the guild members volunteered to assist with the training.

Tina leading the guild meeting
Constance and I at the guild meeting

We held the first embroidery training recently, and 9 girls were tutored on different stitching techniques. We were lucky enough to be assisted by members of the Harare Patchwork and Quilters Guild, who donated their time and supplies to teach the girls some stitches and sewing methods.

Tina teaches Tanatsmuwa, Trish and Evelyn

Judy Smallpiece teaches and Kundai and Hazunneyi

Anne Matonga teaches Emily, Mirriam and Lynn

Over the next 5 weeks, these girls will work on their squares to put together an image that represents child marriage to them. Some of these young women have actually been married in the past, others have been raped and had children, and others have been able to avoid marriage altogether. It is our hope that creative visual representations of these experiences and feelings can raise even more awareness about the issue of child marriage in Zimbabwe. Stay tuned for the finished quilt squares!

More photos of the training can be found here on Flickr.

And if you have not yet had a chance to donate to our income-generation project, please take a second to visit our Global Giving campaign to donate or share within your network.

References:

Dolinar, Maja, and Polana Sitar. “The Use of Stereotypical Images of Africa in Fundraising Campaigns.” European Scientific Journal, vol. 9, no. 11, Apr. 2013, pp. 20–32., doi: 1857 – 7881.

Gharib, Malaka. “At What Point Does A Fundraising Ad Go Too Far?” NPR, NPR, 30 Sept. 2015.

Kennedy, Denis. “Selling the Distant Other: Humanitarianism and Imagery-Ethical Dilemmas of Humanitarian Action.” The Journal of Humanitarian Assistance, 28 Feb. 2009.

Girls, Brick, and Mortar – Stabilizing Forces of a Community

July 23, 2019 9:38 am 4 Comments

Above ground work is underway, with brick and mortar walls the next in line for completion. As of the last blog, the substructure was completed and the necessary slab over the latrine pit was scheduled for Saturday’s work. Come Monday, the 15^th of July, the crew commenced brick and mortar construction of the walls forming the stances, latrine enclosure, and ramps that will contour the latrine superstructure.

The sub pump served its purpose in removing the water from the pit to a desired level. A meter of water is to remain in the pit to promote proper mixing of the dung and urine to promote dilution and some mitigation of odor. The latrine pit without a base level of water is deemed inoperable, as it would be difficult to drain the pit via a ducting system or sub pump if it was allowed to remain a solid, unmixed mass of waste.

Brick and mortar work may look simplistic, like stacking children’s building blocks, but there is a science and artistry to building a sustainable wall. The mortar must harden between symmetrical spaced bricks to create an edifice that will endure rain, winds, and the test of time. Exact lining, spacing, and placement of bricks must be meticulously repeated and checked by every crew member. Teamwork, attention to detail, and collective monitoring will guarantee accurate construction and adherence to David’s engineering plans.

Plastic sheeting is laid over the base, with ample mortar spread to ensure proper adhesion in the placement of the bricks. Five centimeters of spacing allows for mortar placement between two adjoining bricks and bonds the bricks, creating a water tight seal. This provides an additional strengthening force to the weight of the bricks themselves, as the mortar dries, hardens, and stabilizes.

The plum bob has been around since ancient Egyptian times of pyramid building and is used to ensure verticality between subsequent brick layers and the alignment of the entire structure with ground level. The latrine walls must be perfectly aligned with ground level in the vertical from base to roof. This ensures even weight distribution, as the weight of one brick layer falls evenly with gravity to the layer below. Any deviation, to the slightest degree, will promote an uneven weight transfer, leaning, and lead to wall weakening, mortar disintegration, and eventual collapse.

Much care is taken to make sure every brick is lined correctly by the use of a marker string made stationary by the weight of the plum bob over the last brick. The cornerstone is set in place using plum bob alignment, as each layer extending from the cornerstone is vertically aligned with ground level. This precision is checked and rechecked with each brick layer, as alignment mistakes are negated to ensure the construction of a wall even with ground level, standing strong against the elements.

The construction plan calls for five enclosures – four for latrine stances, and a separate changing room for girls in the fifth. A command decision will have to be made by the school leaders and community on the dedicated use of the latrine stances. It is common to not have boys and girls use the same stances in such proximity for safety, privacy, and decency concerns. These are young children, not at a maturity level for communal bathrooms, even if partitioned by walls and locking doors.

In conversing with Martin, one of the school teachers, he proposed the use of this latrine as girls only, until a boy’s latrine can be constructed. The reasoning was validated by Paul, the GDPU sports director, and David the construction engineer. They both noticed about 10 girls present in the teen to preteen age range. This is good for the school and the community, and equates to them not being married off as child brides, which is common in Africa, the Middle East, Latin America, and Europe. Their attendance coincides with the work being conducted by my colleague, McLane Harrington, in Zimbabwe, and the Women Advocacy Project (WAP). They seek to promote and protect the rights of vulnerable and marginalized women and girls in Zimbabwean communities and to prevent the practice of child marriage.

The designation of this latrine for girls only may be the wisest decision the school and community makes. It will promote increased attendance by girls and help to contradict the child marriage traditions of the community and disavow the gender inequality beliefs. Women can be considered a ‘burden’ on their family and valued less than boys, and this belief must be eradicated. The tradition of marrying a girl off once she menstruates and reaches ‘womanhood’, in the eyes of the community, must be abandoned. Community systems that cling to the tradition of child marriage and undervalue the contribution and participation of girls and women limit their own possibilities for growth, stability, and transformation.

“Traditions are made by people, and can be unmade by them”, as was spoken by Graca Machel, the widow of Nelson Mandela.

The Burdensome Loans of Agent Orange Families

July 21, 2019 10:54 am Leave a Comment

After visiting some of the Agent Orange families, I learned that high-interest on Personal Loans can be quite burdensome, especially if you’re pursued by lowell group of debt collectors. While many in America deal with the same plight of having to pay high-interest rate loans that come from student debt or credit card purchases, these loans are quite different. Many loans that Agent Orange families have include no clear deadline or interest rate. I have now visited more than eight families and almost every family has a loan that they are struggling to pay back. For an Agent Orange family or caregiver to even acquire a loan is difficult in the first place because there is a heavy stigma that they will not be able to pay it back or afford the interest. For this reason, some are forced to ask their relatives or children for financial assistance.

The majority of the families that we work with get some sort of government compensation. However, they are still consumed with the cost of food, household essentials, and any medical visits. From my conversations, I have gathered that loans are often used for hospital visits or medication. While health insurance in Dong Hoi, Vietnam is completely covered for Agent Orange families, the medications for surgeries and travel for hospital visits are not covered through the insurance plan. It is right in doing so, for some websites (like https://www.marketreview.com/insurance/life/) advocate that the rest of the expenses would be borne by other kinds of insurances in some countries.

My first family visit was with Mrs. Miet, somber because of her husband’s hospitalization. She shared with us that she currently owes 2M VND ($86) to her relatives for the help she received in paying for hospital visits. She doesn’t know how she will pay this amount; selling the cow is an option but even that is difficult since she is not able to walk around on her own to find a good buyer. Although this installment loans do not have a deadline or interest, she still has no way of paying it.

Ms. Pham Thi Do and her family also have a loan total of 7M VND ($302) with a 200,000VND ($9) interest rate per month that incurred after the death of her son, Tuan. She is the only one in her family that can maintain the land, and even with the government compensation that she and her family receive, she will not be able to meet the deadline: the end of the Lunar year.

The Pham Thi Do Family, AEPD Coordinator Ngoc, and I at the family visit

The mother in one of our newly supported families, Mrs. Vo Thi Toa, had to take out a loan of 10M VND ($432) when her eldest son once had to go the hospital. The loan was provided by her children not affected by Agent Orange, so there is no interest or no deadline.

In an even more precarious situation is Mr. Nguyen Ngoc Thin, who has a loan in the amount of 30-40M VND ($1,300-$1,700) for chemical fertilizer to help his garden and mix it with the cow fertilizer. He pays no interest and has no deadline since he has the capital of his cows. For Mr. Thin, having cows as capital allows him to be valuable to the banks and if they ask for the money back, he can sell one of the cows.

AEPD Coordinator Ngoc, AEPD Outreach worker, and I learning about Mr. Nguyen Ngoc Thin’s financial woes.

Mr. Tran Thi Thao has a loan of 70M VND ($3,022) with no interest or deadline that was used for repairs on his home, he did not have home insurance back then, now he is covered by the First American Home Warranty. Since he and his wife have multiple cows now along with farming, he can have food and supplies for the home but not enough to put a dent in the loan amount. To receive guidance from our high-value home insurance experts go through https://www.morisoninsurance.ca/home-insurance/high-value-home-insurance/ . For them, paying the loan is not the priority but it still hangs over their heads as they try to focus on the health of their daughters.

Some of the more extreme families are the Phan That family and Le Than Duc’s family. Mr. That has a loan of 100M VND ($4,317) and Mr. Duc has a loan of 200M VND ($8,635). Both loans seem to be very high with very extreme interest rates. Paying these loans seems like an unimaginable goal for both families when most of their income comes from the government and anything extra goes toward food or household essentials.

AEPD Coordinator Ngoc, The Taiwanese Interns, and I talking with the Phan That family about their loan.

These families have shown me that even though some of their loans don’t have interest or deadlines, they still weigh heavy on their household income and their ability to afford to save or have any money besides what they get from their government compensation. Each time I meet with a family and we talk about their loans, I can see the burden in their eyes and I think about how and what we can do to help these families that may never be able to pay their debts and continue to live month to month on nothing but the amount they receive from the government.

A Seed for Prosperity and Family

July 20, 2019 5:58 am 4 Comments

Over three years ago, Children Peace Initiative Kenya (CPI) came to Baragoi to begin a peace program. The conflict between people of the Samburu and Turkana ethnicities was very much still active (as it is now), and the need for an innovative peace program was apparent. While the program began with great promise, a funding gap prevented the program from being continued to fruition. Mitcccny is best site to have guide from.

Now, CPI has returned. The division between the Turkana and Samburu is currently defined as a corridor of conflict with its unofficial line of demarcation being the principal road running North-South through Baragoi. To the East of the road are the Samburu people and to the West are the Turkana people. The owners of residences and businesses are relegated to abide by this norm.

On Wednesday the 3^rd of July (2019), approximately 5 days into our mobilization effort, I met with a beneficiary of this previous program. Despite its brevity, this program had an immense impact on the lives of two families of beneficiaries. The beneficiaries were the families of James Esokon (of Turkana ethnic identity) and Chief Leparoiya (of Samburu ethnic identity), whose respective sons, Collins and Charles, participated in the 2016 program.

Hilary Bukuno (on the left) and James Esokon sit on the front steps of the Morning Star Hotel to discuss how friendship has brought prospertity

James Esokon happily met with Hilary Bukuno (CEO of CPI Kenya) and I on that stifling hot afternoon. We sat together on the front steps of the Morning Star Hotel in Baragoi facing the same street that divided the town. After getting to know one another, we began to listen of Mr. Esokon’s account of his life before and after the Peace Camp program.

Prior to the 2016 attempt to begin a Peace Program, Mr. Esokon attested that he could not venture into Samburu territory, especially where his new friend lives. He claimed that “without knowing anyone, I could have been killed!” This sentiment was complemented by the fact that before meeting the Chief and his son, he didn’t have relations with any Samburu and generally feared the people of Ngilai.

However, now, the resident of Nalin’gan’gor village frequently makes the long trek to Ngilai to visit his friend, even being welcomed and recognized by residents of Ngilai as a companion of the chief. More importantly, the meeting of their sons in 2016 united the two families. They met shortly after the exchange program that brought Chief Leparoiya to his small village. Following heartful conversations, they quickly became friends.

Over the years their friendship has grown even stronger. From their children spending holidays together to helping each other conduct trade across community boundaries, their friendship has brought mutual prosperity, security, and a new definition of family.

The redefining of “family” that I am alluding to pertains to the sharing of important milestones and ceremonies that were once limited to community members and immediate family. For instance, the practice of circumcision during adolescence is an important rite within both Turkana and Samburu communities separately. When Mr. Esokon’s son’s, Collins, ceremony occurred, Chief Leparoiya attended and gifted the family with a goat. Now, James Esokon has the opportunity to help Chief Leparoiya prepare for his son’s circumcision ceremony. The Chief has asked him to find a goat hide for his son to wear during the multi-day ritual marking the transition to adulthood.

The sharing of such important rites complements additional signs of respect and appreciation. Mr. Esokon recounts that the Chief has gifted him three goats in total and frequently visits his son, who is now schooling in Maralal (the capital of Samburu County). Such a close relationship has also facilitated the trade of livestock between Samburu and Turkana communities. Due to the Chief’s political weight within the community of Ngilai, Mr. Esokon can freely bring his animals to Samburu markets. And, when tensions are high between the communities, Mr. Esokon escorts the Chief’s livestock for sale within Turkana territory.

Karito Leparoiya, the son of Chief Leparoiya and Peace Camp beneficiary

I found myself moved by the stories Mr. Esokon revealed to me. So, throughout the rest of my time in Baragoi I sought to speak to Chief Leparoiya. Unfortunately, our schedules never properly lined up for a meeting to take place. Nonetheless, I was able to meet with Chief Leparoiya’s youngest son, Karito Leparoiya. Karito was part of the Peace Camp in Bendera (a small village outside of Baragoi) and agreed to speak with me on the last day of the inter-communal events.

The 14-year old student of class 6 gave off an aura of confidence that seemed to mask his small stature. He quickly substantiated all the stories provided by Mr. Esokon. Furthermore, Karito added that Mr. Esokon is “like an uncle” to him and frequently brings fresh milk to his family’s house, while he also keep his house clean of any pests, since this could damage your home a lot and Organic Lesson says you can find good services online to get help with this.. Now, having witnessed what the Peace Program can do for his family, Karito wants to be an ambassador for peace to educate the rest of his community.

As Karito attests, and I have observed, the advantages to individuals and families of the Peace Program are immense. In just a short period of time, and without the entire program being completed in Baragoi, two families have realized how friendship and prosperity are interlinked. Now, the goal is to carry the program to its completion. With years of involvement ahead, CPI and Zivik anticipate creating hundreds of friendships that can lift communities out of abject poverty.

If you wish to help Children Peace Initiative Kenya’s ongoing project in Baragoi, please visit the GlobalGiving page or contact CPI Kenya directly.

Hilary asks Peace Camp attendees, “who will bring their new friend to their village and introduce him/her to their family”. Almost everyone raises their hand.

First Mission… Field Visit

July 17, 2019 9:42 am 4 Comments

We had planned for me to start visiting the families immediately since so much time had already been lost. Ngoc has it scheduled that we visit at least 3 families a day. I have 3 families to visit today. The first morning we leave at around 8:15am for the first family. In the car that day was Dahlia (AEPD Mines Action Canadian Intern), Ngoc (AEPD Coordinator), Hoang Thu Hien (New AEPD Project Officer), and the driver. We drive about 30 minutes toward more farmlands than city life to my first family, Le Van Dung and Dang Thi Miet. Around a winding road we pull up to a small but very quaint house. Ms. Miet was smiling when we arrived. She is so small that, at only 5 feet, I am nearly twice her size. She welcomes us in her home, but it seems very quiet based on the previous blogs I have read. I see one boy who seems to be a teenager and I assume that he is the grandson.

Listening to Ms. Miet talk about her husband’s health struggles

As we sit down, I now see signs of her husband. Later during our conversation, we would find out that he has been in hospital and is scheduled to have surgery in Hanoi. (For more information on this family’s story see their profile). Once we leave, I tell Ms. Miet that I will be praying for her husband’s surgery and their family. I left feeling a little melancholy. I know that we were not able to answer many of our survey questions because her husband was in the hospital and that’s all she could focus on. During the session, I am glad that the Canadian intern Dahlia is there to take pictures during our conversations that day and I ask that she uses my professional camera during the next family visit. We drive about 30 minutes to the next family. In the car I am a tad nervous because this family has suffered hardship. During our last visit, we found out that the son, Tuan, had died. It has been a year since that visit, and I am interested in what the environment will be like.

Passing the open road, we turn down to Pham Thi Do and her family home. As we get out the car we walk toward the husband and wife, who seem distant at first and startled by our arrival. The father has on shorts and t- shirt but immediately goes to put on his uniform from when he was in the military. I can tell he is proud of his service. We take our shoes off as is done every time we enter a home. This family has suffered great tragedy in the past year with the death of their son Tuan. The family still has the altar up in remembrance of him. The emotion in the room is very much different from that of the first family I visited but still quite somber.

Ngoc prays at the altar before we begin to remember Tuan. We sit down together and begin to talk about all that has happened since the last visit. During our conversation Ms. Do was overwhelmed many times when she talked about her son. As we gained more insight into the conversation, we could tell that she misses him very much as he was the only one to help her around the house and with their daughter. Now that he is gone, she is left to doing everything herself. (Read more about this family here.)

My last family of the day was that of Le Thanh Duc. This visit was more conversational. After introductions and a few opening questions, Mr. Le Thanh Duc shows us his fish sauce, chickens and ducks and then talks about the possibility of one day owning his own grocery store. The interview ended on a nice note, not being able to promise anything but still giving hope for the future. Tomorrow I will visit more of the families that will answer my survey questions in a different way.

Reproductive and Sexual Health Education

July 16, 2019 7:24 am 4 Comments

In addition to poverty, one particular issue that is closely tied to child marriage in Zimbabwe is reproductive and sexual health education. A lack of this type of knowledge can lead to STIs and early pregnancy which can be very dangerous for young girls.

When a girl gets pregnant around the age of 15 or 16, her chances of having a healthy pregnancy and delivery are greatly diminished. According to UNFPA, complications during pregnancy and childbirth are one of the leading causes of death and disability among women of reproductive age (15-49 years) in Zimbabwe. This report by the Guttmacher Institute illustrates that one-quarter of 15–19-year-old women in the country have started childbearing, and one-third of all births to adolescents are unplanned (wanted later or not at all). In other countries where women usually have more options and opportunities for their sexual health even improving it as you can read on vtightensafely.com and other online sources, it is very opposite with other less fortunate countries. Early marriage is closely linked most with teen motherhood, as marriage unions are typically expected to result in the birth of a baby within the first year or two of marriage.

WAP staff interviewed this 16 year old girl, who was impregnated and then abandoned by her husband

STIs are also a large problem for young women in these communities. In 2011, 15% of 15–49-year-olds in Zimbabwe were HIV positive,[1] and sexual activity without consistent condom use can expose adolescents to HIV infection. There is currently a lack of free and informative access to health services that include contraceptives, treatment for sexually transmitted infections and condoms, and studies show that rates of adolescent pregnancy and HIV are increasing, while knowledge about sexual health is declining (MSF). Hopes are high that attitudes will change after the Truvada class action lawsuit and that these communities will shape their future with the proper access to health services. People everywhere deserve the very best preventative knowledge on diseases.

To address this absence of widespread education WAP targets reproductive and sexual health education for their clubs because of its close ties with early marriage as well as girls’ empowerment. The Girls Not Brides “Stand Up, Speak Out” training manuals used by WAP’s Ambassadors in their club meetings includes training materials and information about the health risks of early pregnancy and unprotected sex.

The Girls Not Brides “Stand up, Speak out!” training manual

“It denies her the right to a healthy life or to control her own sexual and reproductive health and rights through forced pregnancy”

Consequences of child marriage:
“…girls are often pressured into motherhood at a young age which increases risk of death or injury during pregnancy and childbirth. It also increase risk of death and long-term health complications for newborn children. It increases girls’ exposure to HIV/AIDS, as girls cannot negotiate safe sex practices. “

It is hoped that by providing this educational material and being taught by one of their peers (another young woman) the girls will be empowered and have the tools to avoid pregnancy and STIs. It is clear from our interviews of club members that the sexual and reproductive health lessons have made their mark:

Patience in Hopley learned through her club about the potential issues and dangers of early pregnancy.

Talent in Waterfalls says the most important thing she has learned is about reproductive health

Tanatsmuwa in Waterfalls has learned about how you can get STIs from having sex

WAP also assists girls whenever possible by providing sanitary pads. This assistance is key, since sanitary pads and tampons are incredibly expensive in the country currently. We also hope that this will help to reduce the stigma around menstruation and reproductive health.

Constance stocks up on sanitary pads to provide to club members.
The girls in the Epworth Give us Books Not Husbands club pose with their sanitary pads
One of the older club members in Epworth demonstrates how to use sanitary pads.

Going forward, WAP will continue utilizing this peer-to-peer educational model to increase young girls’ ability to make informed decisions about their health and their lives.

A brief reminder: Global Giving’s July Bonus Day is taking place on Thursday (the 18^th) and during that time, all donations over $100 will be matched up to 50%. Please consider sharing the fundraiser (link here) or donating to help support WAP’s income-generation project!

[1] Zimbabwe National Statistics Agency (ZIMSTAT) and ICF International, Zimbabwe Demographic and Health Survey, 2010–2011, Calverton, MD, USA: ZIMSTAT and ICF International, 2012.

Joseph the Artist

5:09 am 5 Comments

The heat of the mid-morning sun had wiped away any sensation of chill in the air. In mere hours, the temperature had climbed more than ten degrees Celsius. While the children were enjoying a group activity that employed old newspapers as fabric for an inter-ethnic fashion show, I remained nostalgic of the cooler hours and hid underneath the tallest tree I could find. Hiding from the sun was the least I could do for my body. My pink forehead and nose inspired the children to giggle at me, seeing me as some grotesquely painted clown.

While I hid underneath that acacia tree, on that final day of the Zivik-CPI Kenya Peace Camp in the village of Bendera, just a short distance from the town of Baragoi, I met with a young man named Joseph Longeri Nangodia. I initially met him briefly as I sprinted to the store room to gather my camera. I shook his hand and said hello as I passed, completely unaware of who he was. I met him again as the “fashion show” begun. He sat next to me and we briefly exchanged a few niceties as I showed him the cumbersome camera that I bought just months before. However, our conversation was cut short as I jumped to action to snap photos of the “show”.

Joseph, the 17 year old young man that I got to know on my last day in Bendera

While on my knee for one photograph, Monica Kinyua (the CPI Kenya Deputy Director) asked me “have you met Joseph?” Not knowing the story of Joseph, I responded all too quickly, “yes”. Aware of the shortcomings of my response, Monica merely told me that he was a beneficiary of the 2016 Peace Program and maybe I should talk to him a bit more.

Before lunch I asked Joseph if he would like to find a place to talk about his experiences. His response was a bright smile that contrasted with his sad eyes and, in a soft voice, he said “sure”.

We quickly found a spot that was in the shadow of the store room and sat on the cold concrete (a welcomed respite from the overbearing heat). While our conversation begun by talking about his schooling, his struggle to continue his education begged the question of his past.

In a matter-the-fact manner he told me his father was killed in 2015, when he was merely 13 years old. His father was killed in a cattle raid that claimed much of his family’s wealth as well as his father’s life. He explained how he was home during the raid, while his father had taken the cattle out to graze. While he had heard the gunshots, he didn’t realize that his father had died until his mother was contacted by the police later that evening.

Joseph’s sketch of the Governor of Samburu wearing the traditional costume

The raid left him fatherless and his family struggling to make ends meet. His mother began to sell charcoal in order to bring food back to the home. The constant challenge to gather enough income for basic necessities prevented Joseph from feeling anger or truly expressing his sadness. He was distracted by the needs of the present. The survival of the family was at hand, and such reflection on loss was understood by Joseph as “self-indulgent”.

Luckily, Joseph had a blossoming talent up his sleeve. His talent could be a way out of poverty as well as his therapy. This talent was his art.

Less than a year after the raid that took his father’s life, Joseph attests that the CPI peace program helped give him a sense of peace and solidarity with those who have also been harmed by cattle raids. Beneficiaries who had encountered trauma due to persistent conflict, on either end of the Turkana-Samburu ethnic divide, allowed Joseph to begin to digest the events of a year prior.

Joseph’s sketch of a Member of the County Assembly wearing we traditional wedding attire

Joseph’s artwork also helped. From early on, Joseph had a talent for sketching. He would find him self drawing pictures after school as a hobby. Following the short-lived program in 2016 (where funding shortfalls prevented the fruition of the project), he was able to begin one journey of handling the trauma of his past. Simultaneously, he would use his love for art to address the long journey away from poverty.

Joseph’s depiction of the Member of Parliament, the Hon. Lesuuda, Josephine *Naisula*

He began the journey by drawing sketches for his science class. A teacher had taken notice of his ability and asked him to create images to help instruct students. This simple gesture gave him confidence to begin creating cultural images and portraits. Some of the portraits have been of local political leaders in traditional garb. Some of the portraits have just been of children he has seen in his neighborhood. And, some of these portraits have been sold for a modest price to bolster his family’s income.

Joseph’s sketch of a young boy from Baragoi town

With some recognition of his talent in the remote town of Baragoi, he hopes to go to the University of Nairobi and refine it further. Nonetheless, the cost of attending university is an immense hurdle. Joseph acknowledges that “only those from good schools and money get to go to university and study fine arts”. Despite this, not having formal training has given his art a sense of originality, injecting a bit of himself into every drawing. If you have any interest in helping Joseph overcome this hurdle, please contact Children Peace Initiative Kenya (link: https://cpikenya.org/ / info@cpikenya.org ).

And, if you would like to support the current Zivik-CPI 2019 Peace Program in Baragoi, please visit our GlobalGiving page.

First Week of Hard Work and Bliss

July 15, 2019 10:27 am 4 Comments

I wake up around 5:30 every morning, which is very weird for me since at home that would probably never happen unless I am traveling with family or friends. I lay there for a second, realizing that today I actually get to go in to the office and be around the staff. I leave my room to get breakfast from downstairs in the hostel. Once I turn the corner to get to the office, I see Ngoc and we laugh upon seeing each other, both thinking about the weekend we just had together, and then Ms. Hong smiles at us both. I walk up and Ms. Hong gives me a big warm hug and says “Finally!” And I say, “Yes, Finally!” We all walk into the office and I meet Thao (AEPD Accountant), who has also been working with her husband to help with my work visa process.

The four of us then head off to get some coffee to start the day and allow Ngoc to tell them about our journey. As I sat there and listen to Ngoc explain the story to them in Vietnamese, I began to think about all the things I had to get done now in less than the ten weeks allocated. I started to make a list in my head and think about the questions and when we were going to the field which would be next week. I knew that today would be a long day for me. The desk space that they have for me was nice. There is a beautiful plant in the window that reminds me of my own plant my grandmother gave to me (I named her Beatrice and have been making sure my mother is watering her while I’m gone). After the lunch break, I continued to work on creating templates for the families we would interview in the following weeks. Later that day, the Canadian intern and I were asked to help with some ideas for the new café that AEPD was building. The paint had gone up and we were asked what colors they should use and if we thought the inside was nice. We gave our opinions and then discussed ideas for about 30 minutes then went back inside.

After work, Ngoc, Thao, Dahlia, and I went to get some tasty snacks that I had never had before. The drink had different types of sweet beans in it and then we ate spicy dumplings. We enjoyed each other’s company before hopping in a taxi and ending the day. My first week went by so fast. Before I knew it, Thursday was here, I had finished the family templates, went over a little with Ms. Hong the plan for the weeks we have left together and prepared for my visits that would officially start at the end of the week. I made sure that I knew each family story by heart and was prepared to ask the survey questions that the teams had agreed upon. Each family is so different, so I am hoping that we are able to find ways to create a sustainable plan for them and other families affected by Agent Orange.

Strong and Stubborn Sunita speaks out against Chhaupadi

6:19 am 4 Comments

Directions: Walk straight, past three houses and a small snack shop. Descend into the valley, where people farm rice. Be careful! Rice is grown in a mixture of mud and water and there are no paths between the different rice fields or across the valley. Instead, you must balance on the thin slices of mud that divide the rice fields, careful not to fall to either side and into the watery, muddy mixture. This is easier said than done if you are tall with proportionately large feet, like me. Nevertheless, don’t fret! You will make it, even if your shoes don’t. Check out my video here.

A Rice Field in Gutu, Surkhet.

Right in the middle of these rice fields, you will find a small but well stocked hut selling beauty and hair products. The owner is a friendly and ferocious young woman, dressed from head to toe in pink, named Sunita.

Sunita is 23 years old and has been married since she was 18. She has one small child and spends most of her time running her shop. She also spends a lot of time with her family, who live just a few minutes away. She tempts us in with an eclectic collection of hair accessories (because really, who doesn’t want to make sure that their hair looks good when they are soaking wet and covered in mud?) and tells us all about life, love and laughter in the village.

Sunita shows us her beauty products.

It doesn’t take long for us to start chatting about menstruation. Sunita believes that Chhaupadi is a harmful and dangerous practice created by man. She refuses to stay in Chhau Goth, and instead remains in her home when she is menstruating. Unlike other girls in the community, she doesn’t believe that menstrual blood is impure: instead she sees the process as a natural and healthy one. In fact, she tells us that: “I think menstruation should be celebrated. It is a sign that a girl has become a woman, and that she is fertile. It represents a new stage of her life in which she can have her own family. How can this be perceived as wrong? It is a blessing!”

I am impressed by her resolute tone. Her view is certainly not one shared by many members of her community, and yet she is adamant that she is right. I ask her about the reaction of her family and friends to her distinct point of view. She tells me that “Of course, many people tried to convince me to stay in the Chhau Goth. They tell me that the gods will get angry if I stay inside… but nothing has happened to me so far. I hope that other people will also stop practicing Chhaupadi in the future.”

Nevertheless, Sunita continues to follow certain rules when she is menstruating. She doesn’t go into the kitchen or cook any food. She also doesn’t drink water from the same water source as her family. Not like she can purchase automatic rice cookers from Kitchen Home, but she has to make do with what she has. She brings it from another water source, further away. She also doesn’t go to temple or pray for the seven days when she is menstruating each month. I ask her why she does this, and she tells me it’s just to please others. “I don’t want to upset anyone any further, so it’s easier to abide by these rules. They aren’t so difficult to follow – unlike staying in the Chhau Goth, which is very dangerous.”

This is, of course, natural. In a community where family is so important, she has to retain good relations with the people around her. In fact, it is traditional for Nepali women to move in with their husband’s families when they are married. These women must respect and obey the rules of their mothers- in- law. It’s almost impossible to expect someone to go against these rules.

After a delicious milk tea, I decide to ask Sunita about what she thinks of the law against Chhaupadi. She is critical of its success: “I think the law is a great idea, but it’s not enough. The government should educate families, and there should be an awareness programme about Chhaupadi. I think we need to educate family members, as well as the girls, because a girl can’t change a tradition by herself.”

Sunita’s story shows that it is possible for young women to break free from the tradition of Chhaupadi – but it is hard. People believe that Chhaupadi is the only way in which to protect communities from the impure menstruating woman. Many times, they are critical of a woman who does not stay in the Chhau Goth. It takes a strong and independent woman such as Sunita to break free from this tradition, to stand her ground and to stay at home during her period.

A traditional home in Gutu, Sukhet

Latrine Norms, Weight Distribution, and Rebar

July 13, 2019 1:56 pm 4 Comments

The norms for the construction and management of rural latrines are as follows and coincide with the construction plans of The Advocacy Project, GDPU, and our construction engineer, Kinyera David. These basic guidelines are designed for latrines for use by 50 people per day. This extrapolates to our 4-stance latrine model, thus allowing for a user rate of 200 people per day.

Latrines should be hygienic, free from bad smells, inaccessible to flies and other insects, and should not contaminate ground water

The presence of a sanitary latrine should promote good hygiene behavior.
Latrines should ensure safe disposal of excreta.
They should provide the minimum requirement of safety and privacy to the users, with the superstructure providing the minimum amount of privacy required, especially for the female students (separate changing room for female students is accounted for in the AP model).
A bin for hygienic disposal of sanitary materials must be provided in every chamber in the latrine.
Hand washing facilities must be provided beside each latrine in every rural latrine.
In unstable soil condition, the pit must be lined with locally available materials like bricks, stones etc.

The completion of the brick and mortar substructure is displayed in the accompanying pictures, and the crucial difference between the failed government latrine that collapsed into a sinkhole and the AP model is the installation of reinforcement bars (rebar) within the substructure to support the weight of the latrine superstructure. The cement structure of the failed government latrine lacked this supporting rebar.

David explaining the importance of rebar.

Cement is basically water, sand, and aggregate that congeals to form a solid mass. Rebar allows for the concrete to congeal around an inner steel structure, and with the triangular shape of David’s rebar formation, the concrete is strengthened at multiple impact points as the concrete takes shape around the three individual rebar poles and the triangular wire formations that serves to bind the rebar. With no rebar, the concrete is more vulnerable to weight stress and will succumb to applied weight and crack and create a sinkhole, as happened in the government’s previous attempt at latrine construction.

David has six separate triangular rebar structures that will redistribute the upper weight of the stances, walls, roof, brick, and mortar at six separate points of the substructure. This is latrine construction engineering at its finest, hats off to David. It follows the agreed upon norms of supporting bricks in rural latrine construction and will prove superior to past government latrine construction effort. The ultimate goal is the adoption of the AP construction model and its associated budget by the Gulu District Director of Education, Treasurer, with approval by the Gulu District Ministry of Health and Safety. We are off to an impressive start with the Abaka latrine project and await the next phase, the installation of a cement slab to cover and seal the latrine pit, which is expected to commence this Friday. Once Saturday rolls around, David and his crew of seven will begin above ground construction of walls and stances, culminating in the final phase of the walkway and ramp construction in a month’s time, give or take a day or two.

Patrick and I discussing the latrine pit specifications.

So far, we remain on schedule, with an anticipated mid-August completion date of the 14th. Cost overruns have come in the form of extra cement bags, two extra loads of brick and mortar, and 10 days extended use of the sub-pump to relieve the latrine pit of ground and rainwater. With any construction project, it is wise to expect a 5% to 10% budget overrun due to factors such as unusable or busted cement bags, unreliable vendors, underestimation of materials needed, and uncontrollable adverse weather conditions.

Despite the small setbacks, we are confident that the AP latrine model and accompanying budget will prove to be superior to present day contractual bids submitted to the local government. The Gulu District’s previous latrine project amounted to contractor costs in the excess of $12,000 USD, with AP budget estimates for latrine construction amounting to less than $6000 USD, with overruns accounted for in the AP calculation. The work of AP and GDPU will prove to be an efficient and effective model for latrine construction at half the cost and serve as the leading choice for future school latrine construction proposals considered by the Gulu District Board of Education.

Children and Peace

12:39 pm 5 Comments

So far, in my brief time working with the Children Peace Initiative Kenya, I have become personally inspired by the methodology of utilizing children to resolve ethnic strife. From Kambi Garba to Gotu to Bendera, I have seen strong friendships be made where previous (and present) conflict-lines have been drawn. However, does my anecdotal understanding of this program and the apparent successes really present a powerful argument in its favor? What kind of leverage do children hold in these dynamic and long-standing conflicts?

The parent of a beneficiary explains how the interaction of his son and another boy brought him economic opportunities.

As I reflect, I can think of several arguments that could be presented against the methodology of utilizing children to build peace. Firstly, the children are usually the victims and not the perpetrators of violent raids. So, can children truly be a mechanism for change despite their lack of agency in violent events? Next, children are often held in a subservient position to adults within traditional hierarchies. This begs the question; how can they establish change if they have very little apparent political power? Another possible criticism is that the children hold very little economic power, as they do not own the assets that require access to natural resources. How can children influence the underlying economic dynamics of pastoral land, if they in fact do not own the cattle/goats/camels that need that land? Lastly, there is a long-standing tradition of cattle raiding within the customary legal institutions, so what can children actually do to change these norms with centuries (if not more) of historical precedence?

In response to these criticisms, we must first address the last assertion of cattle raiding being well-founded within historical precedence. While, at face value, this assertion is correct, it neglects important contextual components that differentiate recent raids from past raids. Marginalization of northern ethnicities, founded during colonialism, continues to this day. The current political blocs, founded largely by landed agriculturalist elites, have continued political paradigms that provide services, infrastructure, and political voice to specific ethnic constituents. This marginalization has led to the intensification of conflict between marginalized groups over limited resources. Furthermore, ecological strain, the introduction of advanced weaponry, and the erosion of customary legal institutions by rogue warriors (who act upon ethnic lines, but who do not respect traditional communal raiding practices) influenced by an opaque black market for cattle distinguish the present-day conflict from historical practices.

Heritage and the future are juxtaposed in one speech within Peace Camp.

Given the above mentioned contextual differences, what can children with no economic leverage actually do to influence the peace and reconciliation process? Simply put, children are the future. They will inherit the herds of cattle/camels/goats and will be responsible for managing resources. By establishing cooperative relationships with bordering communities, resource management will change from a winner-take-all ethnic paradigm to a mutually beneficial form of interaction.

This argument is substantiated by recent events in Samburu, where Pokot tribesmen (from Baringo) migrated their herds to Samburu after severe drought in the Baringo area. This migration and use of land in Samburu happened peacefully unlike years prior and was facilitated by the years of work conducted by CPI in the area.

The final two responses are inherently interconnected and are key to understanding the Children Peace Initiative methodology. While children hold very little sway within the traditional age-based hierarchies and are usually not perpetrators of violent raids, they possess subtle influence on their familial networks and could become future perpetrators or accomplices of such raids. Accordingly, children are both a medium for peace and the results of peace. Children may advocate for their friends in another community or bring them to their families and villages. Unlike adults, “children are not threatening,” as asserted by CPI Kenya’s Director Hilary Bukuno, permitting even the most ethnocentric community members to let down their guard. Children are also, according to Mr. Bukuno, “blank slates” and do not carry the prejudices and pains of their forefathers. CPI Deputy Director Monica Kinyua adds, “children have a short memory for bad things and a long memory for good things.” With this in mind, friendship and fun between childhood friends may serve to build future relations between adults.

Two young men of different ethnicities, who could have been enemies, are easy friends when brought together in a forum that supports their friendship.

By understanding the initiative through this lens, we can see how the simple act of giving a gift or bringing a friend home for a cup of tea can facilitate systematic change. Interactions between children and entire communities can act to mitigate the effects of political disempowerment, economic marginalization, and ecological crisis. Children can not only build peace but sustain it for generations to come.

Immediate friends

July 12, 2019 9:14 am 5 Comments

As we get older, making new friends can be hard. We become fixed in our ways, we think we know who we are and who is worth our time, and we actively try to avoid the pain of our past. Children are different. Like raindrops rolling down an umbrella, bad experiences are easily forgotten in the expectation of fun and friendship.

The Zivik-CPI Kenya Peace Program in Baragoi takes advantage of the capacity of children to ignore the bad in favor of the good. This was highlighted during the 2019 Peace Camp at Bendera Primary School, located in a village that is only a short drive from the town of Baragoi. The Peace Camp brought together 250 children of two different ethnicities and opposite sides of a two-decade conflict. The children of the Turkana communities of Natiti, Nachola, and Lenkima were brought together with Samburu children of the communities of Bendera, Simiti, and Ngilai.

Prior to meeting, Children Peace Initiative Kenya surveyed the upcoming beneficiaries to better understand the children’s perspective on ethnic stereotypes and openness to friendship. The responses to the survey were sometimes startling. One girl cried as she recalled that her father had been killed by a member of the Turkana community. Another boy claimed that Samburu only like to kill. In summary, the majority of respondents expressed feelings of fear, anxiety, and anger when asked to reflect on the other ethnic group.

Linda Lokorio (on the left in blue) and Sanapai Lolenik (on the right in green) were instant friends

Despite the results of this survey, the Peace Camp proved that children can easily forget such feelings and bigotry when in a fun environment. Within hours of encountering each other, Linda Lokorio, a 12-year-old Turkana girl from Natiti Primary School, and Sanapai Lolenik, a 13-year-old Samburu girl from Bendera Primary School, could be seen walking and giggling together. The teachers and staff stood in awe. Without a single planned activity, friendship had found a way.

Upon arrival to the Peace Camp, the segregation of the children was easily visible. Masses of yellow and green, blue and pink, and red and orange were gathered together and moved like amoebas. The multi-color uniforms were like those of competing 18^th century soldiers and made identifying your “group/clique” almost intuitive. However, just as dictated in the law of entropy, this order required immense energy… an energy that would be better used in the pursuit of fun.

And, just like that, Linda and Sanapai were not the only ones. The color-coordinated masses dissolved into each other within hours. The chattering of the children shifted from the two distinguishable languages of Samburu and Turkana to a collectively intelligible Swahili.

Isaya Lemarkele (in red on the left) and Petro Aurien (on the right in orange) told me that they had never known anyone from the other tribe

The following morning, the CPI Kenya staff and I went to observe and interrogate some of these blossoming friendships. The first friends that I found were Petro Aurien and Isaya Lemarkele. Petro hailed from the small Turkana village of Lenkima and the orange ribbon that signified his team (one sixteen interethnic teams for the games) hung around his neck like a tie, almost blending in with his orange school uniform. Isaya was far more talkative and outgoing. Maybe because he was coming from the host school or maybe because he didn’t want his new friend to feel pressured to speak. He explained how, as a Samburu boy he “didn’t know the Turkana”. Even more surprisingly, Isaya remarked on how he and Petro became friends within hours of arriving. This is surprising because prior to the camp, Petro had expressed strong sentiments against people of Samburu communities, influenced by peers and family members. However, the prejudice that had been ingrained into him over years of conflict and animosity melted away in mere hours.

In that morning, I had the opportunity to speak with countless friends before the morning program begun. Many of the friends had already given one another gifts. From jewelry to candy to juice, each gift represented a commitment to another person that could easily have been an enemy. Rose Ebaan, a 12-year-old Turkana girl old from Nachola, came to speak with me, her fingers laced with her new friend and a multi-color bracelet hugging her small arm. She told me that “Felistry Lolkalepi”, her new friend from Bendera, “gave this bracelet to me”.

Rose Ebaan (on the left in yellow) and Felistry Lolkalepi (in green on the right) had already exchanged gifts as a remembrance of their friendship and time in Peace Camp together.

These stories of individual friendships can easily build into a lasting peace. These children have chosen to rebuff the ethnicity-based hatred of their families, friends and communities. With their choice to see a companion in a person who has always been labeled as an enemy in their short lives, they are adding the last straw to the camels back and breaking down a system of intolerance and enmity.

If you feel inspired to support this program, please refer to the CPI Kenya GlobalGiving page dedicated to this project.

Seema and Parbati: Fearing God

July 11, 2019 2:20 am 4 Comments

Seema is 17 years old and lives with her mother, Parbati, and the rest of her family on the outskirts of Gutu, Surkhet. She is a lively young woman and is currently in Year 10 at the local school, Giwan Gyoti. Seema spends most of her time studying and helping her family out on the fields. She loves school and gossiping with her friends, as well as spending time with her family. When I meet her, she is enjoying a delicious traditional breakfast of Dal Bhat and Tarkari on the porch with her mother.

Parbati and Seema

I am apprehensive about breaching the subject of Chhaupadi, as I know many young women feel uncomfortable talking about menstruation, especially with a stranger. But Seema and her mother are very welcoming and open, immediately offering us ripe mangos and cold water to quench our thirst in the 40-degree heat. Feeling more at ease (and hydrated), I decide to find out more about Seema’s experience of Chhaupadi. First, I want to understand her perception of menstruation. She explains that it all boils down to impurity: “When you are menstruating, impure blood comes out of your body. This means that you are also impure, and you have to make sure that you aren’t going to contaminate anyone else, especially men. This is why you stay in a Chhau Goth.”

I have read about Chhau Goth’s before. A Chhau Goth is generally a hut, specifically constructed for menstruating women. These huts lack even basic protection: the doors do not lock and sometimes there are no walls. This is particularly problematic in the winter, when temperatures drop and women are left at risk of pneumonia. In the summer, women face sweltering temperatures, augmented by the lack of ventilation within the tiny space in which they must stay. Monsoon season brings new challenges, as there is no shield from the frequent rain and thunderstorms. In addition to this, women are vulnerable to wild animals, insects and snakes. All in all, a Chhau Goth is an extremely unpleasant space in which to stay every month.

I ask Seema to show me her Chhau Goth, and I must admit that I am even more shocked when I see it in reality. I can barely imagine spending even one hour in such a confined, unsanitary and unsafe space, and Seema tells me she has spent 5 days in her Chhau Goth every month since she got her first period.

The family Chhau Goth

So why exactly do women feel that they have to stay in such conditions every month? Parbati, Seema’s mother, explains that: “We don’t like practicing Chhaupadi, but we have to do it. It’s not a choice. I used to stay in inside but then I got sick. I went to the Dhami (traditional healer) and he told me that it was because I had been staying inside, and God was punishing me. So I started staying outside. I hate it, but I don’t want God to get angry with me again…. I am afraid that he will send snakes to my home. So I would rather just endure these conditions every month.”

Seema’s mother, Parbati, talks about why she follows Chhaupadi

And Seems agrees: “I don’t like it… it’s very dangerous, animals can attack you or strangers can come in. But what can I do? If I stay in the house, God will become angry and He will send snakes and tigers to attack us.”

Through their words, it becomes clear that these women do not want to practice Chhaupadi. Staying in a Chhau Goth is associated with many physical and mental risks. It is also uncomfortable and incredibly dangerous. But for them, this is a decision of God, and failing to follow Chhaupadi can lead to negative consequences. Seema and Parbati are willing to spend 5 days per month in these conditions in order to protect their families.

Listening to Seema and Parbati, the difficulty of changing a cultural practice hits me. But it also inspires me. I am left hopeful that awareness, education and time will allow them to stop this harmful practice and to stay in the safety of their homes when they are menstruating.

Never Leave Home Without…

July 10, 2019 10:18 am 4 Comments

Xin Chao (Hello) Friends,

As I was closing my suitcase before leaving for my trip, I thought that everything had been checked off the list. All except… my work visa. During the week of training I spent practically every morning trying to obtain my work visa. Then on the last day before leaving, I had to get a tourist visa because the correct paperwork had not come into the embassy so they could only grant me with a tourist visa. Once in Dong Hoi, my host organization AEPD worked tirelessly to gain my work visa. Now, after four weeks, it was Friday the 6^th of July. Ngoc (The AEPD Coordinator) and I were off to Laos; I could leave Vietnam and come back in the morning and obtain my work visa. That morning we took a 3-hour bus to the Vietnam border. The bus route was a little scary for someone like me who does not really like heights or driving up a mountain and has motion sickness on rides like this. We arrived at the border gate of Vietnam. After Ngoc talked with officials, we sat there for about 20 minutes and then got on another bus to the Laos border gate. There I got my Visa on site for a single night in Laos and then got back on the bus heading to a Laos hotel for one night.

My anxiety was reeling. I was so anxious about everything, about the visa, about staying in the random hotel in Laos, but I was with Ngoc so I felt like whatever happened we had each other. She was so prepared which made me feel good. That night we both decided to just sit in the room and while she read her books and articles on her phone, I listened to audiobooks. The next morning, we got ready for what would be THE LONGEST day for both of us. We didn’t know how we were going to get back to the Laos border gate and the official from yesterday was not answering the calls that Ngoc made so Ngoc asked, “You think we should walk?” I thought for a second and then decided why not. So, we dry our shoes with the best boot dryer and we put on shoes and our back packs and began walking. We started walking and tried to get a ride to the border gate. Laughing now while writing this blog, it’s funny that we thought someone would pick up a small Vietnamese woman and an African American woman. Well they didn’t, if you are wondering. We walked past a home that spoke Vietnamese and Ngoc began to explain what we needed.

After about 5 minutes, Ngoc got a call that the nice office at the Vietnam border gate had sent a car and it was at the hotel for us. We both looked at each other and released a huge laugh! Once in the car, Ngoc began to explain who I was, where I was from and all the details up to this moment. I felt a little bad as she had to do this often for me since everyone wanted to know who this black girl was and why she was in Vietnam. Now in the car, we rode in the back as the driver made numerous stops to drop off or pick up some material that he would then take through the border gate traveling back to Vietnam from Laos. On the way to the border gate, I turned to Ngoc and said, “There’s no way we could have walked all the way back, it would take us hours, maybe even a day to get to that border.” She chuckled and agreed. Getting through the border gate of Laos was easy compared to what we endured next. Once we got to the Vietnam border gate, we thanked the driver and I said goodbye.

We entered the building and Ngoc said that the paper we were waiting on should be delivered soon. Once we had the needed document, we went to the officers located behind the gate and gave them our passports, my tourist visa, all the documentation we have with us and they looked through all of it. The police/immigration officials left and came back then left again and then began to speak with Ngoc. After their conversation, Ngoc translated for me what had just happened. She said, “The person that has to sign off on your paperwork is not here and he is the only one that can do it.” I was in shock. I asked her, “So in this entire building, there is only ONE person that can sign off on foreigner work visas?” She responded yes, and that she did not understand this protocol either. She sat down and I could see her upset and frustrated at it all, so I tried my best not to show that I was feeling the same. It had been 4 weeks, a three-hour bus ride over here and an overnight stay in Laos just for the person that can sign my paperwork not to be here. I was in disbelief. She walked back to the officials and began to speak with them. I am not sure what was said in that conversation, but she came back and said they are going to see if they are able to sign off anyway. About 40 minutes later we were taken in the back room for me to fill out the paperwork. We both made a sigh of relief, but it wasn’t over just yet.

I had to then take my photos and get my passport stamped. One of the immigration officials took me to meet a guard. He was a short, kind of stubby man who had a beard but not like the ones most people I know have. It was just below his chin and that was it. I could already tell he didn’t speak English. The official says, “Go with him”. Now I must admit this was all a little sketchy to me (The American girl) who is used to walking the streets of Washington D.C. where trees are becoming scarce. I took the picture, and we headed back. Then as I get back, Ngoc says okay we must catch the bus. I forgot to mention earlier that there is only ONE bus there and ONE bus back and we had to make the bus back. I don’t think either one of us could have spent another night in a strange place. We ran to the bus, but as we were running, I looked at Ngoc and said, “My passport!” She said we must go and pick it up from the other gate. I was confused. I looked at her with confusion written on my face and she said don’t worry. We got on the bus and then we stopped at the other gate, anxious and waiting for the passport that would have an official stamp. Finally, we saw a man running toward us and I let out a sigh of relief. After all we had been through, it was finally over. We got back on the bus, catching our breath and trying to calm our nerves for the five plus hour trip back to Dong Hoi. Monday would be my first official day in the office.

2001 Toyota Landcruiser – On Its Last Legs

July 9, 2019 9:27 am 3 Comments

Pictured with me is Emma Ajok, our dedicated Project Officer for GDPU and faithful babysitter to the Toyota Landcruiser, circa 2001, that serves as GDPU’s means of transportation. The latrine project undertaken by GDPU and supported by AP, is well underway and has advanced beyond the substructure to include completion of work above ground, or so we hear. Problem is, our transport vehicle, which is old enough to cast a vote in the majority of nations in the world, has failed us in small measures over the past two weeks that are beginning to take a toll on our budget and patience. Attempts to monitor and evaluate the construction progress are being thwarted, and there is an uneasy, frustrating reliance on verbal reports from phone conversations between GDPU and the head teacher at Abaka Primary school and the on-site contractor. What is needed is eye-witness accounts from me and Patrick, photographs to send back to The Advocacy Project along with interviews with workers, teachers, and parents to supply proper progress reports and material for blog postings.

In the previous blog, there was a reference to engine trouble with a loose transmission he then changed at the transmission shop and much needed rear axle replacement, which proved to foreshadow another breakdown this past Friday, July 5^th. Patrick, Ivan, Walter, our driver, and I headed out from the GDPU office to the cement store, about a 2 km drive, to purchase a few bags of water-based cement for the latrine. Once loaded, we would be on our way to Abaka Primary School for an overdue evaluation. After pulling over in front of the store, the vehicle died, and it refused to restart. Walter and a roadside mechanic pulled the battery and transported it to an automotive store for repair or replacement. Here on Car Ninja you can find more information.

Emma soon arrived by Boda boda with cash in hand, and fifteen minutes later the task was completed, the new battery was installed, and we were optimistic that our journey would continue. No such luck! Upon further inspection, it was not a faulty battery but worn out spark plugs that failed to emit a spark to foster an engine start, or so it was believed.

Our plans foiled once more, we all made our way back to the GDPU office by means of Boda bodas and awaited the mechanic’s prognosis on any further damages and a hopeful restart to our journey. Our hopes were dashed later that day upon discovering a faulty fuel injector was also to blame, providing an improper fuel mixture into the combustion chamber. The correct amount of fuel must be mixed with the correct amount of air to produce controlled explosions with the combustion chamber to bring the engine to life. Yes, a vehicle can run without a fuel injector, but it will run badly and lead to misfires, wasted fuel, bad fuel efficiency, and overheating. Better to replace than blowing your engine.

The Landcruiser’s overworked engine and the mechanics.

This is where Emma’s commitment to GDPU comes to play. She spent the whole weekend at the garage ensuring a new fuel pump with new a rotor head for fuel injection, timing belt, and a spare tire were purchased for the Landcruiser. The parts had to be shipped up from Kampala, and did not arrive till over the weekend, and in fact, the repairs will not be completed until tomorrow. As this blog is being typed, Emma is confirming with the garage that the parts are in Gulu and repairs are on schedule. A job well done by our superb GDPU Project Officer.

GDPU is well overdue for a new SUV, the repairs will continue to add up and the Landcruiser will not get better with time, it is not a fine wine. You can check here about Torque Cars who are always excited and ready for working on modifying , tuning a car. We are basically working with a dying animal that needs to be put down. Today’s cars can last for 10 to 12 years, provided they are subjected to regular maintenance to include oil changes, brake checks, and yearly inspections to ensure proper performance. Here’s a quick list of habits to avoid for longer car life: “How To Kill A Car“. A 2001 Landcruiser that was purchased second hand in 2007, and is nearly 20 years old, and well past its prime.

Many thanks to Emma for dedication to her job. We would be nowhere without her.

Emma Ajok, GDPU’s Project Manager, and I.

How to Change a Cultural Practice?

1:12 am 5 Comments

Greetings from Gutu!

After having spent one week in Kathmandu adjusting to the Nepali pace of life, combatting cultural shock and immersing myself in work at CAED, it was time to embark upon yet another adventure. On Friday the 21^st of June, I set off into the field accompanied by three delightful members of staff: Indira, Ram and Krishna. We embarked upon a gruelling 18-hour bus journey to the region of Surkhet in the West of Nepal. After spending a few days in the town of sunny Surkhet recovering from the journey, we were ready for the second leg of our bumpy ride. From Surkhet we went to the village of Gutu with the purpose of studying the practice of Chhaupadi, which remains prevalent in this region.

Home in Surkhet: A Lovely Guesthouse

We stayed with a friendly family who welcomed us into their home and cooked us delicious meals every day. Their home was our base, from which we visited different families every day, conducting a survey about the practice of Chhaupadi. I was accompanied by three lovely people: Indira, an intern at CAED this summer who is studying Public Health at MMIHS in Kathmandu, acted as my translator and general buddy throughout the trip. Ram, a member of staff at the Surkhet office, used his expertise and experience to help us interview people. Our third team member was Gersha, an ‘MCC’ (Modal Couple Campaigner) in Gutu. MCCs are those people who are affiliated with CAED but are members of the local communities. They promote the values and work of CAED within these communities, and reflect the strong field presence of the organisation.

Home in Gutu!

Before we got started, I decided to find out more about what had encouraged my enthusiastic team members to join CAED. Indira was keen to elaborate upon her motivation to join, and she explained that “CAED has always worked for women and girls so I was really excited to work with them and go into the field. I am really grateful that they provided me with the opportunity to come to Surkhet and find out about the situation of Chhaupadi.”

Indira and I embarking upon the adventure!

As a student, Indira finds it important to learn about the implementation of development projects in practice. She highlighted that “learning about a problem in a classroom and observing the problem in practice is totally different. CAED has a strong field presence and finds solutions to these issues through the locals themselves.” This is something that I am also interested in learning more about. Studying in Geneva and observing development working in International Organisations and NGOs is fascinating, but I have always wanted to understand how the concepts promoted by these organisations are implemented in practice.

I then had a chat with Ram, who is from Surkhet and has worked with CAED for a number of years. He told me about his interest in women’s health issues, highlighting the value of the work that the organisation is doing in promoting women’s reproductive rights all over the country. Ram emphasised how much he adores working in the field, elaborating upon the particular role of young people in changing and challenging social norms: “I love working with young people, especially adolescents. I want to educate them from childhood because that’s how we can bring about real change. The field helps me to understand the intricacies of the actual problems that we are facing.”

Ram has a lot of experience working in the field!

I asked Ram to elaborate upon why the issue of Chhaupadi is so relevant and important in today’s society. “Chhaupadi goes against the fundamental human rights of women,” he elucidated, “It stops them from prospering and maintaining their physical health.” Ram also talked about the complexity of changing a social norm. “Chhaupadi is a dangerous tradition which has a part of many people’s lives for a long time. It is therefore incredibly hard to change people’s minds, and to end this practice.”

I decided to ask Ganesh, the local MCC, about his opinion on the issue of Chhaupadi. He insisted upon the importance of getting women out of the Chhau Goth, but suggested that certain things should not be allowed for a menstruating woman. “I think that women should not be kept in the Chhau Goth. They should stay in a separate room inside their homes, and they should not cook food or go to the temple.” His view reflects the Hindu belief that women are impure during their menstruation, and that touching food or men may contaminate them.

Ganesh reflects on his experiences with CAED

I asked both men about the law against Chhaupadi, which states that if you insist upon the practice of Chhaupadi you can face up to three months in jail or a 3000 rupee fine (about $30). Ram pointed out that the law was limited because “only making a law does not work. There must be proper implementation of it, which is not happening today.” Ganesh chipped in that “The fine should be increased and it should be implemented. There hasn’t been a single case reported and nobody has been punished, so the law has not been taken seriously. I think the the local government should work for the implementation of this law, but also that people should report the practice of Chhaupadi in their communities.”

So does is there any hope for the future? Ram concluded that: “I think Chhaupadi will be eliminated in the future. But we need to promote and implement the law, so that people stop practicing this damaging tradition.” “It will be eliminated but it needs time,” Ganesh added, “Our forefathers used to stay in a Chhau Goth for 7 days, and now its only 5 days. A new generation will bring a change in people.”

On this hopeful note, we continued our quest to find out more about the issue of Chhaupadi in Gutu.

Ram, Krishna, Ganesh and Indira (right to left) on the road!

What Does Soap Have to do with Child Marriage?

July 8, 2019 11:59 am 6 Comments

As I work with WAP to evaluate their current program and plan for the expansion of their work, one of the things we have been focusing on is the economic empowerment of WAP’s beneficiaries. Poverty is among the leading causes of child marriage in Zimbabwe, and was identified as such by many of the women and girls we have interviewed.

Poverty in these communities can lead to a myriad of issues, one being that a girl’s family can no longer pay her school fees. Not being able to attend school, a girl’s ability to learn and gain skills for her future is severely impeded. She may also become perceived as an economic burden on her family and will be married off as a solution, or she may even begin to be abused by her guardians. Another outcome is that some girls may feel life would be more comfortable with a husband, so they will choose to marry young to improve their situation.

Nominate, a mother of 6 from Eyecourt, told WAP she believes poverty is the number one cause of child marriage in her community. She described that a girl will prefer to be with her boyfriend or husband if her parents cannot provide for her.

Amidst Zimbabwe’s current economic challenges, poverty is becoming an ever-greater problem for these women and girls. In order to work towards its mission, WAP has chosen to focus on economic empowerment and income generation to lift women and girls out of poverty and prevent child marriages, abuse, and early pregnancies.

For those who might be unfamiliar with economic empowerment initiatives, here are several examples of different definitions:

UN Women: “Women’s economic empowerment includes women’s ability to participate equally in existing markets; their access to and control over productive resources, access to decent work, control over their own time, lives and bodies; and increased voice, agency and meaningful participation in economic decision-making at all levels from the household to international institutions.”

CARE defines women’s economic empowerment as “the process by which women increase their right to economic resources and power to make decisions that benefit themselves, their families and their communities. Investing in women’s economic empowerment sets a path for poverty reduction and for equality between men and women.”

Introducing: CLEAN GIRL soap products! These soaps will be crafted by hand, packaged and sold by the group of beneficiaries and their mothers.

WAP believes producing and selling liquid soap is an effective way to meet these goals. Liquid soap products such as dish, toilet and engine cleaners are in high demand in Zimbabwe, and many locally-sourced and handmade options are desirable for their lower prices. Bar soap is also useful, but the raw materials to make those types of soaps are more expensive and difficult to acquire. Making the soap will be fairly simple once the ingredients and equipment are purchased. And selling the product will be easy, as open-air vendors and community markets are quite common throughout the city. The Ambassadors and club members can utilize social media and their networks to advertise the soap and spread the word about where people can purchase it.

Vendors at Mbare Musika – Photo by Slum Dwellers International

You might be wondering – what sort of products go into this kind of soap? Is it safe to make? I had the same questions and have learned that the ingredients are fairly common and are safe as well. Several of the ingredients do contain chemicals, so anyone working with the soap will receive proper training and all will be provided adequate safety equipment.

This is where you come in! If you would like to support this program, please consider donating to the project on Global Giving (here). Importantly: if you are able to give $100 and above, you can have your gift matched up to 50% if you wait until July 18^th! (if you are unable to give $100 and above, you have the option of pooling funds with a group of people and then donating in one large sum to make the matching amount stretch farther). We aim to raise at least $5,000 over the next few months for this pilot program.

Surveying Success, Planning for Growth

June 28, 2019 12:51 pm 6 Comments

The Ambassadors Against Child Marriage program was conceived in 2018 by Women Advocacy Project and the Advocacy Project Peace Fellow at the time, Alex Kotowski. The goals of the program are to utilize the power of young women to mentor other more vulnerable girls and explain the risks of early marriage to their families and communities. It is the hope that the ripple effect of education and empowerment can spread beyond a group into a community, and eventually beyond into an entire society.

Since the program’s inception, four girls were selected and received rigorous training, and have been carrying out their duties and responsibilities since December 2018. All four have been leading their weekly club meetings based on the “Give Us Books Not Husbands” curriculum, and holding open counseling sessions for girls at risk of getting married. The clubs are safe spaces for the Ambassador and her peers to have open discussions about the issues facing girls and to provide information that can help keep girls healthy and out of marriage. A key responsibility for the Ambassador is also to hold an open line of communication with WAP to raise an alert immediately if a girl is identified as being in danger of forced marriage or experiencing abuse. Club membership ranges between 25 and 45, for a total of about 135 girls.

Trish addresses her club in Epworth
The Chitungwiza club members share signs addressing what they have learned

Since coming to Harare, I have been lucky enough to spend some time with these amazing young women, and to learn a bit more about how they have been impacted by the WAP program. Not only have all of the Ambassadors learned about the issues causing child marriage and how they can help their communities face these challenges, but they also report having a better understanding of Zimbabwean/human rights law, sexual and reproductive health, youth activism, free and affordable health referrals, leadership and peer mentorship. It is truly amazing to see the confidence and expertise that has arisen in these four young women. And their views of the future have also been impacted. Crammed into the backseat of WAP’s pickup truck, bumping along potholed streets to different site visits, I surveyed each Ambassador. One of the questions I asked was for the girls to describe how being a part of this program has changed her life and her prospects for the future:

Trish (Ambassador for Epworth): In the future, I will know everything about this particular issue and how it relates to my own life. In my life, I want to equip young girls with these skills and I am also interested in business.

Evelyn (Ambassador for Chitungwiza): This has motivated me to do something in my life for myself and for my future apart from being married. Marriage isn’t the only option for me. This will also help me be a good parent. One of the things causing child marriage is irresponsible parents, so I want to be a strong mother.

Yeukai (Ambassador for Mbare): I have a desire to work towards changing culture and traditions around marriage. I hope to write a book about marriage, and how girls were prevented from childhood marriage culturally.

Ashley (Ambassador for Waterfalls): My life has been changed by this program, and I have learned how to better stand up for myself.

Map showing communities where WAP Ambassadors are currently active

Since this program began and since these clubs have started, WAP has not had a single report of any girls getting married, getting pregnant or being involved in illicit activities. With the four Ambassadors working in the communities and the club members being empowered through this education, it is no wonder the program has seen such success. And as WAP looks towards the future of its programming, two more Ambassadors will be selected this year to expand the work into other communities. You can read more about the Ambassadors program here.

In addition to this extensive education and empowerment work, WAP will seek to expand into income-generating and economic-empowerment programming this year. Through the month of July, I will be raising funds for a pilot liquid soapmaking program through Global Giving – please keep an eye out for that campaign when it becomes active!

Latrine Construction is Underway

June 27, 2019 9:44 am 3 Comments

As scheduled, Patrick and I, along with Ocheung Ivan, the intern, and Walter our driver, ventured back to Palaro Sub County to check on the progress of the latrine pit. In just two days after the planning meeting, the parents had managed to make more than a meter’’s depth before striking the water line and had paused there to discuss the next course of action.

We arrived late in the afternoon due to morning repairs to our left rear axle on our company Landcruiser which had been subjected to multiple trips to Palaro on a less than desirable roadway. Due to the bumpy, pothole, and rut filled uneven road with ditches for shoulders, we pulled over twice to tighten the battery in place as it was coming lose due to the steady bouncing over the Mars-like terrain. A roadside motorcycle shop had the proper spanning wrench to tighten down the battery, and we continued to Abaka Primary School after two short delays.

Discussing the waterline and further digging

After surveying the water-logged latrine pit that the parents broke ground on that morning, Patrick explained that the progress was good for a mere half day’s time and that the water would be easily drained from the pit by the next day. Seems the ground slopes from west to east and water drains toward to this end of the school, and the encounter with the waterline was to be expected.

To ensure a proper understanding between all parties involved on the construction and management of the latrine, a small meeting between Patrick of GDPU, the head teacher, the school manager, the contractor, and myself was conducted to go over the MOU (Memorandum of Understanding).

The MOU is a basic contractual agreement between the contractor, the school, and GDPU, with me serving as a witness for The Advocacy Project. Dating the 26^th of June through the expected completion date of August 14^th, David Kinyera will construct a four stance, drainable latrine with a girl’s changing room, as requested in the previous meeting. A 1.5-meter-wide, 40-meter-long walkway will allow for easy access for those students using a wheelchair for mobility. Handrails, ramps, and a hand washing water tank at the appropriate height for wheelchair users will satisfy the specifications desired by the school, the parents, GDPU, and AP.

One of the crucial parts of the MOU is laying the responsibility of the water supply, daily monitoring of construction, and security of materials on Abaka school itself. They will also be responsible for conducting awareness workshops with parents, teachers, and the PTA to improve attitudes toward the inclusion of children with disabilities and a steady stream of support and monitoring to ensure their inclusion in the school and hopefully the community at large.

Lastly, there was an emphasis on open, honest, and frequent communication between the contractor, the school, and GDPU to avoid misunderstandings. Transparency and clarity were called upon to resolve any disputes on construction, materials, costs, or material handling, that would include the GDPU board, the contractor, and a senior staff member of the Abaka Primary School. All parties involved desire this project to proceed successfully without delay and within the given timeframe, and if the cooperation and communication is carried from the initial meeting through all stages of construction, The Abaka Primary School Latrine Project will be a success.

The Way to Gotu

June 26, 2019 9:24 am 7 Comments

The shrubs and stones raced past my view from the back of the Land Cruiser. I bounced violently on the hard metal bench as the vehicle sprinted over the barely visible roadway cutting through the north Kenyan bush. My view was limited to an opening in the canvas covering that wrapped the truck bed.

We were in the twilight hours, trying to get to a remote village before nightfall. Of course, we wouldn’t make it in time. The children of the Turkana village were to be carried to Gotu, the destination of the Holiday Peace Exchange. To further complicate the situation, in order to get to Gotu, we had, at best, two hours of off-road driving through a nature conservancy (populated by lions and hyenas). To me, finding our way to Gotu with a load of children seemed close to impossible.

Our original arrival to Daaba, before trekking to Isiolo to gather supplies.

We arrived to Daaba at close to 8:30pm. The night had already enveloped the surrounding landscape, giving us all a clear view of the stars – even the faintest ones. I opened the canvas covering to a hoard of children at the edge of their patience (having anticipated leaving the village over four hours prior). They had already packed the other land cruiser that we had left behind before leaving for Isiolo to gather supplies. After a quick debate on the prudence of the journey through the conservation park at night, our convoy of two left Daaba laden with bags and a cumulative 50 children.

Our late arrival to Daaba was due to multiple factors, from being unable to gather enough supplies for our original arrival in Gotu to mechanical issues as we returned to Daaba. Regardless, a drive through the bush at night is a disorienting experience and requires the most professional of drivers. Luckily, Francis Bundi Mriti certainly fits that description.

Our fearless driver Francis and his steed of steel.

The first half hour of our journey was apparently successful, as Francis could easily recognize key landmarks along the way. Meanwhile, I sat in awe of his ability to navigate through the disorienting maze of identical trees, tire marks, and wadis (dried seasonal stream beds). To my untrained eyes, the constant barrage of dust and darkness prevented my ability to identify anything that surrounded me.

Our luck soon changed. A small miscalculation here or a wrong turn there left us completely unaware of how to return to Gotu. Depending upon our general knowledge of Gotu being west of us, we persevered, blindly, into the abyss.

Soon, an hour passed, and we were no surer of our location than before. The children were surprisingly optimistic. Their lively bickering and laughing contrasted with our sense of anxiety. How long could we continue searching for our way in the bush before we ran out of fuel? Some of the children had not eaten for most of the day, how long would they remain their jolly selves before hunger and frustration entered their minds?

Two hours passed. Having to take a short-call as well as debate about the direction of our journey, we stopped by a fork in the road (the term road should be interpreted as loosely as possible under these circumstances). As I walked to a bush, fearing the children may see me relieving myself I looked back to the other car in our convoy. Mwalimu Francis Loruwan, dangled from the passenger seat of the car, seemingly unmoved by modesty, and conducting his short-call from there. I felt that this was strange but continued with my brief stop behind a bush and returned to the car. Upon my return to the vehicle Francis, our driver, was laughing hysterically. He explained that the Mwalimu was afraid of lions and did not want to set one foot outside of the car. While Francis chuckled as we returned to our voyage, I suddenly became aware of the gravity of our situation… from then on I would hold it in.

The omnipresence of dust as we made our original voyage to Daaba.

Another hour passed. No land mark or mark in the dusty roadway looked any different. Where were we? Where would we stay the night? Why are these kids so unphased by this? No sooner had these thoughts entered my mind then did I hear a sigh of relief from Francis (our driver). By luck or instinct, we had happened upon the roadway leading to Gotu. The village was only an hour away and the way was clear.

We arrived late at night to plates of rice, cabbage, and goat meat. The next day we would start early and would need our strength.

Love and Clouds

7:59 am 5 Comments

How do we define romantic love (the love of those who we partner)? In the “west”, where market dynamics and individualism prioritize agency, we look for those feeling familiar to our culture of consumerism such as desire and immediate longing.

In my interview of Mwalimu (Teacher/Professor) Fatuma Dida, I learned of how love is contextual and cannot entirely be based upon personal agency and choice, but also happen stance. She celebrates her love, despite it not being of her choosing. Her husband of over 20 years chose her, went to her parents and requested her hand in marriage. She was married almost a week afterwards.

Mwalimu Fatuma Dida stands in front of the school that she calls home.

The life of Mwalimu Fatuma Dida has so far been a mix of tragedy and celebration. Married in her early twenties to a man she barely knew, she became a teacher at the school where my organization (Children Peace Initiative Kenya) established this past week’s peace exchange. The exchange occurred between two communities: Aremiet and Kambi Garba. Aremeit is predominately Christian, Turkana, rural, and economically homogeneous. Kambi Garba, the peri-urban village bordering the town of Isiolo, is predominately Muslim, Borana, and economically heterogeneous (with devastating poverty juxtaposed to lower-middle class wealth). The difficulties and triumphs of the peace exchange require far more depth than this piece will allow, but the five days I spent in Kambi Garba taught me much of how to integrate communities and build a lasting peace.

The conflict between these two communities between 2010 and 2014 was intense and largely caused by severe ecological events. Drought forced two bordering communities into conflict over land and resources. Surprisingly, these communities never had a history of conflict. Intermarriage, trade, and shared land use was common among the bordering villages. However, the late 2000s were accompanied by severe droughts. The unprecedented droughts left cattle and goats dead as water scarcity plagued the region. By 2010, cattle raiding became a regular event, and casualties were escorted by livestock theft.

Mwalimu Fatuma Dida was personally affected by these events. Her step-brother was killed in a raid that cost her 86 heads of cattle (an enormous sum in any country). Despite her loss, she has persevered. The love of her six – and soon to be 7 – children, as well as that of her husband, has been a firm pillar in her life. In fact, when I asked her about these losses during the conflict between the communities, she responded with a paraphrased quote from the Quran, “wealth is like a cloud, it comes, and it passes”. However, unlike wealth, the love we build, like a house, can withstand whatever weather may come.

Family is a house. CPI staff stand with Mwalimu Fatima Dida and her two children.

So, as we explore individualism and identity in the “west”, evangelizing the world on what it means to be individually free, maybe we should think about the houses we are building. Maybe, by imposing our norms, whether it pertain to love, politics, or economics, we may be forgetting the importance of context. Love may be more than a feeling, it may encompass an array of responsibilities that keep individuals persevering and communities strong.

The Abaka Community Springs into Action

June 25, 2019 9:35 am 3 Comments

This is a school and community that GDPU and the Advocacy Project were destined to support, for I have never seen a group so motivated and ready to work; ready for action. The speed and quickness in which we went from the introduction and planning stages to putting scythes and spades to the ground was head spinning and left me astounded.

It did not start out so quick and promising, as the planned 10 o’clock meeting did not get underway until a little after twelve, as it seems that in Uganda, people don’t ‘keep time’ as Americans do; in fact, their punctuality is not a bragging point. But that is part of the culture, and something one has to accept if one is to work and succeed in Uganda. As we waited patiently by our truck, Patrick and I discussed how in America if you are late you are supposed to feel ashamed. In fact, during my time in the service, we lived by the phrase ‘if you are not early you are late’.

Once the community and school leaders arrived, numbering 20 people, excluding Patrick and I, we gathered in a circle beneath an olam tree and took advantage of the shade to begin our discussion. There was an introduction, where each attendee gave their name and position, whether a town leader, member of the Executive Committee, teacher, member of the PTA, GDPU, AP, or simply a concerned parent. Everyone was welcomed for attending by the Head Teacher, Joseph, and a short prayer was recited as we bowed our heads.

Meeting with Abaka leaders and parents under the olam tree

Then one of the most effective meetings I have ever attended took place. Patrick Ojok, the leader of GDPU, explained the latrine model for Abaka and what they, and The Advocacy Project, were offering in a clear, concise manner. One latrine, with four stances, two for boys, two for girls, with the engineer, David, on hand to go over any specifications and answer any questions. The inclusion of wheelchair ramps and stability bars for disabled children was emphasized and the question of designation of the latrine as a girl’s or boy’s facility was left for the group to decide. Dimensions of the latrine pit were discussed, and the demands of the parents were also brought to light. One thing, the main thing, that invigorated the parents was the fact that GDPU and AP were coming to them for suggestions and consultation. The District of Gulu only sent materials and a construction crew to the school to build a latrine of its specifications, without any consultation or discussion with the parents.

It took a matter half an hour for selected speakers to voice their opinions. One suggested that the latrine include a separate ‘changing room’ for girls and an incinerator to burn toiletries and waste products as to not clog the drain. With the incinerator issue being shot-down by Patrick, as it was not in the budget, the final three speakers suggested that we forego the meeting and get to work. The planning was over, it was time for action. They were fed up with the District of Gulu constructing a faulty latrine (reference The Abaka Latrine: The First Steps) that was deemed inoperable by the District Engineer soon after completion.

Without hesitation the group walked about 30 meters from the meeting spot and took to scythes and spades to begin clearing out an agreed upon suitable spot. Within a matter of minutes, David had measured off a latrine area by stakes and rope, and the new latrine had its intended place on the grounds of Abaka Primary School. The speed, determination, and decisiveness of the Executive Committee, PTA, and townspeople was astounding. With the leadership of the Executive Committee, the commitment of the PTA, and everyone’s absolute dedication to inclusivity, this project will no doubt be a success.

David, the Gulu District Engineer, measuring out the location of the new latrine

It all comes down to inclusivity, which implies ownership of the latrine project by the parents and the school for the ensured safety and health of their children. GDPU and AP approached the parents and the school for ideas and suggestions, and asked for involvement, which was the exact opposite methodology of the District of Gulu. The District of Gulu forced a faulty, useless latrine upon a school that was in dire need of proper facilities. As Patrick said a week ago when I first arrived, motivating the parents was the hard part, but based on what I witnessed in a few short hours, it was a smashing success. By the time David and I return on Wednesday, there will be a 3-meter deep, 2.5 meters wide, and 5.5 meters long pit dug to completion. This is teamwork, and this is what The Advocacy Project is all about. A job well done in one short afternoon meeting.

Dark Streets, Bright Minds

June 21, 2019 2:22 pm 10 Comments

Mhoroi from Harare! After a 35+ hour journey last week, I made it to the airport to find my hosts waiting patiently for me. Watching from an observation deck in the arrivals area, they saw me go back and forth in customs until I finally made it through, and shook their heads good-naturedly at me when I set some of my valuables down on the ground to grab my suitcase off the conveyor belt (I’ll blame the jetlag for that mistake!). After a quick journey back to their home through the darkened streets of the city, I rested and began to settle in to begin my work for the summer.

**Meeting with Constance and Dickson in their office for the first time**

I will be working with Constance Mugari and Dickson Mnyaci and their organization Women Advocacy Project (WAP) which seeks to promote and protect the rights of vulnerable and marginalized women and girls in Zimbabwean communities and to prevent the practice of child marriage. WAP carries out its mission by holding advocacy campaigns on women’s human rights, providing training and leadership capacity-building workshops and facilitating economic empowerment for disadvantaged and marginalized women and girls in Zimbabwe. The three of us will be working together this summer to raise awareness about WAP’s programs, strengthen its activities, and build plans for the future of the organization. One of the projects I will be working on is WAP’s Ambassador program, in which young women in several communities of Harare lead regular club meetings to support young girls in their community and provide education and support. I was lucky enough to meet two of the Ambassadors during my first few days in town.

Two of WAP’s Ambassadors – Eveylene and Trish

Earlier this week I sat down with Constance and Dickson in their office to discuss their motivation behind this work, and to understand why it is so important not only to them, but to girls all over this country and the world. The WAP directors explained several Shona cultural practices that impact young women and girls in Zimbabwe, including the practice of kumutsa mapfihwa. Through this practice, when a young woman dies, her parents marry her sister to the husband. Despite the prevalence of sexually transmitted diseases between married couples and regardless of the age of the husband, the girl’s parents send her there to replace her sister because the husband paid the full amount of the bride price. Another practice is kuripa Ngozi, in which a family marries a young girl off in order to pay off a debt of some kind. A father may have made promises that he failed to pay back or he may have had problems with another family; in order to acquit himself of the problems and the challenge he has created for himself he offers his daughter in marriage. The girl is used as a way of repaying whatever wrong has been done without her consent or even without her knowledge. Through honoring cultural practices such as these, child marriage has been promoted in these Zimbabwean communities. These are some of the issues that motivated the creation of WAP in 2012.

I have already learned a great deal since arriving last week, and one of the most important things I have learned is that Constance and Dickson are two incredibly driven and motivated people – their passion for the work they do is inspiring, as are their ideas for the future. I am excited to move forward with them this summer and to help make their vision and passion a reality. In the coming months you can check back here on the blog and follow The Advocacy Project on social media to keep up to date on how our work is progressing this summer and to learn more WAP’s programs.

The Abaka Latrine: First Steps

12:16 pm 5 Comments

On Wednesday, June 19^th, Patrick Ojok of Gulu Disabled Persons Union (GDPU) and I, representing The Advocacy Project, made our first visit to Abaka Primary School to assess the conditions of the latrine and stances constructed by the local government. After meeting with the District Officer of Education earlier in the week, we were led to believe that a workable, drainable latrine was constructed in accordance with the Ugandan Health and Safety Guidelines. To our dismay the latrine was not up to par and was actually condemned by the District Engineer. As you can see from the photo below, there is a sinkhole present on the east side making it unacceptable for use by children. Seems that there was shoddy sub-construction on the structure, with no support rings built into the latrine. This allowed for the weight of the top of structure, bricks, cement, and all to bear down on the latrine, and thus a sinkhole was created. As with any project anywhere, there are setbacks and uplifts to be encountered and one must take them all with a ‘grain of salt’.

Abaka School teachers look on to the school’s sinking latrine.

The contractor hired by GDPU, David, agreed after examining the sinkhole and structural integrity that condemnation of the latrine was the correct call by the District Engineer. The Director of Education will be approached with this matter for analyzation, so that the next steps can be determined. GDPU and The Advocacy Project, with me serving as consultant, will recommend dismantling or sealing off of the latrine to ensure children do not injure themselves. In accordance with Ugandan Health and Safety Guidelines, there cannot be a condemned latrine within proximity of a functional latrine, which makes logical sense.

Joseph, the Head Teacher, in agreement with Patrick and I, have called a meeting on Monday the 24^th with the parents of Abaka Primary School to discuss the proper location of a new latrine, whether it will be a boys or girls latrine, and the distance and orientation of the walkway from the school to the latrine. There were sixty-four parents in attendance at the last meeting conducted by Joseph, and we expect a similar turnout. If we all are in accordance with the construction guidelines, the work of digging the initial sinkhole will begin on that Wednesday with a goal of completion on Friday.

This initial obstacle gives GDPU and The Advocacy Project the opportunity to demonstrate the workability and sustainability of our combined model for proper latrine construction in accordance with guidelines set by Ugandan Health and Services. As of one year ago, the attendance at the Abaka Primary School has dropped from 405 students to 286, a loss of 29% of the student body. Most have transferred to other schools or simply remain at home for lack of proper latrines for their use. Our ultimate goal with constructing workable, drainable latrines is to bring student enrollment back up to previous levels, if not more. The Advocacy Project and GDPU are here for the kids, their education, and their future.

Me, posing with the latrine condemned by Gulu’s District Engineer

The Otim Family of Gulu

June 17, 2019 9:56 am 4 Comments

Below is the Otim Family of Gulu, Uganda, who reside in a village across the road from St. Mary’s Hospital Lacor.

The matriarch, Grace Otim, sits to my far right, and is holding the apple of her eye, her grandson Andrew, who is mostly deaf and mute and has limited use of his legs and arms. He smiles with a heartwarming grin and very big eyes when you say “Andrew, Andrew” to him, as Lucy was doing before this picture was taken.

Lucy is Grace’s niece and the young lady to my left, who is my neighbor, literally lives in a hut next to mine about 10 steps away. She is my hired cook, guide, and mentor to everything Ugandan. We were on the way to the local market to buy vegetables, meat, tea, cooking oil, and the favored okra, of which is the heart of the story. We stopped by to visit Grace and her father, Mr. Mariana Lucky, who is 97 years young. Mariana is like many old men the world over who enjoys sitting on his porch drinking tea and sharing the time with his family and his new friend, me. I was greeted with a warm smile, a handshake, and a hearty ‘Welcome’ for visiting. Seems most Ugandans enjoy a proper greeting and a smile when we meet and are very, very open and hospitable.

Grace, a spring chicken at 68 years young, or so she thinks (she is not certain of her actual age), is an expert on cooking okra. Those of us from Louisiana know that gumbo is not gumbo without okra. Seems Uganda grows okra by the tons as well as Kenya, but Kenya exports and Uganda does not. We chatted on how to cook okra, its wonderful taste and how it adds to a meal, no matter what meal, if you cook it slow at low heat in proper oils. I love her!!!

We met Lucy’s sister, a brother, and many family friends on our walk to the main road to catch a boda boda ride to the Gulu Market. Like I said, it is a village of Otims. One young man, Godfrey, came by to visit Lucy that same morning and we ran into him on the way back from the market. Lucy considers him a brother, a friend, and someone who will come to her aide in the middle of the night no matter what.

On a sad note, Grace Otim’s father was murdered by Idi Amin during the conflict between Uganda and Tanzania, which left her as an orphan in her teen years. She was a midwife for many years and is now not working so that she can care for her father and Andrew. She was extremely polite and welcoming to me and sat me down and just started telling me everything she could about herself and her family and I even had the honor of signing my name to her guest book. I felt honored to meet the Otim family and I am lucky to have Lucy as my neighbor.

Note: Lawrence, the lone guy in the above picture, is Lucy’s uncle and was happy to take the first picture and have his picture taken as well.

Dust, Dreams and a Dreadfully Long Flight

June 15, 2019 9:41 am 5 Comments

Namaste! Welcome to my first blog, written as I drink my third coffee of the morning on the balcony of my new home in Kathmandu, Nepal. As I overlook the bustling and boisterous roads of the city, I realise how much I have learnt in my few days here. I arrived on Wednesday after a dreadfully long journey from Washington D.C. with a mission: to work as a Peace Fellow for The Advocacy Project and the Centre for Agro-Ecology and Development (CAED) for the next 10 weeks this summer.

The Advocacy Project is an NGO which aims to give a voice to the voiceless and to assist marginalised communities in taking action to protect their rights. This is done by partnering with community-based organisations, such as CAED, and supporting them in numerous ways. We have been trained extensively on how to use our skills and knowledge in order to strengthen the organisation by telling their story, developing their programmes, assisting in fundraising efforts and promoting their work on the international scale. This year, I am the only Fellow based in Nepal: others have gone to Uganda, Zimbabwe, Kenya and Vietnam. After an extensive week of training and preparation, we have been sent out to our respective locations, ready to put our skills and knowledge into action!

CAED is an NGO working to create more just and equitable societies in remote and disadvantaged areas of Nepal. It uses human rights principles, policies and norms in order to further its cause on issues including food sovereignty, the empowerment of women and girls, sexual and reproductive health and rights, child rights and indigenous identity and education. During my Fellowship, I shall be focusing on the particularly damaging practice of menstrual banishment (Chhaupadi), which remains extremely prevalent in Western Nepal.

The CAED office in Kathmandu.

So what exactly is Chhaupadi?

Chhaupadi is the practice of prohibiting Hindu girls and women from participating in normal family activities while menstruating. They are banned from the house and are forced to live in a chhau goth (cowshed or hut) during this time because they are deemed ‘impure.’ Most of these are comprised of one small room, with a door but no windows. They do not have sanitation facilities, such as toilets, running water or proper light or ventilation. They also do not provide adequate protection from the elements, a grave problem during monsoon season. And not only do women lack safety, nutritious food and oftentimes water, but they also face other risks: attack by wild animals and snakes, theft of their belongings and rape. Chhaupadi is illegal and was outlawed in 2006 by the Supreme court of Nepal. Nevertheless, it continues to take place, and it is estimated that 58% of women in Western Nepal still practice this tradition.

CAED has implemented a community-level programme to prevent the perpetuation of gender-based discrimination among current and future generations. In this programme, they encourage young people to abandon harmful practices, such as that of Chhaupadi. During my Fellowship, I shall be contributing to their work which promotes the end of this harmful practice in numerous ways. My tasks shall include profiling the girls and publishing their stories (check out my Flickr account here!), developing social media and marketing strategies through which to encourage the end of the practice and assisting with fundraising for the organisation – but more of that to come!

Indira, Kalyani and Renu (left to right) are three of the lovely ladies working for the CAED office in Kathmandu.

I am very excited to get started on all of these projects and to bring a meaningful contribution to CAED. I hope to use my competencies to help end this dangerous practice, and I am sure that this will be a positive and fruitful experience. In the meantime, I shall concentrate on getting accustomed to Nepali life – which includes learning to navigate streets with no names in a city where google maps ‘doesn’t really work,’ eating vast quantities of Momo and Dal-bhat-tarkari and visiting the glorious temples of this dusty, but dreamy city.

A decorative plant-pot outside the office!

The Glorious View Ahead

June 13, 2019 6:18 am 5 Comments

(Xin Chao) Hello, From Dong Hoi, Vietnam! Welcome to my blogging corner of the Advocacy Project website.

My name is Mia Coward, a current Graduate student at the University of Maryland, obtaining my master’s in Public Policy with focuses on education policy, social policy, and non-profit management. This summer I am please to work with the Association of Empowerment for Persons with Disabilities (AEPD). I am very excited about the work I that will be doing here to help create a prosperous and sustainable plan for both AP and AEPD. I am happy to report that I made it to Dong Hoi on June 10^th. It is beautiful here, and although there is much going on around me with motor bikes and honking horns, and the fast paced hustle and bustle, there is still a sense of calmness and focus here. Everyone seems enriched with a sense of family and culture. My initial encounter with the team at AEPD occurred on the very first night after I arrived in Dong Hoi, but before I talk about that, I think it would help to start from the beginning.

I began my journey on a late Saturday evening leaving from the Dulles, Virginia Airport in the United States. Nervous and excited, I took my backpack and checked my bag. After nearly 30 hours of traveling, I made it to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. The Ho Chi Minh City airport is one of the largest airports that I have ever seen. My luggage was lost for a moment when transferring, but since I was about 7 hours early for my next flight, I waited in the airport trying to coordinate with the local Vietnamese attendants to find it. Thankfully, it was not long before I was able to track my luggage down and head off to the next flight. After arriving in Dong Hoi, I got off the plane and ride with the AEPD driver to the office where I meet the team.

Everyone was so friendly and showed real excitement that I was there. On my first night, I stayed with Ms. Nguyen Thi Phuong Hao (AEPD program manager) and her family. Her house is a beautiful two-story Egyptian blue color with a big garden surrounding the property. While I waited for what the next day would bring, Ms. Hao and I connected over our both being dog-owners and the exhaustion that flights can bring. While I continue waiting for my work visa, I’m able to soak up the essence of Dong Hoi and hit the ground running by conducting research to help AEPD and hopefully more families.

As a Peace Fellow, I serve as the liaison between the Advocacy Project and AEPD working on the Agent Orange Campaign. AEPD manages a broad range of programs such as self-help groups for landmine survivors, a youth development program that trains persons with disabilities in mechanics and other vocational programs, projects for women with disabilities, microfinance endeavors, and, lastly, the AP-AEPD Agent Orange Campaign. The Campaign has successfully funded about 11 Agent Orange-affected families. You can read more about their stories here.

I am excited and grateful to help this Campaign progress. I look forward to sharing my successes, goals, and experiences with you. Check back here weekly to see more of the work that AEPD and I will accomplish. Thank you for joining me on this journey.

***The glorious view from the bridge on the way to a beach near the Sunrise Hotel in Dong Hoi, Vietnam***

If you would like to see more of the work that AP and AEPD have done, click here to view the Campaign Page.

A Disoriented Arrival to My New Home

June 11, 2019 4:07 am 5 Comments

I left East Africa over two years ago. Ever since then, I have dreamt of returning to a region of the world that both fascinates me and feels like home. The Advocacy Project has offered me the opportunity to return and assist peace projects throughout the northwest of Kenya. Now, after two grueling days of travel on bus and plane, I have arrived in Rongai, my new home for the next three months.

Sleep deprived and excited to have arrived, I moved through immigration and customs control like a ghost. Luckily, I was able to contact my partner organization, Children Peace Initiative Kenya (CPI), through the Wi-Fi signal of the quaint Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. Unfortunately, having arrived earlier than expected, and at an hour when traffic from the airport harkens to the gridlocked highways of Los Angeles, we had to coordinate a taxi driver to take me to petrol station where I would be picked up by Hilary and Purity.

En route to the petrol station, our taxi was halted by a presidential motorcade of nearly 40 government vehicles. In my sleep deprived state, I fumbled with my bag to find a phone to record this unexpected welcome to Kenya. However, my reactions were slow and just as quickly as the motorcade arrived, it had disappeared. At this moment I realized that this country is full of unexpected events and promised myself that for the remainder of my time Kenya I will be ready to record these happenings.

Magadi Road in the morning. Upon my arrival to the country, we briefly stopped by the office, and as we did, I saw the traffic open up.

Meeting Hilary and Purity of CPI was like meeting old friends. They felt familiar and their kindness quickly made me feel at home. As we drove to the house of Mr. Ndolo, my host for the summer and a close acquaintance of CPI staff, we spoke of the work ahead. The Advocacy Project’s training over the previous week had prepared me for this workload. However, despite this training, the long history of conflict in the region of Kenya where we will be working keeps me humble.

The Children Peace Initiative has an important and ambitious mission of “building bridges among children and families of neighboring communities by creating opportunities and capacities for them to engage in peace processes.” Complicated politics, resource scarcity, and tradition make conflicts between communities dynamic and contextual. Additionally, no effort to mitigate and prevent future conflicts can be successful without addressing the scars of the past. With a team that recognizes these complexities, CPI has already built a network of projects that focus upon the youth as the source of sustainable change, trade, and shared resources as a way to build a shared prosperity, as well as interchanges between former warriors and elders in an effort to heal old wounds.

With this in mind, and a track record of notable successes in their projects, CPI now seeks to expand their efforts to surrounding counties and communities. Later this week we will travel to Isiolo to work on the Peace Exchange project between children of the Turkana and Borana peoples (for some context, please read Abdullahi Abdille’s piece for the International Crisis Group and Vivian Jebet’s piece for the Daily Nation).

Credit to the Delegation of the European Union to Kenya: Isiolo County

With my feet placed firmly on the ground, I am beginning my fellowship at a full sprint. There is so much to do and so much to truly appreciate. This is not only an opportunity to support an organization that is making a meaningful impact, but an opportunity for me to learn and appreciate a wider spectrum of humanity. Nonetheless, I will first try and catch up on some sleep.

How to Become a Naike

October 24, 2018 12:54 am Leave a Comment

During the dry season, when the brick factory is in full flow, Nabaraj supervises the section of workers producing bricks. For 10 bricks produced, one brick is for him. (Bhaktapur/Lara Cerosky)

As a child, Nabaraj wanted to become a driver. Today he is a naike. Every spring he is hunting for possible brick labourers to work for his factory once the brick production season starts, from October-November to March-April. Swet Bhairab is one of the largest, and most secured brick factories of Bhaktapur Valley. About 300.000.000 bricks are produced in one season, by more than 1000 labourers who mostly live within the factory located in the village of Phaidhoka.

The role of a middleman

“Naike” is the Nepali word that designates the kind of middleman that is managing the relation to the brick factory workers and their working conditions. The labour within the kilns would be a single chaos if there were not a few naikes that supervise the work forces. For every production stage there is a different naike in charge of the labourers, that ensures the quality and rapidity of the work. From the very beginning with mixing mud, until the end with carrying dry bricks to a storage area, there are as much naikes as the brick production process has steps.

Piling bricks while making sure they are evenly spaced, in order to make them dry faster, is a task that falls to women and children. (Bhaktapur/Lara Cerosky)

A naike has many responsibilities in a brick factory. As such, he is not only supervising the workers during the brick season, but also in charge of recruiting labour forces for every new brick season start. From April to June, naikes are traveling to villages from Ramechhap district, to seek for single workers or whole families to come to work to the factory in Phaidhoka. Once Nabaraj receives the yearly recruitment amount of 25 lakh (1 lakh is 1 hundred thousand rupees, or around $1.000) to be shared between possible recruits, he takes one of his foldable electric bikes and goes to Ramechhap. It is a two hours drive to the villages where he can usually quickly convince possible labourers to work for him. It is not difficult for him to persuade villagers who are mostly living in poor conditions and who get completely dazzled by the rupees that Nabaraj is providing to those that promise to be future labourers, as an advance of the season’s first salary. The temptation of immediate consume these rupees are generating, attract many people that are dreaming big, have children to feed, or simply have debts to reimburse. Usually Nabaraj is lending about 1 to 3 lakh to a worker in return for a working promise in the kilns for the upcoming season. To ensure these possible workers will really show up at the factory, Nabaraj is collecting their citizenship card along with a contract on which the worker signed with his fingerprint – the villagers being most of the time illiterate, even though illiteracy dramatically decreases with the new generation of young adults. However, this precaution is not an ultimate protection for the naike and Nabaraj already experienced a few times the embarrassing situation of losing millions of rupees entrusted by the brick factory owner. It is not uncommon that some recruits disappear with the money and never show up again.

Every brick factory has its own acronym that is affixed on all the bricks produced in the kilns. (Bhaktapur/Lara Cerosky)

Security is controlling all vehicles and visitors coming in and going out of one of the largest brick factories of the region, Swet Bhairab Factory in Phaidhoka. (Bhaktapur/Lara Cerosky)

A career in the kilns

Nabaraj and his wife Ganga Maya have also been recruited by a naike 20 years ago when they were living in the village of Koahla in Ramechhap. Instead of the hundreds of thousands provided today, he was attracted with a few thousand rupees, that he reimbursed within a period of two months. For 3 years, they travelled to the kilns for every season start. They eventually decided to stay in Bhaktapur to enable their children to go to the same school during a full academic year. Both were simple workers for years, and after 12 years of hard work, Nabaraj was finally promoted to a naike. To achieve this status, the most important is trust. According to him, the brick factory owner needs to trust the possible naike since years and only the combination between seniority in the factory, hard work and reliability increases a worker’s chance to be chosen by the brick factory owner. It is all about trust insisted Nabaraj.

Nabaraj is one of the 5 naikes supervising the workers in Swet Bhairab Factory. He is in charge of the brick making stage, the most important step in the whole brick production process. (Bhaktapur/Lara Cerosky)

Most of the brick factories are running 6 months of the year, from October to March, when the dry season begins. Swet Bhairab Factory is one of the few that have a machine producing bricks during the rainy season, therefore the brick factory is open all year round. (Bhaktapur/Lara Cerosky)

The difference between a simple worker and a middleman is striking. Entire families work for as much as 16 hours a day, for a salary of one rupee and a half for every brick produced (17 rupees is the fixed rate for a brick at the very end of the production process). Nabraj proudly explained that his wife and him can afford not to work anymore, because from 10 bricks produced by the factory’s workers, one brick goes to him, free of charge. And exactly here lies the problem. The equation is simple: the more bricks are produced by workers, the more money the naike is receiving. A couple needs in average one month and a half to produce 90.000 bricks, earning about 1 lakh, resulting in free 10.000 rupees for the middleman. Nabaraj said that when parents are making two of their children to work, they only need one month to finish the 90.000 bricks. This becomes particularly tricky when is calculated the considerable financial benefits a naike is having from letting children work with their parents.

Brick labourers mostly live within the factory, in own houses that they are building at the beginning of every new brick season. (Bhaktapur/Lara Cerosky)

Not without the naikes

Naikes are not only crucial for the smooth running of the brick factories, they are also key actors in the fight against child labour. Because they are the decision-makers during the recruitment process, they have the power to ensure that either only adults are hired, or if families with children get employed for the upcoming season, they can ensure that parents understand and agree that it is forbidden for them to make their children to work with them in the kilns. Because the middlemen are also in touch with families on a daily basis, they know what binds the family to the factory, what are the reasons behind making their children to work, or if there are any debts to reimburse to a third party. Because naikes are monitoring the parents and children, they know the working schedules of children, their tasks, their difficulties at school and in the kilns. Because they are the first ones who will be informed in cases of migration, of school dropout, of any difficulties the family is facing, their collaboration in programs aimed at rescuing children from brick factories is necessary. Through their knowledge of the ground and their relationship to the families, their help in assessing the main challenges or successes of a program such as the 50 Children Program is of great importance.

Naikes live with their families within the factory, as do most of the labourers. Even though their housing seems precarious, they live in luxury compared to simple brick factory workers. (Bhaktapur/Lara Cerosky)

However, since the naike lives from the family’s brick production, either he understands that child labour is against the law and that it has to be banned completely and definitively from brick factories, or he must be given incentives for him to support families not to make their children work anymore at all. Given the high rate of children who are working in factories, middlemen can not be the only ones controlling the kilns to ensure a child labour free factory. This situation can only occur if brick factory owners and naikes, along with schools and organisation, work together hand in hand to eradicate child labour in the brick production sector. A naike is such a precious asset that his role needs to be integrated programs aimed at fighting child labour in brick factories. Without the middlemen, breaking the circle of child labour within the kilns seems to be very very challenging.

Once bricks are completely dry, they get burned and lose their typical mud-grey color for a strong and luminous rust-colored aspect. (Bhaktapur/Lara Cerosky)

#7: Ms. Duong Thi Hue and family

October 17, 2018 6:22 am Leave a Comment

Ms. Duong Thi Hue’s family is the Agent Orange Campaign’s seventh beneficiary! Her family received a cow and calf in 2017.

I’d like to preface this post by saying this visit was the most emotionally challenging for me. Ms.Hue is comfortable and has consented to sharing her story and life updates, but even so I’ve hesitated to write this because it contains sensitive information about her family and their history with gender-based violence (especially as it relates to Agent Orange exposure).

Ms. Duong Thi Hue and her granddaughter.

Mr. Vinh (AEPD driver) parked the car outside her gate. We weaved through her front yard, minding the tarps covered in drying grain, toward her home. Quietly, we shuffled into a room with a bed, tables, chairs, and an aquarium with a bamboo plant shooting over the glass walls. The fish in the aquarium are not pets. They are Ms. Hue’s plan B on days the family does not have enough to eat or wants to supplement their meal.

Ms. Hue is strength personified. The wrinkles on her face and her swollen hands concede her life’s challenges. She has had six children, five of which fell victim to dioxin poisoning from the war. An elderly widow, she’s the sole caregiver and provider of three of her Agent Orange-affected children and one grandchild*.

Her daughters, Duong Thanh Binh (29 years old) and Duong Thi Hong Thanh (27 years old), live in padlocked structures behind her home. They developed mental disabilities and began exhibiting violent fits of rage when they turned 14 years old. At which point, Ms. Hue became incredibly scared of her daughters. Left with no recourse to help them and keep everyone safe (including neighbors), Ms. Hue was forced to lock them in separate rooms in 2013. She explains that she gives them medicine with their breakfast in the morning by slipping it into the rice. When they realize there is hidden medicine “they throw the food and break the bowls”.

There is no alternative to this. She would greatly prefer that her daughters live freely but in the times they’ve convinced her to release them, they’ve acted violently–going so far as to pull out a knife and threaten Mr. Thuan (AEPD Outreach Worker).

I struggle with this: I try to walk the fine line of observant learner of cultures and behaviors but sometimes feel the urge to ask unanswerable questions. Is it ethical for her daughters to live contained for the rest of (at least) Ms. Hue’s life? What about their human dignity? Can Ms. Hue’s and her daughters’ suffering be addressed? By whom? How?

There is no question that Ms. Hue deeply loves and cares for her daughters. There is also no question that she wouldn’t do anything to help them. And yet, I’m left confounded and irked at my privilege. A privilege that allows me to sit here and philosophize about her life. The harsh truth is that Ms. Hue does not have any other option. Morally, these questions should still be asked. Practically, they do nothing to help her.

Ms. Hue’s granddaughter

Ms. Hue speaks in hushed tones. Her ten-year-old granddaughter is sitting on the floor below the doorframe playing with an empty plastic chair. She asks her to adjust the fan in the other room before sharing the following:

Binh became pregnant with her when she was 19 years old. Ms. Hue implies that her granddaughter was born from the sexual assault. Her granddaughter attends school and is quite astute. Despite her best efforts, Ms. Hue is unable to raise her. She applied to the SOS orphanage village in the province but was rejected. The village administration is worried that she will begin exhibiting the same behaviors as her mother in a few years and cannot bear the liability and/or safety risk she may become.

Ms. Hue is desperately looking for somewhere safe to send her granddaughter.

A long conversation ensues between Ms. Hue and Mr. Thuan. Her granddaughter returns to sit in the same spot. He promises to support her in finding a suitable and safe place for her granddaughter. Ms. Hue continues to speak in whispers.

Through the door, I see that her son Duong Viet Thanh (24 years old) has returned from feeding the cow and calf in the fields. An uncanny sort of tension stirs in the room. Thanh has recently been released from prison. Ms. Hue fears he has become more violent now than when he was first imprisoned. She suspects that his violent outbursts are the result of Agent Orange exposure and wishes he had been exposed to rehabilitation rather than corrections.

Thanh walks into the home and through the doorframe where Ms. Hue’s granddaughter is sitting. He greets us and asks her to move over, when she does not, he assertively moves the plastic chair out of the way with his foot. Thanh retrieves something from the room and walks to the front yard. We’ve all fallen silent.

Quietly, Ms. Hue explains that her home is not safe for her granddaughter now that he is out of prison. There are moments when he gets very upset and lashes out. Like other caregivers we work with, Ms. Hue understands that these violent outbursts are symptoms of the exposure but that there is nothing that can be done to help him. Mr. Thuan reiterates his pledge to help her granddaughter and respectfully asks why she does not ask him to leave. She explains that she has come to rely on him for help with the cow and calf in the fields. Ultimately, however, Ms. Hue loves her son and wants him with her. She candidly admits, though, that she is worried about what his reaction would be.

Ms. Hue and Mr. Thuan speak at length. Due to the sensitive nature of the conversation, Ngoc forgoes translating until there are more appropriate pauses in their conversation.

I notice the scab across Ms. Hue’s cheek and ask Ngoc if she is also a victim of his violence. Ngoc was unsure but based on context and the stories she had been telling Mr. Thuan (many of which were lost in translation), said it could be possible. And again, I silently thought to myself: What policies, institutions, support systems are available to Ms. Hue and her granddaughter beyond an orphanage and the Campaign? How will her granddaughter’s mental health be impacted by her current reality? What about Ms. Hue’s mental health? Is there any way to support Thanh and prevent the violence?

Nonetheless, Ms. Hue’s most pressing concern is her children’s wellbeing after she passes away. Of all the other beneficiaries whom we work with to foster sustainable incomes and eventually savings, Ms. Hue is (to me) the most financially savvy. She is the only one that is currently actively saving money for the future and has explicitly mentioned saving now as a priority. The other beneficiaries we work with are still cultivating their sustainable income-generating-mechanisms that will allow them to save in the future (but don’t always quantify when that future is).

She proudly tells us she has saved 45M VND.

She sold the cow in early 2018 for 7M VND and the original calf just had a baby in mid-August. Ms. Hue decided to sell the cow because she was worried about string of cow disease that was plaguing the commune and felt more comfortable caring for a calf. She was also featured on a TV program earlier this year and received 38M VND from supporters. Having a good handle on her income generation and finances, she decided to save 100 percent of the charitable money and income from the cow sales to support her children’s future.

Ms. Hue’s life has been ravaged by the effects of Agent Orange. I sympathize deeply with her plight and admire her resilience.

***

AEPD is supporting Ms. Hue in looking for an alternative and safe place for her granddaughter and methods to deal with the violence.

*Name omitted

#3: Mr. Le Thanh Duc and family

October 10, 2018 1:08 am Leave a Comment

Mr. Le Thanh Duc’s family is the Agent Orange Campaign’s third beneficiary! Mr. Le Thanh Duc and Ms. Ho Thi Hong care for their daughters Le Thi Phuong (35 years old), Le Thi No (32 years old), and Le Thi Lanh (30 years old). Phuong, No, and Lanh are three of their six children to be affected by Mr. Duc’s Agent Orange exposure during the war. All three women began exhibiting degeneration and neuropathic disorders after their 10th birthday and became paralyzed; they suffer intellectual disabilities in addition to their physical disabilities.

Mr. Le Thanh Duc sits with his daughter, Le Thi No (32 years old). No shares this bed with her sister, Le Thi Phuong (35 years old, not pictured).

Phuong is the first person to see us as we park the car in front of their home. Mr. Duc welcomes us inside and we sit on a mat in their common space. Phuong and No’s and Lanh’s rooms open toward the common space.

Ms. Hong is not at home during our visit. Mr. Duc candidly describes her mental health decline after the death of their youngest son in 2014. At the time of our visit, she had been in the Hue hospital for nine days tending to her mental health. Mr. Duc mentioned that she “ends up in the hospital every few months, about 2-3 times per year” and that her niece accompanies her during those times.

Despite her absence, Mr. Duc’s positivity and charisma fill up the room. It is no wonder that he and his family were selected to appear on a charity television program advocating for disability rights. (Of which, he says pointing to the TV, he was gifted his TV from by a company in Ho Chi Minh City that was deeply moved by his family’s story.)

Le Thi Lanh (30 years old) lays on her bed overlooking the common space. Mr. Duc explains that she understands things well and is even able to use a smart phone to select videos she wants to watch. Lanh flashes a sheepish smile and puts her head down.

While she Ms. Hong is away Mr. Duc is responsible for everything and seems to have a very small (if nonexistent) support system–he seems to prefer it this way. He is proud to tell me that his youngest daughter has gotten married and is now a teacher on Phu Quoc Island and his only surviving son has become a policeman in the commune. Phuong, No, and Lanh are doing well. While chuckling and looking over at Lanh (who had been engaged in the conversation), Mr. Duc remarks that she is able to use the smart phone and look up videos she is interested in watching. Lanh flashes a sheepish smile and puts her head down.

Mr. Le Thanh Duc walks us to his new chicken coop and feeds his chickens. He was able to improve this area using the income from the pig sales.

Since the Formosa environmental disaster in 2016, Mr. Duc has been raising chickens and pigs to supplement his income. He sold all of the pigs in 2017 for 15M VND (~$650 USD). There was a rampant pig disease at the time and he wanted to get out ahead of it. Mr. Duc used the profit to invest in his chicken-raising business model and relaunch his fish sauce business in early 2018.

The government facilitated an environmental clean-up and has since declared the water in Quang Binh clean and clear of pollutants. Interestingly enough, Mr. Duc had started to plan to open a grocery store but did not have enough capital to get the business off the ground. Once he learned the ocean was clean again, he leveraged the capital from the pig sales and existing knowledge to pick up where he left his fish sauce business in 2016.

The blue barrel is where Mr. Duc makes his fish sauce. The barrel is full of fish sauce and he hopes to sell it this fall. He would like to expand this business and hopes to qualify for a loan from the AEPD-Zebunet micro-credit program to do so.

Mr. Duc explains that it takes nine months to make fish sauce and he anticipates being able to generate 5-6M VND per year from it. If he were able to produce more sauce, he would be able to generate a greater profit. Unfortunately, however, he does not have any additional capital to invest at this moment.

As Mr. Duc was recounting and sharing his experiences, Mr. Thuan (Outreach Worker) mentioned the credit program AEPD currently implements with the support of Zebunet, a French nonprofit organization. Mr. Thuan believes Mr. Duc could qualify for a 10M VND loan and offered to connect him to the program and/or Zebunet to scale the business and thus, improve his annual income. Currently, the family makes 15M VND per year (which includes the 500,000 VND per month generated by chicken sales) and it is just enough for food and their expenses.

But a bigger question and worry remains for Mr. Duc: “What will happen to my children in the event of my passing?” Like other Campaign beneficiaries, Mr. Duc is thinking toward the future and wondering how best to set up a contingency plan in case of an emergency. And that is truly the big and very real question that haunts these caregivers.

Le Thi Phuong (35 years old) is Mr. Duc’s oldest daughter. She shares a bed with No and is constantly peeking out of the window. She was the first to greet us when we arrived at Mr. Duc’s home.

The best he can do is save enough money such that his daughters can live at the only home for persons with disabilities in Quang Binh after his passing. In the meantime, though, the best we can do for/with them is to support his sustainable endeavors, provide guidance, and advocate for “contingency plans” and holistic institutional support.

Mr. Duc is prepared to do it and we are confident in and inspired by his abilities. It is a true pleasure to work with Mr. Duc’s family.

Girls’ Education in Zimbabwe

October 8, 2018 3:00 pm 1 Comment

Sixteen-year-old Rose loves reading. When the Woman Advocacy Project (WAP) met her last June in Chitungwiza, Zimbabwe, she was in the middle of a novel from her favorite series, The Hardy Boys. Rose dropped out of school last year because her family was unable to afford her school fees, which amount to roughly $150 per term, including transport. “When I stopped going to school I was so pained. I was so affected because I’m good at school,” Rose told WAP. Now she spends her time reading novels. “Sometimes, I visit my friends who are still in school and ask them what they are learning.”

As a new school term begins this month in Harare, I find myself thinking about Rose and the many girls like her whom WAP interviewed—girls who left school prematurely because they could not afford to continue their educations.

Zimbabwe once boasted one of Africa’s strongest educational systems, but years of economic stagnation have led to a steady decline in the country’s schools and universities, which suffer from overcrowding and a critical shortage of teachers. Many teachers have joined the third of Zimbabweans who have left the country in order to seek out work that earns them higher salaries abroad.

According to the United Nations Girls Education Initiative, the cost of education relative to average household income is extremely high in Zimbabwe. Over the past two decades, dropout rates—particularly for girls—have steadily increased. Zimbabwe’s educational system includes seven grades of primary school and six upper levels (called Forms) of secondary school. Girls and boys are equally likely to complete primary school, but by the time they reach secondary education, the number of girls in attendance relative to boys drops by half. Poor girls in rural areas are particularly likely to leave school, since daughters can bring income into their families through lobola (bride price) if they marry.

Globally, girls with little or no education are three times more likely to marry by the age of eighteenthan girls who reach secondary school. WAP’s research suggests that dropping out of school is both a cause and a consequence of child marriage. When a girl leaves school, she becomes more vulnerable to marriage: this vulnerability can be caused by factors such as family pressure or the fact that being out of school supports the perception that she is of marriageable age. On the other side of the equation, marriage and pregnancy almost always end a girl’s education permanently. In this scenario, a girl’s education can be curtailed because her husband does not permit her to go to school, because she lacks the funds to support her education financially, or because she is needed to stay home to care for children and the household.

For my final post, I’d like to share a small selection of the stories of women and girls who spoke to WAP about their experiences in school, the value of Preschool Program for Toddlers, and their hopes and ambitions for the future.

Dorcas

Seventeen-year-old Dorcas was one of the first young women I met after arriving in Harare. She burst into tears when I asked if she was in school. Dorcas completed her Ordinary Level but could not afford to sit the final exam. She now owes the school over $1,000 in overdue fees.

Her favorite subject in school was Food and Nutrition; she had hoped to become a journalist after graduation.

Neneris

Nineteen-year-old Neneris left school last year after her family became unable to pay her fees. They still owe the school $150. “I was in Form 4; I would like to go back to school,”Neneris told WAP. Her favorite subjects were Commerce and Math; she had hoped to one-day become a bank teller. “It would have been a good job,” she explained. Zimbabwe’s unemployment rate is currently over 85%. Like many of the women with whom WAP works, Nenerisis unemployed. She now spends her time learning to plait hair.

Penelope

Fifteen-year-old Penelope left school last year, when she was in Grade 7, because her family was unable to afford her school fees. “Now I just sit. I want to go back to school,” she told WAP.

Anashe

Fifteen-year-old Anashe dropped out of school in June of 2018—a week before this photograph was taken—because her family was unable to pay her fees. “My favorite subject was Science and I had hoped to become a doctor when I graduated,” Anashe told WAP.

Spiwe

Seventeen-year-old Spiwe told WAP that she left school after finishing Grade 7 because her family could no longer afford to pay her school fees. Spiwe now lives with her grandmother, who is having trouble supporting her. “I want to go back to school,” she told WAP. “Now I do nothing. I’m feeling so much pain seeing young people my age going to school.”

Rejoice

Sixteen-year-old Rejoice dropped out of school during Form 2. “My mother and father divorced. My father is now in South Africa and my mother can’t pay the fees on her own.” Rejoice’s favorite subject was Commerce and she had hoped one day to become a nurse.

She now spends her time at home with her brothers and sisters; her mother buys and sells goods in the market. Rejoice has five siblings and none of them are currently in school.

Anodiwa

WAP met eighteen-year-old Anodiwa in Harare’s Mbare suburb. She left school when she was sixteen after discovering she was pregnant.“My favorite classes were History and English. I had wanted to be a human rights personal injury lawyer,” she said. Like so many Zimbabweans, Anodiwacannot find work. She is currently living with her mother and looking for an employment opportunity so that she can save money for her children’s education.

Plaxedes

Eighteen-year-old Plaxedes left school two years ago after she became pregnant. Plaxedes married earlier this year. For many women around the world, marriage means a permanent end to their education. Plaxedes says that she would like to go back to school, but that her husband will not allow it. “He would worry that I would go with someone else if I went back to school,” Plaxedes told WAP.

Chihedza

Twenty-eight-year-old Chihedza lives in Hopley with her husband and three daughters. Although Chihedza’s husband owns a vegetable stall in the market, they are having trouble raising the necessary $30 each month to pay for their two eldest children’s school fees.

Chihedza says she loved school but had to leave in Form 3 after her father died. “My wish for my children is for them to go to school,” Chihedza told WAP. “My wish for myself is to one day return to school and complete my Ordinary Level.”

Joy

Joy married at age fifteen after her father died. She and her husband live in Hopley with their one-year old son. Now eighteen, Joy misses school. She recalls that her favorite subjects were math and science. “I had hoped to be a medical doctor, I wanted to help people” she told WAP. “If I’m given an opportunity to go back to school, I know I would do better than all the others. I know I am smart.”

Fadzai

Fifteen-year-old Fadzai left school in Form 2 after her father died and her mother left Zimbabwe to work in South Africa. Fadzai now liveswith her grandmother and they support themselves by selling Freeze-its (frozen popsicles) in the market. Fadzai’s favorite subject was science and she had once hoped to become a doctor. “What is most difficult for me is the issue of my education,” she told WAP. “I want to go back to school like the other children, when I see them going too school I feel such pain.”

Elizabeth

Fifteen-year-old Elizabeth is currently in Form 2, but says her family is having trouble paying her school fees. When she grows up she hopes to become a flight attendant.

Auyanerudo

Nineteen-year-old Auyanerudo completed her Ordinary Level exam last year but has not been able to collect the results because she owes the school $450 in overdue fees. Auyanerudo’s favorite subjects were History and Shona [Zimbabwe’s primary language]. She hopes to attend university one day. She now spends her time taking care of her niece while her sister sells secondhand clothes in the market.

Anokosha

Seventeen-year-old Anokosha left school in 2016 after her father passed away and her mother became unable to pay her school fees. Anokosha had hoped to become a teacher one day. “I loved school,” she told WAP. “I delighted in Maths.” Now she spends her time caring for her grandmother, who is unwell.

Judith

Fifteen-year-old Judith dropped out of school last April, when she was in Form 3, because her family could not afford her fees. Judith’s favorite subject was Accounts.“Now I am doing nothing, I am just around reading books at home. I’ve been reading exercise books from school,” she told WAP.

Names and identifying details in this story have been changed.

#8: Mr. Phan That and family

October 3, 2018 4:31 am Leave a Comment

Mr. Phan That’s family is the Agent Orange Campaign’s eighth beneficiary! Their family was the first of three beneficiaries to officially implement their business plan in 2018.

Ms. Que, Pham Thi Linh (daughter), and Pham Van Linh (son) pose for a portrait.

We visited Mr. That’s family on an exceptionally hot Wednesday afternoon. We spoke with Ms. Hoang Thi Que (his wife) while he was out working in the fields and feeding the cow and calf. Mr. Thuan (Outreach Worker) seemed a little surprised that Mr. That was not available but we all understood that their livelihood will and should take precedence over a visit.

Unlike other visits, however, this one felt rushed and almost foreboding. Perhaps, it was the result of the unrelenting heat and the sum of our fatigue, or learning about the difficult situations they are confronted with, or it was, more plainly, a meeting between persons who are still building a rapport (see Jacob’s post for his initial interactions with the That family), or all of these things combined, or none.

This is not to say though, that the meeting went badly or Ms. Que wasn’t the epitome of a kind host because she most certainly was. She went out of her way to set up a table and chairs so that we could all sit and chat but throughout the conversation, even within her patient answers and explanations, I could feel a subtle hint of distress and mild irritation in her voice.

Pham Van Linh (32 years old) sits nearby and listens in on our conversation. He flashes a big smile in our direction every so often. Ms. Que explains that he is friendly with and curious about new visitors. (Pham Thi Linh, his sister, does not like visitors and remains inside the house for most of our visit.) Ms. Que and Mr. Thuan believe that they will gradually become used to “outsiders” in time (like many of our other beneficiaries’ children).

Ms. Que and Mr. That face great challenges (now and in the future): they are aging persons with disabilities responsible for caring for their adult children that have been severely affected by Agent Orange. Pham Thi Linh (38 years old) and Pham Van Linh (32 years old) are their daughter and son, respectively, that have dioxin-related mental disabilities so severe they depend on their parents entirely. Although both Thi Linh and Van Linh are in good health, they cannot support the family in any capacity. Ms. Que and Mr. That depend on neighbors and their other daughter, Luyen, for any additional support.

Coupled with this, Ms. Que shares, is her husband’s declining health condition. Mr. That had severe problems with his lungs a few months prior and went to Dong Hoi’s provincial hospital for a consultation. Two months ago the problems worsened and he almost passed away. The doctors have advised him to seek help in Hanoi but the family cannot bear additional economic burdens at this time.

Ms. Que is worried for her husband’s health and for her household. They had to get a loan of 40M VND (approximately $1,700 USD) from the local Women’s Union to pay for his treatment and are now in significant debt. Depending on market value, the couple plans to sell the cow or calf to repay the loan in part.

In addition to this, the family had to hire someone to help them harvest rice this year. This was an expense they had not anticipated as they are usually able to work the fields themselves. The rice they farm is strictly for consumption and the harvest lasts all year.

The rice pictured in the bags are harvested from the family’s rice field; it is used strictly for their consumption and lasts them all year. Ms. Que is proud to show us this year’s harvest perched on their front porch.

Nonetheless, Ms. Que is still hopeful and proud to show us the large bags of rice they have collected in 2018. She reminds us that in addition to the cow or calf sale, the family still raises fish for income and that it is going well with the help of the cow’s manure as fish food. Despite the adversity they face, the That family has developed a sustainable cycle of income generation and consumption that they are comfortable and confident with. We look forward to strengthening our relationship with them and supporting them for years to come.

#6: Ms. Duong Thi An and family

September 26, 2018 12:57 am Leave a Comment

Ms. Duong Thi An’s family is the Agent Orange Campaign’s sixth beneficiary. Ms. An lives in the Le Thuy district with Le Quoc Huong and Le Thi Hoa, her youngest son and daughter, respectively. Huong and Hoa have both been affected by Ms. An and her late husband’s Agent Orange exposure. Huong (39 years old) has severely impaired vision and had his right eye removed at the age of nine and Hoa (36 years old) has Down Syndrome.

Le Quoc Huong (39 years old) and Le Thi Hoa (36 years old) meet with us during our visit to their home. Unfortunately, Ms. Duong Thi An was ill and in the hospital. Huong has been in charge of managing the household with help from his brother’s family while Ms. An is away.

We visited Ms. An’s family earlier this month and spoke with Huong. Ms. An is in the hospital in Dong Hoi tending to serious problems with her gallbladder and elevated liver enzymes. Huong explained that no one realized Ms. An was sick, so she kept working in the fields and taking care of her children. He recalls that she worked so hard that her skin became yellow and eventually she could not eat anymore. Huong quietly and woefully mutters that they were all so focused on work, not health.

Ms. An spent 1 month and 10 days in Hue hospital and then was relocated to the provincial Dong Hoi hospital during the week of September 6. The move was the result of policies and procedures that require documentation to maintain her in a bigger city hospital. From Huong’s description, it seems she was unable to get the approval necessary to stay in Hue. She will return home when she is better although they are all unsure of when that will be.

Ms. An has health insurance but it does not cover all the costs of her treatment. The family had to sell the buffalo calf to pay for her treatment in Hue. It helped cover the medical costs no money from the sale remains. On a positive note, Huong is happy to report that the buffalo has just conceived earlier this month and will bear a calf in approximately 10 months. They are maintaining their buffalo-rearing endeavor in the best way they can but are experiencing competing needs that surpass the income generated by it.

Her eldest son, Le Quoc Hai, does not suffer from the effects of Agent Orange and is responsible for supporting the family in Ms. An’s temporary absence. Hai spends time with Ms. An in the hospital, uses the buffalo to farm sweet potatoes and vegetables, and raises pigs, ducks, and geese. Huong mentions that they depend on his Hai’s family.

Hoa smiles for the camera before flashing a peace sign with her fingers.

While Hai has taken up the farming and field work duties, his wife has filled in for Ms. An inside the household. Ms. An taught Hoa how to do household chores but she often depends on someone to assist or task her which Hai’s wife is able to do. Beyond these interim household duties, she also goes to Ha Dinh province to purchase medicine for Huong and Hoa every month.

Huong provides for his household through his massage parlor. He tells us that things are going well; there are slow days and days with a handful of customers. Huong would like an assistant but isn’t quite ready to hire anyone. Unfortunately, his vision is worsening. He had plans to have a consultation in Hanoi (prior to Ms. An’s treatment) but has since postponed it because there isn’t enough money. Huong will need more surgeries to save his only eye but in the meantime he can only rely on local medication.

Huong shares a few final thoughts with us before heading back to work. He has a busy day ahead of him.

Huong did not dwell on the latter for very long he had “work to do–especially now”. We said goodbye to Hoa and Hai’s children (that had been sitting nearby) and Huong hopped in the car. We dropped him off at his massage parlor but not before he gifted us a grapefruit from their garden.

I left the visit feeling saddened by Ms. An’s health condition but inspired by her family’s strength, union, and compassion. The Campaign will continue to support Ms. An’s and Huong’s business plans with regular check-ins by the Outreach Workers and overall guidance.

#4: Mr. Le Tien Dung and family

September 19, 2018 5:35 am Leave a Comment

Mr. Le Tien Dung’s family is the Agent Orange Campaign’s fourth beneficiary! Karen (AP staff) visited the family in January and I was fortunate to check in with them again this month.

Mr. Le Tien Dung and his wife, Ms. Dang Thi Miet, greet us at their front door.

Mr. Dung and Ms. Miet warmly welcome us to their home. Mr. Dung is sporting his veteran’s cap and pin on his shirt. He pours us tea as we sit around the table. Although Ms. Miet sits behind us, she is just as engaged in the conversation.

The family’s health

Both Mr. Dung and Ms. Miet joined the army prior to 1969 and were directly exposed to Agent Orange. The exposure has had a significant impact on their family’s health including their children and grandchildren. The reach Agent Orange poisoning has had on this family is harrowing–12 of their 13 children suffered and died from its effects. Their surviving daughter and two grandchildren are also victims of Agent Orange.

Mr. Dung has little to report about his own health. He remarks that he is aging but otherwise it is unchanged. Before saying anything else he begins to talk about his wife’s health condition.

It is obvious that Mr. Dung is severely concerned for his wife’s wellbeing. Ms. Miet had a surgery to remove a tumor on her back within the last two years (they weren’t exactly sure the date). Unfortunately, she stills feels pain when the weather changes. She is currently feeling pain in her neck. Ms. Miet has a goiter and the doctor has advised her to have surgery to remove it but they cannot afford it right now. Despite these difficulties, Mr. Dung and Ms. Miet seem optimistic and determined to care for their daughter and grandchildren’s health above their own.

Throughout the conversation, Mr. Dung’s demeanor was positive and often hopeful. Sometimes, usually during moments of pause however, I caught an unmistakable look of pain or hardship in his eyes.

Le Thi Ngoc (39 years old) is the couple’s only surviving daughter. Like her two children, she suffers from the effects of Agent Orange exposure. Since Karen’s visit, her health has not changed.

Ngoc’s daughter, Le Thi Phuong Thao, is 10 years old. She does not receive Agent Orange compensation as a third generation victim. The exposure has most severely affected her vision. It has worsened since January. Thao is treated regularly at the Dong Hoi eye center but her condition has worsened beyond their ability to most effectively treat her. She has had to go to a specialist in Hanoi twice this year. Thao is eligible for an eye surgery that will significantly improve her quality of life but must wait until she turns 18. As such, she will continue to rely on the medication to treat her symptoms for the next eight years.

The cow and calf

Because of their age, Mr. Dung and Ms. Miet’s income is primarily derived from the compensation they receive from the government. They are unable to farm and live from the vegetables, fruits, and herbs grown in their garden. Mr. Dung and Ms. Miet received a cow and calf in 2016 from Peace Fellow Ai Hoang’s family. Both animals are growing well and the cow is scheduled to breed once the calf has been weaned.

Mr. Dung plans to sell either the cow or calf to purchase a motorbike for Le Hoai Nam (his grandson) to go to school. Nam lives with Mr. Dung and Ms. Miet. He is Ngoc’s son and suffers from mental disabilities related to Agent Orange. He experiences violent episodes when the weather changes. Mr. Dung adds that these episodes do not happen regularly. A motorbike would greatly help the family’s situation. Mr. Dung and Ms. Miet also genuinely seem excited to gift their grandson a motorbike and look forward to it.

The couple believes they will sell the mother cow because the calf has greater potential for future breeding (due to her excellent physical qualities). They estimate the mother cow will sell for approximately 18M VND but will wait for the calf to grow for at least 2 more years; the calf is currently valued at 10M VND. Ultimately, however, their choice will depend on market price and need. Unfortunately, their current needs (motorbike, goiter removal surgery, etc.) are greater than the potential profit of one cow and they must prioritize their needs.

A portrait of Ms. Miet: Her smile and gentle manner compounded with her obvious strength are captivating.

Mr. Dung and Ms. Miet will continue to meet with an AEPD Outreach Worker. When the time is right (based on market price and calf maturation), AEPD and the Le family will discuss cow sales. They are transparent about their intentions and trust AEPD to guide them in their business plan. It’s heartening to see the rapport AEPD has built with them and how invested the Campaign and the couple are in the future of their business plan as a sustainable source of revenue creation. Although their need is greater than their income production, the Le family remains hopeful.

#2: Mr. Nguyen Van Xoan and family

September 12, 2018 6:30 am Leave a Comment

This post is in memory of Tuan. Tuan’s family was the Agent Orange Campaign’s second beneficiary. His vibrant spirit and resilience made a lasting impact on The Advocacy Project. May he rest peacefully.

We arrived at Mr. Xoan and Ms. Do’s home a little before lunchtime. There were black banners with golden lettering hanging behind the altar and around that half of the room. Mr. Vinh (the AEPD driver) lit 4 incense sticks and handed one to each of us while the family watched. This was all happening in silence.

We took turns praying and then we each stuck the incense into a small ceramic bowl where others were still burning. The other sticks were all different lengths and had been burning for different amounts of time. From what I gathered, community members, relatives, friends, etc. come to visit the family and then leave lit incense burning in the bowl after praying for the deceased. It was heartening to see that the bowl was nearly full.

We sat down with them and Ngoc (AEPD staff) and Mr. Thuan (AEPD Outreach Worker) took the lead. The couple wore black pins on their shirts. The pins will be worn every day for the next 2 years; they symbolize the loss of a loved one. Ms. Do and Mr. Xoan thanked us for coming. I expressed our sincerest condolences, how fond we were of Tuan, and that we are thinking of them. Ms. Do responded that she is so grateful to AP and Iain in particular for being such a wonderful friend to their family.

Ms. Do and Mr. Xoan took turns explaining the events but Mr. Xoan spoke with a lot of physical difficulty. Ngoc whispered to me that he has some kind of residual mental disability from Agent Orange exposure as well (but I couldn’t find anything that would suggest we knew that in our profiles of their family). Trung, their son, sat with us but came in and out of the room often to get tea, ice cubes, etc. and check on Luyen, their daughter, that was screaming outside. Both Trung and Luyen suffer extensively from the effects of Agent Orange exposure.

Tuan had been ill since the end of last year and was spending more time in Hue Hospital than out. The Vietnam Association of Victims of Agent Orange/Dioxin (VAVA) helped support some of the expenses not covered by insurance; the family sold the buffalo calf in June for 9M VND. The calf income also helped pay for expenses. Ultimately though, his condition was worsening. Approximately 28 days ago (in early August) the doctor advised Mr. Xoan, Tuan, and Trung to return to the comfort of their home because there was nothing else that could be done. About 4-5 days after they returned home from the hospital, Tuan passed away.

To add to this though, Mr. Xoan was in such a state of shock after his passing that Trung had to take Mr. Xoan to the mental hospital in Da Nang (a city about 6 hours south of Dong Hoi). He spent 10 days in the hospital and now is receiving medication/treatment at home. The family is having difficulty paying for Mr. Xoan’s treatment though. His medications are covered by insurance but when he goes to the hospital, he has to spend money on food, transportation, etc. and it ends up costing 3M VND per month for Mr. Xoan and Trung. The doctor recommends that he stay at the hospital for 2 months but they are unable to afford it. Notably though, both parents were really thankful to Trung for being so strong and helping his brother and his father throughout everything.

Before we leave, Ms. Do brings the buffalo up in conversation. On a more positive note, the buffalo is pregnant and they are hopeful. Their plans for the calf are unclear. It was not the most appropriate time to be discussing future plans.

Regardless of what is decided, we will continue to support Tuan’s family in the best way we can.

What I Saw

September 6, 2018 5:32 pm 1 Comment

Market Day in Plesian Village, Samburu County

On my final trip to Samburu County with CPI Kenya, I saw some amazing things. Since CPI Kenya started working with the Samburu and Pokot tribes to bring peace to their communities, the peacebuilding work has completely transformed their lives.

Market Day in Plesian Village, Samburu County, Kenya

I saw Market Day in Plesian Village. Every Tuesday, the Pokot tribe hosts a market in Plesian Village. At this Market Day I saw women selling vegetables, clothes, and household supplies. I saw men selling goats, cows, sheep, and farm equipment. I saw Samburu men and women shopping at this predominantly Pokot market. I saw young Samburu and Pokot men, in their early twenties, eating chapatti and drinking tea together.

During the conflict, Pokot families on average harvested 1.7 bags of maize a year. Now, on average they harvest 21.4 bags of maize a year

Why does this matter? Because just eight years ago, none of this existed. There was no Market Day, because there was nothing. The people were living like refugees, hiding in the bush and scrapping by for every meal. There was no food to sell, because there were no crops being grown. There was no livestock to sell, because all livestock had been stolen or killed in raids. And young Samburu and Pokot men eating chapatti and drinking tea together? Unimaginable. Eight years ago those same men I saw today would have killed each other on the spot if they saw one another. The only time there was interaction between the two tribes was on the battlefield.

A Pokot woman (left) and Samburu woman (right) in Longewon Village, Samburu County

The next day I saw Market Day in Longewon Village. Every Wednesday, the Samburu tribe hosts a market in Longewon. I saw similar things being sold. I saw Pokot and Samburu women patiently waiting to be seen at the Maternity Clinic by the doctor. I saw Pokot and Samburu children walking hand and hand through the village. I saw Pokot and Samburu boys playing soccer together on the dirt soccer field at Longewon Primary School.

Market Day in Longewon Village, Samburu County

Why does this matter? Because just eight years ago, none of this existed. Just like the Pokots in Plesian, the Samburu in Longewon lived as refugees. They couldn’t grow crops, because they were constantly fleeing. Pregnant women couldn’t visit the doctor or receive any health care. And Longewon Primary School was closed, unable to open because it was unsafe for the children to attend.

I saw a total transformation. I saw lives being led normally. I saw people living with peace of mind. I saw children being able to be children. I saw intermarriage. I saw friendships reaching across both tribes. I saw a thriving local economy. I saw it all, and it was all because of CPI Kenya.

#5: Mr. Ngo Gia Hue and family

September 5, 2018 4:00 am Leave a Comment

Mr. Ngo Gia Hue’s family is the Agent Orange Campaign’s fifth beneficiary. After an interesting detour that required us to catch a ride on local officials’ motorbikes*, we arrived at their home. Mr. Hue and Ms. Thao greeted us warmly and with great excitement; they were worried we would have trouble making it due to the road construction.

Mr. Hue poses for a photo with his pregnant cow and two male calves.

The family received a cow and a male calf in August 2017. As it turns out, the cow they received was pregnant and has since given birth to another male calf. Fast forward and the cow is pregnant again! By early next year, Mr. Hue’s family will have 4 cows in total. By all accounts, his cow-rearing business model is progressing well.

He uses the male cows for farming corn, rice, peanuts, and beans and makes nearly 600,000 VND ($25 USD) per month from their sales. He does not rent out the cows, nor does he sell the manure. He plans to sell one of his male cows in the near future but is “waiting until the market price reaches its peak”–when the cow becomes worth 30M VND. The profit from this sale will help pay off the 50M VND loan he had to take to repair his home. He talks about this debt with a relaxed and assured attitude; Mr. Hue remarks that he feels confident in the sustainability of his business model.

From left to right: The youngest calf, the original male calf, and the pregnant cow. Mr. Hue has spent a considerable amount of time making improvements to their shed.

Since starting his cow-rearing enterprise, Mr. Hue has begun to keep pigeons and chickens. He walks us through his cow shed and newly constructed chicken and pigeon coops with pride. Mr. Hoc and Mr. Hue reminisce on how things looked so much different a mere two years prior.

Ms. Thao has just returned from a visit to Hue hospital. She has been diagnosed with an illness related to pain in her spine. Mr. Hue and Ms. Thao are a team: he manages the fieldwork and farm work and she cares for their three daughters.

Ms. Thao sits with us as we discuss their enterprise and their overall wellbeing. She suffered a stroke in July 2017 and is finally able to walk again, albeit with a limp. Ms. Thao has just come back from the hospital in Hue and has been diagnosed with an illness related to the pain in her spine. Her daughter, Ngo Thi Thanh Nanh (27 years old) is unable to walk and Ms. Thao is often responsible for carrying her.

Ngo Thi Thanh Nanh (27 years old) and Ngo Thi Huong (34 years old) giggle after Mr. Hoc (AEPD Outreach Worker) shares a joke with them.

Despite this troubling news, the family’s economic conditions and health seem to have improved. Mr. Hue comments that their three daughters (of five children total) have become more social with outsiders. Their health and disabilities have not worsened although Ngo Thi Thanh Nanh (27 years old) is still completely dependent on her parents. As we get ready to leave, Huong walks us to the gate and wishes us goodbye with a peace sign.

Our visit is filled to Mr. Hue and Ms. Thao’s home is filled with laughter and warmth. Mr. Hoc holds Nanh’s hand as Huong tries to comfort her sister, Ngo Thi Toan (21 years old).

*Mr. Hue and Ms. Thao live in an area of the Tuyen Hoa district that is prone to flooding during the rainy season. As we make our way to their home on the bumpy dirt roads that are slowly being transformed and upgraded to cement we find ourselves at an impasse. The construction crews have place several massive piles of dirt on the most direct road to Mr. Hue’s home. Mr. Vinh (the AEPD driver) gets out of the car, examines the scene and determines with great certainty that there is no way through. We travel the 20 bumpy minutes back to the main road and drive to the district’s People’s Committee. AEPD has maintained a positive relationship with local authorities in all the beneficiary’s communes and they readily lend us motorbikes. Mr. Hue and Ms. Thao’s home is nestled in a tidy corner of their commune and proves a little difficult to find. Nevertheless, we arrive!

For additional photographs of their family and other Agent Orange Campaign beneficiaries, click here.

#1: Ms. Mai Thi Loi and family

August 29, 2018 4:48 am Leave a Comment

A group shot of everyone present, left to right: Ngoc (AEPD staff), Border Patrol Agent, Nguyen Van Cuong (Ms. Loi’s son), Mr. Van (President of AEPD self-help group for persons with disabilities in this commune), Mr. Hoc (AEPD Outreach Worker), Ms. Loi, and Nguyen Van Hung (Ms. Loi’s son)

Ms. Mai Thi Loi’s family is the first beneficiary of the Agent Orange Campaign. They live in the Tuyen Hoa district near the Vietnam-Laos border. Because of its proximity to the border, we are escorted to her home by Mr. Van (a trusted community leader and the president of the AEPD self-help group for persons with disabilities in this commune) and two border patrol agents. Ms. Loi’s new gate greets us when we finally arrive.

Ms. Loi and her sons Nguyen Van Cuong (left) and Nguyen Van Hung (right) stand in front of their home.

Ms. Loi was able to purchase and install the gate using profit from her buffalo-raising business and donations from relatives. The gate is an important home improvement. AquaLib is also awesome guide for home improvement. Her sons suffer from severe mental and intellectual disabilities and have a propensity to roam around the community (which often upsets the neighbors). Now, she’s able to close and lock the gate when she leaves to farm or run errands knowing that they are safe in their home. As a widowed caregiver of three persons severely affected by Agent Orange, she explains, the new gate has provided her some peace of mind.

Ms. Loi tells us about the buffalo, her family’s health, and their current need for a washing machine.

As we walk into her home, Ngoc (AEPD staff), notices that her table is different. She asks Ms. Loi if it is new and compliments it. Ms. Loi quietly but proudly tells us that while the table is not new, she had a new ceramic slab installed which is why it looks new. Although this moment lasted but a few seconds, it was incredibly meaningful to me.

The conversation continued to her family’s economic and health well-being. Ms. Loi explained that she still does not have enough income create a savings account and instead has to spend her income on immediate-need household and medical expenses.

As we progressed through the visit, I kept thinking about the table we saw when we first came in. Why did that moment and conversation feel so meaningful to me? Partially, it was the look in her eyes when she realized Ngoc had noticed the table. More than anything though, it was meaningful because it was a tangible example of exercising her right to her income—her economic empowerment. It was heartening to see that she chose to spend her carefully allocated income on refurbishing her table because, while I’m sure it is of great utility in the household, it also brings her joy.

Ms. Loi’s sons, Hung and Cuong, sit on the bed behind the table.

The health conditions of Ms. Loi’s sons remain largely unchanged since Karen (AP staff) visited in January 2018. Ms. Loi explains that Nguyen Van Cuong (32 years old) is doing much better than before; he used to be confined to a room like his older brother Kien (34 years old) but has received treatment and is now non-violent. Cuong naps on the bed behind us while we chat. Hung’s (30 years old) disabilities have stabilized and he is in the kitchen while we talk. I was unable to meet Kien but am told that nothing has changed. Mr. Van jumped in to add that Ms. Loi’s own health is declining and her stomach aches frequently.

The family stands for a portrait with their buffalo. He is used for farming and is rented out to neighboring farmers.

Ms. Loi does not plan to sell the buffalo. She will continue to rent him out and use him for farming. The buffalo is currently worth 40M VND but it is not yet an optimal time to sell him. In 2-3 years he will be worth 50-60M VND. The family may consider selling him then. The buffalo is used to farm corn, rice, cassava, and sweet potato. The harvest is used mostly for consumption but it only lasts 6 months of the year. She depends on loans and gifts from the local government to purchase food for the other 6 months of the year.

She earns 1.5M per month from renting out the buffalo and selling some of the harvest, but Ms. Loi cannot rent out the buffalo in the summer so she earns 1M per month during the summer months. The amount she receives for Agent Orange compensation has remain unchanged (2.5M VND per month for all 3 sons). The problem with the compensation is that it is not proportional to her sons’ disabilities caused by Agent Orange exposure. The local government and Mr. Van have helped Ms. Loi appeal for the correct compensation amount but the appeals have been unsuccessful.

As we head out and say our goodbyes I notice there are pieces of what look to be wood drying out in the sun and don’t think too much of them. It is very common to see herbs, grain, etc. drying on tarps throughout Vietnam. During lunch, however, Mr. Hoc informs us that the “wood” is actually a kind of herb used to make natural calming remedies. Ms. Loi uses them to supplement her sons’ treatment.

She is not only head of her household but a great source of strength and resilience.

#10: Mr. Thin’s family receives a cow and calf

August 22, 2018 5:32 am Leave a Comment

This blog documents the official exchange of the cow and calf between Mr. Thin’s family, Ms. Hue (the cow salesperson) and liaisons of the process (AEPD, AP, and Lam Hoa Commune’s Local People’s Committee).

As a refresher, you can find Mr. Thin’s Agent Orange Campaign profile here. We started fundraising for his family’s cow and calf in mid-July and a little over a month later, the Nguyen family has become the tenth Agent Orange Campaign beneficiary! Thank you for following Mr. Thin’s journey and generously investing in his family’s future.

From left to right: Me, Ngoc (AEPD staff), Ms. Loan, Mr. Thin, Mr. Truong Quang Tan (Deputy President of Lam Hoa Commune’s Local People’s Committee), Mr. Hoc (AEPD Outreach Worker), Ms. Hue (cow salesperson), and Ms. Hue’s partner

As soon as we had raised the amount necessary to set Mr. Thin’s cow-rearing business plan in motion, Ngoc informed Mr. Hoc (AEPD Outreach Worker). Mr. Hoc then let Mr. Thin know it was time for him to get quotes for cows and calves from different salespeople in the region.

Ms. Loan and Mr. Thin pose for a photograph together. Mr. Tan and Ms. Hue’s partner watch in amusement from the front door.

All Campaign beneficiaries are required to secure the resource(s) necessary to begin their business plan. The program’s model is set up this way to establish an additional layer of buy-in and to ensure that their resources, in this case a cow and calf, are 100 percent suitable for the family’s needs. For example, Mr. Thin wanted a particular breed and size of cow, etc. that would meet the fertilizer needs of his grapefruit and banana trees because the specific kind of grapefruit Mr. Thin is growing requires a larger quantity of manure.

He received three quotes from local salespeople for a cow and a calf: 28 million VND, 25 million VND, and 23 million VND, approximately $1,200 USD, $1,072 USD, and $987 USD, respectively. He chose to purchase the cow and calf for 23 million VND because it was the most affordable and suitable and of best quality.

Ms. Loan and Mr. Thin have padded Phan and Lam’s wheelchairs to fit their mobility needs.

The cows had arrived before we reached Mr. Thin’s house. The family was so excited about the cow and the calf that Ms. Loan put Phan in his wheelchair and introduced him to the cow and calf. Phan was so elated upon seeing them that Ms. Loan put the rope in his hands. She told us that he tried to pull the cow and walk with her in his wheelchair. Lam, hearing the commotion outside, became agitated and Mr. Thin brought him out to see the new animals as well. He seemed equally as thrilled, according to Mr. Thin. To me, the effects of the Agent Orange Campaign and what it represents are best captured by moments like these.

By the time we arrived, Phan, Lam, Mr. Thin, and Ms. Loan had spent a considerable amount of time with the cow and the calf. Their spirits were markedly different than the first time I met them in early July.

Nguyen Van Phan (23 years old) smiles at us as we enter his home. We interact and moment’s later he shoots me a peace sign with his fingers. Ms. Loan says she’s not entirely sure where he’s picked up this habit.

We entered their home to formalize the cow exchange and were met by Phan’s smiling face as he lay on the bed (rather than the hammock). Mr. Hoc facilitated the exchange and had Mr. Thin sign the contract and agreement between himself and AEPD. Mr. Tan witnessed the process and formally approved the purchase. Ms. Hue signed additional documentation and received the amount owed to her for the cow and calf.

Mr. Thin signs the official business plan and his commitment to keeping the cow and calf.

Mr. Hoc and Ms. Hue formalize the purchase (over tea and grapefruits). Ms. Hue is a fascinating businesswoman. She works for the Department of Culture and Society of a neighboring commune’s People’s Committee and breeds cows for sale.

Mr. Tan signs as a witness and confirms the legal purchase of the cow and calf.

The family has decided to use the cow and calf’s manure to fertilize their grapefruit and banana tree plantation. Mr. Thin intends to keep the cow and calf and continue to breed them. He will generate additional income by selling calves when he has a large enough herd. He confesses that they have made this decision because they “are thinking about [their family’s] future.” The income will be used for household expenses (food, medical supplies, doctor’s visits, etc.) and to help repay the loan he took out to plant grapefruit and banana trees.

Mr. Thin shares a few grapefruits with us as we are signing the documents and formalizing the contracts.

We all eat grapefruit with quite a bit of enthusiasm.

To add to the good news, the family’s grapefruit trees have already started to bear fruit and they have earned 4 million VND (approximately $170 USD) from selling grapefruits this summer.

Mr. Hoc officially hands over the cow to Mr. Thin. Mr. Tan observes.

Once every document had been signed and discussed, Mr. Thin led us to his field where Mr. Hoc officially handed over the cow’s rope. And with this swift gesture, Mr. Thin and his family were the official and rightful owners of a cow and calf.

…

To ensure sustainability and longevity, we will continue to monitor and evaluate the Nguyen family’s progress as a result of their cow-rearing business plan; Mr. Hoc will continue to visit the family fairly regularly to check-in. I have high hopes for their success. Cheers to them, the Campaign, and to your kindness!

Ultimately, I hope this post chronicled the formal exchange of the cow and the calf but also the human spirit that carries this program and its place in igniting social change with those affected by Agent Orange.

For additional photographs of this visit and my other experiences in Vietnam, click here.

Who will pay for Manju?

August 12, 2018 12:23 pm 2 Comments

It is the fourth year Manju is supported by CONCERN and she is very much aware of the importance of education. (Bhaktapur/LC)

Manju is 16. Most of the time she is lowering the gaze, when someone is speaking to her. She answers questions very evasively, but always with the shadow of a smile appearing on her face. She feels quite uncomfortable. We joke, speak about our experiences with school and try to make her feel safe and relaxed. It is difficult. She tells us that she likes going to school and that she helps her mom in her shop after school when she has free time. She tells us that she never worked in a brick factory.

Buddha Mala, her mother, is more direct and makes no secret about her daughter’s past work in the kilns. She has tears in the eyes when she mentions her and her children’s life in the brick factory. We make her understand that we are not judging her, but that we ask these questions only to help her, because the monitoring and evaluating of the 50 Children Program in talking to all families supported by CONCERN and AP, is necessary for the project’s improvement. Her statement is very important to us. Even more, when I realise that her daughter did not tell us the truth. I guess she tried to protect her mother, fearing we could blame or scold her because she took her kids with her to the kilns from a very young age. These human and understandable bias distort any evaluating, that’s why crossing interviews around one person or issue is crucial.

Buddha Mala (middle) is supported by CONCERN and AP since 2015. It enabled her to send her daughter to school instead of taking her to the kilns, where Manju used to work until the age of 12. (Bhaktapur/LC)

When comes the end of the questionnaire and we ask Buddha Mala if she has any further comments or queries, comes the question:

Will you continue to support Manju’s school fees even if she is 16 now?

Her very pertinent question stumped me.

Until when are you a considered as being a vulnerable child that needs to be rescued from child labour? Until when should a child, that was rescued from the work in brick factories and given access to education, be supported in order to avoid him going back to the kilns – because without diploma it is almost his only opportunity?

It opens an even broader question, not only about free access to basic education, but also making access to high school easier, to allow a child to go through its entire schooling in the best condition, while making sure he obtains a diploma once it is accomplished.

Saraswati school in Bhaktapur is one of seven schools supported by CONCERN in 2018. (Bhaktapur/LC)

From a South-African perspective

During my research on sponsored education around the world, I came across one interesting example on how the government takes actively part in reducing school fees for basic education. South-Africa’s Schools Act of 1996 introduced the opportunity for poor families to be exempted from paying school fees. The act has been enriched in 2007 with the no-fees school concept that aimed to abolish school fees in the 40% poorest schools according to a national ranking system including schools from grade 5 to 9.

The education sponsorship system as it has been experienced in South-African schools has great potential. Despite the help the School Act provides to schools and families with a poor background, this school fee exemption initiative also shows its own limitations though. A case study published in 2010 by USAID shows that while this system is relieving many parents regarding the school fees, its benefits are unequal over the country. The rules are especially affecting negatively poor schools of some areas with main obstacles, such as principals that do not necessarily inform parents about the exemption application process, because provincial governments do not necessarily investigate on how and if schools respect their budget, because headmasters of poor schools are often overwhelmed by the complexity of the new kind of school budget they have to produce.

Other articles also point out the lack of additional governmental compensations for schools that have a high exemption level, compared to the support no-fee school receives, while the first ones being in poor areas, definitely need more attention.

Saraswati school’s headmaster in his office. (Bhaktapur/LC)

If I write extensively about school fee exemption and no school fee policies, it is because I raised the question of the benefits of free access for ALL children to basic education in my last blog “The Challenge of Prioritizing”. However, the South-African example would not solve Manju’s issue. Older learners are clearly not a priority for the government that only supports children from Grade R (the beginning of basic education around 5 years of age) to Grade 9 (before beginning higher secondary school, around 14 years of age). For those from Grade 10 to 12 the total amount of school fees will have to be paid no matter their financial background. A national survey from 2005 shows that children’s attendance rates are very high (around 98%) for those between 8 and 14, but that from age 15 their attendance rate considerably decreases(around 85%). The trends clearly show that dropouts are linked to lacking support of older learners, even though it is understandable that the state prioritize the access to basic education.

But what about all the Manjus of Nepal?

From CONCERN’s perspective

Manju is supported jointly by CONCERN and AP since 2015 and studied from then up to 2018 in Dattatraya school, along with her classmates Muskan and Roji, before being transferred to Saraswati higher secondary school. She loves going to school because of its atmosphere and is doing well, especially in Nepali her favourite subject. Sometimes she has to miss school when her parents are going to their village in Ramechhap. Both her parents worked in brick factories for years and took their children with them because they needed more money to eat. Manju worked and lived in the factory until the age of 10 and was shifting bricks everyday. Now, her father is a construction labourer and her mom has a little shop where Manju is helping after school when she has free time. Her parents want her to be hard-working since they did not have that opportunity themselves. She told us being happy because her parents allow her to read and write, and her awareness about the condition of her parents and their support for her education is touching.

Muskan, Manju and Roji listening to the headmaster. (Bhaktapur/LC)

Like in so many countries, Nepal’s youth faces the problem of unemployment if their college level is “only” corresponding to that of a bachelor’s degree. For young graduates from high school, the job hunt is even more difficult and leads to considerable headache about accepting jobs that are underpaid regarding their qualifications, or doing a job that is well paid – mostly in the banking sector – but that does not correspond to their aspirations at all. Young people that dropped out at 16 do not even have the choice to work in the banking sector or somewhere else, they are mostly condemned to work for jobs where no diploma is requested. Most of the time they need to go back to rough labour jobs such as working in construction work, agriculture or brick kilns.

Manju is receiving her new uniform from CONCERN. Now she has two school dresses that will last for one whole year. (Bhaktapur/LC)

For this reason, it is of high necessity for CONCERN to support children even if these are not considered as being vulnerable children anymore. It seems difficult to me to see any sustainability in the support given to these families, if their child is not supported for the crucial final years leading to the diploma. This problem is not unique to Nepal but to every country where children with disadvantaged backgrounds are most of the time falling behind governmental education policies. Breaking the circle of child labour needs a long-term support that ensures a child of being skilled enough to live in better conditions to help enable its own future children to go to school, and in advocating for a child labour free society.

I did not know what to say to her mom when she asked me if we could continue to support her even if Manju is 16 now. I would have said yes. Unfortunately, I am not the one deciding on this.

This smile is worth all education fees in the world. (Bhaktapur/LC)

Child Marriage and Religion in Zimbabwe

August 10, 2018 9:40 am 3 Comments

Evelyn photographed in Harare, June 2018.

When Evelyn was thirteen years old, her brother became seriously ill and she went to her village’s Apostolic church to seek help from one of its spiritual healers. The African Apostolic Church mixes evangelical Christian beliefs with traditional culture and has over a million followers in Zimbabwe. Colloquially, it is called the “White Garment Church” because its devotees wear spotless white robes and worship outdoors under white banners. Drive through Harare on Friday, the Apostolic day of worship, and you’ll see groups of white-robed worshipers gathered in open-air churches in fields or under Zimbabwe’s namesake rock formations.

Evelyn prayed fervently at the White Garment Church for her brother’s recovery. After the service, the Apostolic healer asked Evelyn to remain behind and speak with him. She agreed, hoping that he would offer a special prayer for her brother. Once the other worshipers had left and they were alone, the priest raped her.

When Evelyn told her parents about the assault, they confronted the healer, even though he was the son of the local chief and had considerable influence in their village. Evelyn’s attacker offered to marry her, saying that he would pay Evelyn’s father Lobola, or bride price, and compensate him with cattle.

An Apostolic priest and his congregation in Harare.

Evelyn wanted nothing to do with her attacker—he was in his fifties and she was only thirteen—but her parents forced her to marry him because she was no longer a virgin and they believed that her lack of virginity brought shame to the family.

Evelyn’s marriage was not a happy one. Her husband had four other wives, all of whom were young women or girls, and she soon discovered that he was both physically and sexually abusive. Evelyn did not want to have children in this environment and began taking family planning tablets, but her husband discovered them and beat her. Members of the African Apostolic Church often seek to elevate their standing within the congregation by having many children whom they can bring into the church as new followers.

When Evelyn discovered she was pregnant, she attempted to escape, but her husband found her and dragged her home. “Every five months, I would try to run away,” she told the Woman Advocacy Project. “But he would look for me everywhere and find me. I once tried to take my son and run, I went to my brother’s house, but I saw him coming in the distance and I fled. I went to my aunties’ place, but he didn’t have any trouble locating me there.” After one of her attempts to escape, Evelyn’s husband took all of her clothes and hid them in order to prevent her from leaving.

After several years and six unsuccessful escape attempts, Evelyn managed to flee to Harare. Although she was finally free of her husband’s violence, she had to leave her son behind—a choice that she still finds tremendously painful. Evelyn’s husband is now the chief of their village and he has considerable influence over the local courts, which have awarded him sole custody of the child. In secret, Evelyn used to visit her son at school; when her husband learned of the visits, the school banned her from the premises. Her husband has threatened to notify the police if Evelyn tries to contact her son again. It has been more than three years since she last saw the child.

An Apostolic place of worship in the Waterfalls neighborhood of Harare.

My last few posts have discussed how poverty, limited access to education, inadequate knowledge of sexual and reproductive health, and harmful social norms fuel child marriage in Zimbabwe. In this post I’ll take a look at another cause of early marriage: the harmful practices that are common in African Apostolic sects.

Child marriage, forced marriage, and other human rights violations, including virginity testing, are widely practiced among Zimbabwe’s Apostolic groups, and particularly in rural areas. Many of these congregations discourage girls’ education and forbid married girls to attend school. According to a UNFPA report, rates of child marriage are significantly higher among Apostolics: 23% of Apostolicadolescents are married, compared to 9% of adolescents who belong to traditional religious communities.

Apostolic Church doctrine places a high value on virginity. Girls as young as twelve are often pushed into marriages—usually too far older men—in order to ensure that they do not become sexually active out of wedlock. As one woman member of an Apostolic church in Zimbabwe reported to Human Rights Watch, “As soon as a girl reaches puberty, any man in the church can claim her for his wife.”

These marriages are sometimes forced. “Some men in these [Apostolic] churches claim to have dreamt being married to you, they say, ‘you were given to me in spirit’ and you are forced to go to him,” a girl in rural Zimbabwe told UNFPA.

Several young women told WAP that young girls are often lined up and chosen for marriage by White Garment Church elders. This selection usually follows “virginity testing,” or the insertion of fingers into the vagina in order to confirm that the hymen is intact. (The World Health Organization calls this practice a human rights violation that has no scientific grounding.) “If found to be virgins they get marks on their foreheads. Older men in the church will then choose these ‘fresh girls’ to become their wives, often joining polygamous unions. If a man marries a woman who is not a virgin, she is required to find a virgin girl for her husband to marry as compensation,” said Archbishop Johannes Ndanga, president of the Apostolic Churches Council of Zimbabwe.

Zivanai and her children in Chitungwiza, Zimbabwe.

Polygamy is common in Apostolic sects. Zivanai, a 28-year-old member of the Apostolic faith, told WAP that when she was eighteen years old, she married a man who had two other wives. “His first wife has six children, his second wife has four,”Zivanai said. “We all stay with him and each night he goes in a circle, from one woman to the next.”Over the past ten years, Zivanai has given birth to four children and is currently pregnant. Her husband does not provide any financial support and none of her children are attending school.

The Apostolic sect rewards men who bring many children into the church as followers. This rewards system incentivizes husbands to have more wives and children than they can support. As a result, these unions often lead to poverty and leave women and children vulnerable to domestic abuse. “My father had six wives and there were twenty-six children,” Rudo, a young woman living in Chitungwiza, told WAP. “My father was praying with the White Garment Church. That is the culture. When you are growing in the church, you have many wives to bring in more followers.”

Rudo’s father was often violent. After several years of abuse, Rudo’s mother and two of the other wives ran away.“After my mother left, there was no one to take care of me, no one cared for me,” she said. Her brother would hit her and Rudo felt alone and helpless. “I sought out a boyfriend because I faced a difficult situation at home,” she told WAP. When she was seventeen, she was seen out with a boyfriend. Worried that she was no longer a virgin, Rudo’s family forced her to marry the boy. Today Rudo and her husband are still together and have five children.“I’m not happy in my marriage. I feel like I’m living my mother’s life,” she says.

In recent years, several Apostolic church leaders have pledged to end child marriage in their congregations, but these efforts have yet to reach many communities throughout Zimbabwe. WAP calls on all Apostolic sects to respect women and girls’ rights by ending child and forced marriages, committing to women and girls’ equality, and discontinuing the degrading and unscientific practice of virginity testing.

Names and identifying details in this story have been changed.

An Apostolic congregation in Harare.

Child Marriage and Harmful Social Norms

August 8, 2018 4:25 am 3 Comments

Angeline and her son in Chitungwiza.

Child Marriage and Harmful Social Norms

One day, when Angeline was seventeen years old, she met her boyfriend and together they went to the market to buy vegetables. On the walk home, they were spotted by an aunt, who immediately told the rest of the family. Suspecting that Angeline might be sexually active, her relatives forced her to marry the boy.

Roughly one in three girls in Zimbabwe is married by her eighteenth birthday. Discriminatory social norms that link a girl’s perceived “purity” to her family’s honor are among the factors that push girls into marriage. According to Human Rights Watch, young women and girls who become pregnant, stay out late, are seen in the company of suspected boyfriends, or are otherwise thought to be sexually active can be forced into marriage in order to preserve their familial honor.

Stories like Angeline’s are not uncommon. Nyarayi, a young woman in Harare’s Mbaresuburb, told the Woman Advocacy Project (WAP) that when she was fifteen years old, she came home late after seeing her boyfriend. The relatives with whom she was living cast her out of the house, telling her to “go back where you came from.” Shortly afterward, Nyarayi married and left school. She had two children by the time she turned eighteen.

Girls who become pregnant are often cast out by their families, a practice that effectively forces them to marry. Tinotenda, a woman from Hopley, told WAP that she married at seventeen after discovering she was pregnant. When her father learned of the pregnancy, he threw her out of the house and she says she had no alternative but to marry.

The belief that a girl’s virginity reflects on her family’s honor is widespread and applies even in cases of rape. Evelyn, a woman in Hopley, told WAP that her parents forced her to marry her rapist because she was no longer a virgin. At the time of the assault and subsequent marriage, Evelyn was thirteen years old and her attacker was in his fifties.

Evelyn was raped at age thirteen and forced to marry her attacker because she was no longer a virgin.

Despite a 2016 legal reform in Zimbabwe that made all marriage illegal for children under eighteen, WAP’s research shows that forced child marriages continue to occur. “Last month, one of my friends was forced to marry at age fifteen because her mother heard that she had been seen out with a boyfriend,” fifteen-year-old Immaculate told WAP in June of 2018.

In addition to providing critical mentorship and sexual health education, each of WAP’s Ambassadors Against Child Marriage will act as a first line of response if one of their peers is being forced to marry, in danger of being thrown out of her home, or being abused—another factor that pushes girls to marry young.

Ambassadors will be responsible for keeping open lines of communication with their peers and encouraging them to ask for help if one of these situations should occur. If a girl is being pressured to marry, the Ambassador will contact the Woman Advocacy Project team, who can then intervene with the girls’ parents. If a girl is experiencing abuse at home, WAP’s team will work with the girl and the appropriate authorities to protect her from further harm.

“In cases where an Ambassador informs WAP that a girl is being forced into marriage at a tender age by her parents, our team will carefully investigate the issue and enter into a dialogue with the parents,” says Constance Mugari, Executive Director of the Woman Advocacy Project. “Zimbabwean law prohibits all marriage for children under eighteen. We will counsel parents on their legal obligations and also advise them of the many dangers of early marriage that we have seen after years of working at the community level.”

Mugari adds that the majority of women with whom WAP works who were forced to marry as children end up in unhappy, and sometimes violent, partnerships. “We see often that these marriages end in separation or needing a family law attorney to help them getting divorce. Married girls almost always leave school, limiting their earning potential and leaving them extremely vulnerable to poverty if the marriage dissolves. We always counsel families that a child marriage is not in the best interests of their daughter or her children, and ultimately not in the best interest of their family.”

Names and identifying details in this story have been changed.

Nyarayi married at age fifteen after being thrown out of her home.

#9: Mr. Nguyen Huu Phuc and family

1:06 am 2 Comments

We visited Mr. Phuc’s family on July 4, 2018. They are the ninth Agent Orange Campaign beneficiaries thanks to the generous support of a longtime friend of the AEPD and AP partnership. As a result, the Campaign is on its way to support three beneficiaries this year!

Meet Mr. Nguyen Huu Phuc’s family

Mr. Nguyen Huu Phuc and his wife, Ms. Nguyen Thi Thanh, live in the Tuyen Hoa district of the Quang Binh province with their son, Nguyen Van Tam, and daughter, Nguyen Thi Nam. The couple had eight children, five of which are affected by Agent Orange exposure. Of these five, Tam, Nam, and Nguyen The Bay are the surviving three. Two of their siblings passed away “many years ago”. Nguyen The Bay has mental disabilities but is able to live in his own home nearby. He receives 1.4M VND (~$60 USD) per month in Agent Orange compensation.

Nguyen Thi Nam is 28 years old. She was born with cerebral palsy as a result of her family’s Agent Orange exposure. Nam receives 1.4M VND (~$60 USD) per month in Agent Orange compensation. She is completely dependent on her parents’ care-taking and spends most of her time on her bed near the kitchen.

The heat that day was unforgiving. Nam looked comfortable in the coolest area of the home with the fan blowing nearby. I greeted her as I approached and she responded with a smile, tracking the camera as I leaned in to take her portrait. Ms. Thanh smiled gleefully as she watched this interaction.

Nguyen Van Tam is 25 years old. He was born with cerebral palsy as a result of his family’s Agent Orange exposure. Like Bay and Nam, Tam also receives 1.4M VND (~$60 USD) per month in Agent Orange compensation. He spends the majority of his days lying on his bed directly in front of the home’s double doors. The fan cools his skin. During our conversation, Mr. Phuc alternates between sitting on the floor with us and sitting beside Tam, holding his hand gently and caressing his hair. They have a really beautiful bond.

Mr. Phuc received his cow and calf

In consultation with Mr. Hoc, an AEPD Outreach Worker, Mr. Phuc elected to rear a cow and calf. Mr. Phuc explained that he and his wife are aging and their health is declining. They will use the female cow to produce fertilizer and calves for sale to supplement the income they earn from their 1000 square meters of rice field. The couple used to raise pigs but found it to be too intensive and risky. When they are no longer able to tend to their rice field, they will live primarily from the cow-rearing income.

Visiting Mr. Phuc’s family was made even more special because we witnessed Mr. Phuc receiving his cow and calf from the cow salesman. Mr. Hoc facilitated the sale. The Agent Orange Campaign model requires that the Outreach Worker facilitate the exchange of the resource (in this case the cow and calf) and the money.

Mr. Tam, the cow salesman arrived within minutes and joined us. Mr. Hoc and Mr. Phuc reviewed the business plan and reestablished Mr. Phuc’s commitment to it. Mr. Hoc pulled out money from his backpack and counted it in front of all of us (cow salesman included). He then handed it over to the cow salesman and asked him to count it, again out loud. Mr. Hoc took a video of this exchange as proof of payment. The cow salesman nodded in agreement and looked over to Mr. Phuc.

Mr. Phuc, Mr. Hoc, and Mr. Tam (the cow salesman) pose for a photograph upon the cow and calf’s official purchase.

We all got up, put on our shoes, and headed to the small garden in front of Mr. Phuc’s home. Holding the cow’s rope, Mr. Hoc said a few words, shook hands with the cows salesman, and proudly handed over the rope to Mr. Phuc. In that moment, the cow and calf were officially purchased and the business plan had launched.

A snap of the team. From left to right: Mr. Hoc (AEPD Outreach Worker), Mr. Phuc, Ms. Thanh, Mr. Tam (cow salesman), AEPD Staff (Ashley, Ngoc, Seanin, me, and Mr. Vinh).

The Challenge of Prioritizing

August 7, 2018 7:42 am 2 Comments

Parents and children enrolled in Phaidhoka school listening to the headmaster’s speech on the importance of education. (Bhaktapur/LC)

They are quiet. They are standing next to their classmates or sitting next to their parents for those whose parents could skip their jobs to come to the schools. They are listening to the headmaster’s words on the importance of being a hard-working student. They are listening to my speech on the necessity of being studious to achieve their dreams, because being educated enough to chose which kind of job they desire to do is an incredible advantage – recalling the most important thing my father ever told me about education – and finally they are listening to Prakash’s comments on CONCERN’s commitment to the kids and their families.

Distribution day 1: Prakash and Sarita waiting for the 10 children of Dattatraya school and their parents. (Bhaktapur/LC)

On the chance to get a uniform

Once a year, all kids enrolled in the 50 Children Program receive their new uniform and school bag. Along with school fees that include admission and registration fees, exam fees three or four times a year, CONCERN supports parents with a full range of school necessities such as stationery, school dress, tie and belt, bags and shoes. Children who devote more time to sports are provided with shows designed for running about which you can read more on the Shoehero website. Nurturing this interest will not only help the children get better at it, but it may also lead to a high earning career. When necessary, CONCERN also spends money on computer teaching classes, special and vocational courses for those schools where these classes are compulsory. Last but not least, some schools ask for a library contribution, first aid fees or snack and lunch support. As depicted, education support does not only include basic support but also the kind of services that are not coming immediately to mind when thinking about school fees, but that help a child to adapt and fit within his school environment.

A schoolgirl from Dattatraya bowing her head while receiving her new school dress. (Bhaktapur/LC)

Asmita is holding her brand new bag surrounded by Prakash and Sarita. (Bhaktapur/LC)

Many parents showed us their gratitude, pointing at CONCERN’s logo next to The Advocacy Project’s logo printed on the front of their children’s new bags. It is obviously much easier for parents to deal with their tight household budget if they get support regarding school expenses. The saved money helps them to buy healthier food for their children and even to buy other clothes and shoes. Some kids have nothing else to put on than their uniforms, that they wear every day, even on school-free Saturdays. In such cases, it is an extreme relieve for families to be offered a school dress, while they “only” need to purchase another one. Kids will then alternate between two uniforms for the upcoming 365 days.

Asmita’s father refuses to send his two daughters to work. (Bhaktapur/LC)

CONCERN’s help for example, enables Manju’s mother to spend more money on her other children’s school expenses that she has to afford by herself.

Asmita’s father on his side, is grateful towards CONCERN because it encourages him not to send his two young daughters to work once they would be physically strong enough.

On the reflection behind lacking shoes

This year, CONCERN’s budget was too tight to provide children with shoes. Either kids will have to wear their previous pair shoes for another year – if they still fit their feet size – or parents will have to buy a new pair. It is too easy to pretend that if one child grows out of his uniform or shoes, he can buy some second hand from older children. Since these are worn all year long, it’s obviously not easy to buy good quality school dresses and shoes from the second hand market, if one should exist. Another reason is that uniforms are tailored to meet individual sizes.

Distribution day 2: Prakash, Sajesh and Sarita preparing the bags and dresses to be distributed. (Bhaktapur/LC)

In any case, families’ difficulties to afford school garments reveals the underprivileged background these children come from. Since they are already attending public schools with high school fees, it remains uncertain where the household budget will need to be cut in order to meet the school financial requirements.

CONCERN supports 7 families at Bagiswori school. (Bhaktapur/LC)

In a country where the formal section of education does not necessarily provide full basic education for all children, many kids dropout or even fail to enter the education system, mostly because of high school fees and low incomes. Moreover, the gap left by uneven public school’s educational standard opened the market for the private sector. In 2016, there were 6,015 private secondary schools for 29,207 public secondary schools in Nepal. In 2017, the lower-secondary level of private schools accounted 17.2% of all school enrollments, compared to 13.6% in 2011. The private sector is believed to provide better quality education but the schools are very expensive and only affordable by the higher society. In any case, the question should not be about making private schools more accessible but on how to increase public school’s educational standard, while getting more governmental funds in order to help them providing good education at affordable cost.

Roman, one of the youngest supported children from the 2018 program received his uniform for LKG class. (Bhaktapur/LC)

To me, investing in a new pair of shoes that is worn every single day, in school or not, protecting feet (we should not underestimate the importance of taking care of our feet, they support the weight of our body for our whole life) should come before school dresses and co., despite the never-ending debate on benefits and inconvenient of imposing those at school. Ensuring that parents can pay basic education fees for their children in making education free or in decreasing costs should also come before the government’s decision to make uniform compulsory in governmental schools.

In a country where public schools are poor and government funding sparse, the necessity to afford a school dress seems to be more important that ensuring access to good education for all. It’s all about prioritizing. But what to prioritize? Why and how?

Would school fee exemption or no-fee policies make a difference?

Prakash and I clowing around before the school dress distribution at Dattatraya school. (Bhaktapur/LC)

Mama CPI

August 3, 2018 8:18 am 4 Comments

Have you ever met someone for the first time but felt like you’ve met them before, and will meet them again in the future? I’ve never felt that until I met Mama CPI in Logorate, Samburu County a few weeks ago.

Evelyn Lengapiyani, aka Mama CPI

The CPI Kenya team and I arrived at the home of Evelyn Lengapiyani as dusk started to fall, but Evelyn wasn’t there. One of her sons ran to get her in the cornfields, and as we waited in front of her traditional Samburu house I gazed out at the beautiful rolling hills with the gentle sun casting its last light onto the tall green and yellow grasses. “Gosh, Samburu County is beautiful,” I thought to myself for about the hundredth time that day. After about 15 minutes Evelyn arrived and immediately invited us into her home.

Mama CPI warmly welcoming Hilary (left) and Caroline (center). You can see the beautiful land on which Mama CPI lives in the background

Full disclosure, I am not an impartial reporter when it comes to Evelyn. She is one of those people that you just instantly like. Her hugs are warm, her smiles are authentic, and despite her knowing little English and me little Kiswahili, we understood each other. She’s affectionately called “Mama CPI” by the CPI Kenya team members because she is such a big supporter of their work and has been such an advocate for peace in her Samburu community. Last year CPI Kenya held a peace conference in Nairobi and brought two Samburu and two Pokot parents to the conference to speak about the impact of peace on their communities, and Mama CPI was one of the Samburu’s they invited. She is well spoken, passionate, and genuinely kind (again, I am super biased. But in my defense, I think everyone would agree with me if they met her).

Hilary (who is about 6’1) as he enters Mama CPI’s home

We settled in her traditional Samburu home (low thatched roof, mud walls, dirt floor, no power or water, and smoky air) and began our interview with her. I began by asking her the same standard questions we had been asking all the families who received a Heifer for Peace, but could tell right away that she was incredibly intelligent and a voice of the village, so we went deeper.

“Why did CPI Kenya’s peacebuilding efforts work, while so many other approaches failed?” I asked Mama CPI. Immediately she responded “Even in families, children are a source of peace. I love my kids, and the Pokot love theirs. The children brought us together.” She also brought up a very interesting point that people outside of the communities would have never known. She told us how there is “a lot of movement between the children”, which also prevents conflict because no thieves will attack a village if they aren’t sure whether there are kids from their tribe in that village or not.

Interviewing Mama CPI inside her home

Mama CPI continued on, saying that “the children have really strengthened the bond between the two communities. The children bring friendships that go beyond their families.” She proudly talked about how her niece brings all of her Pokot friends and their families to her corn mill, and how her business is doing well now because she has Pokot customers (and she even gives to them a family discount). She talks about how “the extended family of Didi (her son’s Pokot friend, who they have a shared Heifer for Peace with) has welcomed my son, not just the immediate family. And we have done the same too.”

Mama CPI’s homestead

As we get up to leave, Mama CPI holds my hands and says “Above all, I want to thank God and thank CPI, and pray that CPI can spread their work to many more communities.” She takes us back outside, where I comment about how beautiful her property is. She smiles, and says “yes, it is beautiful now, but it used to be a battlefield.” I come to find out that in 2006, a Pokot father and his two sons were shot and killed on this same land while trying to steal cattle from the Samburu. In 2007, a young Pokot man who was a university student was shot and killed beneath the same tree that I had been gazing at when waiting for Mama CPI to arrive.

Now, this same land is owned by Mama CPI and her family. It hasn’t seen bloodshed since CPI Kenya started working with the communities in 2012. Mama CPI now has 13 cows, compared to the one lone cow she had during the conflict. In fact, just three days before we arrived her shared Heifer for Peace gave birth to a newborn calf, which she will give to the Loman family (the Pokot family whom she shares the Heifer for Peace with). It is a beautiful, peaceful land that is shared by both the Samburu and Pokot tribes, and it has remained that way because of the work of CPI Kenya and because of the commitment to peace that people like Mama CPI have made.

I feel very lucky to have met Mama CPI, and have a feeling that I will meet her again. I told her this as we said goodbye, and she agreed. I love when a moment like this hits you; it shows how wonderful and strange and small a world this is, and shows how a “Mzungu” (white person) from Buffalo, NY and a Samburu woman from Logorate, Kenya can be so closely connected.

See you again sometime in the future, Mama CPI.

Sure enough, three days later I saw Mama CPI. But she had planned this, and surprised me by gifting me with the traditional Samburu headband that she had made by hand. I was (and still am) so humbled and thankful for her gift

Nancy Okot

August 2, 2018 1:35 pm 3 Comments

Nancy is the oldest of seven children. In Uganda, being the oldest child carries a lot of responsibilities which made the fact that Nancy is disabled especially difficult. “My parents love me, but my father struggles to accept me.” She told me that for a long time her father blamed god for her disability. Imagine being born into a world were even your father sees you as inferior, what would that do to a child’s self-esteem?Once Nancy began school, things only became more difficult. “Some people have disabilities that you cannot see, those are the lucky ones. Children would see me and mimic my arm, which really hurt me.” Anyone reading this should try to remember being a child. The fear of not fitting in is universal. Nancy’s entire life has been defined by one feature of her body. It’s unfair. It’s heartbreaking, but for Nancy, it’s an everyday occurrence. She says people treat her like a child because of her disability, even though she’s exceptionally sharp. She wants to become a seamstress, but for now she farms. I asked her if it’s difficult for her to use a hoe with her disabilities to which she quickly replies “”It’s not easy, but I can farm better than you!” Current score: Nancy – 1, Chris – 0.

Nancy is quite a charming, albeit spunky, young woman. I noticed during our interview that some teachers were standing a few feet away. I thought they were curious about the question I was asking or maybe they just wanted to see the mono (Acholi for white person). My ego quickly deflated once I concluded the interview, and the teachers flocked to Nancy. They began joking and laughing like old friends. One teacher took Nancy by the hand and walked away with her, their laugher still echoing off the classrooms at Tochi Primary School. And I was left sitting there, alone. Updated score: Nancy – 2, Chris – 0.

Poverty Causes and Perpetuates Child Marriage

August 1, 2018 4:45 am 4 Comments

Shorai married at age 16 and was pregnant by age 17. “My parents died. I was staying with my grandfather, but there were too many grandchildren. We had no money for school, no money for food,” she told WAP. “This situation caused me to get married.”

Anaishe, a young woman from Harare’s Epworth neighborhood, married when she was seventeen years old. “I married because of the poverty in which I was living,” she told the Woman Advocacy Project (WAP). Anaishe’s parents had died and she and her siblings had gone to live with an uncle. The uncle wanted little to do with the orphans. He and his family lived on one end of the house, while Anaishe and her siblings were given a room on the opposite end and told to fend for themselves. Anaishe and her seven siblings had no money for clothes or school fees. “Truly, I’m not happy that I married so young,” she says. “It was because of hopelessness. When you feel you’ve come to the end of your life when you’re so young—you don’t know what your future could be.”

In the wake of Zimbabwe’s ongoing economic crisis, Anaishe’s story is all too common. According to UNICEF, 32% of girls in Zimbabwe marry before their eighteenth birthdays. Poverty is a major catalyst for child marriage: Across the country, girls from the poorest 20% of households are four times more likely to marry as children than are girls from the wealthiest 20% of households.

In June and July 2018, WAP interviewed 136 women and girls in and around Harare, including fourteen women who married as children and many more who married later in their teens. These interviews demonstrated that poverty is both a cause and a result of early marriage after a study made by a divorce attorney the court claims.

Zimbabwe’s unemployment rate is currently estimated to be over 85%, meaning that many families are struggling to survive. Several girls told us that they started seeing boyfriends in the hope of getting help with paying for school fees and supplies. Others said that they saw marriage as the only way out of poverty. Girls who marry almost always leave school, which limits their lifelong earning potential and means that they are more likely to live in poverty as adults.

Joy married at age fifteen after her father died.

These interviews revealed that orphans are particularly vulnerable to early marriage. Shorai, a woman who lives in Chitungwiza,married at age sixteen and was pregnant by seventeen. “My parents died. I was staying with my grandfather, but there were too many grandchildren. We had no money for school, no money for food,” she told WAP. “This situation caused me to get married.” Similarly, Joy from Hopley married at fifteen after her father died. “I was living with my grandmother in difficult conditions,” she said. “Sometimes I would sleep without food, I would sleep outside. My solution was to get married. I thought to myself: if I get married I can at least help my mother.”

“One of the things that motivates girls to marry young is when their parents die, and they don’t have money and can’t pay their school fees. They think it will be easier if they find a husband,” says Mary, a fifteen-year-old from Epworth, whose older sister married at sixteen for these very reasons.

Unfortunately, hardly any of the women WAP interviewed found that marriage made it easier for them to find money to pay their school fees. Shorai and her husband divorced; she remarried. Shorai washes clothes and does part-time work, but what she earns does not amount to enough to cover her children’s school fees. Her new husband “comes and goes,” she says, and most of the time she is alone with the children. “I would love my children to go to school. I don’t want them to be like me,” she says. “I hope they wait to marry until they are 25.”

Zimbabwe’s economic crisis leads to other challenges for women, even if it does not push them to marry. The persistent lack of employment opportunities leaves many women— particularly single mothers and widows—in dire financial straits. 32-year-old Edith is an unemployed single mother struggling to support her two children. “We owe money to the school,” Edith told WAP. “My13-year-old owes $120 and my 7-year-old owes $160. I just want to work, I would do anything.”

Sara, a 28-year old widow, told WAP that she does sex work in order to support her three children. “I spend all the money on food for the kids,” she said. “I would rather do another job, I don’t like doing sex work. I’ve gotten beaten up and had many STIs. It was poverty that forced me into this line of work.”

In the coming months, WAP will recruit and train five talented young women to work as Ambassadors Against Child Marriage. As part of their Ambassadorship, these girls will educate their peers about the long-term harms associated with child marriage and talk with them about how child marriage often exacerbates poverty rather than relieving it. This program will provide community-integrated peer leadership to ensure that no more girls like Anaishe marry because of “hopelessness” and a lack of knowledge about what the future could hold.

Names and identifying details in this story have been changed.

Constance married at age nineteen. Like many of the women WAP works with, she married early due to difficult financial circumstances. “My father passed on, so no one could pay for my school fees. The only alternative was marriage” she explained.

#11: Ms. Vo Thi Toa and family

July 31, 2018 10:53 am 3 Comments

I visited Ms. Toa’s family during my first field trip in early July. Ms. Toa met with Karen, an AP staff member, in January 2018. At the time, Ms. Toa’s family had been considered a potential beneficiary for the Agent Orange Campaign. Today, eight months later, the family’s situation has worsened and AEPD has identified them as next priority beneficiary family.

***

Ms. Vo Thi Toa (above) is a 71 year-old powerhouse. We sit in her two-bedroom home donated by the Vietnamese Association for Victims of Agent Orange in the Bang Village of the Bo Trach District, Quang Binh. She is the head of her household and her family’s primary caregiver. Speaking softly yet firmly, she looks to her late husband’s, Mr. Nguyen, portrait every few minutes throughout our conversation. There is discernible pain in her voice and we learn that Mr. Nguyen passed away in 2005 of stomach cancer.

From left to right: (top) Long’s daughter, Long, Long’s son, Long’s eldest daughter, Ms. Toa, and (bottom) Nam.

He joined the army before 1975 and was exposed to Agent Orange. The couple had six children, three of which are affected by Agent Orange: Nguyen Thanh Nam (40 years old), Nguyen Ngoc Thang (38 years old), and Nguyen Thanh Long (34 years old). Their other three children are now married and have moved away to live with their families. They were not affected by Mr. Nguyen’s Agent Orange exposure.

Nam (above) is the oldest son. He is the most severely affected by his father’s Agent Orange exposure. Nam has cerebral palsy and is quadriplegic. He receives Agent Orange compensation of 1.3M VND (~$55 USD) per month from the government. Nam spends the majority of his time lying on his bed. Ms. Toa carefully adjusts him every so often to prevent bedsores. She admits that caring for them is becoming more physically tolling.

Thang is married and lives with his family outside of Ms. Toa’s home. He suffers from peritonitis and cholecystitis and has had five surgeries so far. Thang receives 800,000 VND (~$35 USD) per month in Agent Orange compensation. Despite his physical ailments, Thang is doing considerably well thanks to his family’s support.

We spend most of the time discussing Long’s latest health challenges. He is sitting with us at the table but does not say a word. He has two daughters and one son, all of whom live with him and Ms. Toa. They climb over him, the sofa, and Ms. Toa as she speaks.

Long and his daughters stand in the doorway as we leave their home.

His wife works and lives in China but does not send them remittances. Ms. Toa explains that he has mental disabilities and epilepsy. The family went through all the procedures to get Agent Orange compensation for him in January 2018. Unfortunately, the state did not accept the application. They do not consider him an Agent Orange victim because his disabilities were revealed only a short time ago.

Long had his first epileptic episode in October 2016. Ms. Toa was forced to sell the cow that had been used to work in rice fields to pay for his six-month treatment in Hue. When Karen visited the family, Ms. Toa mentioned that their biggest expense with regard to his health condition was the cost of traveling. The medication Long was taking was covered by insurance. Fortunately, he is now able to receive treatment at the local clinic (meaning there are fewer traveling costs) but, and very unfortunately, the medication he had been taking is no longer effective. Long is now taking a new medication and it is not covered by insurance.

Ms. Toa bears the heavy burden of providing and caring for her family. She is keenly aware that they are all unable to work in the fields and is not currently engaged in any sustainable income generating activities (although she’d like to be). The family lives of the assistance from their neighbors and the state (i.e. Nam’s social allowance and her widow subsidy).

She has consulted with Mr. Tuan, an AEPD Outreach Worker, and would like to rear a cow. Having raised cows before, she is familiar and comfortable with the process. She feels cow rearing, more specifically, for calf and fertilizer sales, is the most sustainable form of livelihood for her family. The income generated will pay for Long’s medical treatment (traveling and new medicine), food, and other household needs. Without this business plan and the resources to implement it, Ms. Toa will continue to rely on the aid of her community and will not be able to generate a sustainable source of income for years to come.

***

Ms. Toa and her family (missing Nam).

The Agent Orange Campaign model works to provide a sustainable source of income for the beneficiary families. An income they can rely on for years to come that is either independent of other income-generating activities or not. If you read through her profile (above), you likely noticed that she had a cow and sold it to support her son’s medical treatment.

Even though she had every right and reason to sell her cow, this detail may be disconcerting to friends of AP being asked to support her next cow-rearing activity. But it shouldn’t be. Ms. Toa has steadily and (in many ways) singlehandedly supported her family for the last two decades. What she chose to do with her previous cow was her decision, and her decision alone.

In this situation, however, Ms. Toa will be entering a partnership with AEPD and is bound to implement the business plan to its fullest extent for the next two years. The business plan helps implement the activity, ensures its longevity, and supports the beneficiary’s financial literacy and therefore longterm savings/investment. Mr. Tuan, the Outreach Worker, will check in with Ms. Toa periodically (as he does with all Campaign beneficiaries) on the successes and challenges associated with implementing the plan.

After the two years are over, Ms. Toa will be strongly encouraged to continue the cow-rearing model in the way that suits her best. For example, she may decide to sell the cow once it has produced as many calves as possible and keep a female calf. (See here for more information on the cow-rearing model.) However, because it is a partnership, she will always be required to obtain AEPD’s permission if she decides to sell the original cow for any reason. Thus, the partnership is an important part of the model as it holds the beneficiary, AEPD, and AP accountable.

Based on my observations and conversations, Ms. Toa is fully committed to the plan and to investing in her family’s future.

Mama Caleb and Mama Faith; Two Women Quilting for a Cause

July 26, 2018 3:11 am 5 Comments

“When the sun rose, you didn’t know whether you’d live to see it set. If you saw the sunset, you knew you had another eight hours of life.” Esther Lenosilale, more commonly known as “Mama Caleb”, talks about the conflict while bouncing a baby on her knee. The CPI team and I are at her home in Samburu County, stopping by to visit her so that we can gather the quilting squares she has been sewing for the past year for the Advocacy Project quilt project. While there, I asked her to explain how the conflict impacted her life.

Mama Caleb with her 6 adopted children

“We would go days without food. We had to run away and leave all of our crops and harvests.” Unfortunately, Mama Caleb’s story was the norm for both Samburu and Pokot families during the conflict; even those that tried to farm were forced to flee and returned only to ashes after the raiders burned their homes and crops. CPI Kenya’s data collection found that on average, families were only able to harvest 2.2 bags of corn during the conflict. A bag of corn is about 90kgs/200lbs, and can sell for up to 4,500KSH/$45.00 USD. Today, the same families average 43.8 bags of corn.

“I don’t even want to remember. We slept under the trees and got rained on…so many children died from sleeping outside at nights, exposed to the weather.” Mama Caleb looks down at her hands where she holds a quilting square that she sewed of an orange camel, gathers herself, and continues. “My father and one of my grandchildren died. My father got an infection in his leg while sleeping in the bush, and my grandchild caught pneumonia. Both should have been very preventable, but because of the conflict we had to stay in the bush and keep hiding, and both passed away.”

These are the stories of conflict that are often under-reported and known only by the family members. While many Pokot and Samburu men, women, and children died from direct warfare, who knows how many deaths occurred because of the collateral effects of conflict.

Interviewing Mama Caleb

Despite the horrors that Mama Caleb lived through, she is still a bright, ever-smiling woman. When I asked her what she enjoys doing, she replied that she likes to pray, go to church, and taking care of children. She had six children who have now grown into adults, but since she loves kids so much she has adopted six more children. The six children cluster around her, never more than a couple meters away from her throughout our whole visit at her home. “My age-mates are all old…but I look and feel young because of children!” she cheerily replies.

Today, Mama Caleb makes her living from farming and having a small herd of cows and goats. Despite being a widow (her husband died from kidney failure some years back), she is able to provide for her six young children and give them a safe home. Why? “Because of the peace!” she says. “I am so happy about the peace. There is TOTAL peace! Even the Pokot and Samburu herders and shepherds live and work side by side.” Again, her statement is backed up by our Monitoring and Evaluation (M&E); 100% of surveyed Pokot and Samburu families confirm that their livestock graze in both Samburu and Pokot lands, that there is sharing of pasture and water, and that people are able to move freely and safely from their tribal lands to the other tribe’s lands.

To a Western audience, and especially to people who have never lived through conflict, these findings may sound obvious or unimpressive. But keep in mind that just eight years ago these lands were an active conflict zone. In 2010 if a Samburu shepherd took his livestock herd to Pokot lands so they could drink water there, he would have been killed and all his livestock stolen, and vice versa. Today, the freedom of movement is not taken for granted by the Pokot and Samburu tribes. As we leave Mama Caleb’s home, she bids farewell by saying “I just want to say thank you to CPI for bringing peace through children. I have made so many new Pokot friends through the peace, and I thank God and CPI for our second chance at life.”

Mama Faith showing one of her quilt squares; each square takes 7-10 days to sew

Our second quilt artist is Joyce Leririo, more commonly known as “Mama Faith”. She is a shy, reserved Samburu woman who received a shared Heifer for Peace in 2015 with her Pokot family “Friends for Peace,” the Mamkong family. Unfortunately, the heifer died due to the severe drought in 2016-2017, but she and the Mamkong’s are still friends and their daughters, who became friends in CPI Kenya’s 2012 Peace Camp, still visit each other every school holiday.

Mama Faith tells us with pride how all seven of her children are in school, three of which are in secondary school (high school). In Kenya, only primary school is free; in order for a child to attend secondary school, the family has to pay tuition fees. Often times the fees are too expensive for families to afford, and the children have to drop out. Mama Faith tells us how she is able to pay for the secondary school fees because she is farming 1.5 acres of land and running a small sewing business. During the conflict she couldn’t farm or do business at all, and her children had to drop out of school for three years because it was too dangerous from them to walk to and from school every day.

Mama Faith

“They were so happy to go back to school once there was peace, and I was so happy too. They now school without interruption, we are able to again eat three meals a day, and everyone’s health has improved because of food and because we have peace of mind” explains Mama Faith.

When I tell her that her quilting squares will be made into a quilt in the United States and if she wants to send a message with them, she shyly laughs and says that she sends her greetings and hopes her beadwork is enjoyed. She also said that she’d like an American quilt as a gift in return!

Mama Caleb and Mama Faith are just two of the dozens of families we interviewed while in Samburu County, yet they all tell a similar story of strength, hope, and faith. They are smart, independent women who have had to overcome incredible obstacles. Neither have power or running water in their homes, they don’t have a formal education, and they have never traveled outside Samburu County. They both have been exposed to so much hardship, and have learned to take absolutely nothing for granted. Yet they’re still smiling and thankful for what they do have, and they both vowed to never let things return to the way they were before.

Mama Faith proudly donning her traditional Samburu necklaces and insisting that I wear her traditional Samburu headband!

The squares that Mama Caleb and Mama Faith sewed will be made into a quilt by partners of the Advocacy Project. After it is made, it will be put on display in the United States to raise awareness of CPI Kenya’s work with pastoralist communities in Northern Kenya. To learn more about Advocacy Project’s “Advocacy Quilts”, visit their website.

Want to see more photos? Check out my Flickr Album!

Lack of Sexual Health Education Drives Child Marriage

July 21, 2018 6:28 am 4 Comments

Mudiwa married and left school at age 18 after an unintended pregnancy.

For the past two months, The Woman Advocacy Project (WAP) has been investigating the root causes of child marriage in Zimbabwe. To date, we have conducted 136 interviews with women and girls in and around Harare and asked about their lives, their families, the challenges they face, and their hopes for the future. We have supplemented these interviews with additional consultations with educators, religious leaders, and government officials. Here you will get the detailed idea about is sex reduce weight?

My next few posts will discuss the key findings from these interviews. In particular, I’ll talk about how Zimbabwe’s ongoing financial crisis, high educational costs, and critical lack of sexual education are interconnected factors that drive child marriage.

Roughly a third of girls in Zimbabwe marry before their eighteenth birthdays. WAP’s consultations have shown that limited knowledge of sexual and reproductive health greatly increases the risk of early marriage.

According to UNFPA, only 4% of Zimbabwean girls between the ages of ten and nineteen have a comprehensive understanding of pregnancy. The same report found that sexual education in school is rare and that 43% of parents do not talk to their children about sex.

These statistics are borne out by the stories of many of the women WAP interviewed. Sexual topics are taboo subject in Zimbabwe, and interviewees were generally uncomfortable speaking about the topic. The vast majority of women who became pregnant as teenagers said that their pregnancies were unintended. One post from PlugLust actually made very sense regarding this issue. The immaturity and stigma that is coming from the society is one of the major reasons why we as a supposed civilized population continue to make the same mistakes regarding the sexual health of individual, whether they are active or are not.

A woman named Ruth who lives in Harare’s Hopley suburb told WAP that she married at age 16 after discovering she was pregnant. Mudiwa, a young woman living in Epworth, told us: “I left school when I got pregnant… When my father found out, he chased me away saying, ‘I do not want to see you.’ So, I had to get married. I was eighteen.”

Chipo left school at age 16 after an unintended pregnancy. “My boyfriend ran away to South Africa when he found out,” she told WAP. Chipo gave birth two weeks before this photograph was taken.

Rates of teen pregnancy in Zimbabwe are notably high. A quarter of Zimbabwean girls aged 15–19 have been pregnant; 48% of these pregnancies are unplanned. Tinotenda, a woman we spoke to in Hopley, married at age 17 after discovering that she was pregnant. “My boyfriend was the one who told me that I was pregnant; I didn’t know about those things then,” she said. When Tinotenda’s father learned of the pregnancy, he threw her out of the house and she had no choice but to marry. Now 37 years old, Tinotenda has five children. “Before I got pregnant, I just wanted to go to school, support my family and my mother. Now I want to work so I can send my children to school. I don’t want them to lack knowledge.”

Unintended pregnancy severely limits girls’ opportunities and hinders their abilities to reach their full potentials, even in cases when the unintended pregnancy does not result in child marriage. Memory was in her first year at Bindura University studying banking and finance when she got pregnant. “My ambition was to become a financial manager and start my own business. I did not intend to have a baby,” she told WAP. “I’m not married; I don’t know where the father is.” Memory dropped out of her program and moved back to the Mbare neighborhood, where she lives with her mother and supports herself by selling frozen popsicles in the market.

Stories like these have lead the Woman Advocacy Project to consider a new approach to child marriage prevention. For the past three years, WAP has run anti-child marriage trainings in and around Harare. Consistently, these programs have shown that girls themselves are the most effective educators about the dangers of child marriage. When they are equipped with knowledge and confidence, they can be powerful agents for change in their communities.

This year, the Woman Advocacy Project is launching the Ambassadors Against Child Marriage fellowship. The fellowship is an innovative youth leadership program that aims to reduce child marriage by addressing its root causes, especially the widespread lack of comprehensive sexual and reproductive health education in Zimbabwe.

Ruth married and left school at age 16 after an unintended pregnancy.

In the coming months, WAP will recruit and train five talented young women to work as Ambassadors. As part of their Ambassadorship, these girls will mentor other young women in their communities, create safe opportunities for girls to ask questions about reproductive health, and provide one-on-one counseling to equip their peers with the knowledge necessary to make responsible, safe, and informed decisions about their bodies and health.

Ambassadors will provide targeted training sessions about sexual education, safe sex, contraception, consent, STIs and HIV/AIDS. They will also be prepared with information about free and affordable health care services in their community for girls who need specific medical assistance.

The Ambassadors program is rooted in the principle that girls themselves are in the best position to be able to educate their peers about sensitive and culturally taboo issues like reproductive health. WAP believes that this approach has the potential to keep girls like Ruth and Mudiwa healthy and out of marriage, while also training the next generation of women’s rights leaders.

Names and identifying details in this story have been changed.

You Can Teach an Old Dog New Tricks

July 20, 2018 8:26 am 7 Comments

Samburu County, Kenya

Samburu County in Northern Kenya is absolutely beautiful. I am 99% sure that the artists for the Disney movie “The Lion King” visited it to draw inspiration from the landscape when creating the movie. The vast green hills roll with tall green and yellow grasses, there are mountains in the distance, and the low green bushes and trees are exactly how I imagined Kenya would look like. But this beautiful landscape was a battlefield just 7 years ago.

Children Peace Initiative (CPI) Kenya has been working in Samburu County with the Samburu and Pokot tribes since 2012. The conflict between the Samburu and Pokot started in 2005 and ravaged the lands until 2012 when CPI Kenya intervened and held their first of four Peace Camps for Pokot and Samburu children. From 2012-2016, CPI Kenya held a Peace Camp every year for the children. This not only ended the conflict but also created a harmonious, peaceful coexistence between the two tribes. They don’t just live separately and no longer fight; they live together. They rely on each other now. They inter-marry. They visit each other. They hold a weekly market for each other and conduct business and trade with each other. Their cattle graze in both Samburu and Pokot lands. They own animals together. They pray for each other. And they love each other. The communities truly have been transformed, and it is because of the work CPI Kenya did with their children.

Samburu County, Kenya

For the past nine days, the CPI Kenya team and I have been in Samburu County meeting with the families who received a shared Heifer for Peace in 2015. These beneficiaries shared not only valuable data that helps quantify the impact of CPI Kenya’s work here but also shared some incredibly moving stories. Programs are put into place in order to assist these people in gaining back their independence and getting employed. They can go to driving school, or electrician trade school, and there are several other courses that will train you in different vocations. With these new qualifications it is easy to get a job from a number of factories and businesses in the area, so they can regain full control of their life.

Malatu (left) and Losuke (right) embrace upon their reunion

I had the pleasure to interview two fathers’ whose sons attended CPI Kenya’s Peace Camp in 2012. Their names were Malatu Lebenayo, who is Samburu, and Losuke Lonyangaking, who is Pokot. Because of the conflict, both of these men lost their homes. Both were unable to farm and grow food for their families. Both of these men’s children had to drop out of school because it was too dangerous to attend. Both lost cattle due to raids. Both had their children sleep with their shoes on at night, in case they had to flee from a raid and hide in the bush. And both blamed the other tribe for the struggles and losses their families had to endure.

Watch the video of Malatu and Losuke being reunited by CPI Kenya! (Due to living approximately 16 miles apart, having no transport, and both being 60+ years of age, Malatu and Losuke only see each other every 2-3 months. We brought Malatu from his village to visit Losuke during one of our trips to Pokot lands)

After seven years of fighting, Malatu and Losuke were a part of the brave group of parents who allowed their children to attend Peace Camp and interact with children from the other tribe. Their sons, John and Topote became friends at Peace Camp, and came home inspired by their friendship and the possibility that they could be the ones to bring peace to their communities. Through John and Topote, Malatu and Losuke met and began to warm towards each other. Through a series of engagements and interactions fostered by CPI Kenya, Malatu and Losuke grew to become best friends. “I was 60-some years old and had never entered a Pokot home until CPI Kenya came” said Malatu. “Now we are kin. This friendship is going to last – we make it stronger every day.”

“Kabisa! Kabisa!” (“Total! Total!”) Losuke and Malatu’s answer to my questions about integration and trust between their two tribes

In 2015 Losuke and Malatu received a shared Heifer for Peace, through CPI Kenya’s Heifers for Peace program. This shared heifer solidified the friendship formed between the two families through the children, and now their bond is unbreakable. To pastoralists, a cow is sacred; cows are a part of their identity and are their livelihood. So when Losuke and Malatu decided that Malatu would keep and raise the heifer, and that Losuke would receive the first calf it gives birth to, their pastoralist bond was fortified. Sure enough, their Heifer for Peace gave birth to a calf a few months ago, and Malatu handed over this calf to Losuke. When I asked them if there were any problems with their sharing the heifer, both vehemently responded “No! None!” Losuke went on to say “I trusted Malatu to take good care of the heifer. And he did. And now I have a calf because of him!” They then shook hands again, and shared a look only best friends can share.

The benefits of their shared Heifer for Peace will continue for the rest of these men’s lives; a cow can give birth up to 12 times in its lifetime, so that means Malatu and Losuke could each receive six more calves from their one shared Heifer for Peace. Essentially, a family’s cattle herd can be completely rebuilt and repopulated by one heifer, and this is the opportunity CPI Kenya provided these men.

Amani! Amani!

When I asked Malatu and Losuke why CPI Kenya’s approach to peacebuilding worked, compared to all the multiple other governmental and NGO failed attempts, Malatu answered simply. “The peace is fair, not political. We accepted the peace because of the friendships and all the suffering from before. And then we proved to each other that we’re trustworthy because of the Heifers for Peace.”

Malatu and Losuke are why I titled this blog “You Can Teach an Old Dog New Tricks”. Not to emphasize their age (sorry, gents!), but to show how entire communities have been transformed by CPI Kenya’s work. By working with children, both the Pokot and the Samburu have overcome a lifetime of prejudice, forgiven the sins of each other’s tribes, and embraced each other through peace. Just seven years ago these men were at war, and today they call themselves brothers. “Our friendship is from the heart. Even the way we embrace each other comes from the heart” says Losuke. And it’s true.

Donations = Heifers = Peace!

To help CPI Kenya purchase 50 Heifers for Peace for 50 Pokot and 50 Samburu families whose children went to Peace Camp in 2015, please donate! All donations are tax deductible.

Want to see more photos? Check out my Flickr Album!

With Education comes Freedom

July 19, 2018 1:25 pm 3 Comments

Tharu women taking part in the discussion about there previous life as bonded labourers and on their current needs and desires. (Ghorahi/LC)

After a quite adventurous travel, Michelle and I arrived safe and sound in Tulsipur. It is in this little town from Dang region, western Nepal, that is located the main office of the non-profit organisation, Backward Education Society (BASE). Michelle is the Peace Fellow for BASE and her mission is to analyse the needs on the ground in order to develop a social initiative that AP can support. Since BASE also used to advocate child labour, it was decided that I would accompany Michelle on her journey to Dang and help her to settle in.

A Tharu woman taking part in the discussion about vocational training and financial sustainability in Besahi village. (Ghorahi/LC)

From non-violent movement to a leading “human rights” organisation

I am quite amazed about BASE’s achievements. It first emerged as a non-violent movement advocating for the rights of the Tharu community in western Nepal, in particular to put an end to the bonded labour system, known as kamaiya, the community was trapped in since generations. Its founder, Mr. Dili Chaudhary was in his teen years when he started a small initiative to raise awareness about this modern slavery system. Its movement took shape and is now a successful organisation focusing on human rights – especially women and children’s rights – and developing various programs dealing with education, ecology, and humanitarian help. One of BASE’s main successes is the campaign to free kamlaris, these Tharu girls that were send from a very young age to work for landlords that often physically and mentally abused them.

For more information regarding kamlari and the kamaiya system, and more generally the Tharu community, please refer to Michelle’s blog Daughters of the Tharu, that offers an excellent insight on the issue.

Sushma in front of her house she could afford with BASE’s support in Besahi village. (Ghorahi/LC)

Rescued but powerless

In accordance with BASE’s originate work in favour of the marginalised Taru community, our first field trip led us in Besahi village, surrounding Ghorahi, the capital city of Dang, where many Tharu people are settled. What the villagers told us, confirmed what BASE’s executive director already mentioned: the kamaiya system as such has mostly been eradicated. The kamlaris we met had all been rescued a few years after the government passed a law in 2000 forbidding bonded labour. From the vulnerable children they were, they became young women that are today between 20 and 30 years of age. However, a new form of bonded labour appeared over the time directly resulting from their previous domestic slavery. The years spend as domestic servants prevented kamlaris to go to school. Today, even though they have been rescued, previous kamlaris of Besahi village remain powerless because of illiteracy. The income generated by their work on the land is not enough and they do not have the skills to start a business or any other kind of activity. As a consequence, they need to borrow money from landlords to cover some expenses, and to work for them if they are not able to reimburse. This situation follows the path of exploitation they have suffered from over generations.

Maya with her daughter in front of her house in Besahi village. She would like to become a teacher at a Montessori school. (Ghorahi/LC)

With education comes freedom

The Tharu women from Besahi village are dreaming about learning how to read and write, no matter their age. Once basic skills are acquired, they hope being able to do something else than working on land or for landlords. Cooking in a hotel, making and selling carpets, teaching in a Montessori school, working in auto mecanics, opening a little sewing shop, these are all trades they wish to ply if they get the chance to attain training sessions.

Escaping poverty and dependence through education is a fact that no one would contest. Education empowers. Sushma, Maya, Somat and Rosani are very aware of that and despite difficulties to afford school fees for their children, they make sure these are going to school. In Besahi village no child is enrolled in labour or stays at home.

An elderly woman from the Tharu community living in Besahi village, not far away from Ghorahi, the capital of Dang region in western Nepal. (Ghorahi/LC)

Besides family awareness, this new generation of kids that has been born and grew up following the end of the kamaiya system, are benefitting from BASE’s successful non-violent movement that pressured the government and helped free kamlaris and drastically decreased child labour in this sector. The process to achieve these results was not an easy one. Over years, activists were advocating on every single level – private, local, district, region, national – to raise awareness and confront landlords and politicians with their responsibilities, they ensured children had gradually access to education and were not dropping out, used their large network of ground activists to control households and made sure than landlords and hotel owners did not continue to employ children through regular unannounced visits. These three elements, advocacy, education sustainability and regular controls, were the fundaments of BASE’s success.

Two young women from the Tharu community participating in our discussion about the village’s needs and their professional wishes. (Ghorahi/LC)

Now that I am back to Kathmandu, I hope that what I saw and learned during these few days with Michelle, will help me with my work with CONCERN, and help Michelle to develop a concept of vocational training and remedial classes in her mission with BASE.

Moment of joy between Michelle and an elderly Tharu woman in Besahi village, Dang Region. (Ghorahi/LC)

So, why a cow?

10:02 am 2 Comments

During my first field visit to the Tuyen Hoa and Bo Trach districts I met with Mr. Thin, Mr. Phuc, and Ms. Toa’s family. To my surprise, all three families, in partnership with their AEPD Outreach Worker, have selected cow rearing as their business model. (Point of clarification: Mr. Thin’s plan is currently being funded, Mr. Phuc’s plan has just been funded in July 2018, and Ms. Toa’s family has just been profiled in January 2018.)

So, why a cow? To be fair, each family has the opportunity to elect any business model that works best for them and their needs. The cow rearing business model happens to be popular among the campaign’s beneficiaries for several reasons. Most of the caregivers the campaign supports are aging and cannot feasibly manage intensive manual labor as well as they used to. Cow rearing represents a manageable and sustainable endeavor for them.

How does the cow rearing model work? For these three families, it begins with the purchase of a female cow and calf. In other situations, the beneficiaries may select a male cow. The female cow and calf’s purpose and benefits are multi-faceted. Among the benefits is the utility of the cow’s manure for the owner’s land and the additional income the families can earn by selling the calves. (A female cow can typically produce up to eight calves in her lifetime.) When possible, the beneficiaries receive both a female cow and calf to help them get a head start.

Part I. A graphic on how a cow is identified and selected after the cow rearing business model is chosen. The critical assumptions of this model and the Agent Orange Campaign are two-fold: (1) the family is in need of a sustainable source of income and (2) the business model is developed with three key characteristics in mind—feasibility, longevity, and sustainability.

On occasion, depending on the circumstances and the cow’s condition, the family will decide to sell the cow and keep the calf. For example, if the calf is a male, he may be used to work in the fields (either the family’s or rented out to neighboring farmers). Or, if the calf is a female and the cow is nearing the end of her reproductive years, they may keep the calf to bear more calves and sell the cow. The cycle continues.

Part II. The utility of a female versus a male cow based on the beneficiary family’s identified needs. AEPD and AP recognize that the family’s needs may change over time and that they are agents of their business plan. The AEPD Outreach Worker and AP Peace Fellow will continue to monitor the family’s progress and evaluate the outcome and eventually impact of the Campaign. The utility of the cow rearing model is non-linear and does not restrict the number of cows the family will eventually have at any given point in time.

Thus, the cow rearing business plan is a powerful tool for sustainable development, income generation, and financial literacy. It is our hope that through this program and these outcomes, the beneficiaries – Agent Orange-affected families – will have an improved quality of life especially as they age and continue to care for their loved ones. We are committed to monitoring and evaluating the progress of this program and supporting additional families to come.

So, why a cow? Because (simply put) it’s a sustainable and, often, familiar livelihood that is accessible and impactful to Agent Orange-affected families. Are you interested in supporting a cow rearing business model? Click here to invest in our tenth campaign beneficiary, Mr. Thin’s family, and their plans to raise a cow and a calf.

#10: Mr. Nguyen Ngoc Thin and family

July 11, 2018 11:09 am 1 Comment

I had the pleasure of going on my first field trip on the fourth of July to the Tuyen Hoa district with Mr. Hoc (an AEPD Outreach Worker), Ngoc (AEPD staff), and Ashley and Seanin (summer interns from Canada). We met with Mr. Thin’s family—the tenth and latest Agent Orange Campaign beneficiary.

What is the Agent Orange Campaign? The Agent Orange Campaign supports families affected by Agent Orange in the Quang Binh province by connecting them to an AEPD Outreach Worker and resources. By collaborating with an Outreach Worker, they are able to develop a business plan for sustainable income generation. Read my introductory blog here for a more in-depth look into the Campaign and my role for the next six months.

In the spirit of responsible and ethical storytelling, I thought it best to introduce Mr. Thin and his family through a photo diary. I firmly believe in the power of photography as I find that words often fail to faithfully capture reality.

We arrived at Mr. Nguyen Ngoc Thin’s home around 10:00am after a three-hour drive from Dong Hoi City. The air was hot, the landscape lush, and the raw cement floor refreshing. He welcomed us into the home and instantly shared their experiences as a family affected by Agent Orange and the plans he and Mr. Hoc had developed in January when Karen (Advocacy Project staff) met with them for the first time.

Since Karen’s visit in January, Mr. Thin has been able to secure a loan for grapefruit and banana tree seeds and plant them. During this visit, the business plan was updated to reflect these accomplishments and determine estimated revenue, costs, profits, and the remaining need. It was determined that the family needed a cow and a calf. The female cow’s manure will be used to fertilize the crops; the calf will be sold for income, as will the following seven calves she is expected to bear. The income from the calf sales and the crops will be used to support the household, purchase food and medicine, and begin repaying the loan.

Ms. Cao Thi Loan, Mr. Thin’s wife, poses for a portrait.

She has been listening intently while Mr. Hoc and Mr. Thin discuss the business plan and next steps. Occasionally she interrupts to add her perspective and then retreats to check in on Lam and Phan and finish preparing lunch. No one mistakes her silence for complacency, as we are keenly aware that she is a strong woman and a partner in this household.

Mr. Thin and Ms. Loan are the primary caregivers of their sons, Nguyen Van Phan (23 years old) and Nguyen Van Lam (30 years old). Their sons’ quality of life is severely impacted by their cerebral palsy associated with the couple’s environmental exposure to Agent Orange. They had five children, all with cerebral palsy. Lam and Phan are the surviving two. Nevertheless, it is obvious that Mr. Thin and Ms. Loan take good care of their sons–keeping them clean and preserving their dignity.

Unfortunately, the family is ineligible to receive government-funded Agent Orange compensation because Mr. Thin joined the army after 1975. Instead, the family receives social assistance for persons with disabilities but it is not enough to maintain the household.

Mr. Thin carefully adjusts Phan’s head before posing for the family portrait (above).

Mr. Thin supports the family through agriculture; in addition to the 600 banana and grapefruit trees he has recently planted, he currently maintains 20 grapefruit trees and keeps two pigs. He mentions that while there has been no change in Lam and Phan’s health, he and his wife are aging and are no longer very healthy. Unfortunately, they are only able to access treatment in the local clinic because the hospital is far away and they cannot leave their sons alone.

Lam and Phan spend the majority of their time enveloped by their hammocks. This is the most secure place for them to stay. The family has found that they otherwise roll off beds and injure themselves. It allows Ms. Loan, as their primary caregiver, some peace of mind.

As we chat and I take additional photographs, we notice two wheelchairs in the corner. The family was gifted them by a chapter of the Red Cross in the district. Ms. Loan explains that she fastens them to their wheelchairs and takes them outside for sunshine. Although she does that fairly often, she continues, it is difficult to ensure their safety.

Lam is the family’s oldest surviving son. His hammock is nearest the window. The sun gently beams against his skin as he sways. I greet him as I approach and he repeats “Hello”. Ms. Loan mentions that he repeats sounds he hears but does not understand them. His eyes track the camera as we continue to engage with him, Phan, and Ms. Loan.

Mr. Thin had slipped out at some point during our conversation with them to obtain local authority approval for our visit. Mr. Hoc explains that we will meet him at the station. We say goodbye to them and see ourselves out. As we are leaving, I glance back at them and see Ms. Loan swiftly, yet gently, lifting Lam from his hammock onto the mat where she will feed him lunch. It feels so natural, so practiced and then I remember she has been doing this for the last 30 years.

It was a privilege to meet Mr. Thin and his family and I am thrilled to collaborate with them throughout my fellowship. AEPD and AP have launched a crowdfunding campaign to support Mr. Thin’s business plan. Please consider joining them as they invest in their future.

For more photographs of the field visit and Mr. Thin’s family, click here.

For an in-depth profile of the Thin family, click here.

For more on the Association for the Empowerment of Persons with Disabilities (AEPD), Advocacy Project’s partner in Vietnam, click here.

The Problem is not the Law

4:55 am 10 Comments

Children representatives of Nepal’s 7 regions are taking part in the National Conference of Child Participation 2018, organised by Consortium Nepal. (Kathmandu/LC)

One can often feel the law is not working with their best interests in mind.

I wonder how true that is though. Were you the one that caused the incident you complained about? Are you lying? Are you truly not at all responsible?

If that is the case, you’ll want to get in touch with a personal injury lawyer to help you out. A personal injury attorney is a lawyer who provides legal services to those who claim to have been injured, physically or psychologically, as a result of the negligence of another person, company, government agency or any entity, personal injury lawyer primarily practice in the area of law known as tort law. Examples of common personal injury claims include injuries from slip and fall accidents, traffic collisions, defective products, workplace injuries and professional malpractice, but if you are ever in a car accident, then you should consider hiring a different lawyer by visiting lawboss.com.

What do you do in the event that you get yourself involved in an car accident? No one would ever think of getting involved in accident, but the fact is that it holds the potential to happen any moment without a prior notice. As a matter of fact, vehicles can develop some mechanical faults at any unexpected moments, due to which we have less success in completely eliminating car accidents from occurring. You can contact to Angell Law Firm’ car accident attorney for further details. It is important and highly advisable that in a situation when you get involved in accident, you take certain measures to seek some form of compensation and settlements from the case. One of the very things that come into mind when this happens is the idea of consulting car accident attorneys. It is indeed a step, which will take you in the right direction as one can’t undermine the importance of attorneys on such matters. Since, they are professional attorneys specialized in accident laws, they are able to give you useful suggestions to help you in your quest for justice. The aim of this article is to discuss some of the factors, which are worth considering before choosing car accident attorneys for your prospective case. This process can be more demanding than you might think it to be. The considerations you make are to guide while choosing the right attorney for your case. Read more at https://www.lawyer-monthly.com/2022/06/the-difference-between-wills-and-trusts/ .

In the first place, you are required to ask your family and friends. In other words, you are advised to adopt the referral system. Someone who has been in this situation will be able to make a good recommendation for your benefit. Moreover, it will help build trust on an unknown car accident attorney, who has rendered good services in the past. However, in this case, the internet could also be a good source for locating potential attorneys.

The term “trial lawyers” is used to refer to personal injury attorney firms, even though many other types of lawyers, including defense lawyers and criminal prosecutors also appear in trials and even though most personal injury claims are settled without going to trial.

There are many types of accidents that come under the ambit of personal injury. Most of these accidents take place because of the negligence of another person but you and your loved ones usually have to bear the brunt of it unless you can get the assistance of a talented Personal Injury Lawyers. Most companies or people who have caused accidents will not voluntarily give money as compensation, and even if they do the amount is sure to be less than what you deserve.

These accidents range from ones that you receive while at work to others that you get while at leisure. For instance, you might be incapacitated because of certain materials you have been exposed to at work or might suffer a fall at your office because of an uneven stair. Ironically, your employer might even terminate your employment because of injuries that you have suffered at the workplace! Similarly, you might get injured because of a collision with another vehicle or because the road you were traveling on was not maintained.

It is very important for you to contact the best possible personal injury lawyer as soon as you have suffered an accident because this is in your best interests. You should ensure that only the best lawyers handle your case because shoddy legal help can actually weaken your case. It is tragic to think about the people who jeopardized their chances to get a substantial monetary compensation for their injuries only because they failed to get a good team of injury lawyers.

You need an personal injury lawyer who has the ability to fight your case doggedly because that is what it sometimes takes to get a person or organization to make a large payment for damage that they have caused to you. You deserve nothing but the very best legal representation, which includes a lawyer who will go to great lengths to win your case.

The personal injury lawyer you hire should have the most comprehensive knowledge of the legal system as well as plenty of experience handling a whole lot of personal injury litigations. In addition, the personal injury lawyer needs to have empathy in dealing with your case. It also helps if you contact the best BC injury lawyers because the reputation of your legal team will help influence the other party’s willingness to offer a handsome settlement.

Select your personal injury lawyer with a great deal of care because your future and that of your family depends on it. Besides, you are hardly asking for anything that you do not deserve. Most legal firms will not charge you for the initial consultation. In fact, there are some that will only charge you if you receive a settlement in compensation for your injuries. Go right ahead and hire the best lawyer you can find so that you get the best possible compensation for your injuries.

It has been challenging to tolerate the dozens of street dogs fighting and yelling at each other at every hour of the night (reminds me how impressed I was as a child about dogs communicating over miles, in the Disney cartoon 1001 Dalmatians), but I generally wake up at 5am when my neighbours one after the other ring the bell for the morning puja. I got used to wear a mask, like everyone here, due to the heavy pollution and dust in Kathmandu, and enjoy the shower in the evening rubbing off all the dust accumulated over the day. I try to stay calm while walking 45 minutes to the office and being constantly horned by bikes, taxis, microbuses and trucks and trying not to be run over by these.

One of the best things is the children of any age greeting me in English or Nepali, during my journey up the hill to the office. They are smiling and giggling when I greet back, or they look proudly up to their parents, as if it has been a challenge to talk with a stranger, that looks like a western additionally.

One child representative presenting herself and the region she is originated from. (Kathmandu/LC)

Speaking about children, I promised in my last blog to post stories about my trips to the seven schools supported by CONCERN. Unfortunately, I had to postpone the school visits because of holidays. So I will not write about the kids I planned to meet, but about all the kids living in Nepal and especially about the 1.6 million that are trapped in labour exploitation.

Last week, I attended the National Conference on Child Participation organised by the Consortium Nepal (Consortium of Organizations Working for Child Participation) bringing together 38 organisations which CONCERN is a member of. Children representatives from Nepal’s 7 regions were also part of the conference. Child labour was part of the discussion, and during the two hours, the invited guests spoke about the difficulty to implement the many laws protecting children from work on a national and local level.

Children representatives of Nepal’s 7 regions are discussing about ways to improve child participation in the political discourse, at the National Conference of Child Participation 2018. (Kathmandu/LC)

Ms. Mohna Ansari, from the National Human Rights Commission, asks the Nepalese government to ensure that existing laws protecting children are being implemented. (Kathmandu/LC)

Special guest Ms. Mohna Ansari, from the National Human Rights Commission pointed out that adults are too much dominating children and that these children need to be given opportunity to raise their voice, adding that still too many children are working, especially in brick factories. She addressed the Chief guest Ms. Tham Maya Thapa, Minister for Women, Children and Social Welfare, on the reasons preventing the government to initiate an effective process that would lead to concrete implementation of existing laws. The latter one replied that the government is working on a new law on child protection that aims to be more inclusive regarding all kinds of child labour.

However, after hearing again and again that these laws already existing but not implemented, I wonder what a new law could improve.

Chief guest of the Conference on Child Participation is Ms. Tham Maya Thapa, Minister for Women, Children and Social Welfare. (Kathmandu/LC)

Since the conference was in Nepali, Prakash translated the most important points. Ms. Tham Maya Thapa did not explain how the existing laws could be implemented though. However, I recall Prakash telling me she was joking about children from rich Nepalese families that aren’t able to say where rice is produced, because they think “it comes from the local supermarket”.

To their disappointment, once the children’ were about to speak, the guests had already left. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to stay for the panel discussion either, but I asked for the presentations to be sent to me. To my disappointment this time, the presentations kept repeating what I already heard during the whole morning, that the Nepalese government is already advanced regarding children’s protection laws. Nothing about the way to proceed to its implementation, nothing about tackling the root causes.

After presenting himself and the child club he was from, the boy ironically joked about the sense of the minister’s intervention if she already had left when children finally picked up the word. (Kathmandu/LC)

Speaking about law, they are many national and international agreements, conventions and legal acts protecting children from working, such as the International Labour Organisation (ILO)’s leading agreements on the issue (1973 and 1999), and the Convention for the Rights of the Child (1989). But Nepal also passed many laws itself with leading agreements containing extensive rights relating to children (Comprehensive Peace accord 2006; Interim Constitution of Nepal 2007; Children’s Act but not comprehensive enough).

“How to make sure existing laws get implemented? How to dialogue with people who are part of the child labour industry? How to control persons, infrastructures to make sure they aren’t employing children anymore?”, I kept asking myself.

I hope finding answers about this crucial issue during the next few weeks and hope to be able to figure out which challenges need to be overcome to protect children effectively.

(Blog I wrote before going to Dang, a region of western Nepal, with another Peace Fellow, Michelle, who is working with BASE.)

Before the beginning of the conference, Chief guest Ms. Tham Maya Thapa, Minister for Women, Children and Social Welfare, lighted the candle, a sign of a blessed and prosperous meeting. (Kathmandu/LC)

Xin Chao from Vietnam!

July 6, 2018 4:14 am 4 Comments

Xin chao (hello)! My name is Marcela and I’m the Advocacy Project (AP) Peace Fellow working with the Association for Empowerment of Persons with Disabilities (AEPD) on the Agent Orange Campaign for the next six months.

Welcome to my corner of the Advocacy Project’s website. I arrived in Dong Hoi, Vietnam on June 26^th and, in keeping pace with my host organization, hit the ground running. I’m excited to introduce you to AEPD’s brilliant work with persons with disabilities in the Quang Binh Province.

The AEPD team is comprised of Ms. Nguyen Thi Thanh Hong (chairperson), Ms. Nguyen Thi Phuong Hao (program manager), Ms. Nguyen Thi Thao (chief accountant), and Ms. Le Thi Mai Ngoc (the project officer). They are pictured below from left to right.

In addition to the office team, AEPD employs outreach workers—persons with disabilities that act as liaisons who connect other persons with disabilities and their caregivers to AEPD’s programs and general support. AEPD is a highly effective and impactful organization due to its support and relationship with the outreach workers. This community-based approach is one of the things I admire most about AEPD.

The outreach workers from left to right: Mr. Nguyen Van Thuan, Mr. Truong Minh Hoc, and Mr. Hoang Van Luu. AEPD serves persons with disabilities in 8 districts in Quang Binh. Each outreach worker is responsible for at least one entire district. Mr. Hoc serves one of the farthest districts from Dong Hoi City; he travels nearly 3 hours on motorbike to get there. If you are curious to learn more about each outreach worker, I suggest checking out 2016 Peace Fellow Ai Hoang’s posts on Mr. Thuan, Mr. Hoc, and Mr. Luu!

AEPD manages a broad range of programs such as self-help groups for landmine survivors, a youth development program that trains persons with disabilities in mechanics and other vocational programs, projects for women with disabilities, microfinance endeavors, and, lastly, the AP-AEPD Agent Orange Campaign.

A brief graphic on how the Agent Orange Campaign works. The model depends on the collaboration between AEPD, AEPD outreach workers, AP, and AP Peace Fellows; it hinges on the beneficiary family’s participation and input. The Campaign is unique from other programs in that it offers the caregivers of Agent Orange-affected individuals an opportunity to determine the best and most sustainable income-generating activity for themselves. AP and AEPD facilitate the process.

As a Peace Fellow, I serve as the liaison between AP and AEPD regarding the Agent Orange Campaign. The campaign has collaborated with and successfully funded nine Agent Orange-affected families. Their profiles can be found here.

I am thrilled to support the tenth Agent-Orange affected family, Mr. Thin’s family, this summer!

I look forward to sharing more of my work, goals, and expectations to come. Keep an eye out for an upcoming post on my impressions after my first visit to the field this week.

A sincere thank you for joining me in this journey.

Cheers, Marcela

Daughter, Granddaughter, Sister, Cousin, Aunt, Niece

July 4, 2018 3:22 am 6 Comments

Daughter, Granddaughter, Sister, Cousin, Aunt, Niece. I am all of those things at once. Which one is my primary identity? Before my trip to Bardiya last week, I never thought about the answer to that question. Now, that question is at the forefront of my consciousness.

On November 22, 2006, the government of Nepal and the Communist Party of Nepal (Maoists) signed a Comprehensive Peace Agreement, bringing the ten year conflict to an end. After many political challenges, the government finally established the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) and the Commission on Investigation on Enforced Disappeared Persons (CIEDP) in February 2015. CIEDP has registered 3000 complaints related to enforced disappearances since its inception. NEFAD’s records indicate that at least 1350 people were forcibly disappeared.

Nyaya, or justice, includes truth, prosecutions, psychosocial support, and financial reparations. Of the 1350 families of the disappeared, approximately 300 have not yet received the official reparation amount of $10,000 USD. Quests for the truth about the forcibly disappeared involve exhumations of suspected mass grave areas which require time, financial resources, and appropriate personnel. Similarly, providing psychosocial support requires significant resources. To pursue prosecutions, there need to be laws criminalizing enforced disappearance, a drastic change in the culture of impunity, and significant political support. Therefore, financial reparations are the most concrete, least costly, and the least controversial form of justice the government can provide, hence their willingness to cooperate on that front.

The primary reason approximately 300 families have not yet received the reparation amount is internal family conflict and complexity that creates uncertainty about the appropriate recipient of the reparation money. If a woman’s spouse was disappeared and she remarries, she is considered a part of the new family and no longer eligible for the reparations. Reparations may go to the biological family of her former husband. Her loss, her suffering, and any other hardship she may have experienced as a result of losing her spouse is immediately discounted.

Radhe Krishna Tharu’s (left) daughter, Sita Tharu, was forcibly disappeared and killed. Here he is discussing reparations cases with Sarita Thapa (right) of NEFAD.

Another complicated case involves a son and daughter who were disappeared. Both were married and had their own families. After their disappearance, each of their spouses claimed for the reparation amount to support their families. In addition, the son and daughter’s parents also claimed for the reparation amount since they no longer have children to financially support them as they age and experience health issues. All of their claims are valid. Which identity of the forcibly disappeared individual should be prioritized? Son, husband, or father? Daughter, wife, or mother? Which relationship warrants the reparation amount?

While these cases have not yet been resolved, NEFAD has been working with the CIEDP to advocate for more thoughtful, gender sensitive policies and practices in regards to reparations. After my conversations with Sarita and Prabal, I know NEFAD will continue it’s incredibly important community-based advocacy work to ensure that each family’s case is thoughtfully resolved. If there’s anything I’ve learned about reparations policies and practices, it’s how important identity is. What happens when someone can’t be all their different identities simultaneously? Which identity should be prioritized?

Peace Camp and the Hummingbird

July 3, 2018 7:05 am 16 Comments

There is an old African story about a hummingbird and a jungle fire. It is told that a great fire started in the jungle, and all the animals fled from the jungle and crossed a river to safety. As they all watched the fire burn, they moaned and cried for the loss of their jungle and their homes. However, a hummingbird decided to try and do something; it flew to the river, collected a few drops of water in its beak, and flew to the fire to drop the water onto it. The hummingbird did this over and over again, while all the other animals watched in disbelief and said “Don’t bother, you’re not making a difference. You’re too tiny, your wings may get burned, you’re only bringing a few drops. There’s no point!” Finally, an animal asked the hummingbird “What do you think you’re doing?” The hummingbird replied, “I am doing the best that I can.”

This story is a simple yet powerful one; no matter how overwhelming the situation, there is always something you can do to help. No matter how insignificant the act may seem, at least action is being done to help. After spending the last seven days in the Kenyan bush in Baringo County, hosting the first-ever Peace Camp for Ilchamus and Pokot children, I know this story rings true for the work and the mission of Children Peace Initiative (CPI) Kenya; despite being an organization of only six people, they are working towards putting out the “jungle fire” of conflict between the warring pastoralist communities in Northern Kenya.

This past week has been impactful, inspirational, and also very hard; not just in the sense of struggling through the challenges that the Kenyan bush throws at you (no running water or toilets, no electricity, impassable roads, scorching hot days and very cold nights, and limited food, to name a few) but also emotionally. This week I witnessed first-hand the impact of conflict on communities and specifically on children, and was confronted head-on with the privileged upbringing I had compared to what these 256 Pokot and Ilchamus children face every day. Yet despite the struggles these children have endured, they are still happy, and they are still determined to bring peace to their communities. They want their voices to be heard. They want peace. And they want a chance to succeed.

CPI Kenya! Left to Right: Purity, Hilary, Francis, Monica, and myself

I’ll start from the beginning. On Monday, 25 June we set out from Nairobi for Baringo County. Baringo County is named after Lake Baringo, and hosts the Pokot, Ilchamus, Tugen, and Kikuyu tribes. It has one of the highest illiteracy rates in Kenya, the average family lives on $2USD a day, only 16% of the population has a high school education or higher, and the vast majority of families are pastoralists (livestock keepers). To read more about Baringo County, click here.

We arrived in the town of Marigat (140 miles north of Nairobi) around 10pm, and set out for final logistics meetings and errands on Tuesday the 26^th. I have heard the expression before that “the road to peace is never easy” and this proved true in the most literal way – while attempting to drive to one of the schools that was sending Ilchamus students to our Peace Camp, we got stuck in a mud pit less than 4km away from the school! With the help of local villagers, we had our Toyota Landcruiser 4×4 towed out of the pit by a tractor, and after crossing another river we finally arrived at the school to meet with the Headmaster.

Check out the video of us getting towed out!

After meeting with the headmaster, around 8pm we started driving back to Marigat. However, this time we faced another obstacle – the water levels of the river we crossed to get to the school had increased dramatically over the last few hours due to heavy rains, and it was now impassable. We decided to park and wait a few hours to see if the water levels went down, and sure enough, by 11pm we were able to cross. To say that there were a few prayers being said as we crossed that river is the understatement of the year! Finally, after getting back to Marigat around 12:30am, we tucked in for one final night of sleeping in an area with beds, running water, and electricity.

Watch the video of us crossing the river during daylight!

On Wednesday, June 27^th we bought all the food for the Peace Camp (shopping for food to cook over 1,300 meals during Peace Camp is no joke!) and finally loaded up to make the final 1.5-hour drive to Chepkalacha, the small bush village where we were hosting the Peace Camp. After being on the road (road = rocky dirt path) for about 45 minutes, we heard a loud “HISSSSSSSSSS” and sure enough, the right rear tire had popped. Like I said, the road to peace is not easy! After a quick tire change, handled masterfully by CPI Kenya’s driver and logistician Francis, we finally made it to Chepkalacha. Begin, Peace Camp.

Chepkalacha Village, Baringo County, Kenya

As I’ve written before, Peace Camp is the first stage of the peacebuilding work that CPI Kenya does amongst warring communities. They bring children in grades 5 and 6 together from two conflicting tribes and teach them how the friendships they make at Peace Camp have the power to transform their communities and bring peace to their tribes. If the children and families successfully maintain their friendships and foster peace between the two tribes, then after 2 years’ time they are gifted a shared heifer through CPI’s Heifers for Peace program.

This Peace Camp was held for Pokot and Ilchamus children from seven different schools, all of which have been affected because the two tribes have been in conflict since 2005. Before 2005, they had lived peacefully together in Baringo County. However, after a significant drought in 2005, a group of Pokot thieves (they are typically called “warriors” but I feel it’s important to call them what they really are – thieves) raided Ilchamus villages for their cattle, and there has been conflict and mistrust ever since. Conflict disrupts everything; many children at the Peace Camp had to drop out of school for years because it was too dangerous to go to school, they were forced from their homes and are still Internally Displaced Peoples (IDP’s), and for most of them, their whole lives had been lived in conflict. For all 256 children, this was the first time they had ever spoken to a member of the other tribe.

256 Pokot and Ilchamus children together for the first time since 2005

We kicked off Peace Camp Thursday morning, June 28^th and told the kids what they were here for: to bring peace to their communities. We tasked them with making a friend from the other tribe, and asked if any had already done this. Shockingly, about 40 kids stood up; after less than 12 hours, inter-tribal friendships had already started forming. Emotions flooded through me as these new friends bravely stood up in front of the other kids, nervously holding each other’s hands and looking to see what the reaction was from their fellow tribe members. We applauded their braveness and encouraged the other children to follow their example, and from there we started the various team building games and activities planned for Peace Camp.

Team building games with the children

Singing traditional Kenyan songs together

Over the next three days, we led the children through discussions about forgiveness, peace, and reconciliation. We played sports, we sang songs, we had silly interactions, and we had simulations of inter-tribal interactions and harmony. The transformation that took over the children was tangible and strong; seeing two Pokot and Ilchamus girls walk hand-in-hand to the river to wash their clothes, or to see two Pokot and Ilchamus boys share their food with each other was inspiring. To witness how, despite the hardships they have endured because of the wars of their tribes, they still accepted each other and wanted to be friends with each other was a lesson that could be learned by so many.

Watch this beautiful video of the children singing and dancing!

The new friendships and interactions have already started to impact the two communities. A teacher who accompanied her students from an Ilchamus school told me that the first two days of Peace Camp she fielded about 40 phone calls from the parents of her students, asking “Is my son/daughter okay? Are they safe? How are the Pokot treating them?” The teacher assured the parents that the children were safe, that they had been warmly welcomed, and that they were interacting and enjoying being with the Pokot children. After the first two days, she said the calls had stopped; word had already spread to the entire Ilchamus village that changes were happening between the Pokot and Ilchamus.

Having fun with the kids and teaching them about my favorite American football team, the Buffalo Bills!!

The next step in the peacebuilding process is the Holiday Exchange activity. Next month during the school holiday, all 256 Ilchamus and Pokot children will be hosted at an Ilchamus school (since the Peace Camp was held at a Pokot school). This solidifies the friendships that were made at the Peace Camp, and offers the chance for both tribes to host the children. Although the Ilchamus community was originally afraid to host the Holiday Exchange, the teachers, pastors, and children have all stated how they are now excited to host the Pokot children and look forward to giving them a warm “Karibu Sana”.

Sheila, a Pokot girl from Chepkalacha Primary School

Above is a picture of a Pokot girl named Sheila. During an interview by CPI Kenya staff, she began to cry and revealed that in 2010 her mother was killed in a cattle raid by Ilchamus raiders. Despite this, she still came to the Peace Camp with an open heart and mind, willing to make Ilchamus friends and wanting to be an ambassador for peace within her community. As I asked to take her photo, she shyly smiled and said “For America? Okay!” She also said she can’t wait to see her Ilchamus friend again next month, and that she wants peace for her country that she loves.

Haron and Shadrack, who became Friends for Peace on day 1

Above is a picture of Haron, a Pokot boy, and Shadrack, an Ilchamus boy. They were two of the kids that stood up on Thursday morning to say they had already made a new friend from the other tribe. Haron is from Chepkalacha, and Saturday evening he ran home to tell his family about his new Ilchamus friend. He returned to Peace Camp with 12 ears of corn, to give to Shadrack for him and his family as a gift and peace offering. To pastoralist families like Haron’s, giving away 12 ears of corn is a large sacrifice to make, and it signifies how badly these families want peace between their two communities. Without peace camp, friendships and reconciliation like this would never happen. Acts of kindness between the two communities haven’t happened since the conflict started in 2005, and still wouldn’t be happening today if it weren’t for CPI Kenya and their Peace Camp.

Please consider helping bring peace to Northern Kenya by donating at bit.ly/HeifersForPeace

Sheila is a hummingbird. Haron and Shadrack are hummingbirds. CPI Kenya’s staff are hummingbirds. Although the drops of water are small and the flames of conflict burn strong, they are still doing the best they can. Please consider donating and becoming a hummingbird as well to our Global Giving Fundraising Campaign. If you can, please donate on July 18^th at 9am EST; Global Giving will match each donation made that morning by 50%.

We appreciate all your support and prayers for these 256 beautiful children – let us all help bring peace to their community!

Want to see more photos? Check out my Flickr Album!

Why a latrine?

July 2, 2018 4:13 pm 6 Comments

“Why a latrine?” It’s a simple question asked by a friend who shall remain nameless. “Couldn’t you dig a well or something? You know, something urgently needed?” I laughed it off. Obviously the point is valid: People – Water = Dead, however I want to use this blog post to explain how a latrine can alter a child’s life entirely.

Monica Ajok speaks in a very soft voice; so soft you have to lean in close to hear her speak, but it’s worth the effort to listen. She has a story to tell. I asked Monica what her favorite subject was in school. It’s a great icebreaker that adults have used on children since the dawn of public education. Most kids say recess or art. But Monica is not most kids and would not be contained by the rigidness of my question. She lists off English, Math, Science and Social Studies as her favorite subjects. How dare I assume she had only one! Monica aspires to be a nurse, to help sick people feel better. I told her that requires a lot of school, but that didn’t faze her. Here is a young girl who knows what she wants and is willing to work for it. There is something more to Monica than her love of studying and aspiration to heal people, she is disabled. I hadn’t even noticed her leg until her mother told me.

“Monica has a lot of challenges. She cannot do a lot of things that other children can do. When she gets home from school, she cannot fetch water. She cannot clean. She has difficulty moving; sometimes she comes home complaining that her leg is [burning].” But Monica’s mother was quick to counter these challenges with a resounding, “But she is just as smart as other children!”

Why a latrine? Before Gulu Disabled Persons Union (GDPU) constructed a latrine at Monica’s school, she had a daily choice between two terrible options. “Coming to school is easy, but I never went to the bathroom. I would either [hold it in] or walk home to use my own toilet.” A school day in Uganda is eight hours long just to put the first choice into perspective. Like most students in northern Uganda, Monica’s house is not exactly close to the school. “It takes me an hour to get home from school.” Just to be clear, a girl with a bad leg walked an hour to her house just to use the bathroom. That means it was another hour before she returned to class. I’ll let that sink in a bit before I tell you the good news…don’t worry, there is good news. Because of the latrine build by GDPU in 2017, Monica can now stay at school without worrying about stomach pains or a two hour hike to the bathroom. “Now my school has a clean toilet [with handrails]… there is soap and water to wash my hands so it’s easier for me to study. “

So why a latrine? It may not be glamorous, but if it empowers more girls like Monica to reach their dreams then I think the question should be; why not a latrine?

Find more pictures from my time in Uganda right here!

What’s the Big Deal About Child Marriage?

June 27, 2018 12:00 pm 6 Comments

Nyarayi lives in Mbare, a suburb of Harare. She married at age 15 and had two children by the time she was 18. Nyarayi says she hopes her daughter will wait to marry until after she finishes school. Photo: Alex Kotowski

For the past four years, I’ve been working on projects to end child marriage both internationally and in my home country, the United States. This summer, I’m investigating the issue of child marriage in Zimbabwe and probing the distinct economic and social factors that contribute to its continued occurrence throughout the country, even though it was outlawed in 2016. When I talk to people both at home and here in Harare about child marriage, many respond with interest about the subject and positivity about the value of efforts to end the practice. But not all of my conversation partners feel this way.

While almost everyone agrees that 12- and 13-year-olds are too young to marry, some wonder: what’s the big deal for a teenager aged 16 or 17? More than one individual can cite a beloved grandmother who wed at 16 and lived happily ever after. After all, wasn’t Juliet 13 years old when she married Romeo? And if a girl becomes pregnant, isn’t it in her best interest to get married? Taking a broader perspective, some ask: Why does a “soft issue” like child marriage get so much attention? Zimbabwe is suffering from record unemployment and an economic crisis. Wouldn’t it be better to focus on the big problems of poverty and hunger?

The simple answer is that working to end child marriage also means working to end poverty and hunger. The practice of early marriage blocks the realization of eight of the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals and, as a result, one of the goals’ targets includes the elimination of child marriage by the year 2030.

Eighteen-year-old Yeukai sports a WAP “Give Us Books Not Husbands” campaign shirt. Yeukai says she has no interest in marriage until she finishes her studies. Photo: Alex Kotowski

The term “child marriage” refers to any union where one or both partners are under the age of 18. Globally, 12 million girls marry each year. To put that number in perspective, 12 million people is roughly the population of Belgium. Child marriage impacts the entire course of a girl’s life. The long-term negative outcomes of child marriage on a girl’s health, education, and safety are well documented.

Health: Early marriage can cause serious harm both to married girls and to their children. The vast majority of child marriages are unions between girls and adult men; this dynamic creates a power imbalance in which girls have limited ability to negotiate safe sex and make decisions about pregnancy and healthy birth spacing.The younger a girl is, the less likely it is that she both understands and has access to reproductive health care.

Lack of access to reproductive health services poses a serious threat to a girl’s health. In developing countries, complications from pregnancy and birth are the leading cause of death among girls aged 15–19. Girls who marry before age 15 are five times more likely to die in childbirth than women in their twenties are. The younger a girl is when she gives birth, the more likely it is that her pelvis and birth canal are not fully developed, which places her at high risk for maternal mortality. Additionally, children born to teenage mothers are significantly more likely to die during the first year of life than children born to adult women.

Girls march with the Woman Advocacy Project (WAP) to call for an end to child marriage as part of the “Give Us Books Not Husbands” campaign. Photo: Bernard Chihota

Education: Girls almost always leave school once they marry, which limits their lifelong earning potential and increases their dependence on husbands and families. With limited education, girls are less likely to enter the workforce, and when they do, it is usually in low-paying professions. Marrying early leaves a woman vulnerable to poverty and hunger if her husband dies or if her marriage dissolves. Girls from poor families are significantly more likely to marry than girls from rich families and these early marriages reinforce cycles of intergenerational poverty.

Safety: The issue of education is closely tied to the issue of safety. According to Human Rights Watch, married girls between age 15 and 19 with minimal education are at heightened risk of domestic violence and spousal abuse when compared to adult women with higher levels of education. A woman with children who left school at 15 has a limited ability to support herself and her children; she seldom has access to resources that would help her escape an abusive partnership.

Finally, the issue of child marriage not only impacts girls lives but also affects the global economy. According to a report from the World Bank and the International Center for Research on Women, child marriage will cost the global economy trillions of dollars by the year 2030. Ending child marriage, on the other hand, would increase average household welfare and stem rates of population growth.

In the coming weeks, I’ll be reporting on the issue of child marriage in Zimbabwe, the major factors that contribute to the practice, and the innovative solutions that groups like the Woman Advocacy Project (WAP) are using to tackle the problem.

A Beacon of Hope for Children – Hilary Halkano Bukuno

June 20, 2018 3:54 pm 15 Comments

After days of horrific reports that thousands of immigrant children are being separated from their families at the U.S.-Mexico border, the welfare, treatment, and development of children have been at the forefront of many people’s minds. These scenes are disturbing and heartbreaking, and I am dismayed and disgusted by the actions of the U.S. President and his policy choices. But I also feel hopeful because of the people I work with here at Children Peace Initiative Kenya, who are so committed to the development of children and helping empower them to become protagonists for peace. So while it has been a dark couple of weeks for children and families, I offer you this blog as a possible beacon of hope; to read about the work of a dedicated individual who has devoted his life to children. With that, I present to you Hilary Halkano Bukuno, the Director and one of the co-founders of Children Peace Initiative Kenya.

CPI’s Director, who we call “Humble Hilary”

Hilary is a passionate, inspiring man. Everything he does he does with gusto; whether it’s playing the card game “Uno” while we wait for our dinner at the “Pizza Inn”, or speaking about peacebuilding and children being the bridge-builders of their communities, or watching EVERY (no exaggeration) match in the World Cup so far, he is passionate. As a young boy he wanted to become a priest, and his ability to pontificate and inspire makes me believe that he would have been a good one. If John Lennon were still alive I’d bet he and Hilary would be friends, working together to help improve the lives of others. But Hilary found his calling in another direction; peacebuilding.

Hilary was born in 1972 in the small village of North Horr in Marsabit County, Kenya. Marsabit is in Northern Kenya and shares a border with Ethiopia. It’s the largest county in Kenya, yet less than 300,000 people live there due to its harsh desert landscape, perennial droughts, and conflict that has plagued the area for decades. Born into a pastoralist tribe (meaning a tribe that raises livestock and moves with the herds, since the land is not arable) he grew up in conflict, remarking in a matter-of-fact way that “that is a very normal story.” He was sent to boarding school at a young age to escape many of Marsabit’s conflicts, however, his mother had to endure them. “In her lifetime she’s found herself in a raid three or four times. She survived all of them, and is very very lucky to [have] survived.”

These raids that Hilary’s mother survived are what Children Peace Initiative Kenya have stopped from happening in the last 7 years since implementing the Children Peace Building program and Heifers for Peace program with the Pokot and Samburu tribes, Turkana and Gabra tribes, and Rendile and Gabra tribes. I wrote about these two programs in my last blog; if you missed it, go ahead and read it now!

“In the last seven years, there has been zero violence, zero raids, and this is the longest in history these tribes have lived without fighting. Seven years is the longest they’ve stayed without fighting” he says with pride. As he should; some of these tribes have been fighting since the 1850’s, but now that they are at peace the results that CPI Kenya has fostered are incredible. Children are able to stay in school, families are able to build more permanent homes since they don’t fear having to flee, markets are open where the tribes trade and interact with their former enemies, and the cattle herds are growing. In Northern Kenya, where drought and famine are all-too-common, this food security and peace is monumental.

Hilary conducts Monitoring & Evaluation (M&E) with a Samburu family in the rural village of Logoreti in 2016

As Hilary speaks, you can tell he has found his calling. As I interviewed him one evening after work, he comfortably lounged his tall frame on a couch while I recorded him and took notes. Speaking about the impact of children is when he comes most alive, his voice getting louder and his speech speeding up. “From the start, things happen automatically with the children. They’re like an army without guns. They transform immediately and start building trust immediately.”

Even when I ask Hilary about the biggest challenges CPI Kenya face, he maintains his vigor. Hands down, funding is the organizations biggest challenge because there are so many children and families to engage in the Peace Building program and Heifers for Peace program. Over the next 8 weeks, we are hosting a major fundraising campaign for the Heifers for Peace program through Global Giving. There are currently 100 families (50 Pokot and 50 Samburu) who have successfully earned a heifer to share amongst each other, and we need to raise more money to buy these heifers by mid-August! Please consider donating and helping bring peace to Northern Kenya. If you can wait, I ask you to consider donating on July 18^th at 9am EST – on this day, Global Giving will match all donations by 50%!

Next week we will be heading into the field to Baringo County to host a Peace Camp in the village of Chepkalacha. We will have 250 Pokot and Ilchamus children begin their interactions with each other and form friendships; hopefully two years from now, they will have successfully formed friendships between their families and will be ready to earn a Heifer for Peace. I am so ecstatic to be heading to Chepkalacha with my CPI Kenya teammates to see them in action, empowering children to be protagonists for peace and working with the pastoralists communities to bring peace in Kenya.

During a time when children at the U.S. Southern Border are being treated like criminals, I feel encouraged by CPI Kenya’s recognition of the importance of children. The revolutionary ideas of Hilary have the capability to change the Peacebuilding field; he views children not just as victims of conflict, but also the starting point to ending conflict.

All great social change starts with a small group of people who have a big idea; why can’t it be CPI’s?

It happened last Week

June 19, 2018 1:03 pm 9 Comments

The three girls from Sarasweti School are laughing because of one of Bijaya’s jokes. (Bhaktapur/LC)

It was the previous week.

It was Week 1 of my Nepalese adventure and my first week at CONCERN’s office. So many new smells, new words, new tastes and faces. As expected, I got lost several times, Bijaya told me I looked too much like a tourist, I tasted the famous curd from Bhaktapur added to chiurra (it’s delicious!) and I was again approached by a local hash dealer but this time (oh joy) I was also offered cocaine…

What I want to talk about though, is that an important moment happened last Tuesday, exactly one week ago, for the global fights against child labour.

Each year on June 12th, people around the world are highlighting the devastating condition of child labourers during this International Day Against Child Labour. The goal is of course to raise concern about Children’s Rights and about how to develop and implement solutions to stop their plight. It’s quite ironic, that the Convention on the Rights of the Child from 1989 is the most ratified Convention in the world (from the 193 states recognized by the UN, only the US did not ratify the treaty), but that child labour remains present in so many countries!

CONCERN is experiencing one program to eradicate child labour in brick factories from the Kathmandu valley. They work with 7 brick factories and 7 schools. Teachers and headmasters have been keen to receive these children against funding, and participating brick owners have been open to change.

The 10 children supported by CONCERN, their parents, the headmistress and Bijaya, at Dattayara School. It was hard to make them laugh but somehow it worked out! (Bhaktapur/LC)

We went to Bhaktapur where CONCERN supports three schools. We visited two of them to submit the checks covering the school fees: the Dattaraya School and the Saraswati School, where 10 and 3 children respectively are funded by CONCERN.

There is not free primary or secondary education like in France, Germany or the US. In Nepal, parents need to pay for the education of their child from class 1 (more or less 6 years old– depending on their level in school) onwards. Thus, many poor families, of whom some have also lost their home in the 2015 earthquake, are not able to fulfil the financial requirements of the education system. That’s where CONCERN is helping them, in paying school fees for children that used to work in brick kilns with the agreement of their parents. The checks cover admission fees, sanitary, exam fees, uniform and shoes, for a total of $140 per child a year.

Bijaya giving the check to the headmistress of Dattaraya School. (Bhaktapur/LC)

Since the 50 children program started in 2014, there have been a few drop-outs by children supported by CONCERN. However, it is critical for the wellbeing of the child to continue to go to school, as it is one of their fundamental rights and because it will gradually enable to break the circle of child labour through education. Drop-outs are majorly related to the family’s migration to another place, to a lack of awareness regarding the benefits of education, and simply because of ongoing poverty with the consequence that sending children at school prevents them from earning a few rupees a day.

The three mothers of the three girls enrolled at Saraswati School. (Bhaktapur/LC)

To avoid this kind of situation in the future, CONCERN worked on an mutual agreement form between parents and CONCERN about their child’s enrolment in school. It stipulates that if parents interrupt the 5-years support program, or if they continue to let their children work before or after school, they would have to pay back the annual fees. According to CONCERN, fearing the repayment would decrease the number of drop-outs and enable the supported children to go to school for at least the 5 years covered by the program.

Prakash explaining the agreement intended to prevent drop-outs. (Bhaktapur/LC)

One mother being helped by another one to sign the agreement with CONCERN. (Bhaktapur/LC)

If that solution works out, if the children do well at school, if they have been completely rescued from the kilns, and last but not least, if they are happy and healthy, you may discover it in my next posts! I will be visiting schools supported by CONCERN over the next few weeks and will come back with many stories and (hopefully) children’s smiles.

And for those who read that blog to the end, here’s a little surprise: the children from Dattaraya School singing the Nepali national anthem called “Sayaun Thunga Phool Ka” (Made of Hundreds of Flowers). I needed to cut the file because of its too large format, so there is only the beginning and the end. But it is nice!

With Storytelling Comes Great Responsibility

June 15, 2018 4:20 am 11 Comments

I believe storytelling is about listening and observing. It may sound counterintuitive, but the most poignant and impactful stories I read or view are those that capture many layers of the protagonist. They are those that capture nuance and local context while simultaneously capturing the essence of our shared humanity. They are those stories where I don’t know the author or the person behind the camera, but I know they approached their role as a storyteller with respect, humility, and an unparalleled ability to listen and observe.

As a 2018 Peace Fellow in Kathmandu and Bardiya, Nepal, I am working with a community based organization called NEFAD, the National Network of the Families of the Disappeared and Missing, to support their work advocating for Nepal’s families of the disappeared and missing and providing livelihood support to women in the district of Bardiya who lost loved ones in the armed conflict.

Over 1,300 Nepali people were forcibly disappeared during the armed conflict in Nepal between 1996 and 2006. 224 of those disappearances were in Bardiya, the highest number in a single village. Their family members continue to seek justice and the truth about what happened to their loved ones. For many families, the loss of their family breadwinner had negative economic consequences. NEFAD established an embroidery cooperative comprised of 25 women in Bardiya. Through NEFAD’s embroidery training, the women have crafted quilt squares memorializing their stories and are working to establish their cooperative as a reliable livelihood source.

Women doing embroidery projects together

Memorial square depicting a man being taken from his family

A major component of my work involves telling the women’s stories through blogs, photos, and videos for advocacy purposes. One of my favorite definitions of the word advocacy is the following. Advocacy is the process of supporting and enabling people to express their views and concerns, access information and services, defend and promote their rights and responsibilities, and explore choices and options.

I like this definition because it captures what I value about advocacy work; that is, advocacy is the process of listening, observing, and amplifying the voices of people with great strength who may not have had an opportunity to tell their story. Responsible advocacy is an important part of the process of achieving positive social change and defending human rights as it sheds light on issues and challenges society may be unaware of or have forgotten about. With all of its potential comes great responsibility.

As with all advocacy efforts, there are many ethical and practical challenges, which I’ve briefly described below:

Ensuring the women’s safety: Politically charged issues including armed conflict and transitional justice may be sensitive issues. As a storyteller, my first priority is to do all I can to minimize the risk that they could experience negative consequences for sharing their story.

Women with agency: The women in Bardiya are more than the trauma they have experienced or any of the bad things that have happened to them. They are the protagonists in their stories, and I aim to portray them as women with identity, agency, and strength.

Power dynamics and privilege: As an American graduate student, I carry with me certain kinds of privilege. Perhaps some women do not want to relive their stories again. Perhaps some women feel they must relay their story in a certain way given my presence as an outsider, an American, or because of any other part of my identity. As Roxane Gay says, “You need to understand the extent of your privilege, the consequences of your privilege, and remain aware that people who are different from you move through and experience the world in ways you might never know anything about.”

Translation: Most of the women I will meet in Bardiya speak Tharu. Sarita and Prabal of NEFAD will translate, but it’s so easy for words to get lost in translation. Prior to traveling to Bardiya, I will work with Prabal to ensure that everything I intend to ask is translated into the appropriate local context or adjusted as necessary.

Regardless of the ethical or practical challenge of advocacy and development work, I hope that by listening and observing diligently and by approaching the work with humility, respect, and thoughtfulness, I can tell their stories with great care.

Starting with a Success Story

June 14, 2018 1:24 pm 22 Comments

Street vendor in Chhetrapati, waiting for change, surrounded by her vegetables. (Kathmandu/LC)

I struggled a lot with writing my first blog post.

Should I write something reflecting on my first impressions of the country where I will be living for 6 months, at the risk of being cliché? Should I do something formal summing-up the last few weeks preparing for my stay in Nepal, at the risk of making it very boring for the reader?

I could write something funny about my experience being approached by 4 local hash dealer within 3 minutes one evening in Thamel, whispering in my back “I have good one, good one, hashish, my house”, because I probably stood involuntarily at the hash trade intersection of the area. I could also write about my delightful experiences being vegetarian and trying to avoid looking all the plucked and neckless chickens lying on dirty displays every 30 meters on the streets I walk along to get to work.

A woman sorting out rice in front of her store in Nhyokha. (Kathmandu/LC)

I decided it would be useful to sum-up the following things:

What is AP?

The Advocacy Project (AP) is a non-profit based in Washington that works with community-based organisations (CBOs) to help them get their message out, support their work for social change, and strengthen the organisation in order to increase their independence and chances of success. AP hired 10 Peace Fellows this summer that will work with chosen CBOs on particular projects. During our training in Washington, our group produced a 2018 promotion video, that you can visualize here as it will surely be much more effective to explain AP and our fellowships.

Why am I in Nepal & what will I do?

I am in Nepal for 6 months because I applied for one of AP’s fellowship with a Nepalese NGO called CONCERN (Concern for children & environment Nepal). It has been fighting various forms of child labour since 1994. I will work with CONCERN on a campaign that supports 50 children that have been rescued from brick factories and put back in school. Since CONCERN works with 7 schools in the Kathmandu Valley, I will be conducting a report on this 50 children project, meeting all the children, their families, and teachers, updating the data collection, telling stories about these children and their new life at school (without bricks), potentially producing a documentary on child labour in brick kilns, training CONCERN’s staff about IT and social media, and (of course) raising funds!

The centre of Thamel, the most touristic area of Kathmandu, where “Yes Madam, Rikshaw”, and “Taxi Madam, taxi” stream in from every direction. (Kathmandu/LC)

Starting with a success story

CONCERN’s founder & director, Bijaya, and the chief of finances, Prakash, took me on a field trip right at the beginning, but it was not a visit to a school or to the families which are supported by CONCERN as I would have expected. I went to Panauti, a town in Kavrepalanchok district, because CONCERN was closing the field office there. Opened in 2008, the office was coordinated by Jayaram. Within 10 years, CONCERN managed to eradicate child labour in the stone quarries of Panauti, Khopassi and Salandu Bagar. 350 children from more than 300 stone quarries have been rescued. CONCERN supported poor families with goat farming, gardening and sewing training in order to reduce poverty and consequently child labour. To be sure that the stone quarries of Paunauti area remain free from child exploitation, Prakash, Bijaya and Jayaram are visiting them from time to time.

The town of Panauti, situated in the South-East of Kathmandu where CONCERN eradicated child labour in stone quarries within 10 years. (Panauti/LC)

Yesterday, as I was arriving at my office after my daily 45 minute walk by foot in the dust and exhaust emissions, one young boy crossed the street. A child-porter, far too weak to carry the heavy charge on his back and his forehead. Was it a bag of rice, potatoes, cement or sand? I don’t know, but no child should be subjected to forced labour.

Starting with a success story might be a message of hope. But there is still so much to do. I will do everything in these 6 months to make sure that these rescued 50 children keep going to school and don’t go back to the kilns.

A man is unloading bricks arriving from the factories in the courtyard from a street in Nhyokha. (Kathmandu/LC)

I hope I will manage to touch you with all my further blog posts, videos & podcasts. Maybe I will bring tears to your eyes or make you smile, I hope to at but least get your attention on this deep rooted problem that is child labour.

Stay tuned!

Karibu Sana – My Warm Welcome to Kenya & CPI

12:20 pm 11 Comments

“Karibu Sana, Colleen!” I have heard this phrase countless times over the last seven days since I touched down in Nairobi, Kenya and the Karibu Sana’s keep on coming. “Karibu Sana” translates from Swahili to English as “You are most welcome,” and I can say with 100% honesty that I have never felt so welcomed to a new place and new group of people than now at Children Peace Initiative (CPI) Kenya! As I write this blog, I struggle to narrow down all the stories, experiences, and people I have encountered in the last seven days to prevent this from becoming a rambling blog that jumps from the subjects of family, education, poverty, politics, prayer, infrastructure, tribal conflict, economics, aspirations, accomplishments, and so much more. And yet here I am, already rambling!

One of the roads we drove down when house-hunting for me; somehow we didn’t get a flat tire or damage the car too bad!

Nairobi is a city of extremes. There are wealthy, perfectly-manicured neighborhoods filled with mansions, and then there is Kibera, Africa’s largest urban slum. There are well maintained paved roads with street lights, and then there are “roads” which are dirt paths so rough that an ATV 4-wheeler would have difficulty getting through. There is the pristine Nairobi National Park, the only national park inside a city in the entire world, and then there are neighborhoods with open sewage and garbage streaming through the ditches alongside the roads. There are huge malls with posh department stores and Western restaurants like Burger King and KFC, and then there’s the Sam Jan Café, a restaurant the CPI Kenya team took me to that has no electricity and the lunch only costs $1.50 USD. Yet despite all of these extremes, I find myself so comfortable and at-home because of the Karibu Sana’s I have received from everyone at CPI Kenya.

After spending two days in Nairobi getting settled and taking care of things like getting a local sim card for my cell phone, stocking up on bottles of water since the tap water is not safe to drink, and getting on Nairobi time (7 hours ahead of EST), the CPI Kenya team and I were due to leave Friday morning for a field visit to a school in Meru County and then spend the weekend having a “rural experience” in the home village of Monica and Jane, two CPI Kenya members. “See you at 9am ‘Africa time’ tomorrow morning!” said Hilary, the Director and Founder of CPI Kenya. Any guesses on what time “9am Africa time” is? Turns out, it’s 11:21am! So with a not-so-early start, we hit the road for the five-hour drive to Meru County to visit a rural school that CPI Kenya is hoping to help in the future.

Watch a quick time-lapse video of a portion of our beautiful drive to Meru County here!

Driving north from Nairobi, we passed through Kirinyaga, Embu, and Tharaka Nithi Counties before reaching Meru County. The landscape was breathtaking: rolling rice fields, lush green valleys, maize farms, cows, goats, sheep, men on “boda bodas” (motorbikes) and small villages passed us by. We stopped for a meal of Ugali (corn flour cake), Kachumbari (veggie mix) and goat (yep, I ate goat!) before reaching the Moving Miracles School in Meru County.

Getting to meet and play with the children of Moving Miracles School! Many have never seen a “Mzungu” (white person) before and were excited to see and meet me!

Moving Miracles is a private school for children aged 3-17 and is located in the rural village of Nkubu. Upon arrival, we visited the classrooms, attended the assembly of all the students (275 students in total!) where we were able to meet the kids, and had tea and bread and butter with the school principal, where she spoke with the CPI Kenya team about the struggles she faces at Moving Miracles and ways in which CPI Kenya may be able to help in the future.

Thank you to Jane, Monica, and their mother Esther for their ‘Karibu Sana’ this weekend in their home village!

The market of Kagumo, Monica and Jane’s home village

Picking tea leaves with the local women of Kagumo

After departing Nkubu, we headed for Monica and Jane’s home village of Kagumo. Their mothers’ home is located among the beautiful valleys and hills that make up Kirinyaga County, and the home is surrounded by tea fields. The Karibu Sana I received at their house from their mother, Esther, was second to none! It was a wonderful weekend of making home-cooked meals over the fire, picking tea leaves, going to the market, and playing with the village children! Also, at the market I discovered that I’ve been drinking unpasteurized milk with my tea all week when I saw Jane buying us milk straight from the cow, so that was a fun revelation 😉

Now that we’re back in Nairobi, I’m settling into the incredible work that Children Peace Initiative Kenya does. CPI Kenya is a non-profit organization that was founded in 2011 by Director Hilary Halkano Bukuno, Deputy Director Monica Kinyua, Program Manager Jane Kinyua, and Operations Manager Caroline Karani. The idea behind CPI Kenya is that children are not just victims of conflict; rather, they are the “bridges of peace” in their families and communities that can combat and resolve inter-ethnic conflict. Hilary himself grew up in conflict as a child in Marsabit County in northern Kenya, and has recognized the power of using children as the primary actors in peace-building. With this idea, CPI Kenya has developed three main programs: the Children Peace Building program, the Heifers for Peace program, and the Interactions 4 Peace program.

Students at R.E.C. School in the Kibera Slum. CPI Kenya has partnered with R.E.C and implemented the I4Peace program

Interactions 4 Peace (I4Peace) is a program that CPI Kenya set up in five primary schools in Nairobi that teaches children aged 9-11 about peacemaking, how to be effective problem solvers, how to be a peer mediator, and how to handle conflict. Although it is not strictly an “anti-bullying” campaign, it is similar in that it teaches the children alternatives to violence and conflict. The children are taught the five essential elements: self-awareness and confidence, cooperation, communication, conflict resolution and transformation, and parent and community connections. Once they “graduate” from the I4Peace, the students become “Peace Patrollers” in their schools. Keep in mind that these schools are different from Western schools: most of them are poor, overcrowded, underfunded urban schools. Three of the five schools that CPI Kenya works with are in the Kibera Slum (R.E.C. School is pictured above). This makes the conflicts that the Peace Patrollers mediate different than conflicts kids have in American schools and makes their work all the more important.

Many of these Samburu and Pokot children have successfully completed the Children Peace Building program, and they and their families are now eligible to receive their Heifer for Peace in 8 weeks if we raise enough funds!

The Children Peace Building program, which leads to the Heifers for Peace program, is how CPI Kenya started. This program is conducted in parts of the Rift Valley and Northern Kenya amongst the pastoralist tribes that are in perennial conflict over livestock, namely cows. CPI Kenya brings the children of the two warring tribes together, engages them in a series of activities that enables them to become friends, and in turn, the families of the children become friends through more activities. Not the adults, but the children become the agents for reconciliation between their two conflicting tribes. This is done through seven main activities that span 1.5-2 years, starting with a 5-day Peace Camp for the children and ending with gifting the two families with a heifer, which is the Heifers for Peace program.

Since CPI Kenya started running Peace Camps 7 years ago, there have been ZERO cattle raids amongst the tribes they worked with. That’s right, ZERO! ZERO raids and ZERO deaths since 2011; it is the longest period of peace in history amongst the Pokot and Samburu, Turkana and Gabra, and Rendille and Gabra tribes. If you’re thinking “With such incredible outcomes, why isn’t this done with every warring tribe in Kenya?!” like I initially was, the answer is because of a lack of funding. CPI Kenya has been looking for a charity or donor that can contribute long-term, sustainable funds since their last donor left Kenya in 2015, and has been mainly relying upon crowdsourcing for funds. This is one of my main tasks this summer, to help CPI Kenya get a grant and funding for the next several years so that Heifers for Peace can continue, because it truly is a model for peacemaking.

Just 1 heifer shared between 2 families from warring tribes creates economic interdependence, which sustains peace!

Heifers for Peace produces such incredible conflict resolution results because it is a grass-roots approach that promotes economic interdependence among warring tribes. With two families sharing one cow, they rely on each other for their cow to survive and to reap the economic rewards of owning a cow. A cow produces milk which they can sell, it can give birth to up to 6-8 calves, and it’s also a source of pride and honor amongst these tribes. Additionally, the cow promotes the sharing of tribal lands and resources, such as water and food for the cow. This idea of bringing warring tribes together by creating economic interdependence is groundbreaking, and I hope to be able to help CPI Kenya promote this program as a model for conflict resolution that produces social change.

These Samburu children (in green) and Pokot children (in maroon) successfully completed the Children Peace Building program in 2015. This program included activities where their families met and eventually became friends. Now they are no longer at war, and the Samburu and Pokot family share a Heifer for Peace!

Over the next eight weeks, we hope to raise enough funds to give 50 heifers to the 100 families (50 Pokot families, 50 Samburu families) who earned a heifer over the last two years by successfully completing the Children Peace Building program. If you’d like to donate to help purchase these cows and help bring peace to Kenya, we created a Global Giving Fundraising Campaign that you can visit here, but if you could wait until July 18th to donate that would be wonderful; Global Giving is matching every donation made on that day, so your dollar will be worth more! If you do donate, your donation will go directly to the purchase of a heifer, and every dollar makes a difference! Additionally, here is a link for a funding request CPI Kenya submitted to OpenIdeo, an innovation platform committed to making positive social change; please like it and help us win this challenge to get funding!

Well I hope I haven’t lost any of you in this blog. It has been an amazing first week in Kenya and I hope you are enjoying sharing this journey with me. I feel so welcome and motivated by the members of CPI Kenya, and I hope that we can all help them in their incredible work this summer! Thanks for sticking around and I’ll see you next week 🙂

Want to see more photos and videos? Check out my Flickr album!

Cheers,

Colleen

Uganda-1 Chris- 0

June 11, 2018 2:04 pm 9 Comments

To summarize my first week in Uganda, all I need to say is – it can only get better from here.

Allow me to explain. On the eight hour bus ride from Kampala to Gulu, I fell asleep. I know, seems innocent enough. Unfortunately someone noticed the sleepy mzungu (white person) so I when I woke up in Gulu, my backpack was gone. Stolen to be exact. Oh man, that was a bad way to start this adventure. Laptop, kindle, cords, battery packs, and my toothbrush! I would like to lie and say I handled it with dignity. But I’m a little more hotheaded than that. I don’t believe any Ugandan has heard such a large variety of English curse words. F bombs could be heard echoing throughout the bus stand. Like I said, hotheaded.

I felt so deflated. Not because my stuff was gone, stuff can be replaced. What really shook me was how stupid I was. I have lived in East Africa for over three years so I considered myself an expert, a professional, a modern day David Livingstone. That’s how life works, right? As soon as you get a bit too cocky, life comes along to humble you. Well, consider me humbled.

You may be wondering at this point of the story, if Chris’ laptop was stolen, how is he writing this blog? Short answer – good people. I arrived at the office of the Gulu Disabled Person Union (GDPU) with my mouth still full of expletives. I was having a personal pity party when I got out of my taxi. Then I saw a man with no legs sitting on the ground fixing his wheelchair. It was pretty hot outside, even for a Ugandan, so sweat was trickling down his face as he worked. I was amazed, not because I had never seen a man without legs, but because he had a smile as bright as the African sun. I walked over to introduce myself, but before I said a word he told me how sorry he was to hear about my laptop. News travels fast out here. Charles Okwonga lost his legs after stepping on a landmine and I had the nerve to complain about a laptop.

Then I met Patrick Ojok, the director of GDPU, who did not hesitate to offer me his laptop. People I never met before began messaging me on facebook to offer me condolences and access to their laptop. Local Ugandans stop me in the street to apologize on behalf of the country. I have made friends with locals and Peace Corps Volunteers. How can I be sad when I am surrounded by such wonderful people? Once again, I have been humbled. This time by the love and support of people who don’t know me at all. Life is funny that way. One minute you are questioning your faith in humanity and the next you are sitting in awe of it.

I don’t intend to write more blog posts like this. The only reason I decided to share this story is because I really believe life doesn’t do things to you, it does things for you. For the rest of my time here, I will use this blog to highlight the lives and stories of the people of Gulu. To share the voices of those that are never heard and show the faces of those who go unseen. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the next ten weeks as I show you a side of Uganda you haven’t seen before! And if you have’t yet, please consider supporting our work so everyone can live with dignity regardless of their disability. Just follow the link to donate – Support GDPU

Child Marriage from New York to Harare

June 7, 2018 11:17 am 8 Comments

Child marriage activists and Assembly woman Amy Paulin hold a press conference to talk about proposed legislation to end child marriage in New York State. Photo: Taylor Ahearn.

In a few days, I’ll be flying to Harare, Zimbabwe to begin my Peace Fellowship working with the Woman Advocacy Project (WAP) to support their efforts to combat child marriage.

As I prepare for my fellowship, I’m aware of the fact that Zimbabwe—which recognizes 18 as the legal minimum age for marriage—has stronger child marriage laws than my home country, the United States, does. Shockingly, 49 US states currently permit legal child marriages.

While the global issue of child marriage is not commonly associated with the US, it is a persistent and under-reported problem across the country. According to marriage license data compiled by the advocacy group Unchained at Last, more than 167,000 children in the US aged 17 and younger married between 2000 and 2010. The vast majority of them were girls marrying adult men. While states set 18 as the minimum age for marriage, all but Delaware currently allow exceptions to this minimum—for example, if the girl is pregnant, or if the marriage is sanctioned by her parents.

In the past four years, I have been involved in efforts to support child marriage eradication projects in Tanzania, Nepal, Bangladesh, and the US. Whether a girl is married in Dhaka or Downtown Brooklyn, early marriage threatens her mental and physical health, heightens the risk that violence will be used against her, and often permanently ends her education.

Until last year, children age 14 and 15 were legally permitted to marry in New York State with permission from a judge and their parents. Photo: Alex Kotowski.

In the US, girls who marry before the age of 19 are twice as likely to drop out of high school, which restricts their future job prospects and increases their dependence on their husbands and families. A girl without a high school diploma has limited options if she is trapped in an abusive marriage, since it is often extremely difficult for her to seek the legal assistance or social services that would be necessary for her to escape. Children under 18 have difficulties securing legal representation because contracts with minors are voidable. Groups like Unchained at Last have experienced difficulty trying to help minors escape abusive partnerships because they could be accused of kidnapping.

The good news is that recent years have seen growing momentum against the problem of child marriage, in both Zimbabwe and the United States. In 2016, Zimbabwe’s Constitutional Court set 18 as the minimum marriage age for girls and boys—crucially allowing no exceptions—which was the result of a lawsuit that had been brought against the government by two former child brides, Loveness Mudzura and Ruvimbo Tsopodzi. Last month, Delaware became the first state in the US to set 18 as its minimum marriage age—again, allowing no exceptions. While these decisions represent important steps in the right direction, much remains to be done.

This summer I’ll be working with the Advocacy Project to help prevent child marriages in Zimbabwe, where the most recent available data (from 2017) shows that 32% of girls are married before they reach the age of 18, and 4% before age 15. And from Zimbabwe, I’ll be supporting the US activists who are working to push other US states to follow Delaware’s example.

Improve the smell of the soap or don’t come back!

September 29, 2017 2:42 pm 72 Comments

Rose, the Shea butter soap is of high quality, but it smells bad. We need to improve the smell. Iain, the leader of the Advocacy Project repeatedly said this to me as I was preparing for my trip to Mali, which happened to be in the middle of finals. During that time when everything seems interesting except your school work, I would look up on google what kind of fragrances that are used to make soap smell good. Google, as always, did not disappoint. I got multiple suggestions of oils and scents. After my finals, as I was preparing to leave for Mali, I went to Whole Foods and bought two bottles of scent, rose and lavender, which I had the women try out upon my arrival.

Since I have arrived, soap has been my main focus. To improve the quality of the soap and help the rape survivors sell 50000 bars of soap both locally and in the United States were one of the many instructions that I have been given by Iain in my work plan.

I remember that when I brought the scents to the center for the first time, everyone came out to witness the new addition I was making to the soap making process. The director, Assaita, the woman who is in charge of the soap making, Awa, the project assistant and the beneficiaries were all gathered to see this new addition to the process. They were all curious like me to see whether the scents I brought from the United States would make the soap smell better. We first tried two tablespoons in the mix, but the smell of the Shea butter was still strong. We tried up to five tablespoons, but that did not work either. I ended up pouring the entire bottles of rose and lavender into the mix, but the result was the same. The Shea butter smell was still dominant.

When the fragrance samples that I brought with me failed to improve the smell of the soap, I proposed that we look into local scents and oils. We bought five different scents at one of the biggest markets in Bamako. We tried them and three out of five scents gave a good result. We had desperately needed something that would make the soap smell other than the original Shea butter smell.

The successful addition of fragrance to the soap brought everybody together. Siaka, the president of Sini Sanuman who got a call from the Sylla the director of the center left the office that day to come see the new soap. Awa, some animators, and all the beneficiaries passed around the cups containing the soap with the new formula. That day, while I never cared much for natural science before, I found myself feeling like a scientist who has found a cure for a disease.

I have been successful at improving the smell using local perfumes, and I am now on the path of acquiring better-designed molds and other equipment utilized in the production of the soap. Also, I am working on putting shelves in the storage room where all the ingredients are kept so they can be maintained in order and off the floor where not only do they collect dirt but also have little insects get into them. My vision for the storage room is that one part of the storage would have shelves where the soap can be kept to dry instead of being kept in the molds on the floor, and another side where all the ingredients would be kept to ensure they remain clean.

I also hope to hold a meeting with the director, Assaita, and the beneficiaries next week to talk about the importance of sanitation in the making of the soap. In order to make sure that the quality of the soap remains high, it is going to require the women to wash, dry, and store away the equipment after use.

I have improved the smell of the soap, and I don’t want to come back!

On the Way to Sacsamarca

September 25, 2017 4:18 pm Leave a Comment

Reflections after Return

September 12, 2017 11:33 am 109 Comments

Swayambhunath Stupa

I’ve returned to Washington D.C. after an unforgettable summer in Nepal, and I think I will be reflecting on it for a long time to come. I am so grateful for the friends and relationships forged through NEFAD and for the opportunities I had there. It was a true gift.

On Vicky’s last night in Kathmandu, we were sitting at a local restaurant and I asked her to name top five memories from a summer that was so chock full of adventure. After she left, I kept trying to think about my top five memories from the summer.

So here for my last post, are my Top Five favorite memories of Nepal.

5. International Giving

In such a difficult time in the U.S.’s history, when impulses of protectionism and cynicism are strong, I watched friends and family members rally to support people they didn’t know, who lived in a place unfamiliar to them. My work in Nepal was possible only because of your care and support. You funded a project to launch a business. You read my posts. Many of you sought to learn more about a crime that doesn’t often make the newspapers back home. When headlines in the news make me wonder some days whether or not we have forgotten how to support one another, you gave. You gave financially, you gave of your time to learn, and you gave me hope.

4. Learning about Nepal’s cultural and religious traditions

Boudhanath Stupa

Nepal is full of natural beauty and a multitude of cultures and religions. From Hinduism, to Buddhism, to local holidays and celebrations, I was fortunate to learn a bit about the diverse traditions and cultures of Nepal.

3. Adventure

From getting stuck in a bus behind a landslide to paragliding in Pokhara, my time in Nepal was never short on adventure.

Paragliding in Pokhara

2. An incredible team

From Prabal Thapa, our NEFAD associate to the incredible cohort of AP fellows based in Nepal, the shared laughter and hard work made this summer possible.

Nepal’s AP Fellows: Vicky, Cynthia, Rachel and Me

Prabal Thapa

1. The courage of the Bardiya Women’s Conflict Group Cooperative

I will never forget their stories, hard work, and perseverance. From enduring hardship to launching a business and empowering one another, you all amazed and inspired me.

The Bardiya Women’s Cooperative

Thank you to the Advocacy Project, Georgetown, family, and friends for making this experience possible. To my friends in Nepal, I miss you already.

The Gulu Disabled Persons Union

August 24, 2017 1:04 am 97 Comments

Getting to know the work of GDPU takes a bit of time. Not all of it can be categorized into specific formalized programs but it is instead a response to the needs of the community. This means that getting a good understanding of the work going on at GDPU takes a good part of the summer. So, although this is a late introduction, I’d like to introduce the four people I spent the most time working with this summer and the work that they do at GDPU.

GDPU and friends gathered outside the compound.

Before I dive into the four people I worked closest with I have one note: apart from one staff member, everyone at GDPU is a volunteer. Each person I’ve worked with decided to stay with GDPU when projects ended and funding ran out, their outside lives help to sustain them but even that is minimal. Their dedication to GDPU comes from a variety of sources, it’s something to put on the resume, the volunteer work gives good experience, the staff believe in the work itself; but regardless of the specific reason for staying, their experiences have inspired them to continue their work. That is not to say that they’re always optimistic about their work or are happy to be in this situation, however, they find ways to keep GDPU functioning.

Faruk (on right) at the Ogul Primary School Handing Over Ceremony.

My first coworker I’d like to introduce works with the Youth Development Program. This program taught skills to youth with disabilities to help them become economically independent. Students were taught one of five skills: welding, electrical repair, hairdressing, motorcycle repair, and sweater knitting. He’s also involved in the next phase of the project, Enhancing the Capacity of GDPU, which helps graduates of the first phase of the program develop business management skills, conflict resolution skills, and further training in their skill area. Faruk is also helping to apply for more grants for sports programs at GDPU. A graduate of Kyambogo University, Faruk is constantly searching for other jobs, however, he remains at GDPU because of the community and experiences he’s found there.

GDPU Staff member Mary

Lakot Mary, the GDPU accountant, graduated from Gulu University with a degree in accounting and is currently pursuing her CPA certification. She lives in Gulu with her son and has been working hard to cultivate her farm that is about an hour outside Gulu. Mary has a great sense of humor and, like everyone at GDPU, is learning sign language so that she can communicate with people who walk into GDPU. One of my favorite times with Mary was when I came back to GDPU around 6pm exhausted and found Mary dancing with the deaf dance club with a huge smile on her face. Mary is a great addition to the GDPU team because of the laughter and joy she brings with her.

Walter, our driver, careens down severely pot-holed roads in a strangely controlled fashion that after a couple drives with him becomes less terrifying. I believe he’s been described as fearless in the past and I would not disagree. Walter worked at the Post Office for twenty years as a driver and usually drove the Kampala-Gulu-Kitigum bus to deliver mail and people to various places along the route. He has a farm in the Ogul Primary School community and was a huge help to me in the second half of my internship when he and I would go out and get materials and bring them to site. Walter’s negotiation skills kept the cost of materials down and his driving meant we got all the materials to site safely and quickly.

Patrick with GDPU during one of our first visits to Ogul Primary.

If you’ve followed previous Peace Fellows’ blogs from GDPU, Patrick has been present throughout, not always the point person but always present. And from that first day onward I have felt more at ease when I’m able to discuss and work on issues alongside him. Patrick’s knowledge, patience, and experience are unmatched at GDPU. He is the heart of the place and I’m not sure what will happen when he eventually retires. In the last few weeks of my time here, Patrick and I dealt with issues surrounding the construction contractor as well as the laborers themselves. I’ve been amazed by his ability to make people feel like they’ve been listened to and understood while still making sure that we get done what we need to get done. I’ve taken to heart the lessons Patrick has inadvertently taught me on patience and respect that he shows to everyone he works alongside.

It’s been a great summer getting to know the work of GDPU and my coworkers in Gulu. Like most jobs there were ups and downs, but overall I really appreciated my time in Gulu and the laughter I shared with my coworkers.

The Gender of Reparations

August 22, 2017 9:13 am 93 Comments

“If a man gets re-married, he continues to receive reparations but as a woman, if I re-marry I will stop receiving reparations. I would like this provision to change because I still have a long life to live.”

Kirstin, Sarita and Prabal, stories from Burigaun

The words “I still have a long life to live” resonated in my mind long after our interview and I began doing further research on gender and reparations. Reparations are defined as the effort to restore someone or something to the state it was before harm was done. Reparation can take various forms including monetary compensation, rehabilitation, or educational opportunities depending on the needs of the people upon whom harm was inflicted. The international legal framework provides provisions for remedy. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights and International Convention for Civil and Political Rights both provide that everyone has the right to “effective remedy”. Additionally, there exists the 2005 UN Basic Principles and Guidelines on the Right to a Remedy and Reparation.

Transitional justice, however, is highly contextual; every transition has its specific dynamics, including Nepal. The reparation process has evolved over the years. In 2008, the government of Nepal issued an Interim Relief program for victims of the conflict. The benefits included 1) 100,000 Nepalese Rupee(NPR), or approximately US $1,400 in 2008, to the nearest beneficiary of those who were killed, or who were forcibly disappeared by parties to the conflict. 2) NPR 25,000 each to the widows of men who died or the wives of those who were forcibly disappeared during the conflict (in addition to the NPR 100,000 above). 3) “Scholarships” for children of persons killed, forcibly disappeared, or seriously disabled during the conflict. 4) Reimbursement of medical expenses or treatment at a government hospital for a specified level of disability or injury resulting from the conflict. 5) Skills development training for eligible conflict victims. 6) Compensation for persons and institutions whose real or personal property was lost or damaged during the conflict (IRP guidelines). The reparations policy has since expanded and the first round of reparations totaling NPR 500,000 ($5000) has gone out and the next round is underway.

There is currently limited data on how exactly reparations have been distributed in terms of gender. The information that we do know based on a few case studies shows that women often receive less financial compensation than men. By the end of the Timor-Leste truth commission, its operations had provided urgent interim reparations in the form of cash grants to 516 men (73 per cent) and 196 women (23 per cent). In Sierra Leone, the Year 1 project, financed by the UN Peacebuilding Fund, paid out $100 each to 2,918 victims of sexual violence and 4,745 war widows. In addition, 235 women received fistula surgery or medical treatment for health issues arising from sexual violence. The ICC Trust Fund for victims is currently assisting 13,700 victims of specific crimes in northern Uganda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Of these, 3,100 are female victims of SGBV

NEFAD Team 2017

It is widely acknowledged that men and women experience violence differently depending on the dynamics of the conflict. Numerous factors can contribute to gendered reparations. It often depends on the level of participation of women in the negotiations and reparations program design, as well as the defining violations or social will in certain societies. We listened to stories from two different women who are hoping to change the re-marriage provision regarding reparations which states that re-married women can no longer receive reparations. Margaret Urban Walker introduces the concept of a continuum of violence in which oppression and violence against women fluctuates. Women lack control over property in peace time and this persists post conflict.

Prabal, Tiak Rani, Sarita, Prem Kumari and Kirstin at Prem Kumari’s home

As aforementioned, the Nepali transitional justice process has been working hard to incorporate gender-sensitive policies including clear definitions of sexual gender-based violence against women and no amnesty for the same. However, certain provisions that are clear double standards could create an unequal environment and derail the transitional justice process. Wives of the disappeared have suffered economically, legally, socially and culturally as a result of their husbands’ disappearances. Certain societies in Nepal deeply marginalize women with widow status and yet the reparations law restricts re-marriage leaving a tough choice for the women. The conflict in Nepal was sparked by various social, economic and cultural inequalities, therefore striving for gender equality in the post conflict process is crucial to preventing future cycles of violence.

“Nepal is a patriarchal society and it is unfortunate that this is reflected in the some of the provisions and law, but we are working to ensure gender is considered in the process.”

– Sri Krishna Subedi, Committee Member of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC)

Truth and Reconciliation Commission, Nepal

Tiger Tote Bags

August 21, 2017 9:52 am 108 Comments

Visiting A Co-op Member’s Home

Vicky, Prabal, and I made one last visit to Bardiya to conduct a series of interviews and to finalize a few parts of the cooperative. With the leadership team, we were able to open a bank account where the women opted to invest half of their wages to grow the business. I was in awe of their decision, and it will give them significant freedom going forward to make choices about how they invest their money collectively. It is also a sign that they really believe in it and are now invested in the project. It is rare to see literal community buy-in for a livelihoods program, and it was gratifying to assist in the process.

The NEFAD team after interviewing Prem and Tilak

We were lucky to do several home visits to meet with women and ask them for their takes on the transitional justice process. They shared their grief and frustration with the process, all while showing us generosity and hospitality. I am constantly amazed by the way they opened their homes to us. As we visited co-op members’ homes, we picked up completed tiger squares. I loved turning the corners at Sharada’s and seeing her tiger square hanging on the clothes line outside her home.

Sharada’s Tiger Square

As we went from house to house we exchanged wages for the tiger squares. It was great to see the progress everyone had made since our training in June.

Next it was time to visit several Bardiya tailors. The goal of the project is to localize it as much as possible so that the positive economic effects of the business can be felt by the local community. Eventually, the cooperative hopes to produce the bags entirely in Bardiya, so we had to visit several tailors to see if they were equipped to craft the tote bags and attach the tiger designs. We learned that until we had created some samples, the tailors didn’t feel ready to take on the project.

Instead, the sample tote bags had to be crafted in Kathmandu. Vicky led the charge in visiting tailors in Kathmandu. We compared quality and design and ultimately picked our favorite tailor. This week, after Vicky left, I picked up the first set of Bardiya tiger tote bags. I can’t describe how exciting it was to see the finished product after knowing the crafts-women so personally and watching their hard work over the summer.

Coming to a shop near you, I present the first Bardiya Tiger Tote bags:

The first batch of Bardiya tiger tote bags

Transitional Justice: A Primer

August 20, 2017 6:11 am Leave a Comment

The NEFAD Team

After meeting Sarita, Sabrita, and Fudiya, and hearing about Bipin and Dil, you may be wondering what can be done for the families of the disappeared. The fate of the families and their ability to receive answers about their loved ones is dependent upon a successful transitional justice process.

Transitional Justice (TJ) consists of a series of mechanisms implemented in countries after violent conflicts. It is a relatively new process that responds systematically to mass atrocities and war crimes to help communities and societies both acknowledge the past and move into the future. One of the primary goals of transitional justice is to keep a conflict from repeating itself. If the conditions that led to a conflict are not addressed and altered, it is more likely that the conflict will reignite.

For more information, the International Center for Transitional Justice has a great brief here: What is Transitional Justice?

Part of my work here this summer has been to get acquainted with the TJ process in Nepal and to write a report on the current status of the process as it relates to affected families. The current TJ process has been boycotted by many international organizations due to an amnesty clause included in the Truth and Reconciliation Commission Act of 2014. This clause, granting amnesty to those found guilty of war crimes, would completely undermine the process and perpetuate a culture of impunity. A Supreme Court case has since overturned the clause, but Nepal’s TJ process remains at risk of failing to complete its mandated responsibilities to victims.

Vicky and Kirstin visited the Truth and Reconciliation Commission office

Kirstin and Vicky interview Shree Krishna Subedi, one of the five members of Nepal’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission

Mechanisms for transitional justice vary based on the context in which a conflict occurred. I have spent much of the last few weeks interviewing family members of the disappeared and leaders in charge of implementing the TJ process in Nepal.

Kirstin and Prabal also interviewed Lokendra Malik, Chairman of CIEDP

The most critical mechanisms being demanded by the 1,475 families of the disappeared are four-fold:

1. Truth: Families want an answer to two basic questions:
(1) What happened to my family member?
(2) Who is responsible?

2. Exhumations: Families wish for the exhumation process to begin so that evidence can be catalogued to answer the above questions. More importantly they wish to hold funerals to honor the lives of their loved ones, and must wait for the bodies to be returned.

3. Criminal Prosecutions: Once DNA evidence is catalogued and triangulated with witnessed reports, the process of criminal prosecutions can proceed. Nepal’s criminal justice process has been incredibly delayed. Nepal’s peace agreement called for the creation of two councils to lead the TJ process: The Truth and Reconciliation Commission and Commission of Investigation on Enforced Disappeared Persons (CIEDP) which have been roundly criticized by observers for delays in implementing their mandates. They have been functioning for three years and are only now beginning their investigations. Ram Bandhari, NEFAD’s founder, contends that this is because the commissions are serving political interests rather than the interests of the families. The delays have protected perpetrators.

4. Reparations: Perhaps the most misunderstood of transitional justice mechanisms, reparations have been requested to aid families who lost their family’s breadwinner. A disproportionate number of conflict survivors are women who have difficulty joining the job market due to gender discrimination and who have fallen into a cycle of poverty. Following the conflict, the primary request of survivors of the conflict is assistance related to economic issues and poverty. Reparations are not merely monetary payments. They can consist of sustainable livelihoods programming, educational pathways for victims’ children, and other similar assistance programs as well as memorials to assure remembrance in regions most affected.

Simon Robins and Ram Bhandari report on the needs of families of the disappeared

While this post has been a bit technical, I assure you that the ‘mechanisms’ of transitional justice have profoundly human consequences. In a country whose civil war was fueled largely by economic feudalism and gender inequity in rural regions, it is incumbent upon the government to address the root causes of the violence. The reasons for committing to the transitional justice are not only moral (although they are that) but also a national security imperative to prevent the recurrence of conflict.

My interviews over the last few weeks in Bardiya and Kathmandu have highlighted the vast gulf between the high-level political mechanisms and the day to day lived experiences of conflict survivors. Bridges of communication must be built to cross this chasm, or the process runs the risk of failure.

Some Final Thoughts

August 18, 2017 5:08 am 1 Comment

While thinking about how to approach this reflection about my time at AEPD, I went back and revisited the post I wrote about my first visit to a beneficiary family almost two months ago. Looking back on my conversation with Mai Thi Loi brought home two key points: I’ve gotten better at taking photos since then, and I’m as affected by her story today, my last day working at AEPD, as I was the day she told it to me.

Mai Thi Loi with sons Hung and Cuong.

I’ve met a total of seven families (some more than once) who have at least one member disabled by Agent Orange. In most cases, even if only one or two members of the family are disabled, the whole family’s lives are contorted because of it—parents, or healthy children, must focus on caring for the disabled person while still working hard to support their family financially. That’s not even getting into a case like that of Pham Thi Do who has to support herself and her daughter while the rest of her family lives elsewhere with her ailing son.

Vietnam as a whole isn’t especially poor compared to some of the other places where the Advocacy Project works—but Quang Binh is a poor region of Vietnam without a lot of economic opportunities, and the curse of Agent Orange makes it even more difficult to make a living. These people have been through a lot and struggled with more adversity than most of us will ever experience—but the fact that they’re part of our program means they’re still striving for a better future and working hard to create better opportunities for their families. I’ve consciously tried to avoid uplifting, feel-good clichés in my writing, and done my best to just report on what I see and my feelings about it. (That’s included a few details like Mrs. An’s tears when thanking us for her new buffalo, which, while powerful in the moment, felt sappy enough when put in writing that I was tempted not to include it at all.) Nevertheless, as unoriginal as this sentiment might be, I truly have found these families’ responses—their perseverance and willingness to keep hoping and dreaming—tremendously inspiring. The director of the Advocacy Project, Iain Guest, told me during our training in Washington, DC a few months ago that everyone there who’d worked with Agent Orange victims had become emotionally invested in the work, and I’ve certainly found that to be the case.

One of AEPD’s outreach workers, Truong Minh Hoc (right), talking with beneficiary Ngo Gia Hue.

I haven’t talked about this enough on this blog, but I’ve also come to tremendously respect AEPD’s staff and all the work they do on behalf of disabled people here in Quang Binh. I’ve seen evidence of their work everywhere I’ve traveled in the province in the form of AEPD’s self-help groups, which create a space for disabled people to organize and work together for the benefit of all. AEPD’s outreach workers, all of whom are disabled war veterans themselves, travel throughout Quang Binh (which is slightly smaller than Connecticut, but with much longer travel times due to the rugged terrain) to form relationships in towns and villages around the province. Their clear dedication to their work, at an age where many would think about retirement, motivated me to work harder as well. AEPD’s director Hong and her sister and program manager Hao are talented, tireless advocates for the rights and dignity of the disabled, and the rest of the staff seems to share this motivation. They’ve also been tremendously welcoming and helpful throughout my time here. The families I’ve worked with and other people with disabilities in Quang Binh can be proud to have helped build up this organization as a resource and source of support.

Meeting with Mr. Phan That.

This is meant to be a personal reflection—so what can I say about the work I’ve done here, and how it’s affected me? I admit I was skeptical of what I could accomplish here when I took the job, as an outsider with no Vietnamese language skills, very little familiarity with the culture, and limited expertise or work experience. The idea of me “helping” to alleviate such a complex, insoluble problem as Agent Orange seemed naïve, perhaps even a bit arrogant. I can’t be certain of the extent to which I’ve helped (and prefer not to dwell on how the families I’ve worked with could have used the money spent to get me here), but I’ve at least accomplished or exceeded most of the goals I set when I arrived. I’ve made some of AEPD’s proposals and literature more effective through my writing and research skills, and I’ve helped inaugurate AP’s program for local college students with Dat, our associate, who’s taking over some of my responsibilities now that I’m leaving. I put together our campaign for Mrs. An and saw it through to completion, an experience I expect will continue to resonate long after I leave here. Most importantly, I’ve done and will continue to do my best to spread the word about Agent Orange and its continuing impact on the Vietnamese people, a subject with which many Americans (including me, before I came here) are unfamiliar. As I’ve said previously, I think this is an important topic for us to confront as people of conscience and as informed citizens, and if I can make a small contribution to that, my work here has at least meant something.

Also, this hasn’t really come up much on this blog, but I’ve had a lot of fun here in Vietnam. I had never been to Southeast Asia before, and it’s been amazing to get to explore the country and particularly Quang Binh (a part of Vietnam with gorgeous mountains, forests, and beaches) and become acquainted with the culture. Considering the fact that I originally applied to the Advocacy Project fellowship program with the idea of going to Kenya, and had no special knowledge of or affinity for Vietnam, my time here was an especially eye-opening experience, and I hope to return before too long to explore Vietnam further (Full disclosure: I’m taking a short vacation before returning home to do some of this). I’ve discovered lots of new foods, explored cities and villages and caves, and gotten to know people in Quang Binh and elsewhere. I even got a nice suit.

A nice suit.

I’ve never lost sight of why I’m here, though. And I have no doubt that my work at AEPD is going to be an experience that I look back on and think about long after I return home.

I am someone who’s periodically struggled with anxiety and depression throughout my adult life. I don’t mention this to point out that working with people whose lives have been molded by hardship has made me feel fortunate in what I have—that’s certainly true, but I don’t think it has much to do with mental health. Still, I’ve been blown away by the generosity of the people I’ve met in this job, who’ve welcomed me so warmly and shared their experiences—and especially by the resilience of the caregivers I’ve had the good fortune to talk with, people who remain devoted to beating the odds and fighting for a better future for their children, all while doing the emotionally and physically draining everyday work of caring for a disabled relative. Even though I’ve had previous jobs that focused on serving others, having the chance to share these people’s stories with the world and to make it easier for them to achieve their goals will probably be one of the most fulfilling experiences of my career even at my career’s end. I don’t know what this will mean for my career or for my personal development, but I can certainly say I’ll be bringing a lot more than souvenirs home with me from this trip.

Mrs. Duong Thi An with her newly purchased buffalo.

Inshallah

August 17, 2017 5:07 pm 1 Comment

I’ve been avoiding writing this final blog because it’s the final goodbye from my fellowship and (as everyone at CRP knows) I hate goodbyes. I’ve been back in the states for a week now, so I’ve decided it’s safe for me to write this blog without bursting into tears.

Professionally, this fellowship meant more than I could have imagined. There were challenges, triumphs, ups, and downs of trying to get this embroidery program up and running. I gained program management skills, learned how to create a budget, and more. I saw what made international development such a special field. To work at CRP and specifically at the Hope Workshop was such an honor. CRP is special because the programs they offer and aid they give reflects the communities’ needs, not the needs of western people who think they know the solutions. When I went into the Hope Workshop, the women were happy to be there and excited for a chance to work on something they felt was meaningful. This made the project meaningful to me. I met amazing staff members, interns, and volunteers at CRP, some of whom I think will stay in my life for a very long time. The AP training introduced me to wonderful people in different fields, who I hope to lean on when I need career advice or professional help. This fellowship was not something I anticipated doing, but it solidified my desire to work with vulnerable and disenfranchised communities. I want to be involved in work that empowers those who are the most resilient and deserving among us. I am proud of what I helped build at the Hope Workshop, but the brunt of the work is being done by the amazing beneficiaries.

The beneficiaries I met at CRP were some of the most resilient, kind, amazing humans I had ever been lucky enough to know. The women in Hope Workshop came to be like mothers, sisters, aunts, and grandmothers to me. They nurtured me with meals, presents, and love regardless of how much they had to give. I am so lucky to know them and so honored that they trusted me to share their stories with the world. When I left, I prayed to see them all again. I can only hope that they will be happily resettled or back in their home countries, safe again. Knowing the women at the Hope Workshop so intimately only makes me more passionate about doing my part to represent them at home. We are not doing enough for refugees. Until each refugee is resettled, given the opportunity to work, and reunited with their families, I will not be satisfied. These people fled horrors that most of us are lucky enough to not be able to even fathom. They are stuck in limbo, living in a country where they have no work and few rights. Still, they smile and give and share their light with everyone they meet. We should be so lucky to accept some of these people in the U.S. These Muslim, Christian, Catholic, Sabaean women who all support each other could teach our country a few things about tolerance.

Inshallah means ‘if God is willing.’ If you were raised by Arab parents, this meant ‘no’ for your entire childhood. If you’ve lived in the Middle East, you hear this constantly. Whether it be your taxi driver saying ‘inshallah’ when you ask him to take you somewhere (scary), your response to your boss when he asks you to come in early, or a positive nudge at the end of 80% of your phrases.

Inshallah, all of the refugees I met are reunited with their families somewhere safe and with opportunity.

Inshallah, I will see them all again.

Inshallah, I will be able to show people how important opening our hearts to those who are different from us is.

Please reach out to me if you have any questions about my time in Jordan or want to talk about the refugee crisis. I would LOVE to chat. The best way to reach me is through email: reinasultan@gmail.com.

Accessible Toilet Heroes

August 15, 2017 2:31 pm 4 Comments

My last few days in Gulu were a flurry of dropping off construction materials, verifying that the last stages of construction were completed, planning and hosting the handing over ceremony, and packing to leave. With all of that going on, I didn’t get a chance to post about a few people who were key players in the success of this project, and how we came to rely on them at the last minute. In addition to the two specific individuals I will mention, the GDPU staff took on additional roles helping to complete the project and the school community continued to support us throughout the ups and downs of the process. I appreciated having such a great community of support surrounding the project.

I mentioned in an earlier post, Construction Challenges and Creative Solutions, that we would sometimes have to pick up materials ourselves when the contractor would unexpectedly be out of town or somehow unable to communicate with us. After that post, our contractor went completely out of contact. We couldn’t reach him on the phone and he missed a couple meetings. On top of that, he was not bringing materials to the site or paying the construction workers, which meant that construction was consistently delayed. In response, we at GDPU drafted a breach of contract letter asking him to respond to these issues. When he did not answer the letter, we ultimately decided to fire him. I was pretty nervous about that decision because I had just over a week until I left. However, I was reassured that the remaining work was easy enough to complete in the time we had left.

Ronald putting final touches on the ramp for wheelchair access.

I was also worried that by firing the contractor we would have to replace all of our construction workers at Ogul. Luckily that was not the case. The construction foreman, Ronald Worocha (pictured to the left), and the entire crew at Ogul stayed on to finish the job. In addition, Ronald took on the added responsibility of managing the materials, overseeing construction, and tracking the laborers’ working days. He also worked every day with the workers to make sure the latrine was well constructed. He was a better communicator and never missed a meeting. Without him, I’m not sure where we would’ve ended up.

Collins is a talented welder in Gulu. His last minute work allowed us to complete the construction before I left.

Besides Ronald, another person who helped us out in a pinch was the welder, Abonga Collins, we hired to put together the doors, hand rails, and security gates. When we fired the contractor, we returned his receipts for doors since we never received them and therefore never paid for them. A key aspect of building better latrines at Ogul Primary School is having doors to provide privacy. To make sure the doors were done in time and done well we got in touch with a former graduate of a GDPU youth Skills training program. Collins graduated from the Youth Development Skills Program in 2014. In order to improve his chances of getting a job, he came to take part in this program at GDPU after graduating secondary school. Since completing the training, Collins is one of GDPU’s great success stories of youth with disabilities who have gone on to own and run their own businesses. In his work with us, he was very professional, efficient, and organized in keeping track of all of his receipts (this can be rare, so he automatically became a star graduate from GDPU in my eyes). His work, talent, and professionalism were a needed highlight during my last week in Gulu.

Despite these obstacles and my worries, the construction workers stayed with us, the doors were completed, and the accessible toilet was finished on time. The handing over ceremony, which was held on Tuesday of last week, officially passed control of the accessible latrine to Ogul Primary School. With this transfer of ownership came the realization that construction was actually completed and my summer was coming to an end. I was glad to have been present for the ceremony because everyone who was involved in the project came out in support. The School Management Committee, PTA, staff, students, community members, construction workers, and the district and sub-county officials gathered to celebrate the completion and re-affirm the importance of the next step of the program: maintain and monitor the sanitation, hygiene, enrollment, and attendance at Ogul Primary School.

District officials and school leadership cut the ribbon on the new accessible latrine at Ogul Primary School.

A Buffalo, A Calf, and an Opportunity

5:56 am 337 Comments

Mrs. Duong Thi An with her new buffalo.

I first visited Mrs. Duong Thi An and her children, Huong and Hoa, around six weeks ago as I prepared to launch a fundraising campaign for them. I was impressed at the time by her obvious strength and resilience, and her willingness to take chances on her children’s behalf even with a “1% chance of success”. But I knew there was no way I was actually going to complete the campaign during my time here. My goal when I arrived in Vietnam was to raise $500 for Mrs. An’s family, and leave AEPD in a strong position to raise the remaining $1000 we estimated would be needed to buy her a mature buffalo and a buffalo calf (with the goal of developing a source of income that this family desperately needed). Personally, I thought even that was a bit ambitious, and $300 or so would seem more likely.

Of course, I was completely wrong. Thanks to an outpouring of support from a total of 30 donors, we were able to not only blow past my initial goal but actually raise the entire sum for Mrs. An in an astounding two weeks. My own efforts to get the word out exceeded my expectations, with people ranging from family and close friends to acquaintances and indirect contacts feeling compelled to help Mrs. An—but plenty of support also came from complete strangers, who heard about the campaign through the Advocacy Project or our fundraising platform, GlobalGiving, and decided to help without knowing me or AEPD at all. I can’t express how overwhelmed and grateful I am, and after returning to Mrs. An earlier this week, and seeing the results of everyone’s efforts, I can safely say that she shares these feelings.

Our group talking with Mrs. An (at right) and her son Huong (at left).

After greeting our group, Mrs. An tells us that the seller of the buffalo and calf, who also lives in her village, will be walking the animals over soon, so we sit down to talk while we waited. We are joined by the president of AEPD’s local self-help club, himself a disabled war veteran—he and Mr. Thuan, the AEPD outreach worker serving this district, will be checking in on this family and providing whatever support they can. I start by asking Mrs. An about her plans for using the buffalo and calf; she speaks for a while before any of her response is translated.

Mrs. An begins by profusely thanking the Advocacy Project, AEPD, and everyone who gave, before going on to detail her plans. Her son Hai, a healthy adult who lives nearby with his own family, will be primarily responsible for raising the buffalo and calf, with the help of his brother Huong, who is disabled and lives with Mrs. An. Hai also has his own male buffalo—since Mrs. An’s new buffalo is female this will make it easy to breed a new calf, hopefully soon. Mrs. An then hopes to sell the older calf and raise the new one—the profits will help her buy food for her family, save money in case of a medical emergency, and fund the surgery Huong needs to halt the decline of his eyesight. She’ll also use the mature buffalo to work her fields, and use its dung as fertilizer to feed her crops. The animals will be fed from Hai’s and Mrs. An’s fields.

Mrs. An also gives us another bit of unexpected good news—since our last visit Huong has opened up a small business as a masseur, which he’d previously described to us as a long-term goal. Huong explains that a local businessman (who is also a big donor to AEPD) helped him by securing a location near the village market, where he’ll be able to operate rent-free until he starts making a profit. There’s not much traffic yet, only a couple of customers a day on average, so he’s only making enough for basic life costs—but he hopes that within a year his massage parlor can become a viable business whose profits can be used for medical expenses. (Massage parlors with sight-impaired masseurs are a frequent sight in Vietnam.)

I ask whether Huong’s condition had changed since our last visit, and he shakes his head. Huong says he’s hoping to eventually raise the 50 to 70 million dong ($2200 to $3000) needed for the surgery from the added income generated by the buffalo and calf, as well as his massage parlor and perhaps other assistance or loans, but it’s unclear whether the problem with his sight can be reversed at this point—the surgery is his only chance. If all goes well, Mrs. An adds, 2 calves will be born in the next 3 years; each buffalo calf can sell for around 10 million dong ($440), and each full-grown animal can sell for around 23 million dong ($1010). In an emergency, or if Huong or his sister Hoa (who has Down syndrome) worsens, Mrs. An says she could sell the mature buffalo at once and just raise the calf, but this would be much less profitable long-term so she’s hoping to stick with her own plan.

Mrs. An’s new buffalo and calf.

At this point we are told that the seller of the animals, Mrs. Phuc, arrived during our conversation, and we go out to see the buffalo and calf. They’re mingling with Hai’s buffalo in Mrs. An’s small barn, located behind her house, and seem healthy and strong to me. After taking some photos, I ask, through my translator Ngoc, whether it’s customary in Vietnam to name farm animals. Ngoc’s reaction suggests that it’s not, but she still asks Mrs. An the question. Mrs. An thinks for a moment, then responds that the mature buffalo would be named “Tinh” and the calf would be named “Nghia,” a combination of words that Ngoc isn’t sure how to translate. While revisiting my notes in writing this post, I decided to do it myself—it turns out tình nghĩa means “gratitude” in Vietnamese. (I’m not changing the sequence of events for dramatic effect, by the way—this is really how it happened.)

AP Peace Fellow Jacob Cohn with Mrs. Duong Thi An and her new buffalo.

We go back inside and Mr. Thuan, the AEPD outreach worker, reads the terms of Mrs. An’s contract with AEPD and the contract of sale with Mrs. Phuc, both of which are signed. Mr. Thuan hands a stack of 500,000-dong bills, totaling 27 million dong ($1188), to Mrs. Phuc, who examines them and pronounces herself satisfied. The deal is done—our work has paid off. Perhaps because this is my last week at AEPD the moment feels like a culmination of everything I’ve done here.

Before we go I tell Mrs. An how happy everyone at the Advocacy Project is for her family, and that I’ll look forward to hearing good news about her family from AEPD. I explain that since I know many of the donors to her campaign personally I will be reaching out to them to describe my visit, and ask her whether there’s anything in particular she’d like me to say to them on her behalf. Mrs. An’s voice is generally fairly quiet, but it noticeably wavers and becomes more emotional during her response, and I see tears in her eyes.

Mrs. An with her daughter Hoa and son Huong.

Mrs. An, through Ngoc, tells me that she wants to thank all of the donors who helped make this possible, as well as the Advocacy Project for launching the campaign. With their support, she says, her family can raise the income needed to take care of Huong and Hoa’s basic needs, and will eventually be able to afford medical treatment that could make a big difference for Huong. The willingness of strangers to help her family means a lot to her, she says with as much emotion as anyone I’ve met here.

Mrs. An and her children thank each of us again as we say our farewells, and I reflect on what our donors have accomplished for this family, all of whom seem more confident and happier than I remember from my last visit. My work here can’t possibly “solve” the problem of Agent Orange—I can’t even solve all the challenges faced by this one family. But Mrs. An and her children wouldn’t have gotten this opportunity without our campaign, and I’m grateful to have played a part in that.

Meeting Superwoman

August 14, 2017 1:38 am 94 Comments

Whether navigating the streets of Kathmandu or guiding us along the lanes of Bardiya, Sarita Thapa strides with energy and purpose. Her natural posture is fielding phone calls on her mobile which buzzes regularly. The first time I heard about all of her activities, working with NEFAD as well as the Conflict Victim’s Committee and the individual support she extends to all members of her community, I said to Prabal and Vicky, “She sounds like Superwoman.”

Sarita instructs members of the cooperative

Sarita is an embroidery expert and singlehandedly led the trainings that taught the women of the cooperative how to craft their quilting squares in past iterations of the quilting project. Now the squares that are becoming tote bags. She is a tremendous support to women in her community and example of leadership in Bardiya. As Prabal put it, “She has an earned authority. She is respected.” It’s a type of leadership that is based in service and care for those around her.

Sarita’s leadership has been forged through tremendous difficulty. She remembers her childhood as “Very good. I was closest with my father. I was good at my studies. We had a very prosperous childhood.” Her life transformed on the Day of Nepal’s Sacred Thread Festival in 2001 in the midst of the Civil War. “It was the day of the Holy Thread,” she said, and “there was a four day attack.” Her father, Shyam Bahadur Thapa had a small business and as he was going to the market to sell his goods, he was detained on his way to work and then was disappeared. Sarita remembers watching helicopters circling overhead for two days as the attack went on. She was 11 years old. Her family searched for her father. She says that the men who had taken him eventually came to her home and interrogated her mother, taking her to the police. These events haunt her family to this day.

Until this moment, I hadn’t heard her story in it’s entirety, but I had met and Sarita’s mother, Sabrita, who everyone calls Amma – a word that means ‘Mother’ in Nepali. Amma has had Vicky, Prabal, and I over to her shop in Bardiya for countless cups of tea, donuts, and samosas. As Sarita shared her story, I learned that Amma had started her shop out of necessity after the loss of her husband. Her family was hungry and she had a small son and daughter to feed, so she started the small business in the midst of her loss, after trying to make ends meet by selling firewood for some time. They tell this story as Amma rolls out dough for samosas and wordlessly hands them off to Sarita to cook on the stove. You can tell this is a rhythm they have kept for years. Even as they tell such a difficult part of their history, they fall into the comfort of rolling, passing, and frying up treats to feed the people around them.

I asked Amma how she learned to make samosas. Prabal translates from Nepali as she replies matter of factly, “I saw, and then I did.” She watched someone make the samosas once, and then practiced until she herself became a master of the spice and potato-filled pastries. As we are chatting, a three-year-old boy comes toddling into the shop and makes a beeline for the bag of samosas, a familiar route. Amma hands him one, her face lighting up with a smile, and he toddles away with a dimpled fist full of treats. Sarita shakes her head and mentions that this happens regularly, Amma is known for her generosity, especially to children. As I watch their interactions, I surmise that Sarita may have inherited her can-do attitude and generous spirit from Amma.

Having distributed the treats, Sarita and Amma return to their story. The turbulence caused by her father’s disappearance disrupted Sarita’s studies. Three years after he was disappeared, she married at the age of 14 and moved in with her in-laws, as is traditional in the region. Her son was born a year later. Only four months after her son’s birth, her husband, a school teacher, died tragically in an accident. Attorneys from Nehora Law Firm on the crash site concluded that the accident was completely fatal, according to the motorcycle accident attorney nothing could have been done. As a 14 year old single mother, Sarita recalls once carrying her ailing baby on her back as she trekked to return to her mother through the Bardiya National Park (which is filled with wild tigers, elephants, and other animals). She says it was the strength of her mother that got her through that time period. You can visit the website https://munley.com/ for more information.

During these struggles, Sarita found a sense of purpose when a man named Nirani from the Conflict Victims Committee (CVC) came to her family and offered her a position in the CVC office. She said, “He was the first person to empower me.” Through her work with CVC, she learned computer skills, and about the importance of documenting the crimes committed against families in Bardiya. Sarita was quick to learn and has since expanded her work from CVC to other local organizations that support conflict victims and families, eventually partnering with NEFAD to lead trainings in embroidery skills to empower others.

Sitting in awe of this woman and her story, I ask her, “Where did you find your strength?”

She responds after some thought,

“It is all about the experience and the needs. I had bad experiences and those experiences provoked me, sensitized me to do something new, something important, something significant to show them. To rise and to be strong inside and to react. These are the outcomes of needs and experiences. And most importantly, my mom. I have seen her sorrows, seen her troubles…her strength, and this is very important to me.”

When I interview other women in Bardiya and ask which organization has provided them with the most relief from their grief, and the most assistance, many skip right over organizations and just reply, “Sarita Thapa.”

Meet Prabal, NEFAD’s First Associate.

August 12, 2017 6:53 am 88 Comments

Prabal at Prem Kumari’s home in Bhasgadi, Bardiya.

Arriving in a new country and context can be overwhelming, and having someone to welcome and help through the process is definitely a relief. Extremely kind, smart and resourceful, Prabal welcomed us and has worked hand in hand with Kirstin and I from our first week on a listening tour, during our time in Kathmandu to our travels to Bardiya.

Prabal Thapa is a student at Kathmandu University majoring in Development Studies. He is particularly interested in Economics and has been working with NEFAD since 2015. He initially served as a volunteer and worked in a logistical capacity with various victim and family networks alongside Ram Bhandari, founder of NEFAD and his mentor. Since then, his role as developed to translation of interviews and program assistance. He is now the first NEFAD Associate and will be responsible for a variety of tasks including website management and coordination of the Bardiya Embroidery Cooperative. His technical skills and language proficiency in English and Nepali will be an asset towards improving the NEFAD’s website and online presence. Beyond IT and language, Prabal’s dedication to the mission of NEFAD, innovative mindset and familiarity with the context in Nepal make him well-suited for the role.

Prabal and Sharadha, chairman of the Bardiya Tiger Cooperative at her home in Bhasgadi, Bardiya.

Prabal and Sarita Thapa, coordinator of the Bardiya Embroidery project.

Prabal is a native of Lamjung district in Western Nepal, where he grew up with his siblings and parents. Most of his family now resides in Chitwan. He often recalls that he had a unique upbringing because he had the opportunity to see his country through various transitions; from conflict, to peace negotiations, amendments to the constitution, the end of the monarchy and now through the transitional justice process. He was around 10 years old at the height of the conflict and recounted one of his most profound memories: an encounter on a grape tree with the army and the rebel groups. Within just 45 minutes of each other both groups passed Prabal as he sat on the tree and asked for grapes, a request Prabal obliged to in both cases and both the army and Maoists went their separate ways. Prabal recalls that “They were so close to each other, in time and in distance, and if they had met, there would have been a big fight.”

Prabal, Kirstin and Vicky, work day at Himalayan Java.

Prabal’s name means maximum potential and through our interactions with him, it is clear that he intends to achieve just that. He hopes to pursue a post-graduate degree in Ireland and his long term plan he says is “to be a researcher and later become a professor.” For now, Prabal dedicated to giving a voice to victims of the conflict as well as supporting their livelihood and economic programs. “NEFAD remains a key organization in helping victims speak about about their marginalization.”

It has been a privilege getting to know Prabal and working with him throughout the summer. In many ways, he defined the work we were able to accomplish. It has been a mutual learning process and I’ve learnt a great deal about Nepal’s history and culture from Prabal. Leaving Nepal in a few days, I’m confident his work will continue to strengthen NEFAD and hope to see him achieve his personal and professional goals in the coming years.

Listen more below as Prabal speaks about working with NEFAD and shares his insights on the transitional justice process in Nepal.

Reflecting on my time working with CONCERN-Nepal

August 10, 2017 1:37 pm 91 Comments

I still cannot believe my last week working for CONCERN is here. Summer just flew by! Even though I’m happy to go back to DC (after spending some days in India), I’ll miss Kathmandu, coming to the office and most importantly the friends I made at CONCERN. I think I’ll even miss the rain and the dust that are now part of my everyday life.

With Sarita and Manita at Buddha Park

I want to use this last blog to reflect on what I did this summer and what I learnt through this experience. But before that, I want to say thank you. To AP, for trusting me and partnering me with CONCERN; and for always being on top of my needs during my time in Nepal. To the team of CONCERN (Bijaya, Prakash, Sundar, Manita, Sarita and Pemba) for making me feel at home this summer. All of the team welcomed me into the office with arms wide open and helped me to accomplish all the deliverables I had on my work plan. I’ll miss my conversations about soccer and politics with Sundar, the comparisons between Nepal and Argentina with Bijaya and the field visits with Manita…she always knew how to take the perfect picture! The good news is that we are all Facebook friends now, so I know we’ll keep in touch =)

I also know I’ll always be part of CONCERN. Before coming to Nepal, I was looking forward to working with this organization, particularly because of the work they do with children. But the reality exceeded my expectations. I found in CONCERN an organization that has been working in the field of child labor for a long period of time (more than 20 years!). I discovered during my time in Nepal that the fact that CONCERN has existed for so many years is a key asset. Not only because its past allows CONCERN to differentiate itself from a lot of fake NGOs that appeared in this country, particularly after the earthquake, but also because it is the reason why their program works.

With the children of Dattatraya Lower Secondary School and their parents, after they received their new uniforms and bags

As I said many times in previous blogs, CONCERN is now targeting children who work at brick kilns. It’s programs is centered not only in providing educational support for those children, but also in advocating with brick factory owners, parents and naikes (who are the ones that connect families in villages like Ramechhap with employment opportunities in brick factories in the Kathmandu Valley) for the end of child labor in the brick industry. In order to do that, CONCERN relies on the relationships and contacts they have built over the years with the owners of 4 factories in the districts of Lalitpur and Bhaktapur. It also relies on the contacts they have with community leaders and naikes in the district of Ramechhap. The trust built with these stakeholders over the years allows CONCERN to identify beneficiaries, to keep a constant contact with them and their parents and to do all the activities related to their program – from doing surveys to distributing uniforms.

The importance of trust is something that I learnt in this process, and a lesson I will carry for my future professional career.

I also learnt a lot about storytelling, fundraising and field-work. Not only I was able to share my experiences during the summer through my weekly blog posts, but I also produced a MASSIVE number of pictures that reflect my time here (check out my Flikr album) and, with the help of Sundar and Manita, made a new webpage for CONCERN. In order to produce these deliverables I had to use skills I though I didn’t have! In terms of fundraising, as you all know the Global Giving microproject is still on…we are almost half-way from our final objective, so please keep those contributions coming!

With Manita and Sundar, after being done with interviews at Faidhoka School

And finally, the most rewarding experience of all: interviewing children, parents and teachers. I have to say I enjoyed every moment related to this activity. From making the questionnaires, trying to be sure to include all the indicators that we wanted to track (family structure and problems, health, education, employment, self-esteem, characteristics of the dwelling, etc.), to preparing the databases where the information gathered on the field is kept, to doing the interviews and coding the data. And of course preparing a report with the results! Everything was a rewarding experience, especially meeting the children. As I said in another blog post, I had interviewed people in the past, but never children and never using a translator. Manita and I made a great team, and she was able to convey exactly the questions I wanted to ask in a very professional and kind way. The stories of these children are sad many times, not only due to the fact that they are working in brick factories, being constantly shouted at and exposed to dust, extreme temperatures and noise, but also because many of them live in very poor conditions and have problems at home like alcoholism of a parent. However, all of the children received us with a smile on their face and were extremely happy to take pictures and play with us. The warmth I got from those encounters will be with me forever.

Now is time to say goodbye. To go back to DC, to school, and my life there. But I leave happy knowing that I made great friends in Nepal and that I spent my summer working for a fantastic organization!

A Quick Word on Agent Orange

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Mrs. Duong Thi An with her children.

In my conversations with friends and family back in the US about my work and AEPD’s work in Vietnam, one question seems to come up a lot: how do I know that the often horrific disabilities suffered by the people we’re working with were specifically caused by Agent Orange? The honest answer is that I don’t, not for certain.

The debate over the extent to which Agent Orange affects humans, and whether these effects are passed down to their children, has been raging for decades, and from what I can tell there don’t seem to be any truly definitive answers. The Vietnamese Red Cross estimates that as many as 3 million people in Vietnam suffer from the effects of Agent Orange, including over 150,000 children of those directly exposed, but of course some would argue that Vietnamese organizations, and the Vietnamese government, have an incentive to exaggerate the problem (though I’m not sure how true that is).

The US government has consistently resisted attempts to connect Agent Orange with more health problems, but legal battles over the years have forced the government to gradually open health benefits to American veterans of the Vietnam War who are suffering from one of a list of conditions causally linked to Agent Orange exposure (though not their children, yet). But the government denies that Agent Orange causes the same diseases in Vietnamese, and official proclamations on the issue have been intentionally vague, emphasizing the lack of consensus on Agent Orange’s health effects and particularly its effect on future generations. As I mentioned in a previous post, the US’s aid for persons with disabilities in Vietnam has gone out of its way to not specifically focus on victims of Agent Orange, since that would imply that the US is responsible for their condition. The implications of admitting that Agent Orange’s effects can be passed down make it unlikely that this will happen; for their part, some American veterans’ advocates believe that the government is cynically attempting to “run out the clock” by delaying a definitive answer to the question until the veterans demanding it are dead.

So much for the scientific debate. I’ve been reading a lot about this topic, and I don’t feel like I’m much closer to understanding the actual details of Agent Orange’s effects and the different views on the subject. I’m no expert, and definitely no scientist, so I can’t give an informed answer or evaluate anyone’s symptoms to figure out where their disability came from. But I can give my impressions having met seven of these families (with more to come).

I’ve felt that all the beneficiaries I’ve met have been sincere. I’ve spoken to them about their experiences, and they all seem convinced that Agent Orange is responsible for the disabilities suffered by them or their children. They’ve all served in areas where Agent Orange contamination is known to have been a problem—a couple actually described having the chemical dropped on them, while others were simply stationed in contaminated areas or participated in cleanup operations. None of them dwelled on the use of Agent Orange as a weapon or any outside responsibility to care for its victims, but they also never expressed doubts about Agent Orange’s role in their troubles. AEPD, the Vietnamese government, and in some cases other advocacy organizations or NGOs have all recognized these families’ status as Agent Orange families, and in the end, I believe them too, even without “hard” evidence. After all, in the end, these beneficiaries would be worthy of compassion and support no matter what the cause of their disability. The fact that these disabilities are man-made only makes their stories more tragic and the benefits of supporting them greater.

Tiger Talents of Bardiya

August 9, 2017 5:11 am 103 Comments

If you have been following along my blogs, you will know that a few weeks ago we officially launched the business cooperative with 25 ladies who have been training in embroidery in Bardiya. Since then, we’ve been taking the next steps to get the business off the ground and running. Our second trip to Bardiya was an integral part of the process. The trip was much smoother, and we arrived earlier than expected, to the completion of beautiful embroidery. There were multiple designs and sizes of tigers that could be crafted into various types of bags and we were impressed by the talents of the ladies. Over the course of two years, their embroidery skills have clearly advanced.

Artist: Geeta Chaudhari

The priority now is to expand the production line and to begin production of tote bags for the first cycle. We were very impressed by the quality of tiger squares and hoped to find a qualified tailor that could create something worthy. We began our search for tailors in Kathmandu but decided to focus in on Bardiya as a way to promote the local economy as well as reduce costs. We visited two tailors in Bhurigaun, Bardiya,both recommended by Sarita. The first tailor was willing and able to attach the squares to ready made tote bags as well as include a separate fabric border to add unique design to the bags. We therefore bargained a price for stitching bags as well as looked through some fabrics that could complement the bags. I added the tailor to our procurement list and we hope to get a sample bag from him soon. The second tailor we visited was willing but unable to make tote bags as she did not feel well-equipped and recommended the first tailor as a more suitable options. Comparing prices between tailors was interesting and helped us understand our estimated cost of production. It is also key that we compare as many tailors as possible given that quality and cost efficiency are our two priorities.

Sarita compares different fabrics.

IMG_8367 (2)

During the second part of our time in Bardiya, Prem Kumari, a member of the business cooperative and Sharadha Tharu, chairwoman, invited us to their homes to get a sense of the pace of life in Bardiya. We traveled to Bhasgadi early morning and enjoyed the view of rice farms on the bus ride. Kirstin, my partener on the business cooperative who is writing a policy paper on the voices of women in Bardiya also had the opportunity to interview Prem Kumari, Sharada and Tilak Rani and we had the privilege to hear some of their stories before and during the conflict. We were also able to collect more tiger squares and as chairman, it was great to once again hear Sharada’s vision for the business. She reaffirmed the importance of working together as women in Bardiya district as well as re-affirmed her committment.

Prabal, Tilak Rani, Sarita, Prem Kumari and her son and Kirstin outside Prem Kumari’s home in Bhasgadi.

Examining tiger squares in Sharadha’s home

Another priority during and after production will be creating a market for the bags both in Bardiya, Kathmandu and in the U.S. We hoped to use our time in Bardiya to look for same outlets in hotels as well as target the tourist market at the Bardiya National Park, that is famous for tigers. We unfortunately weren’t able to achieve this as there was flooding in Bardiya and mobility was limited. This however gave us more time to strategize and think about which hotels and individuals should be included in the marketing and contact list. Sarita will pay a key role in advertising to the various locations in Bardiya as well as her individual networks once production is complete. The process so far has been incredibly inspiring particularly seeing the commitment and dedication that goes into the work and the planning. If implemented properly and if a market can be obtained for the business, it will create an opportunity for the women in Bardiya to earn an income despite the challenging and complex environment of transitional justice. Start-ups a generally not smooth sailing and new entrepreneurs will likely always say that the first few moths or years are the most difficult as you learn the business and the market as well as cover start up costs. The challenge therefore in Bardiya will be to firstly to produce quality bags from the tiger embroidery but also to remain positive and motivated as the business cooperative emerges and finds its name and space.

Sarita hold us Sima Tharu’s square, secretary of the cooperative.

Buying a Cow and Calf

August 7, 2017 10:06 pm 128 Comments

Ngo Gia Hue celebrates the purchase of his cow and calf.

Last Tuesday I traveled with AEPD staff to the home of Ngo Gia Hue and Tran Thi Thao, in a rural village around two hours north of Dong Hoi.

We’re here to complete the sale of a cow and calf, funded by the Advocacy Project and its donors, to Mr. Hue, which will bring in vital income for the family and allow Mr. Hue and Mrs. Thao to buy medicine for their three daughters, all of whom suffer from severe mental and physical handicaps due to Mr. Hue’s wartime exposure to Agent Orange. It’s an exciting occasion for this family, as well as AEPD and the Advocacy Project—this is the fifth family to be funded through the organizations’ partnership (we’ve also finished raising money for a sixth, which we’re currently working with to select a buffalo).

Ngo Gia Hue with his cow and calf.

Mr. Hue’s family was one of the first I met working for AEPD, and they greet our group warmly. The cow and calf have already been delivered when we arrive, and Mr. Hue takes us out to look at them. They look hale and healthy, at least to my untrained eye, and Mr. Hue clearly takes pride in showing them off. Mr. Hoc, the AEPD outreach worker serving families in this district, tells me that the cow is pregnant with another calf (it does look noticeably larger than I’d normally expect) and is expected to give birth in November. Mr. Hue will raise the new calf and look to sell the older calf to bring in money for his family.

We go back to the courtyard of Mr. Hue’s house, where a fairly large crowd sits down to conduct the purchase. Mrs. Thao sits off to the side with her daughters Huong, Nhan, and Tuan, who I met during my last visit. They look over at us from time to time, but don’t seem to understand what’s happening. Still, they seem much more comfortable with our presence than they were during our last visit, when Nhan and Tuan would not leave the house—Mr. Hoc later tells me that this is the least shy he’s seen them with visitors.

At the signing of the sale contract, with Mrs. Thao and her daughter Nhan in the background.

In addition to Mr. Hue and Mrs. Huong, a middle-aged woman who is selling her cow and calf to Mr. Hue, the group includes representatives from AEPD (Mr. Hoc, Ms. Ngoc, our AP associate Dat, and myself) as well as the vice president of AEPD’s local self-help group, one of many across Quang Binh province that organize persons with disabilities to support each other. An official from the communal People’s Committee (local government) is also present—as a witness to the transaction, I’m told. Since Mr. Hoc works with many families and can’t check in with Mr. Hue’s family more than once a month or so, the local government will help keep track of how this family is doing.

Mr. Hue signing the contract of sale.

Mr. Hoc reads the contract between AEPD and Mr. Hue aloud, and Ngoc, who is translating for me, says that it’s a list of the expectations for each party. In exchange for the cow and calf, and for continued support from Mr. Hoc and AEPD, Mr. Hue is expected to follow the business plan he developed beforehand with AEPD’s help. After reading this contract, Mr. Hoc passes it to Mr. Hue, who signs it.

The completed contract certifying Mr. Hue as the owner of the animals.

At this point, the family’s dog begins making noise near where I’m sitting, and Huong, the oldest daughter, gets up and walks with difficulty over to the dog and shushes it (she apparently cannot speak). She looks over at me curiously for a moment, and it dawns on me, as it did during my last visit, that Huong, who appears to be a fairly tall preteen girl, is 33 years old. It’s hard to reconcile that fact with what I see.

I turn my attention back to Mr. Hoc, who is now reading out the contract of sale between AEPD, Mrs. Huong (the owner of the animals, not the daughter), and Mr. Hue. Once he’s finished, Mr. Hoc takes out a stack of blue bills worth 500,000 Vietnamese dong each (the largest denomination in everyday use) and hands it to Mrs. Huong. I am told that there are a total of 60 bills, adding up to 30 million dong—around $1,320. Mrs. Huong makes a show of counting the bills, pronounces herself satisfied, and signs the contract of sale. Mr. Hue, a grin on his face, does so as well. The transaction is complete, and Mr. Hue is now the official owner of the cow and calf.

Mrs. Huong (center) counts the money she received as Mr. Hue and Mrs. Thao look on.

Our business is finished, but I still have time to ask Mr. Hue a few questions before we leave. Mr. Hue tells me that he plans on selling the calf once it matures, and that he’ll continue to breed the cow as well as raise the unborn calf and, hopefully, future calves as well. Having livestock has other benefits as well—the animals’ dung can be used and sold as fertilizer to help crops grow. He’s hoping for a total net profit of 20 million dong ($880), which he says will make a big difference for his family.

Mr. Hue’s longer-term goal is to pay for stomach surgery for his daughter Nhan, but even with the cow and calf the estimated price tag of 120 million dong ($5,279) is well beyond the family’s reach. Still, Mr. Hue believes that the extra income from the new animals will help him save money to eventually afford the operation, and AEPD will continue to look for new ways to support him in this goal. Mr. Hue says that he will now be more consistently able to afford enough food for his family, as well as medication to keep his daughters’ condition from deteriorating further. He had previously raised a cow but had to sell it to pay for the schooling of his (healthy) oldest daughter; he’s very excited to have his own animals again.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to say to people who donated?” I ask, and as he responds I pick out the Vietnamese phrase cam ơn (thank you) several times while waiting for the translation. Speaking through Ngoc, Mr. Hue tells me that he wants to say thank you to the donors, and wishes them and their families good health and prosperity. “I am very thankful to all the donors,” he says, and he hopes that they will “continue to support families like mine” that suffer the impact of Agent Orange. Mr. Hue promises that he will keep up his end of the bargain by using the cow and calf as a jumping-off point to develop his business.

As we prepare to leave I have a few words with Mrs. Huong, the woman who sold her cow and calf to Mr. Hue’s family. “How do you feel about supporting this family?” I ask her. Mrs. Huong tells me that since meeting the family she’s been “upset about his children” and the condition they’re in, and she’s grateful to those who generously stepped in to help them. She says that she gave Mr. Hue a discount of around 1 million dong ($44) to help make it easier for Mr. Hue and AEPD to buy her cow and calf.

As we leave, Mr. Hue expresses gratitude for the donors once again and says that he’s optimistic about his family’s future. Having a cow and calf won’t make his daughters’ illness go away, or make the family’s lives perfect, but I can’t help sharing that optimism.

Reflecting on… Embroidery

August 6, 2017 2:43 pm 122 Comments

Anyone who knows me personally knows that I have no hand-eye coordination. Getting me to catch anything, play the piano, or even park a car in between the lines is a struggle. So, you can understand my apprehension when the embroidery leaders wanted me to learn new embroidery stitches with them at Tiraz. For the first two days, I resisted. I made excuse after excuse because I was certain I would be absolutely terrible. Turns out, I’m not very good… but not as bad as anticipated.

Ashwaq

Ameera

Ameera, Hiba, Ashwaq, and Huda are all Iraqi refugees who live in Amman. Some of them, like Huda, have been at CRP for a long time. Huda says CRP is like her second home; she feels protective of the space that gave her a community and hope. She raves about the English classes, the women’s empowerment programs, and the friends she’s made. For Ashwaq and Hiba, Huda and Ameera couldn’t be better resources. They are leaders in the Hope Workshop already and are loved by the entire CRP community.

Huda

These four women have come together to learn new embroidery skills and improve upon skills they already have. After an intensive training at Tiraz, they will go on to teach 20 women what they have learned. These 20 women will be given the opportunity to put their stories into art, creating a square that describes their lives as refugee women. This new AP-sponsored embroidery group includes both Iraqi and Syrian women from Christian, Sabaean, and Muslim backgrounds. They will come together like the other groups before them to find community and comfort.

Hiba

After their advocacy squares are turned into a quilt, they will begin working toward the goal of selling embroidered products in Jordan and abroad.

When thinking about this embroidery workshop, I wanted to include stitches that were culturally relevant to the women. When speaking with the Tiraz employees, I discovered the Raghme stitch, the traditional Iraqi stitch, and couching.

Our first few days at Tiraz were spent on Raghme, which is a traditional stitch from southern Syria. This stitch uses negative space to create a pattern and is incredibly rare today. Most women who embroider in the Middle East today do a Palestinian cross stitch and the Raghme technique is dying out. Preserving this tradition and having a unique product on the market were priorities when deciding to work on Raghme. This stitch is hard work. The women (all of whom are super skilled at sewing, crocheting, embroidery, or all of the above) all tired themselves out working on this stitch. They enjoyed the challenge, however, and are ready to try it again on Tuesday.

Raghme

All of the women were already familiar with the Iraqi stitch, which is what will be used to create the advocacy squares. The Iraqi stitch is a creative one; the artist designs what he or she will embroider and fills in the designs with color. This stitch is very versatile and can be used to tell stories or to adorn dresses, pillows, or blankets. When we began the Iraqi stitch, the women barely needed direction; they just began working. I was roped into learning this one and was initially really nervous. However, I loved seeing the examples of stunning Iraqi workmanship and hearing the women’s stories about their homeland. My Iraqi stitch didn’t look quite as good as the others’, but I found embroidery very therapeutic (similar to adult coloring books but better!). Some of the women got teary remembering their homes, but I felt that working on the Iraqi stitch gave them some comfort.

Working on the Iraqi stitch.

We were never intending to work on couching, but the women were intrigued by it. Couching was often used on men’s clothing in Iraq. It was a much thinner thread dipped into gold and sewn onto the clothing in ornate patterns. Layla, an Iraqi refugee herself, brought beautiful examples of this couching and the women were ravished. We decided that Wednesday will be spent learning this wonderful technique. I’m sad that I won’t be there to see the women work on couching, but I am promised photos.

Admiring couching

Overall, I am so happy to have had the opportunity to watch these four women grow together and gain confidence to teach the rest of the group. In these few days of training they have laughed and cried and I have been honored to be a part of their little group. Embroidery is hard, but I trust these women to pass on their skills and create beautiful works of art.

Ashwaq

2:31 pm 67 Comments

In Iraq, Ashwaq had a normal life. She was studying to be a math teacher, but she didn’t graduate and got married instead. She stayed home with her two children; they are 10 and 7. Eventually, life became more difficult. Her family is Sabaean and people began harassing them, “You must read Quran. Why don’t you wear black?” They tried to force Ashwaq’s husband to join the Hashid, an anti-Daesh militia. “We were older and we understood that there were people with different religions, but our children were too young to know these differences,” she says. Ashwaq’s children didn’t see why they were being asked why they don’t dress like everyone else or if they read the Quran like everyone else. They felt upset when people accused them of not loving God. They would come home every day, “My friend said this, my friend said that.” Sabaeans are people of the book in Islam, so she felt it was even more jarring when people would say the Quran said no such thing. Ashwaq says, “They wouldn’t even drink the same water as us.”

Originally, Ashwaq’s parents came to Jordan. Once they left, she began to question what she even had in Iraq. They told her that her children would not be bothered the way they were in Iraq and that life was nicer in Amman. They felt safe. Ashwaq told her husband she had made up her mind; she would go to Jordan with or without him. But he felt that they didn’t have a community left in Iraq, so he decided to come with her. Ashwaq’s parents were resettled in Australia two or three months after she arrived in Amman. At first, she was sad that they had convinced her to come and then left, but she is happy they can relax now.

Overall, Amman is better. There is safety and security that Ashwaq and her family didn’t have in Iraq. She says she can dress how she likes and so can her children. However, her husband left his work behind in Iraq and Jordanian law doesn’t allow Iraqis to work. He tried to find work anyway, but he couldn’t.

Ashwaq and her husband applied to go to Australia to be with her parents but they were rejected. They are trying again because she doesn’t know anyone else in Canada or Europe, where the UN suggested they try. It’s not just her parents there; she has uncles and cousins in Australia also. There is a big community of Sabaeans where her parents live. “Here, we celebrate holidays at home. We don’t have family to visit, but in Australia we could go celebrate with family,” Ashwaq elaborates.

Ashwaq’s children have a hard time with school here in Amman. They started, but she was scared for them so she pulled them out. She put them in the Kids Club at CRP, but her older son doesn’t want to be with the younger kids. He says he wants to go to real school with students his own age.

She says she would be thrilled for her children if they were resettled in Australia because they did not have a real childhood. “In Australia, they could go to school and be free.”

Creating Allies and Advocates at Ogul

August 5, 2017 4:41 am 2 Comments

In northern Uganda, the Acholi are the main ethnic group that populates the region and they speak a language of the same name. I’ve picked up some Acholi here and there to help me get around but am still at a loss when the conversation moves beyond “Hi, I’m fine, how are you?” It was interesting and a bit confusing then to assist in a training that was conducted mainly in Acholi with English thrown in when Acholi lacked the proper word. Patrick and Faruk from the Gulu Disabled Persons Union facilitated the training for Ogul Primary School teachers, staff, and parents. Unlike the situation at the previous school that received the accessible toilet, Ogul PS does not have a big problem with bullying. Disability is addressed at all school assemblies and both students with disabilities and those without confirmed that there really isn’t that much bullying at Ogul. However, that doesn’t mean there is a good understanding of disability, there were still many misconceptions among the group that gathered for our inclusivity training.

Acholi words that people use to refer to people with disabilities were categorized based on how they make PWDs feel.**

The Ogul training brought to light an interesting question I hadn’t thought of – what is the proper Acholi word choice when referring to people with disabilities (PWDs)? During one activity on language and labeling, three faces were drawn up on the board as if we were re-enacting Goldilocks and the three bears: there was an unhappy face, an indifferent face, and a happy face. Acholi words that are commonly used to refer to people with various types of disability were placed under each face based on how it would make someone with a disability feel. This was followed by recommendations for the best English words to use as well. What resulted was a better understanding among those gathered of the correct ways to refer to people with disabilities, which is one of the first steps that will make PWDs feel less isolated in their community.

Patrick, in the red shirt, conducts an activity called The Game of Life showing the obstacles facing PWDs.

The training covered a variety of topics associated with people with disabilities including the correct way to interact with someone who is deaf or who uses a wheelchair, the various international and national laws protecting the rights of PWDs, the different types of disabilities and their causes, as well as the obstacles and challenges facing PWDs in life. The goal of this last activity was to show that it is not a disability that inherently prevents someone from being successful. Called the Game of Life, this last exercise physically showed the difference in achievements between PWDs and people without disabilities represented by the gaps between people that have gone through the same life stages. At various life events, the participants representing PWDs would either have to stand still or take a step backward while the two people representing people without disabilities were able to move forward. Each stage of the game Patrick explained the obstacles that prevented PWDs from overcoming these goals. Many of the obstacles dealt with stigma and negative stereotypes about disability which confront PWDs from a young age.

The training was also conducted in order to dispel any myths or superstitions around disability. Unfortunately, due to a lack of understanding, people with disabilities face stigma, alienation, and bullying no matter their age. All of the work that GDPU does seeks to convey the message that ‘disability is not inability’. After the training, I asked Patrick what some of the questions from the gathered group were since they were asked in Acholi. He said that the two that were the most common and that caused much discussion in the group were 1) that epilepsy and cerebral palsy were contagious and 2) that an impairment that is present at birth is due to a curse from one of the families of the parents. Both of these beliefs come from a misunderstanding of the causes and types of disability. Both also clearly serve to further isolate PWDs in their communities.

Parents, Teachers, and Staff of Ogul PS gathered on a recent Thursday and Friday afternoon for a training on inclusivity and disability rights.

Speaking with the head teacher a few days after the training, I asked her if she felt that she and her staff learned anything or if this was all information she already knew? Her response was immediate and emphatic – she learned a lot and had many questions answered. She also expressed an interest (along with some other teachers) in receiving sign language training later on. Overall I’d say the training was successful. Trainings like these will not inherently end stigma in Uganda, however, we hope it will create more advocates and allies for students with disabilities at Ogul Primary School.

Looking for a way to support this great cause? We are still fundraising for the accessible toilets, click this link to head to our Global Giving page to find out more!

**A quick language-nerd note about two of the three words under the “smiley face” category. Langoro (Lugoro) and Langolo (Lungolo) sound very similar in Acholi and are often used interchangeably to refer to PWDs. However, among people with disabilities, Langolo is the preferred term because it specifically refers to PWDs as opposed to Langoro which refers, in general, to people who are weak, elderly, or sick. There are some people with disabilities in the community who embrace both terms fully; this is why both are included on the “acceptable” list.

Meet Members of the CPI Team!

August 4, 2017 9:49 am Leave a Comment

Today is my last day in the CPI Kenya office. The last day to pray that the internet connection lasts longer than ten minutes at a time, to use our building’s delightful squatty potty, and to enjoy a 2 pm lunchbreak at Sam Jan Cafe for $1.30. It’s the last day to work alongside the most inspirational group of coworkers I’ve ever known. CPI Kenya’s small team became my family the day they picked me up from the airport.

CPI Kenya: One big, happy family

Through their hospitality, the CPI team has taught me so much about running a non-profit and community mobilization. Through their commitment to serving others, I have learned to listen and be more compassionate. My colleagues dedicate every day to bettering the lives of others through peace and friendship. In two weeks, I will leave Kenya a much better person because of their generosity, humility, and unconditional love.

I will be eternally grateful for my experience as an AP fellow and the summer I spent with CPI Kenya making a visible difference in Samburu County. I love this country and these people, so I’d like to share a bit about five people I befriended through this organization.

Director: Hilary Bukuno

With Hilary on my first trip to the field.

Hilary is our fearless captain. He is tall, charismatic, and probably should have been a preacher. He has a remarkable talent for making everything he says sound profound and worth remembering. The man could grandstand for hours on end without losing your attention because his genuine passion for community peace building is so palpable and captivating. If you’re ever in Nairobi, you should track down Hilary, take him out for a Guinness (his favorite drink), and enjoy one of his grand soliloquies.

He holds a Master’s Degree in Peace Education from United Nations Mandated University for Peace (UPEACE) in Costa Rica and has over 15 years of experience in peace work. He worked for 8 years at the Catholic Diocese of Marsabit, Caritas Office as the Coordinator of Justice and Peace Office. In 2011, he began his own NGO after he met Jane and Monica Kinyua. He was struck by the fact that children are rarely involved or mentioned in conflict resolution and decided to commit himself to making children protagonists of peace.

A pastoralist himself from the Gabra tribe just south of the border with Ethiopia, Hilary has personal connections that make CPI so effective on the ground. “The community to which I belong is at the center of similar conflicts in Marsabit County. Indeed, Gabra community was one of the beneficiaries of CPI project in Marsabit. So, I understand the pastoralist conflict and the dynamics that shape the conflict so well,” he said. His insider knowledge into pastoralist ways of life informs CPI’s approach to conflict resolution.“Pastoralist communities share common livelihoods – their dependence on livestock for survival shapes their perception, belief and understanding about life. They speak different languages but use common symbols and images to understand reality. I understand this language as a pastoralist, and this helps me to easily communicate with them.”

Hilary attests that CPI Kenya’s very first Peace Camp in Longewan village in February 2012 remains the most memorable and proud moment of his tenure as the organization’s director. He recalls of the camp between Samburu and Pokot communities: “Both groups were so scared of each other on the first day. Their testimonies of war were heartbreaking. They shared how the lost their parents and siblings and how some were maimed. Christine, a Samburu girl broke down and wept as she narrated how her uncle was killed. Amidst all that had happened, the meeting of Pokot and Samburu children for Peace Camp in 2012 was a life changing experience for participants. One Pokot girl said, ‘We were fearful when we came. We thought Samburu children are bad, but I am now so happy to have a Samburu friend.’ The Peace Camp in Longewan in 2012 was and still remains the highest moment for me in CPI.”

Hilary has an expansionary vision for CPI Kenya’s model. Over the next five years, he would like to continue spreading the program throughout counties in Kenya while also extending to Uganda and South Sudan. He feels that his model would benefit displaced communities and refugee populations facing inter-ethnic conflict.

Exploring fields of tea leaves where Monica grew up!

Deputy Director: Monica Kinyua

Monica has a heart of gold and drives CPI Kenya to achieve new feats. She and Hilary are a dynamic duo who could take the world by storm. She greeted me at the airport and she has made me feel so at home in Kenya since my first day. One of the highlights of my experience here was a weekend spent at her home in Kirinyaga County exploring tea plantations. Her generous and selfless spirit is unparalleled. Several years ago while in the field, she met a young boy who was nearly blind and in terrible health. She brought him back to Nairobi and has since raised him to be a thriving 9-year-old with a contagious smile and good marks in school.

She is a Rotary Ambassadorial Scholar and she holds a Master’s Degree in Peace Studies from University of San Diego, California, United States. She has more than 8 years experience working with children. The idea of CPI Kenya was born when she and her twin sister, Jane, took a vacation to Marsabit. It was on this trip that they met Hilary, who saw them playing with children and envisioned a peace building program involving similar activities. Ever since, Monica has been working hard to build CPI Kenya with Hilary into a successful children peace building model. She has a natural talent and ease when it comes to teaching. I love watching her engage with our beneficiaries and bring joy to CPI Kenya’s activities.

Drinking camel’s milk with Jane in Baragoi.

Program Director: Jane Kinyua

Jane is our incredible Program Director. As mentioned above, she and Monica are twins, which strongly contributes to the family-feel in the office. She says acknowledges the benefits of working with her twin, such as “shared dreams and visions that have made us great friends beyond being sisters. We offer each other great support and complement each other highly.”

The best way to describe Jane is as a people person. She is empathetic and thoughtful when interacting with beneficiaries in the field. She cares deeply about their stories and values their experiences. She is currently working on a book that tells the stories of the families who have been impacted by CPI Kenya.

She has worked as a Peace Consultant among the pastoralist communities in Marsabit, Samburu, Baringo and West Pokot Counties in Kenya. She has also worked with young people acquitted for juvenile crime within the government of Kenya’s rehabilitation schools under CEFA, an international NGO, for 3 years. In three weeks, she departs for San Diego to pursue her Master’s Degree in Peace Studies. “I hope to gain new knowledge and skills that will help me improve the quality of CPI Kenya’s programs to be able to measure its impact over the years and assess the value it adds to beneficiaries.” Jane adds, “I will have a special focus on role of women in peace building to widen my understanding on the role I can play to contribute to peace in Kenya and in the world at large.” I am thrilled to have her return to the US with me and she is planning to come spend a snowy Christmas with my family in New Hampshire!

Barbara is CPI Kenya’s new face of communications!

AP Associate: Barbara Maina

Ambitious and goal-oriented. These are some words that can be used to describe Barbara.She has recently joined the team as an AP Associate and as CPI Kenya’s communications director. When I interviewed her, I knew she was a perfect fit for our team as soon as she said her overarching goal in life is to contribute positively towards society.

She has just completed her degree in Social Communication with a major in print and web media from Tangaza University College. She has a diploma in administration and management from Strathmore University.She has over ten years of experience as an administrator and has previously worked in the banking industry, for a presidential campaign, and for various private consultancies in Kenya.

She is starting a new chapter of her career in communications. Her focus is documenting NGOs’ impact because she feels that many organizations fail to convey their great impact on the ground. Barbara is interested in contributing to humanitarian work by lending her skills to increasing CPI Kenya’s visibility and outreach. She has previously interned at Crown the Child Africa (CCA) and she is seeking to gain experience in communications for non-governmental organizations. Barbara dreams of pursuing a Master’s degree in Development Communication in the near future.

CPI Kenya and AP are excited to welcome Barbara on board. Her determination, focus, and communications skills will be a great contribution in increasing CPI’s social media presence and visibility to donors.

Michael and I couldn’t help but smile like fools on our first trip to the field.

Intern: Michael Avaga

Michael served as a local intern alongside me over the summer. He joins CPI Kenya from Uganda, a second-year student pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in Sustainable Human Development in the Institute of Social Ministry in Mission (ISMM) at Tangaza University College affiliated to the Catholic University of Eastern Africa. Michael is a Comboni brother with academic interests in justice, peace and conflict resolution—subjects he has learned much about through his summer internship with CPI Kenya. He currently serves as the chairperson of the Justice and Peace Commission (JPC) at Tangaza.

This internship has given him valuable, practical experience that has informed his studies. He said, “My favorite part of the internship was field work, especially Peace Camp and visiting school for Interactions for Peace. I learned how to plan and mobilize for peace building activities. I really developed my writing and research skills, while also enjoying time with children beneficiaries.”

Taken outside the office on my last day. Left to Right: Jane, Talley, Hilary, Barbara, Michael, Purity, Monica, Carol. Not pictured: our fearless driver, Francis.

Thank you CPI Kenya for the best summer an AP Fellow could dream of! I have a feeling that I’ll be back to Kenya before we know it…

My visit to Ramechhap

August 3, 2017 2:49 am 2 Comments

Manita and I in the office before our departure, with Bijaya and Prakash

Last week I made a visit to the most remote place I’ve ever been in my life: Ramechhap. Even though Ramechhap is only 140km away from Kathmandu, getting there is not easy at all. Ramechhap is a village in the middle of the mountains, and even though it looks beautiful once you are there, in order to arrive you need to get into a jeep that can drive through the one-way mountain ledge that acts as a road.

Manita and I embarked in this adventure in order to visit the 13 children that are currently in the CONCERN program in that district, and give them the uniforms and backpacks they will use during the academic year.

After our jeep broke down in the middle of the mountain and we had to use all of our drinking water to fix it because it was apparently overheated, we arrived to our destination. We were both exhausted, not only because our trip lasted 3 hours more than expected, but also because in order to get there we went through so many curves that we no longer knew where we were. After eating a delicious dal bat, we went to bed, excited for finally meeting the rest of the children of the program.

Panchakanya School, Ramechhap

The next day we all met at the local school: children, parents, the headmaster, the owner of the house we were staying at (who helped us organize the interviews), a middle-man or naike (who is usually the one who makes the contact between locals and the brick factories at the Kathmandu Valley and arrange their employment there during the brick making season), Manita and me. It was all a little overwhelming at the beginning. No one speaks English in Ramechhap, which meant that Manita had a double job: translating for me as well as organizing all the administrative paperwork with the headmaster. Moreover, even though we try to maintain confidentially when we do our surveys, the fact that EVERYONE was in the same room meant that such thing was impossible.

Giving Asmita her new uniforma and backpack

Manita and I had to act fast. If we let all the members of the community hear the answers given by the children and the parents, the data we collected would probably suffer from big biases…and we wanted to get the most reliable information possible. That is when we decided to split jobs: Manita did the interviews in Nepali (she is an expert now…she translated for me so many for Lalitpur and Bhaktapur’s beneficiaries that she knows the questionnaire by hard) and I was supposed to entertain the crowd to avoid them overhearing people’s answers.

Entertaining people when you are not able to verbally communicate is a challenge. Not even the mention of Messi saved me this time! After taking a thousand pictures, children and parents started to get impatient. And then I remembered some hands games I used to play in primary school…and decided to give it a try. In 5 minutes, I had all the children and parents playing with me! They even started playing with each other after they learnt the rules.

Chakra Bdr Manandhar. His house was destroyed by the earthquake and is still waiting for the government’s subsidy. He is a naike at a brick factory and the father of Sarita, one of CONCERN’s children

After the interviews were done, we did a small ceremony where we gave the children their new uniforms and backpacks. The smile on their faces made the entire trip worth it. Ramechhap is a remote village, which means that most of these children do not live close to school. They usually have to walk for hours in order to get there. The fact that they want to study, that they like going to school and learning new things is something to highlight. Also, many of the children of the program lost their home during the earthquake, and now live in improvised tents made out of metal sheet and dirt floors. And they still study, they still have goals and dreams in life, and I was honored to be a small part of it.

Goat from local farm

I was also shocked by the fact that most of the children in the program live with their parents only half of the year. During the brick-making season, parents migrate to the Valley and the children stay in Ramechhap with their grandparents or older siblings. In some cases, children also migrate and are employed by the brick factories. CONCERN knows about this reality, and that is why they are launching a new project: animal husbandry. Its nature relies on the fact that Ramechhap families report that they would not be forced to migrate during the brick-season if they had enough goats as to have a successful goat farming business in their district of origin. Manita and I also visited some goat farms in order to understand this initiative better.

After an intense day, Manita and I went to bed. We woke up very early the next morning in order to go back to Kathmandu. We were tired, but happy to have accomplished all of our goals!

CONCERN’s beneficiaries in Ramechhap

Beyond Toilets, a Community at GDPU

August 2, 2017 2:16 pm 304 Comments

The Gulu Disabled Persons Union (GDPU) sits on the outskirts of Gulu town as part of a large compound shared among six other disability organizations. The compound is made up of a basketball court and a number of small buildings clustered together that house the other organizations under GDPU’s umbrella: Gulu Women with Disabilities Union, Hope for African Disabled Persons & Orphans, Gulu Deaf Association, Gulu Blind Association, Gulu Landmine Survivors, and Gulu Wheelchair Basketball Club. All of these organizations apply for and host separate programs to support their specific beneficiaries with GDPU acting as the main contact point and organization for people with disabilities.

So what else goes on at GDPU besides building accessible toilets in local primary schools? A lot. I’m not sure that I know the full extent of it because the smaller associated organizations do not have a regular presence at their offices. In many cases, they act more as a gathering place for people with disabilities than they do as an organization with specific programmatic goals and objectives. But that is a key aspect of the purpose of GDPU: to serve as a gathering space and collective voice for people with disabilities in Gulu.

The Gulu Deaf Dance Club practicing on a recent Friday night.

Take, for instance, the Gulu Deaf Association. They are currently conducting a sign language training as a part of their ‘official work’, however, more frequently you’ll find the deaf dance club and the deaf soccer club practicing at GDPU than you would find a sign language class. Although looking back at that, I realize that it doesn’t instill a lot of confidence in the association; however, it is what the beneficiaries need. More than anything else, the deaf dance club and deaf soccer club are a time for people who are deaf or hearing impaired to come together, laugh, and support one another. At a recent deaf dance club session I joined, I was informed that one of the members, a girl who is only 16, was pregnant. Her family and partner are not there to be a support network for her, so her friends from the Gulu Deaf Association are trying to advise her and support her. Watching the group learn new dance steps and teach one another it’s obvious that they have a lot of fun when they’re together.

The Wheelchair Basketball Club serves a similar purpose for the players. Although the club currently has no funding, it is a chance for the athletes to get together, laugh, compete, and support one another. Started in 2007 with support from Comic Relief International as well as a couple other funders, GDPU now boasts a battalion of 39 sports wheel chairs and one of the best wheel chair teams in the country. Committed and talented, the local club practices on Tuesdays and Fridays at the basketball courts on the GDPU compound. Some of the athletes are trying out for the national team, and the Gulu wheelchair basketball team has won national competitions as well.

Playing basketball on the GDPU courts.

The camaraderie and support of these groups should not be under sold. Even if they operate with no funding or specific goals, they’re vital for the people taking part. As I’ll talk about in another blog, the stigma and misconceptions that PWDs face in Uganda leave many without support or social networks. This is the most important thing that GDPU does, they provide a social network when the family or institutional networks have failed.

Click here for more pictures from GDPU and the continued construction at Ogul Primary School.

Keeping Their Heads Above Water

6:23 am 122 Comments

From left to right: Phan That, his daughter Phan Thi Linh, and his wife Hoang Thi Que.

Phan That and his wife Hoang Thi Que live along the Gianh River, in a village around 35 miles north of the provincial capital of Dong Hoi. Their house lies in a cluster of houses across the road from the river itself, a location that has been a blessing and a curse for this family. As sea levels have risen, the Gianh has overflowed its banks more and more frequently. Mr. Luu, the AEPD outreach worker who serves families in this district, points out the second floor of Mr. That’s house as we arrive, telling me that it was added with AEPD support in 2015. This is a big help for the family, since when the house is threatened by floods—as happened late last year—the family can take shelter upstairs. But as I’m about to learn, this hasn’t made everyday life any easier.

Phan That is a man of around seventy, and unlike most Vietnamese men I’ve met he is bearded, sporting a Ho Chi Minh-style goatee. Mr. That and his wife greet me politely, but are somewhat less talkative than other AEPD beneficiaries I’ve visited. As we sit down to talk, another man arrives on a motorbike, and he is introduced as Mr. Loc, a policy officer for the local government, who is in charge of working with this family and other persons with disabilities in the area. During my conversation with Mr. That I notice that Mr. Loc is giving some of his responses for him, to a degree that’s never happened in any of my other visits, and for the first time since coming to Vietnam I briefly wonder if the government is trying to interfere with my work somehow. (Mrs. Que also doesn’t speak much, but that reflects a pattern I have seen in other families.) I don’t bring this up during the meeting, but afterwards Mr. Luu tells me that Mr. That’s mind is slower than it used to be, and he sometimes has trouble keeping up with questions—since Mr. Loc’s job is to work with disabled people, he knows this family well and is qualified to answer some questions on their behalf.

In conversation at Phan That’s house. From left to right: Phan That, Hoang Thi Que, Ngoc of AEPD, Mr. Loc of the local government, and AP peace fellow Jacob Cohn.

I ask Mr. That about his first experience with Agent Orange. He tells me that he was exposed to the poison during the American War while serving in the North Vietnamese military in Quang Tri, a province to the south around what used to be the Demilitarized Zone. He only came to realize the effect it would have on his family in 1979, when his first child, his daughter Pham Thi Linh was born. She was severely mentally handicapped from birth—she has never been able to speak to or understand her parents, can move only with difficulty, and has always required constant care.

Mr. That and Mrs. Que would go on to have two more healthy children, who are now married and live with their own families, but their fourth child, their son Pham Van Linh (born in 1985), has experienced the same symptoms as his sister. (Their youngest child, who lives on his own, has suffered from a mental condition that thanks to Google Translate I’m able to identify as schizophrenia, but the family isn’t sure that this is connected to Agent Orange.) There’s no cure for Pham Thi Linh and Pham Van Linh’s condition, but doctors from the local clinic regularly check on them, and medication can make their lives more comfortable. (The tonal marks that distinguish their given names are not used in English, so I will use their full names to avoid confusion.)

I ask about the family’s financial situation, and Mr. That tells me that he has a small farm, which only brings in enough income to cover around six months’ worth of basic expenses—the rest of the year, they’re dependent on government support and Mr. That’s military pension. Mr. Loc adds at this point that Agent Orange victims in this district receive a monthly welfare payment of 1,417,000 Vietnamese dong (around $62) per person as well as free health insurance. Nevertheless, Mr. That says that the family’s income only covers their day-to-day needs; they’re unable to put money aside for the future, and would be vulnerable to a future medical emergency or natural disaster. Mr. That and Mrs. Que also have disabilities and have become less and less mobile with age, so taking care of their children is a struggle for them. They’re dependent on their healthy daughter, Luyen, who lives nearby with her own family, and she comes every day to take care of her brother and sister. Mr. That and Mrs. Que are anxious about what will happen when they are no longer able to care for themselves, let alone their children.

The topic turns to the support plan we’ve developed in partnership with Mr. That. AEPD and the Advocacy Project plan to raise money to buy the family a breeding cow and calf, which Mr. That will raise (with help from relatives and neighbors). He plans to eventually sell the calf and breed the cow again so that it will give birth to a new calf he can raise. The cows’ dung can also be used and sold as fertilizer for farm fields. Mr. Luu says that the income from this will depend on the type of cow and calf they end up purchasing, but that the animals could generate as much as 20 million Vietnamese dong ($880) per year. Based on what I’ve already been told, I can tell that this would be a big deal for the family.

Mr. Loc points out the waterline during last year’s flood.

I ask about the problem of flooding, and Mr. Loc walks to the side of the house and points at a part of the wall around six feet above the ground—this was the water level during last year’s flood, and looking more closely I now see that the paint below this point looks slightly darker than above. Thanks to the improvements made with AEPD support, Mr. That says, the house is safer now, but the family needs to reinforce its tile roof with steel or iron to prevent water from getting in during future storms, something they currently can’t afford. I ask whether Mr. That has any particular goals, and he says, through Mr. Loc, that he hopes to develop a self-sustaining business starting with the cow and calf—this will make it easier for him to take care of his children for a long time and to maintain their health and well-being as best he can. After he and his wife become too old to care for them, however, Pham Thi Linh and Pham Van Linh’s care will depend on their sister Luyen. (Luyen eventually arrives as we are leaving to check up on her siblings.)

Pham Van Linh in his bedroom.

Before we leave I ask to see the two children (even as I write this I’m reminded that, despite my use of the word “children,” both are in their thirties). Pham Thi Linh has her own small room on the first floor; Pham Van Linh’s is on the second. Pham Thi Linh sits on her bed, looking off to the side as we arrive; she turns to look at us, and eyes me as her parents join her for a picture, but I can’t tell how much she understands. When I go upstairs I see Pham Van Linh lying on his own bed, eyes wide open and mouth agape. As his father enters the room, he gets up and walks with what looks like great difficulty—again, I can’t tell how much he understands of what’s happening, or how he feels about the situation. I leave without being able to promise anything to the family, but I tell Mr. That we’ll do what we can to get the cow and calf.

Advocacy Quilting: A Labor of Love by CPI’s Beneficiaries

July 31, 2017 11:41 am 334 Comments

Mama Caleb and Mama Faith unfurled a blanket in the shade of a tree and got to work on the quilt. The two women sat in silence for three hours while they meticulously beaded the cloth swaths I’d given them with impressive dexterity. Mama Faith stitched a camel in bright blue, orange, and yellow beads that matched her wide shanga, a handmade traditional necklace for Samburu women. To her left side sat Mama Caleb, who clenched a needle between her teeth and concentrated on the cow pattern on her lap.

Mama Faith, left, and Mama Caleb, right.

These Samburu mamas are both direct beneficiaries of CPI Kenya’s children peace building program. In Kenya, women’s identities seem to morph upon childbirth, at which time they are informally renamed “Mama [Insert Firstborn Child’s Name Here].” Mama Caleb, formerly Esther, is known by the name of her son, Caleb, who attended a CPI Peace Camp five years ago. Likewise, Mama Faith, officially Joyce, is called by the name of her firstborn daughter. The two matriarchs are cunning business women sporting fierce stares that break easily into warm smiles when greeted.

Mama Faith focuses on a camel square.

Their tenacious will to provide for their families at all costs is astounding. Mama Faith supports her children by trading goods across village lines using a banking app on her mobile phone called mpesa. Mama Caleb, long widowed, walks several hours from her hut to Logorate town to trade greens at her stall made of sticks and cardboard boxes. She used to sell the produce grown on her fertile farmland, but due to the drought her land is a dry, dusty patch of red soil and she must buy the greens that she later sells. Every three days, she can make about $3 to contribute to her children’s school fees and to feed the five grandchildren that live with her. In fact, I recently learned that Caleb is actually her grandson, who she raised as her own after her daughter got pregnant while still in school.

Hanging out with Caleb, who first introduced Mama Caleb to CPI in 2012 when he attended Peace Camp.

These women are pillars of their community and have grown to be great friends of CPI Kenya over the years. They are always overjoyed to give voice to CPI’s impact and provide testimonies of the social transformation they witnessed in their community thanks to the peace building program with children. It is this spirit of gratitude and faith in CPI that eventually led to me sitting in a field and watching them stitch animal patches for a quilt. The Advocacy Project has developed a unique promotional strategy that uses quilts to tell stories and advocate for organizations. The quilts have traditionally been hand-stitched to depict cultural symbols or images of struggle endured by beneficiaries.

Mama Caleb beading a heifer square.

Rather than embroidering designs on patches with thread, the CPI team wanted to make the project culturally contextual and create an advocacy quilt using beading techniques—a craft more authentic to pastoralist culture in Kenya than traditional quilting or embroidery. We had a vision of a quilt adorned in the same vibrant colors that embellish Samburu, Pokot, and Turkana women across northwestern Kenya. We wanted our advocacy quilt to be as local as possible throughout the entire production process, so we commissioned one of our beneficiaries, a Class 6 Samburu boy in Baragoi, to draw designs for the patches. We settled on four patterns that reflected CPI’s work and the pastoralist way of life.

1) A Heifer: a critical means of livelihood and status in pastoralist cultures. CPI Kenya rewards inter-tribal relationships with Heifers for Peace, which transforms a source of conflict and violence into a source of peace and friendship.

2) A Goat: a source of nourishment for pastoralists and prevalent in livestock herding. (I ate more goat at Peace Camp than you could imagine.)

3) A Camel: also a common livestock that is particularly valuable because of its resistance to drought that currently plagues the region.

4) A Woman’s Face with Tribal Headdress and Beads: a reflection of the women who have lost children to conflict and strive now for peace within their communities.

Showing off our designs.

The four designs were then transcribed onto 16 white cloth squares (4 each) by an artist in Nairobi. After the necessary beads and supplies were purchased, we traveled to the field to commission mamas to bead the squares. Mama Caleb was immediately on board and rallied her friend, Mama Faith, to join the cause. The women asked for nothing in return and were happy to give back to CPI Kenya. “What is motivating me to make the quilt is this program and what it has done for my family,” Mama Faith said emotionally. “Four of my children have made Pokot friends through CPI Kenya’s children peace building program.”

The program has had significant impact on Mama Faith’s quality of life. Immex program increased stability, inter-community trust, and permanent settlement in the area due to peace has secured her trading business to thrive and her customer base to extend across tribal lines. She also has received a Heifer for Peace from CPI that offers additional income. In addition to economic benefits, she cites social perks that have made her grateful for CPI. “I have made three Pokot friends who bring me food and I bring food over there to trade. They send me money via mpesa—not even to buy them anything, but just as a gift. Sometimes I wake up and go buy foodstuffs to take them just for being my friends. This makes me feel very happy.”

Smiling with Mama Faith, who made me this beautiful headress.

Smiling with Mama Faith, who made me this beautiful headdress.

Mama Caleb expressed similar sentiments towards the impact of CPI Kenya on her livelihood. Sustained peace in Samburu County is a very personal subject for her. She recalls sleeping under her bed during conflict to avoid stray bullets in case of attacks during a raid and waking up relieved to see her children were still alive. She lost a grandchild during a peak of violence when he succumbed to pneumonia after sleeping several nights in the cold while hiding in the bush from warriors. Having survived the conflict, Mama Caleb has an immense appreciation for peace and is dedicated to sustaining it. “Caleb attending Peace Camp changed my attitude. Now I believe I can live the rest of my days without being killed by Pokots,” she told me.

Keeping our tireless quilters company.

Mama Caleb currently has only four goats and no cows to support her family. Despite the daily hardships of her life, she is glad to spend the next few weeks beading squares for a quilt that will tell the tale of CPI’s work. Through the Heifers for Peace program, CPI hopes to give Mama Caleb a cow in the coming weeks to ease her burden and reciprocate her generosity. Mama Caleb and Mama Faith’s final product will be a quilt that is beaded with passion for peace and stitched in memory of the conflict they endured before CPI Kenya came to Samburu County.

Stay tuned for the advocacy quilt from Kenya! Until then, you can contribute to CPI Kenya’s Heifer for Peace project to support women like Mama Caleb and Mama Faith by donating to our Global Giving page here.

From Student to Teacher: The 16-Year-Old Peacemaker

10:36 am 68 Comments

“Peace Camp made me very happy,” Tanapa told me with a nostalgic smile. The 16-year-old Samburu boy and I stood in the corner of a dusty field watching the ongoing Peace Camp. I had met Tanapa two days prior when I had arrived at Logorate Primary School with CPI Kenya to host an inter-tribal Peace Camp for 276 Samburu and Pokot children. Tanapa and I looked on at the students, all from Class 5 or 6, as they shrieked and cheered during a three-legged race. The host school was still in session during the camp, and I had noticed Tanapa sneaking away from class to help in any way he could. Every time I turned around, I ran into this bright-eyed boy carrying supplies, moving equipment or clearing a space for the next Peace Camp activity. He was eager to get involved and contribute to the experience that had changed his life.

Tanapa, Class 8

Now in Class 8, Tanapa fondly remembered the Peace Camp he had attended in 2015. “I learned that if we make peace together with children, we’ll be able to make peace in the community. Children can make peace because once they have been educated, they go and tell their parents to teach them about peace.” The ripple effect of Tanapa’s education in peace and diversity spreading to his family is an explicit example of CPI Kenya’s mission.

“You know, when there was no Peace Camp, I hated Pokot. But since Peace Camp started, I have Pokot friends,” he divulged. Tanapa’s childhood memories of displacement, rustling, and raiding tell the tale of the conflict between pastoralists that burdened his community until 2012—when CPI Kenya arrived and conducted its first Peace Camp. “Pokots have stolen my cows. Before the conflict, we had so many cows. But then the Pokot started stealing them and we became poor and hungry.”

Tanapa participated in a CPI Kenya Peace Camp in 2015

Tanapa explained, “There are two things that cause conflict in the Pokot and Samburu communities. It’s the cows and the land.” The perennial violence between pastoralists is perpetrated and endured by both the Samburu and Pokot. Neither tribe is innocent of desperate attempts to secure their livelihoods through illicit land or livestock acquisition. Tanapa casually admitted that rustling cows had been common practice in those days of conflict. “My brother has stolen cows from Pokots, but they died in the drought. But I’ve seen that there’s a disadvantage to stealing cows because when you steal another person’s cow, it’s cursed by God,” he explicated.

I asked Tanapa if I could meet his parents, and he promised to bring them to me. They arrived by foot the next day as promised. His mother wore traditional attire and a brightly beaded necklace that she had made by hand. His father walked with a staff and wore a baseball cap. Heavy silver earrings weighed on the hammocks of his stretched earlobes. The couple greeted me with warm hugs then posed proudly for my camera. Tanapa, who speaks English beautifully, stood between us to translate.

Tanapa with his parents

His father shook his head and recalled, “The conflict was very bad. People migrated from village to village. No one went to the other side. But now a Samburu can go to Pokot land to look for a lost cow.” Tanapa’s parents, once deathly afraid of Pokots, now have Pokot friends in villages on the other side who they visit regularly. When I asked Tanapa’s mother how this transformation in the communities came to fruition, she responded “Peace Camp and God have brought us peace.”

While CPI Kenya’s presence on the ground has contributed to stability in the region over the last five years, the peacebuilding process is ongoing and Tanapa is ready to play an active role. “When I’m an adult, I’d like to be a peacemaker. I’m very about peace and I like peace so much. Earlier, I wanted to be a politician, but I saw that politics are not good. They make people fight. Politicians bring conflict and encourage tribalism between communities. But once I’m a peacemaker the people will not fight over politics.” This 16-year-old’s wise words resonate with the heightened political tension between tribes leading up to the August 8^th election. Tanapa has little faith in politicians’ ability to bring enduring peace to Kenya. Instead, he stated, “The way I want to bring peace, I want to lead the youths and talk together with them about peace. That will make the difference.” Once a young student at Peace Camp, Tanapa is now a young man with the knowledge, confidence, and leadership skills to promote peace in his school, his community, and his country.

Tanapa’s family is in line to receive a Heifer for Peace from CPI Kenya. You can become a peacemaker today and make a small contribution to Tanapa here.

This kid is on his way to greatness!

Ambiguous Grief

6:18 am 116 Comments

How do people grieve? How do people grieve when they live in a perpetual state of waiting?

On June 17th, 2017, NEFAD’s Director Ram Bhandari invited us to a memorial event hosted at the office of the Attorney General in Nepal and we bore witness to some of the ways families are coping. Bipin Bhandari, pictured on the left, was 22 years old when he was disappeared during the conflict. Dil Bahadur Rai was about the same age. Their fathers spoke at the start of the memorial service. Bipin and Dil had so much life left to live. As people filled the room at the office of the Attorney General, Prabal told us that all had a family member who had been forcibly disappeared. To see a room filled with mothers and fathers gazing at portraits of these two boys, draped in marigolds, offered a mere glimpse of the magnitude of grief faced by Nepali conflict survivors.

A series of speeches commenced, and I was surprised at the speeches’ political bent. The loss of Bipin and Dil is inextricably linked to the ten year conflict and subject to structural holdups. Because of this, survivors’ grief has been forced to encompass not just personal loss, but collective trauma and advocacy for political action. Speakers gave their testimony, some had temporarily been detained and disappeared themselves. Mostly, I sensed exhaustion. One woman expressed anger at the efforts of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission to “restructure itself rather than respond to victims.” With force she said, “We are tired of speaking on these issues.”

Charam Prasam, a prominent human rights activist in Nepal said something that resonates with people in all countries: “There must be a certain level of honesty in politics. Where is the honesty? Where is the accountability of the state?” as he critiqued Nepal’s transitional justice process.

There is a cruelty to the waiting families are experiencing. Enforced disappearance is illegal under international law, per the International Convention for the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance. Some say that the crime of enforced disappearances is a particularly cruel form of torture, withholding from them any truth about how or why their loved one perished. The Center for Victims of Torture describes the ambiguous loss that compounds grief,

“Indeed the psychological suffering associated with disappearance, a type of ambiguous loss, is an immense burden on the family members. Ambiguous loss differs from ordinary loss because it lacks closure or clarity without understanding of what happened or whether a loved one is actually gone. As a result, many question whether they should grieve the loss of a loved one or continue to hold out hope.”

Memorial services like the one we attended are one way that families have sought to remember their loved ones while processing their emotions. Grief is a profoundly human experience, and rituals for acknowledging it are passed from generation to generation – an unending link to traditions of the past.

When I arrived in Nepal, I felt ill-equipped to step into someone else’s grief, to ask families prying questions about something so personal seemed terribly intrusive. People’s grief is sacred. I didn’t want to cause them any more harm based on my ignorance. I worried about not knowing traditional grieving rituals. In an effort to familiarize ourselves with Nepali traditions on addressing death, Prabal Vicky and I visited Pashupathinath Temple, a place unlike any I have ever experienced before.

Pashupatinath River Bank

While not all families who experienced enforced disappearance are Hindu, many of the families I work with in Bardiya share the Hindu tradition. Prabal explained to us that in Hinduism, humans are said to be birthed at the river and to return to the river upon their death as they await reincarnation. Pashupathinath temple is a holy site for devotees of Shiva. It is built alongside a river bank that is lined with funeral pyres where bodies are cremated. Prabal guided us through the space, a place in which society is invited to share in death rituals.

I asked Prabal if it was ok for us to be there, sharing in the most difficult and emotional moments of people’s lives. Prabal said that it was, so we sought to be very respectful witnesses. It was striking how communal an experience funerals are at Pashupathinath. It is a place that invites reflection. We were very quiet, and I thought frequently about how families in Bardiya had been denied the right to these rituals. While terribly painful in and of themselves, rituals matter in grief. They don’t fix the pain, but as Prabal told us, cremation allows families to see that their loved one is gone. There whereabouts are no longer ambiguous.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our trip to Pashupathinath. It is a place that must be experienced, and not necessarily understood, but rather respected as a deeply holy place.

Learning about the ways families have shouldered grief without access to their rituals renewed my admiration for the ladies of Bardiya. They are resilience personified. While we were in Bardiya, we asked the members what they would name themselves. They chose The Bardiya Conflict Victims Cooperative. The Nepali translation of cooperative has a stronger connotation than the English word. It means mutually supporting and uplifting one another. I asked them more about their choice to identify as “Conflict Victims” rather than survivors. I admit that this decision initially surprised me. They said the choice was not because they considered themselves victims, but because the crimes committed against them were the platform that brought them together.

Fudiya Chaudhari, who I wrote about previously, explained, “Before we were united, it was very difficult to express our grief. We were alone in our homes. We became much stronger [after] sharing our grief to advocate with the state.” They named themselves, and I respect their name. The Bardiya Conflict Victims Cooperative is transforming their grief into mutual support and care. If that isn’t resilience in the face of grief, I don’t know what is.

The Bardiya Conflict Victims Cooperative

The Vote to Officially Constitute the Bardiya Victims Cooperative Photo by Vicky Mogeni

Reflecting on… Resettlement

July 25, 2017 2:43 pm 1 Comment

Reflecting on… Resettlement

The fact that only 1-2% of refugees are resettled is one that haunts me when I hear every day about the hopes these people have to be safe, rejoin family, and start a new life in the west. This uneasiness with the probability that most of these people will be stuck in Jordan hit me especially hard this week when a friend of mine revealed that her family was denied entry into Australia. She is an Iraqi Christian from near Mosul and cannot go back to her home, which was ransacked by Daesh. Her aunt is in Australia and she feels that she could have a future there but instead she is stuck in Jordan, where refugees are barred from working and her chances of upward mobility are slim. She is kind, resilient, and hilarious, but the Australian resettlement case managers don’t know that. She is just a number to them. Below I am going to share the profiles of two women I recently met. Refugees are not numbers; each person I meet has unique stories, hardships, and dreams. Here are Arweej and An’aam’s:

Arweej and her family lived in Iraq until Daesh invaded their hometown. They fled and were moved from Erbil to Ankawa before they reached Jordan. Arweej says that she and her husband don’t have work, residency, or security. The money they came with has run out, which she says is common with refugees. “Life is harder in Jordan. Plus, my husband’s leg is broken. The doctor is expensive; our first visit was 50 JD. Caritas does not help enough; they only give 10% and the rest we must pay. So, in terms of money, life is harder in Jordan,” Arweej elaborates. Arweej’s husband used to work as a carpenter, which she said was strenuous work; that is how he broke his leg. After, he was a chef in Iraq but here he is not allowed to work.

They have family in Australia, so Arweej’s family applied for resettlement there. They were denied. They began the application process for resettlement in France about two weeks ago and are waiting for the scheduled interview. Arweej has no one in France, but applying to Australia again costs too much so she and her husband decided not to appeal the decision.

“As Christians in Iraq, we felt like we didn’t have a place there anymore. Anywhere we went in Iraq didn’t feel like home. Not Erbil, not Ankawa,” says Arweej. Though the state of Arweej’s town is slightly better now, she says she cannot go back, “Our house was wrecked and there is no certainty that we will be safe. We want to go somewhere where we can relax; our souls are weary.”

An’aam and her family resisted leaving their home country of Iraq for as long as they could. “Despite everything, we didn’t want to leave Iraq. We thought in any state, our homeland was better,” she says. They waited for things to get better, until eventually the threat of Daesh was too high. An’aam’s son, now 3 years old, would hear planes flying overhead and ask her if they were coming to kill them.

Her and her family arrived in Amman in August 2016, hoping for safety and security. An’aam says living in Amman feels safer, but is more expensive and her husband cannot work. He was a doctor in Iraq, but Jordan’s laws forbid Iraqi and Syrian refugees from working. On top of this, her husband is sick and “the medicine was expensive enough in Iraq, but it’s worse here.” An’aam and her family receive some aid from different humanitarian groups, but it is not enough for food, rent, and medicine.

Three years near Mosul with the threat of Daesh made her and her husband tired. They would love to go to Australia or America, where An’aam has family and she could finally feel relaxed. An’aam says the waiting has been hard, but she has hope that God will help her and refugees like her.

Dad, Meet My Pokot Friend: A Story of Friendship Made at Peace Camp

11:04 am 346 Comments

Lotit drove his motorcycle up the gravel drive to the entrance of Logorate Primary School and parked outside a classroom overflowing with a choir of children’s voices. Lotit had traveled from his Samburu village to visit his daughter, Chebet, who was two days into CPI Kenya’s Peace Camp. When Chebet found her father leaning against his bike outside, she ran to him and started leading him by the hand towards the classroom. “I want you to meet my Pokot friend!” she exclaimed with elation.

Helen, Lotit, and Chebet

Though the Peace Camp was only two days under way, Chebet had already befriended Helen, a Pokot girl from Kasilangwa. The two girls in Class 6 had bonded quickly through shared laughter during activities such as musical chairs, relays, and teambuilding competitions. Most children take four to five days at the camp to develop strong bonds with each other, but Chebet and Helen became attached almost instantly. At the end of Peace Camp, CPI Kenya registers friendships formed across tribal lines in a process called “twinning.” Twins, such as Chebet and Helen, promise to pursue their relationship even after the Peace Camp’s conclusion.

Helen had never traveled to Samburu territory before and was anxious upon arrival. Her nerves were quickly quelled by Chebet’s smile and invitation to play. The friendship between the two was sealed as soon as Helen was introduced to Chebet’s father, Lotit. Helen had grown up hearing fearful stories of Samburus raiding villages and killing Pokots; she had never imagined shaking the hand of a Samburu man. In a matter of moments, Helen’s twelve years of assumptions, biases, and misinformation washed away with the warm embraces of Chebet and Lotit.

Helen, left, and Chebet, center, smile on Lotit’s motorcycle moments after meeting

Chebet and her family are no strangers to Pokots thanks to CPI Kenya’s peace building interventions in the Samburu County over the last five years. The family was first impacted by CPI Kenya’s outreach when Chebet’s older sibling participated in a previous Peace Camp. It is this past exposure that encouraged Chebet to come to Peace Camp with an open mind, an eager heart, and a willingness to make friends.

CPI Kenya’s children peace building program holds a special place in Lotit’s heart. Several years ago, he received a Heifer for Peace that he shares with his Pokot friend. This cow has been a blessing to the two families by providing extra income and sustaining their cross-cultural friendship. Unlike his open-minded children, Lotit witnessed the horrors of conflict between Samburus and Pokots for most his life. Up until CPI Kenya’s arrival in the region in 2012, Lotit had never known peace or the possibility of reconciliation with his Pokot neighbors. Through CPI Kenya’s peace building process, Lotit has been able to learn values of tolerance and diversity from his children. For this proud Samburu father, shaking his daughter’s new Pokot friend was just a small reminder of the social transformation that CPI Kenya has brought to the now peaceful region.

276 Samburu and Pokot children attended CPI Kenya’s July 2017 Peace Camp

The Guilt Question

8:49 am 3 Comments

A US plane spraying Agent Orange in Vietnam during the Vietnam War. Courtesy National Museum of the US Air Force.

In working with disabled people here in Vietnam, I’ve often had to stop and remind myself that the disabilities and diseases from which most of them suffer aren’t natural. Mai Thi Loi’s children and Duong Thi An’s children weren’t just born disabled for no reason—their disabilities are a direct consequence of US policy in Vietnam, and the military’s decision to contaminate the land with Agent Orange. (And yes, I’m aware that there’s some controversy over the extent of Agent Orange’s health effects—I hope to address that in a later post so I won’t get into it here.)

The reason I’ve had to remind myself about this is that the Vietnam/American War almost never comes up in conversation. Back in my very first post I predicted that the war would be central to my experience here, but that hasn’t been as true as I’d assumed. Most people I talk with are interested in my life in America and American culture, but none of them bring up American politics, Vietnamese-American relations, or the war. Perhaps that’s just politeness, but I suspect it’s indicative of something deeper. Most Vietnamese don’t remember the war, and even those who do have plenty of images or impressions of the US that aren’t focused on the war. (By contrast, I’d imagine the war is the first thing, maybe the only thing, most Americans think of if the subject of Vietnam comes up.) Even my conversations with individual victims of Agent Orange haven’t addressed the reasons why they were exposed in the first place, and none of them have seemed concerned or angered by the fact that I’m American.

In other words, during the course of my work in Vietnam, the issue of guilt or responsibility for the use of Agent Orange hasn’t really been an issue. But should it be?

Legally, at least so far, the answer seems to be no. Chemical weapons are illegal under international law, but Agent Orange wasn’t actually meant as a “weapon”, at least not officially—it was an herbicide used to destroy forests and crops at the South Vietnamese government’s request, and its impact on humans was only understood later. (Whether, and when, the US government knew it was poisoning civilians is hotly debated.) A treaty signed after the Vietnam War (and ratified by the US) outlawed this kind of “war against the environment”—but in the 1960s, the US government says, there was no law against using herbicides in war. This argument has prevented Vietnamese victims or the Vietnamese government from claiming reparations in court.

In the early 2000s a prominent victims’ rights group called the Vietnam Association for Victims of Agent Orange/Dioxin (VAVA), which works with many of the same families as AEPD, filed suit in a federal district court against the US companies that manufactured Agent Orange. VAVA claimed that the use of Agent Orange violated international law and that its manufacturers owed compensation to the victims. The court’s 2005 ruling, later upheld by an appeals court, found that Agent Orange “was used to protect United States troops against ambush and not as a weapon of war against human populations” and that its use didn’t violate international law at the time. (VAVA has been unable to sue the US government itself because of a legal doctrine called “sovereign immunity,” which prevents lawsuits against the federal government without the government’s consent.)

Two paralyzed victims of Agent Orange, Phuong and No.

I don’t have enough legal knowledge to properly defend or rebut this line of argument. Based on what I’ve read, it seems to make sense based on the letter of the law. But from a moral standpoint it also feels like a dodge. The fact remains that the US manufactured and used a poison that has destroyed or horribly warped the lives of thousands of Vietnamese and Americans—many of them civilians, many of them children—and that’s not something we can simply turn our backs on. Having met some of the victims, I can’t imagine looking any of them in the eye and telling them that their disabilities are simply an accident, that they don’t have a right to some form of justice. My own belief is that Americans who love their country, as I do, should have the courage to confront the true consequences of our policy in Vietnam—not so much out of a sense of guilt as a sense of responsibility to do what we can, even at this late date, to support victims and right wrongs to the extent that we can.

American victims of Agent Orange have had some success in the long, slow battle for the recognition and support they deserve (see this excellent series for details on how that battle is being fought today). Vietnamese victims receive compensation from the Vietnamese government (usually around $17 a month in 2010)—but most of the families I’ve spoken to, while acknowledging this support, add that there’s not much assistance to go around. Many still can’t afford basic expenses, let alone proper medical care. International NGOs and foundations, including American ones, also provide humanitarian assistance to Agent Orange victims, but so far, the US government’s contribution has been minimal.

The good news is that the last decade has seen some positive steps, especially as Vietnam and the US have grown closer diplomatically. Since 2006, the US has spent tens of millions of dollars through USAID on environmental decontamination efforts around former US military bases in Vietnam. A fraction of these funds go to support public health and assistance programs for persons with disabilities. Yet victims’ advocates say that the money contributed so far is a very small percentage of what is needed, both to compensate victims and to remove the last traces of contamination from Vietnamese soil. Perhaps more significantly, all US disability assistance programs apply to any disability, regardless of cause—the government hasn’t formally acknowledged Vietnamese victims of Agent Orange as a group.

A few politicians have been supportive of Vietnamese victims, and a congressional committee actually invited one to testify for the first time in a 2010 hearing on the subject. More recently, Representative Barbara Lee of California introduced a bill, the Victims of Agent Orange Relief Act of 2017, which would recognize the rights of Agent Orange victims in Vietnam and designate funds specifically to support them. But I know enough about politics to realize that the chances of such a bill passing anytime soon are pretty much nil (Lee has introduced the same bill before to no avail), and that US assistance is if anything likely to decrease as the foreign aid budget is cut. Right now it’s hard enough for Americans to mobilize our government to work for us, and Vietnamese victims of Agent Orange—poor and marginalized citizens of a faraway land—are without votes, money, or other means of influencing the makers of US foreign policy.

The only hope for justice, and for true reconciliation between the US and Vietnam, is for enough Americans to support it that our government is compelled to act. I’m not optimistic about this, but if I can accomplish one thing while I’m here, I hope it’s to share the stories of Vietnamese victims of Agent Orange and draw people’s attention to their plight and to this issue more generally. We haven’t really reckoned with Agent Orange as a society, but it’s not too late.

“Our Memories are in Our Eyes”

4:08 am 6 Comments

An art instillation by Martin Travers from the International Day of the Disappeared 2017. The painting renders a family member with their disappeared loved ones etched in the eyes, symbolizing a continued search for answers. Photo by Prabal Thapa.

It is easy to forget in the hustle, bustle, and laugher of the embroidery process that the members of the Bardiya Conflict Victims Cooperative have all experienced deep trauma. So often we use these blanket terms, ‘loss’ and ‘grief’ but each one is shaped like a person, just as individual as a thumbprint. ‘Enforced Disappearance’ is not really a noun. It is a verb that continues to be lived by women like Fudiya Chaudhari.

Fudiya Chaudhari (right) works with a friend on her embroidery

Through Ram Kumari and Prabal Thapa’s linguistic translations from Tharu to Nepali to English, Fudiya bravely shared her sorrow, and allowed me to share some quotes with you today. She is still waiting for answers about her son Krishna’s disappearance in 2002. He was 20 years old at the time. So very young. She told me that she cares more about knowing the truth of what happened to him than about who is guilty of the crime. For her, the investigation process is about truth rather than vengeance.

Sabitra Thapa’s Hands

In my reflections in my voice journal, I’ll also introduce you to Sarita and Sabitra Thapa. Sarita is a true leader, and she attributes her determination to her mother. The two of them are some of the loveliest people I have ever known. Sabritra’s husband was disappeared, and Sarita lost a father. After his loss, Sabrita started a shop in Bardiya to support her family. Her business serves Nepali milk tea, delicious donuts, and other treats. She reminded me of my own grandmother in her insistence that we eat more before we left. We made daily visits to her shop. Despite so much hardship, Sarita and Sabitra are leaders in their community and in the cooperative. Their hospitality knows no bounds, and they even invited us to their home for dinner, for one of my favorite nights in Nepal so far.

Hospitality: Sarita and her mother Sabitra Thapa at their tea shop in Bardiya.

Listen to Fudiya’s profound words and my (less profound) reflections here:

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Update:

A huge thank you to all who donated, shared, and sent good wishes for our Global Giving project. It has been fully funded!

Conversations about Hinduism.

1:47 am 2 Comments

As religions and belief systems go, I had limited exposure to Hinduism prior to arriving in Nepal. In the past 5 weeks, however, I have learnt some basic principles of the religion from Prabal and trips to various temples, open to visitors such as the Pashputinath and the Golden temple. According to Prabal, “Hinduism is not a religion, it is a way of life.”

Golden Temple, Patan

On our last night in Bardiya, as Sarita and her mother prepared us dinner in their home, Prabal, Kirstin and I discussed some of the basic principles and problems of life. Prabal posed a question to us about the philosophies of life. Listen below as we attempt to guess the four problems of life according to Hinduism.

Success stories: introducing Ekaman Shrestha

July 24, 2017 6:02 am 6 Comments

Up to now I’ve been sharing stories about the current beneficiaries of CONCERN. Their background, their parents and the reality they face. I’ve also talked a lot about the importance of education, and how going to school will provide these children with a better, brighter future.

Today I want to share the story of Ekaman Shrestha, and give a particular example of how CONCERN’s program can actually change someone’s life for the better.

Ekaman Shrestha

I met Ekaman at CONCERN’s office last week. I was having a rather low-key day updating CONCERN’s webpage when a very lively man came in with Bijaya. They both looked very happy to be seeing each other, and even though they were speaking Nepali, I could tell they were sharing exciting news.

Ekaman turned out to be a former employee of CONCERN. He worked here for over 10 years! But most importantly, Ekaman is a former beneficiary who is now a teacher at a local village, Ghorka. He came to Kathmandu for a couple of days…and I was lucky enough to hear his story!

Ekaman moved to Kathmandu with some friends from his village when he finished his SLC (School Leaving Certificate) to look for better opportunities. He ended up working as a porter at a local market, carrying loads for a couple of rupees. During his time as a porter, he got in touch with CONCERN and become a beneficiary, as they had a program to end child labor in that market at that time.

CONCERN took care of all of Ekaman’s education expenses, and thanks to his determination and hard work, Ekaman finished his education and went to get his diploma at Tribhuwan University. CONCERN also gave him the opportunity to start his professional career at their organization as a field officer. That’s where he realized he wanted to work with children and grew the desire to become a teacher.

Ekaman and Bijaya, CONCERN’s director

Ekaman has been a rural government teacher since 2010. He is determined to not let the kids in his class go through what he went through as a child worker. But he is a very down to earth man, and knows that education alone is not enough. He told me that to end the problem of child labor in Nepal, it is necessary to both educate and empower the kids. For him, it is the role of the government as well as NGOs not only to provide the means so that kids can go to school, but also to make them realize that they can achieve great things with that education. They need to know they are the owners of their lives.

Ekaman is still looking forward to the next step in his career. His plan is to do a Masters now. Actually, the reason he was in Kathmandu was to try to get a position as a permanent teacher in the capital in order to be able to continue working and study at the same time.

Ekaman is the perfect example of how CONCERN’s program gave a talented, hard working kid that lacked resources the opportunity to fulfill his potential. I hope there can be more Ekamans in the future!

When I asked him if he had any messages for the current beneficiaries, he just said: focus on education first. I hope you enjoy Ekaman’s story as much as I did.

Construction Challenges and Creative Solutions

July 20, 2017 11:35 am 2 Comments

Coming into this summer, I knew there would be delays and challenges to completing the accessible latrine project, which is why I was happy that construction began so early into my time here.The civil construction is an infrastructure development and maintenance company which helps you in your project. Starting early gave us a buffer when delays inevitably happened. When I worked at Habitat for Humanity I remember work on homes being delayed because contractors didn’t finish their work on time, volunteers didn’t show up, materials weren’t delivered or were delivered to the wrong site. And most understandably, the one that delays projects the world over, there were weather issues. We’ve dealt with these same delays in Gulu. It is rainy season here in Uganda and we’ve lost days of work due to rain, there have been obstacles like materials not being ordered on time, and of course the often poor infrastructure can cause a variety of headaches. However, there have also been new challenges that have delayed work that I wouldn’t have expected, especially with all the waste, but luckily I was able to get a dumpster to be able to dispose of everything properly, there’s more from trashking.ca if you need information.

Sometimes things just take longer because your car might sink.

Twice a week Patrick from GDPU and I go to check on Construction Companies at Ogul Primary School and to hear about any potential problems that have cropped up. Earlier on in construction there was a growing conflict between the community and the school. The root of the conflict was two fold – first of all there was a muzungu involved in the project. This fact can lead people to believe that the project has somewhere near unlimited funding to tap into. It makes sense when you see the amount of projects that go on in Gulu run by or involving muzungus. Secondly, there is widespread corruption across Uganda causing many Ugandans to assume that any contract, project, business deal, or everyday transaction involves someone getting paid a little extra. These twin beliefs caused parents to assume that the head teacher was getting a cut of the money for the project and, more importantly, wasn’t sharing.

I was initially a little shocked thinking that GDPU’s reputation would have preceded us and that we were very above board with what we were doing. But my shock didn’t matter, to keep construction on schedule we wanted to quickly dispel this rumor. Within a couple days we met with the village leaders and school management committee to go over the MOU that was signed between the construction company, GDPU, and Ogul Primary School. Copies were made for everyone so that they could take them home. The MOU accounted for all money spent and made clear that the school was not receiving anything besides the latrines. Although this helped to dispel the suspicions and also gave us more advocates in the community, there was still some skepticism.

To a community that is used to government officials lining their pockets instead of paving roads, a good thing isn’t always just a good thing. There is still the expectation that someone, somewhere is getting paid money they shouldn’t. I visit twice a week or more to check on construction and to help to manage some of these issues. Despite the fact that I feel like sometimes my presence does more harm than good (like causing the above problem), I feel like the community and students have gotten used to me.

Students of Ogul PS helping out during their lunch break.

Despite weather and material delays, we are getting close to finishing. In another week and a half or so I’ll have pictures of a beautiful new accessible latrine freshly installed at Ogul Primary School. Looking back on the last few weeks of construction and the challenges associated with it I’ve witnessed and been forced to be creative in finding solutions.When the parents are refusing to bring water because they feel it is not being used properly, GDPU and the school work together to create better communication between the construction foreman and the community leaders. My co-worker Patrick is brilliant at these types of work arounds, especially when I’m sure he can tell that I’m two steps from picking up a jerry can to fill with water to just get the work done.

Quick thinking, respect, humor, communication, and a little bit of trust from the community have all helped to keep this project going. I’ve learned a lot from Patrick and hope to carry what I’ve learned forward in the work that I do. These delays and challenges have also given me good tips for the next accessible latrine project. Chief among them, get the community on your side early, and keep them there.

Patrick and I checking on the latrine construction.

Bardiya At Last

July 19, 2017 7:12 am 4 Comments

Bardiya District

One landslide, many plates of dal bhat, and a full 24 hour bus ride later, we had reached Bardiya. For those who are counting, that’s seven hours more than expected. In the end, it took me longer to get to from Kathmandu to Bardiya than it took me to cross three continents and several oceans from the United States to Nepal.

There wouldn’t be time to rest. In the previous weeks, we had prepared a work plan that included consulting the group about their business plan, training on embroidery quality (facilitated by tips from American quilting partners), and developing a plan for a savings group as a financial management tool. Most importantly, we would finally meet the group of creative, strong, survivors we had heard so much about.

Pictured above are Tilak Rani, Bhabisara Tharu and Sharada Tharu, just a few of the incredible women I was about to encounter. Talik arrived early for the embroidery training and told us she had spent the morning working to plant in the field, and completing housework at home. On top of all of this, she was going to put in another full day’s work of training, embroidery, and business planning. Bhabisara and her sister Puja both participated in the training. Sharada is the incredible public speaker, who I describe in my voice journal (below). Snippets of their stories are available if you click their names.

I distributed embroidery hoops to start the training. Photo by Prabal Thapa.

The ladies were about to put me through my paces. To hear about the ladies, some mistakes, and my impromptu concert, all on Day One, have a listen:

Click here to donate to our project for the Bardiya Conflict Victims Cooperative.

Living the Nepali Dream

5:31 am 8 Comments

We all grew up with the notion of the “American Dream”, the upward mobility trend that countries like the US experienced back in the 40’s and up to the 80’s. The American Dream is based on the idea that family background does not determine a child’s chances to success. That a child’s social and economics opportunities do not depend upon his parent’s income or social status. On the contrary, the American Dream translates into equality of opportunities for prosperity and success, and therefore a real chance for children to experience greater levels of wellbeing than those of their parents.

Meeting CONCERN’s moms

The American Dream seems to have been fading away for some time now. People in my generation think it is almost impossible to even resemble the way of life our parents provided us, and do not even think about being able to give their children a similar standard of living that the one we had as kids.

But it doesn’t have to be that way everywhere. Sometimes there are small lights of hope. And I was able to experience one in Nepal.

This week we went back to the field to interview the parents of the children CONCERN is currently supporting as part of their education program. We wanted to know more about the family structure and dynamics, their housing conditions, and what do parents think about education. We also needed to collect written authorizations for publishing the pictures, videos and information of the children – something crucial for CONCERN.

Using fingerprints as authorization for using pictures and information of CONCERN’s children

We arrived at the first school and almost 10 mothers were waiting for us. Excited to be interviewed but also hesitant to answer some personal questions. But the biggest shock there was the one I had when I noticed none of the mothers could read or write. These are smart women, between the ages of 25 to 40, who work hard every day either in brick or garment factories to be able to support their families….and they were just never given the opportunity to learn how to write their own names.

This shocked me. As I said, this is not my first time working in the developing world with marginalized communities. But it certainly was the first time where most of the grown ups I interviewed were not able to read or write. In Nepal literacy rate is around 65%. Just to compare, the lowest literacy rate in Latin America can be found in Guatemala, and it is almost 80%. It is important to add that there are important disparities between genders: 76% of men can read and write in Nepal, compared to 53% of women.

The fact that these moms were not able to read or write meant we had to explain to them what the written authorization said. After having their verbal consent it was time for them to sign. But once again, none of them could do so…so we improvised. We used our pens to paint their thumbs with ink so they can put their fingerprints where there was supposed to be a signature.

Working hard!

The interviews went well. Thanks to Manita and Sundar who were translating and adjusting my questions, we got the information we needed. All the moms agreed that education is necessary so that their children can succeed in life. One thing is for sure: thanks to their willingness to send their kids to school and the support of CONCERN who finances their education, these kids will know how to sign a document in the future. They will know how to read and write. They already are one step further in life than their parents.

Even if it is a small step, CONCERN children are living the “Nepali dream”. They have more opportunities already than their parents had throughout their entire life. And thanks to the support of CONCERN and their families, and the fact that they are hard working and super smart, I’m sure they will also climb the social ladder and be better off than their parents. They will experience that social upward mobility that we heard our grandparents and even our parents talk about. There is hope!

Remember that our donation campaign in Global Giving is still accepting contributions. Make your donation today!

Incubating Social Change in Tripoli

5:13 am 73 Comments

Peace Labs office in Tripoli

In order to maintain a presence in, and demonstrate its commitment to, northern Lebanon, Peace Labs recently opened a new office in Tripoli. The office is housed in one of the apartments owned and operated by the SHIFT Social Innovation Hub, an organization co-founded by Bilal Al Ayoubi based in Tripoli that serves as an incubator for community development, youth engagement, and social entrepreneurship.

SHIFT buildings

When Bilal finished his contract with USAID’s Office of Transition Initiatives (OTI) in early 2015, he and some friends and colleagues from OTI (Omar Assaf, Hani Alrstum, and Khaled Hamid) wanted to create something sustainable before leaving the work in the city and cutting the ties and relationships they had been building with people in the city. What they decided to do was create a platform – a hub – on one of the front lines between Jabal Mohsen and Qobbe (two neighborhoods between which there had been years of tensions and recent violent conflict).

View from one of the Shift rooftops SHIFT neighborhood

The motivation was to focus on getting people together. Without a clear idea about the best way to get people from these communities in one place, working on a shared project, the team acquired and started renovating an apartment in an area called Baqqar. Although not on Syria Street (the main front line of the conflict) and therefore not as visible in the media, Qobbe shares other aspects, such as poverty, illiteracy, unemployment, etc., but with fewer NGOs active in the area.

Embroidered keychains from Basmeh wa Zeitooneh’s women’s workshop (basmeh-zeitooneh.org/our-programs/womens-workshop)

In this space, they were planning to create a cultural center to bring people on board until they developed stronger relationships with the community; however, the people were mostly interested in job opportunities, and therefore, they started to focus more on social entrepreneurship as a means to get both communities working together not only to solve social problems, but also to generate income.

Culinary training at SHIFT

SHIFT was the first, and is still the biggest, social entrepreneurship hub in the city that focuses primarily on incubating initiatives and social enterprises in order to create jobs, get people to work together, and think about the conflict and the situation in a different way. Rather than obstacles or challenges to living a meaningful and rewarding life, residents are encouraged to see their problems as potential sources of income, for example, a recycling project that started in the area, or even a local NGO or entity that addresses local problems.

Saad Al Suud Foundation uses SHIFT community kitchen as an incubator

Fresh baked bread at SHIFT’s community kitchen

Since then, SHIFT has grown and now operates nine apartments, which feature a rooftop terrace, cultural spaces that host films and book readings, a community kitchen where they incubate local initiatives related to catering and food-creation jobs, as well as rooms for NGOs and initiatives that want to work in the city but can’t invest in the start-up costs for big offices.

Children’s activities of Bassme Wa Zeitooneh… hosted at SHIFT

SHIFT has conducted training for communities affected by the conflict, or for those who lost relatives, on how to create their own business and/or benefit from small grants; offered vocational training for women; participated in a social entrepreneurship competition; and hosted two screenings for the Tripoli Film Festival. They are now working with an international NGO to identify skills and capacities of certain youth groups in order to give meaningful, useful, enjoyable, and hopefully long-term vocational training.

View from one of the SHIFT rooftops

Organizations like Shift are necessary and important for the work they do. By providing a space to incubate social enterprises (both businesses and NGOs), SHIFT makes a significant contribution to social change and the empowerment not only of the residents of the areas in which they work, but of the city more generally as well.

View from one of the SHIFT rooftops of one of the former frontlines of the conflict

For more about SHIFT, see the leaflet below, or find them on facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/shiftsocialinnovationhub/

*All photos courtesy of SHIFT

Who Needs Air Conditioning Anyway?

4:56 am 4 Comments

Highway on the way to Bardiya

Continued from a previous post: Landslide.

At this point, the bus was in desperate need of an equipment upgrade and so cut the engine, the fans, and the air conditioning. We sat, sweltered, and waited. I was most impressed to see mothers and small children waiting out the heat and playing calmly. In the United States, I don’t know if I’ve ever witnessed that kind of patience from kids traveling. I could have just gotten a fan from the list of tower fans online if the AC broke when we were back there. After a period, Prabal leaned forward and asked us, “have you ever spent the night on a bus before?” Vicky returned his question with another,

“Are you trying to prepare us?”

A misty mountain scene from the bus window

Sharing a sense for the ridiculous, Prabal, Vicky, and I burst out laughing at the question. If you were going to be stuck, it was good to know I was with friends who had good senses of humor.

As the time wore on, at least three hours passed, the lack of a fan became more and more uncomfortable. Occasionally, the bus would move 20 feet forward before abruptly halting again, dangling the hope of forward movement. We relied on a cross breeze through the narrow windows to wait out the heat, not knowing the status of the debris removal, or if we might have to turn back to Kathmandu. Vicky fanned herself with her book, Purple Hibiscus, while I started shedding layers. Eventually, the bus drivers emerged to inform us that in order to continue onwards on a different route that would add 4 hours to the trip and pass through Pokhara, they would be charging each passenger an extra 500 Nepali Rupees (roughly 5 dollars) for the additional gas and air conditioning costs incurred. The bus erupted.

No one was pleased, and negotiations ensued as disgruntled passengers communicated their objections. Meanwhile, the bus stayed put.

It appeared that the bus drivers were trying to sweat us out.

I should note here that in Nepal, on long trips like ours there are a team of bus drivers who share the front compartment. The drivers rotate throughout the trip and the team jumps out when there is debris in the road, and has signals for tapping the sides of the bus when it is in a tight squeeze or moving in reverse. The team helps watch for major pot holes too. To give you a sense for the hazards on the road, and the physicality of this bus ride, my phone’s step counter app recorded 17,000 steps that day. I had been sitting for that entire time period. It was the up-and-down of the bus that convinced my phone it had been a much more active day.

Back to the negotiations: while $5 doesn’t seem like much by American standards (and to be honest, it was hot enough that I was ready to promise my first born child if it would get the bus moving again), 500 Nepali rupee is a very large sum of money. For agricultural workers, it is the equivalent of almost two weeks wages. I don’t know the circumstances of everyone I was traveling with on the bus, but while I may have been ready to do anything to get the bus going, 500 rupees was an exorbitant amount to ask of everyone.

Vicky and Prabal

As the sun lowered in the sky, the bus grew quieter, caught in a negotiation deadlock. And then, through the cracked open windows, we heard a beautiful singing begin. Chanting from a Hindu temple nearby lulled the bus riders into a calm, and things seemed to cool down. Listen here:

The bus started once more as we pulled away from the beautiful chorus, and finally stopped in front of a roadside restaurant. It was time for some Dal Bhat.

By the time we returned to the bus, the negotiations had ceased. We would all pay 300 rupee and travel on to reach our friends in Bardiya.

Click here to donate to our project for the Bardiya Conflict Victims Cooperative.

Transitional Justice and the Arts.

3:27 am 1 Comment

“Transitional justice is not only a matter of law, but also a process of making sense of the past.” This can take various forms and one powerful form is through testimony including in the form of the arts.

The five official mechanisms of transitional justice; criminal prosecutions, truth-seeking, reparations, memorials and institutional reform all work interdependently for a society to come to terms with a violent and painful past. However, they can face limitations including mandates, resources, political will and many more. In certain cases, depending on the culture, customs and context, the arts can be a way to fill these gaps. This is not a post advocating for the arts, as a panacea for healing. Instead, whether it be through film, theater or music, the arts provide a platform for communities to share their stories, to remember their loved ones and to speak of the unspeakable.

I began reflecting on transitional justice and the arts after having the opportunity to attend a literary magazine launch in Kathmandu known as La Lit Magazine. Their 8^th volume: Translations from the Margins is a compilation of literary works, translated from Nepali to English consisting of short stories, essays and poems from Nepalis in marginalized societies across the country. The literature which spans various themes was translated by professional translators and among the works translated and included, were stories from the conflict and from families of the disappeared.

-Excerpt from ‘Where is He?’ By Durga Kaphle

In the stillness of the dark night,

Brandishing their black guns –

The Armed Police

Took him away in a black car

For interrogation.

That must be why, even now

They never search for him

Nor give truthful answers

Why play with a man’s life?

-Translated by Itisha Giri

-Recited at the International Day of the Disappeared, August 30^th

As development and humanitarian workers, translation is a vital part of the job. I don’t often however think of it as an art. Being bilingual, I can understand that there are some words that cannot be directly translated or stories that cannot be narrated in the same way, in two different languages. What I haven’t given much thought to before, is the power and responsibility that this in fact gives the translator. They are responsible for using different words to convey the same message. The launch of LaLit magazine was hosted at the Nepali Tourism Board and included a panel of three professional and well-renowned translators who addressed some of these issues of power and responsibility in translation.

Launch of La.Lit Vol. 8: Translations from the Margins

The panel included three prominent translators and writers in Nepal, Ann Hunkins, Muna Gurung and Sulochana Manandhar. Each panelist discussed the importance of translation and what it meant to them personally. Some of the key themes from the panelists were the fact that translating in person is quite different from translating pre-written work. Hunkins shared that particularly when translating sensitive issues, “there is an emotional bond between the translator and the person telling their story, their pain comes through you.” The panelists also spoke on the importance of accuracy in translation. This relates to the amount of power that the translator has. In situations where certain words cannot be directly translated, there can be an interference in the story and “the translator can accidentally take away agency from the writer.” Finally, was the issue of losing languages and the fact that “translation makes people want to go towards being all the same.” On our way to tea after the event, Prabal shared his own reflections on this point including the fact that “there needs to be more translations from English to Nepali as well.”

Selfies with Prabal and Kirstin at the magazine launch.

The discussion on translation was incredibly insightful but the main take way for me was that this was an opportunity works of art from all across Nepal to be able to connect to and reach a wider audience. The short stories and poems in La Lit’s 8th volume touched on a number of aspects of Nepali society including family, heritage and dreams. Particularly with regard to stories of the conflict, literature, film and theater have served as a way to document atrocities but also to share various understandings of what happened and interpretations of of ‘reconciliation’. According to Ram Bhandari, founder of NEFAD, “Art can be a way build the movement and the fight” in Nepal. The arts can produce new memories and experiences, mitigate politicization of memorial events, reveal hidden traumas, creating a space to grieve, forgive and heal.

-Excerpt from ‘Disappeared’ By Anbika Giri

They wanted to know for certain, even if he were dead. I too wanted to know, though not of his death but that he was still alive. And I wanted to twist his ear and ask, “Why did you make us cry so much?”

-Translated by Prawin Adhikari

Recognizing this, NEFAD and family associations across Nepal have provided such platforms and given survivors an opportunity to tell their stories through theater programs and art. The 2016 International Day of the Disappeared, on August 30th, hosted by NEFAD in collaboration with The Mandala Theater featured wall art, and staged a drama to recreate memories and serve as a form of commemorating the disappeared as well as sharing testimony of the troubles that families have faced as a result of disappearances.

Painting by German Artist, in Bardiya District, Bhurigaun. The painting is a representation of families searching for their disappeared family members.

The event also included lighting of candles and was titled, “Where are they?” We hope to visit Mandala theater in the next few weeks and learn more about the power of the art displayed there.

Excerpt from ‘Disappeared’ by Anbika Giri

“I have a big mission,” I growled with a finger pointed at him. “I still have to line you up and shoot down all of you who are too busy enjoying the fruits of power instead of searching for your disappeared cadres!”

I roared with such rage that it left me trembling. Everybody at the Party office was stunned for a moment. Then I was thrown out.

-Translated by Prawin Adhikari

Story of a Peacemaker: Brokering Peace & Development

July 18, 2017 10:23 am 81 Comments

I first met Bilal on my second day interning at Peace Labs (third day in Lebanon) when I went with the director (JP) and another intern to meet him at a café in a nearby mall. He was fasting at the time (only a few days after the start of the holy month of Ramadan), and I was only a bit jetlagged, but he was, without a doubt, much more focused and coherent than I was as he passionately and articulately described possible projects and potential partnerships for Peace Labs in Tripoli.

Bilal received a baptism by fire in conflict prevention/mitigation and development in 2007, following the July 2006 war on Lebanon, and he’s been working in the field ever since. He started at the UN where he worked at the office of the United Nations Resident Coordinator Office (UNRCO) which coordinated the work of UN agencies involved in the reconstruction and recovery of the southern suburbs of Beirut, and, following the clashes in the Nahr el-Bared Palestinian camp, he then moved to the North Lebanon office of the UNRCO, which is responsible for coordinating activities within an organization that is infamously bad at coordinating. While there, he worked on the reconstruction project for the Nahr el-Bared camp which was destroyed during the fighting between the Lebanese Armed Forces (LAF) and a militant group in the camp, Fatah al-Islam (not to be confused with Fatah, the political party that governs the Palestinian National Authority in the West Bank).

Before 2007, Nahr El-Bared was considered a trading hub in the region given its proximity both to the border with Syria and to the major road in that direction. In 2007, a clash between LAF and Fatah al-Islam members in the city of Tripoli led to reprisals against LAF positions near Nahr el-Bared camp, where militants had entrenched themselves. Clashes continued for several months, with civilian residents fleeing to the nearby Beddawi Palestinian camp (approximately doubling the population of the already strained one square kilometer camp) or other nearby cities or camps. During the course of the clashes, which eventually succeeded in eliminating Fatah al-Islam from the Nahr el-Bared camp, much of that camp was destroyed.

After his work on the Nahr el-Bared Camp (NBC) project, in 2009, Bilal went to the USAID’s Office of Transition Initiatives (OTI), where he started to engage more deeply with youth and local NGOs in northern Lebanon, Tripoli in particular. Although he now lives in Beirut with his wife and young daughter, Bilal was born and raised in Tripoli, and his work there gave him the opportunity to know the city in a different way and become involved in areas that were conflict-prone and/or impoverished. Around this time, Bilal began working with JP and supporting the establishment of the entity later known as Peace Labs, about which Bilal says he is “always proud to say that [he] was one of the first believers in the work that Jean-Paul was doing, and also in the potential that an NGO like Peace Labs can actually have, not only in Lebanon, but in the MENA [Middle East and North Africa] region in general.” With their combined experiences post-2007, and then with the outbreak of the violent conflict in Tripoli between 2008 and 2014, they later decided to join forces on what they called the Roadmap to Reconciliation in Tripoli (RRT).

The RRT started as an initiative building on the work of many activists in the city (particularly during the period of the clashes) who were trying to stop the fighting. In 2012, on the invitation of the Forum for Cities in Transition (FCT), Bilal organized and coordinated a delegation of local activists and civil servants working in Tripoli to attend the FCT conference in Kirkuk, Iraq. Out of this conference came the idea of working together and establishing a more formal linkage. This led to the creation of the Coalition of Campaigns Against Violence in Tripoli, which was active during the period of the clashes, 2013 – 14, and, subsequently, to the creation of the RRT, which involved Peace Labs, Permanent Peace Movement, Fighters for Peace, Youth for Growth and Development, SHIFT, and LRC.

According to JP, one of Bilal’s greatest assets is his ability to connect people and facilitate their interacting. It’s for this reason that JP has coined the title of ‘Peace Broker’ for him. By reaching through his network to link potential collaborators, he helps create a relationship of compatible parties that can start off with a certain degree of trust in the other given that they have received the Bilal ‘stamp of approval.’

Bilal acknowledges that this is a large part of what he does, even if he wouldn’t necessarily have seen it that way before some reflection with JP and others. Because of the trust he’s been able to build in the communities as a result of honestly and tirelessly working without regard to personal interests or sectarian bias, he’s gained a level of credibility which allows him to play that role.

In this sense, the fact that Bilal comes from Tripoli also plays a role. Although those who don’t know him may have reservations about the potential for bias on the part of a local (and for this reason, non-locals such as JP at PL, Asaad Chaftari from Fighters for Peace, Fadi Abi Allam with Permanent Peace Movement, and others, were brought in for the research phase of the RRT), when it comes to the point of mobilization, the people need to work with someone they trust and who they believe is closer to understanding their problems than NGO workers from Beirut.

JP notes that Bilal played a significant role during the RRT as a connector, coordinating both between the different components of the work and among the people; that he was able to translate the different needs, interests, and mindsets of the people involved from varying backgrounds and countries. Particularly, the trust that he has been able to build with each individual helped bring people together, even those who had not, or maybe even would not have, worked together otherwise.

According to Bilal, the most rewarding part of his work is seeing people regain confidence and change the way they express anger, more specifically, watching the transformation in mentality (possible in only a short time) from initial reluctance and despair over the helplessness of their situation to empowered and coming up with their own ideas for possible solutions to their problems. His satisfaction is derived, in other words, from changing people from victims into initiators and action-takers who assume responsibility.

In his work, Bilal doesn’t see getting people together to be a challenge; rather, the greatest obstacles are the time and the resources necessary to be able to dedicate to establishing groups, committees, advocacy campaigns, and the like. He says:

“I don’t see politicians in the city as a challenge; I don’t see security in the city as a challenge. In fact, all these are targets. If anything, they should see us as a challenge, not the other way around. What we’re trying to do is to change mindsets, to change behaviors, to change relationships, status quo now between people, but all this needs time to facilitate. The more time we have and are able to dedicate, the better impact and results we can get.”

This doesn’t detract from the difficulty of the work, however. Many people in the area, regardless of age, feel a great deal of apathy and anger. Even children already have no trust in institutions, are dropping out of school, and don’t see any way that they can change their lives for the better. For any group, “the tools are different, but the approach is the same. It’s the shift in the mindset between being helpless and not being able to do anything, and getting a grip of your life and doing what you need to be doing in order to change it.” The challenge for this transformation/shift comes from how traumatized, or how deeply entrenched in the conflict and/or issues a person has become, although it’s not impossible, and Bilal meets examples of that on a daily basis.

Often, particularly in areas where there has been violent conflict, a common approach is to try to incentivize peacemaking through various kinds of incentives. Some will implement socio-economic projects, but with an ultimate goal of peacemaking and social cohesion, buried within socially-, culturally-, or economically-focused programming.

Bilal, on the other hand, argues that “the more direct you are, in some cases, the more trust people have in you.” He says that the people know funding will not come just to support them, and he therefore declares his peacebuilding, social cohesion, and/or reconciliation agenda outright, while at the same time recognizing that this may not be the first priority of the people given their primary needs for food, shelter, jobs, etc. He tells them that he will help them meet their other needs if they do it in a way that feeds into peace and development, and in his experience, he has found this method to be very effective.

What he sees lacking in Tripoli is long-term planning. According to Bilal, a lot of the people working in Tripoli work on the level of carrying out activities, implementing short-term projects. Longer projects, however, come with their own set of challenges. People tend to be skeptical about support and start to question the continued availability of resources. At the same time, according to Bilal, to get conflicting communities to come together and find a common cause to work on, “you don’t need money. You just need credibility with both sides.” Nevertheless, social change is not unidirectional, it must be bottom-up, as well as top-down. However, Bilal also notes that grassroots mobilization can be as hard as policy mobilization because of the lack of trust, especially towards policy-makers. In addition, therefore, he says, “you need ministries to step in and do their work” and take responsibility.

In the future, Bilal would like to continue working in Tripoli, including longer-term interventions, building the foundations for reconciliation. He maintains strong ties to Peace Labs, calling them “very close partners” in the RRT and the work that they’re doing in terms of understanding the real root causes of conflict in the city and trying to think of sustainable ways to get out of it.

From the perspective of Peace Labs, JP would like to continue working with Bilal because Peace Labs can benefit a lot by having an interlocutor, savvy both in the technical as well as the program/project management related aspects of the work. Peace Labs also benefits from the network and knowledge that he brings on board.

Bilal now works in freelance consulting, which means that as he does research, he often meets people, conducts interviews, etc., and when he meets someone who’s interested in doing some sort of intervention or work, he thinks about how to connect that person to a person or organization in the city to do something. In his own words, “going forward, I’m trying to build more on this role [of peace broker], in terms of connecting people who can actually come together for a meeting, and then good things happen.”

According to JP, Bilal is someone who’s “very active, friendly, and smart at the same time.” He’s very generous (something I’ve experienced as well) with his time and attention, and he’s fun to work with. He further contributes in his capacity for critical thinking and in his communication skills, being able to translate from the academic to the grassroots level, as well as being a good presenter, able to speak the language of donors and INGOS. JP also notes that working with Bilal has made him realize and appreciate the importance and need for people with the capacity and skills to network and connect people, what he calls ‘peace brokering.’ Bilal is also able to inspire others around him and lead with a ‘soft style,’ but being so well informed, people easily agree with him because he makes fair and solid arguments in favor of his ideas.

With his multiple talents, extensive personal and professional network, as well as his dedication to peace and development, Bilal’s professional journey is sure to take off. Whether he decides to go into politics, work for a larger organization, start his own consultancy, or continue as an independent consultant, he will surely continue to bring an important contribution to spreading the message of peaceful conflict transformation, and inspire others at the grassroots, academic, and policy level.

For More about Bilal, or to connect with him directly, visit his LinkedIn profile:

https://www.linkedin.com/in/bilal-al-ayoubi-07287964

Landslide

9:22 am 107 Comments

Vicky on the bus en route to Bardiya

After a couple weeks of planning and adjusting to life in Kathmandu, it was time for the trip that Vicky and I had been most looking forward to: traveling to Bardiya. During Nepal’s civil war (1996-2006), the district of Bardiya had the highest concentration of enforced disappearances in all of Nepal, though families throughout the country were affected by these crimes.

Nepal is currently undergoing a phase of transitional justice (TJ), a period of reconstruction and reconciling as the country rebuilds following the war. In the academic world, technical jargon is often used to describe transitional justice, but at its base, TJ is about addressing the needs of people whose lives were disrupted by war, who are too often forgotten in the transitional phase.

In Nepal, primarily men were disappeared,* and many women lost their husbands, brothers, and fathers – their family’s breadwinners – and have endured great economic difficulty alongside their grief. The families affected by the civil war are at the heart of the work we do for the Advocacy Project and we were eager to meet them. We knew that the women’s group we have been hearing about since we signed up for our fellowships live in Bardiya.

Now we just had to get to them.

Route from Kathmandu to Bardiya

Only two highways pass through Kathmandu, limiting our route options. Our bus would traverse the Naravaangadh-Muglin road, traveling halfway across the country. The journey is expected to take about 17 hours on a good day. We had been warned by friends to expect buses without shock absorbers, extreme potholes and hairpin turns at high altitudes. The route to Bardiya runs South and West and is expected to take about 17 hours on a good day. Luckily, Prabal, our friend and trusty NEFAD partner would be along for the ride. Prabal is a student at Kathmandu University studying Development. One of the great joys of being in Nepal has been working closely with him. He is dedicated to serving other people, eager to learn, and a wonderful colleague. You will be hearing more about him in posts to come.

Prabal, Vicky and I loaded up our backpacks, hauling an additional duffle bag filled with 30 embroidery hoops, to bring to the ladies in the embroidery group, and settled into the bus. Let’s just say our friends’ prophesies about the jarring ride, honking buses, and abrupt twists and turns along cliff edges lived up to their descriptions. Seat belts were generally not functional on the bus, so we bounced our way through the first part of the trip, trying not to look down too frequently out the window.

About four hours into the ride, the bus halted abruptly. As we waited, thinking this would be a temporary pause, Vicky received the message you don’t want to see when you are embarking on a 17 hour journey. Scrawled across her phone screen was a headline from one of Kathmandu’s largest newspapers, the Himalayan Times: “Massive landslide blocks Narayaangadh-Muglin road section again.”

The headline from Vicky’s Phone

The “again” tacked on to the end of that headline hints at the realities of life in Nepal during monsoon season. Even for Nepal, where some landslides are to be expected due to rainy conditions and steep mountainsides along the roads and highways, this landslide was significant enough to make front page news.

The full article from the Himalayan Times

After clicking the headline, we realized that there were now 8,000 cubic meters of rubble between us and Bardiya.Not having access to reliable internet, or being able to reach my notebook, I started to record our thoughts as the events unfolded. You can listen to our real time impressions and the background bustle of the bus below:

At this point, the bus cut the engine, the fans, and the air conditioning. We sat, sweltered, and waited. I was most impressed to see mothers and small children waiting out the heat and playing calmly. In the United States, I don’t know if I’ve ever witnessed that kind of patience from kids traveling. After a period, Prabal leaned forward and asked us, “have you ever spent the night on a bus before?” Vicky returned his question with another,

“Are you trying to prepare us?”

To be continued…

*A note on terminology: The action “to be/was/were disappeared” is used in human rights circles to underline the fact that enforced disappearances were not an abstract event, but rather a crime committed by perpetrators.

Click here to donate to our project for the Bardiya Conflict Victims Cooperative.

Voices of the Opposition: Fighting for Change & Hoping for Peace in Kenya

4:36 am 119 Comments

“If NASA does not win the election, you will find me fighting in the streets.”

It was a little after 3 p.m. when the music flooded through the office window. The pounding bass and a DJ’s voice rose from below as the streets flooded with a parade of cars and flatbed trucks carrying heavy sound systems. It’s election season in Kenya, and the typical campaign technique is a cross between a traveling circus and a nightclub. Caravans of adoring supporters, many of whom are paid daily to smile and wave zealously, travel around towns blasting music and showing off flashy campaign trucks.

Campaign strategy in Kenya seems to correlate louder and more vivacious caravans with more votes collected on August 8th. Absurd amounts of money are poured into buying campaigners’ loyalty, printing signs and t-shirts, and gathering a train of fancy cars to weave around Nairobi day after day. I’ve grown accustomed to being passed by 18-wheelers full of girls twerking to pop music in the name of their candidate.

When a flock of campaigners for NASA—the opposition party of Raila Odinga who is vying for the Kenyan presidency—paraded past our office on Ngong Road and began swarming our block with people, my curiosity got the best of me. I was magnetically pulled to the energy of the rally and ran to the street to observe the commotion. I wove through about 300 people to watch the Governor of Nairobi address the crowd from the sunroof of a black Range Rover. The caravan consisted of several other candidates for legislative positions who also greeted the lively crowd with pageant waves from sunroofs.

A spokesman addresses the crowd. Unfortunately, this is the only shot I took as I was hesitant to pull out my camera.

A spokesman on top of a car addresses the crowd. Unfortunately, this is the only shot I took as I was hesitant to pull out my camera.

To understand the party’s political ambitions and gage mounting tension between parties, I spoke with several NASA supporters, most memorably Ben. Ben had a chipped front tooth and broad shoulders framing the round bow of his muscular chest. He was eloquent and told me that though he had a degree in engineering, he hadn’t had a stable job in months. Ben gave a fiery soliloquy about corruption and weak governance in his country, which he felt had betrayed its people by ignoring their need for basic services. “Look at this muck!” he bellowed at the trench of sewage and trash covered in flies that surrounded us. When I asked him if there would be violence after the election, he retorted “I will either live to see change or die fighting for it.”

He pointed to the apartment building above us, about 100 meters from where I work, and said, “This is where I live. I have four daughters and I have already sent them with my wife to our village in the west.” I asked him if he’d be joining them in the coming weeks, and he adamantly shook his head and pointed to the ground, as if he couldn’t be uprooted. “I will stay and fight for them. If I die for change, they will see a better life.” This is not the first time I’ve heard such a dramatic statement indicating that daily struggles for survival fuel opposition to the ruling party. A close friend of mine who supports NASA echoed this sentiment, explaining to me, “Even if you don’t fight after the election, you will die. People are already hungry and dying in the streets.”

Does Ben mean these words or is this just pre-election posturing? Did he manipulate rhetoric to meet or change my perspective because I am a Westerner? I cannot determine these answers; I can only report what I hear and record it in the bank of electoral testimonies that I’ve gathered. “Where is the western media? Where is CNN? Who is on the ground listening to the people?” Ben asked me, for I stood out as the only muzungu observing the rally in the sea of Kenyans. “No one is here asking us about the changes we need. No one is walking these streets and listening to our political grievances,” Ben objected.

“No one will come until there is violence to report. World news won’t speak of our demands for democracy, it will only show us as bloody killers in the street. We will just be seen again as silly Africans fighting,” he continued. Unfortunately, the narrative of the disempowered African responding to inadequate governance with violence is one that the Western media is familiar with and all too comfortable perpetuating.

However, political violence is not a static, singular incident. It is a heightened point of communication along a relatively young democracy’s arc of political history that has not favored its citizenry. Kenyans have been actively engaging in politics and striving to hold their politicians accountable with little success. “The people know what they want and they have the power to make change themselves. Kenya has so much potential, but it is being wasted,” Ben mourned.

We parted with a series of handshakes and wishes to run into each other again soon on our shared block. His handshake, though firm with conviction, was a nurturing embrace telling of his fatherhood and seemingly honed from years of cradling daughters. Clasped in mine were his passionate hands with the capacity to check a ballot in hope or throw rocks in hopelessness. What would come of them after the election? My hope for Ben is that his calloused palms continue to toughen with old age and that thick political callouses will not drive him to kill or be killed in post-election fury. Kenyans want change and they have been galvanized by this election cycle to believe it’s achievable; it would be a waste of potential and democratic promise to turn on the news and see any of them bleeding in the streets.

Nadia

July 14, 2017 10:54 am 117 Comments

When asked to directly address Americans, Nadia said, “My biggest dream in this world is to go to America, to settle down there with my husband and our kids. It is my deepest wish. I beg you.”

Nadia is from Iraq, where it seems like war has been raging on endlessly. Despite it being better before Daesh, Nadia said, “the state of Iraq is not good and it wasn’t good before either.” Nadia recounted her fears escalating when her and her husband began noticing their neighbors disappearing or leaving without a word. She fled to Amman, Jordan with her family because of the lack of security and safety in her home country.

Nadia’s husband is CRP’s beloved handyman. He helps around the office when anything is broken, but he also provides much-needed laughs by teasing the staff and interns. While her husband works and her youngest daughter participates in the Kids’ Summer Camp, Nadia comes to the Hope Workshop. Talking about the program, she immediately begins smiling. She loves it here, saying that she hopes God grants the staff and volunteers “health and vigor,” an Arabic idiom used to express great appreciation. CRP and the women of the Hope Workshop have made her feel safe and welcome.

Despite hardships, Nadia refuses to have her dreams stifled. She longs for her family to be resettled, “My children didn’t have a future in Iraq and they don’t have a future here. I want us to get out. I will ensure they have a future.”

We’re Halfway There

5:27 am 213 Comments

Today I am halfway (whoooooooah) through my fellowship here at AEPD in Dong Hoi, Vietnam. In the last five weeks, I’ve gotten to meet several of AP and AEPD’s beneficiary families—it’s been a privilege getting to know them, and learning more about the important work AEPD does on their behalf. The main thing I’ve actually accomplished so far, besides all the blog posts and photos that I’ve posted on this site, is to start raising funds for Duong Thi An’s new buffalo. I expected that I’d maybe be able to raise around $500 or so and leave AEPD to finish the campaign, but as of this writing we’d gotten over $1000 in contributions in less than a week, getting us tantalizingly close to our $1500 target. I’ve had everyone from family members and close friends to distant acquaintances to complete strangers offer their support, which has been both surprising and incredibly inspiring. (Incidentally, if you’d like to join them, you can find more information about the campaign and make a donation here.)

My time here hasn’t been all about work, though—I’ve thoroughly explored Dong Hoi and the surrounding area as well as the larger cities of Hanoi and Hue. In a desperate attempt to keep generating precious, precious content fun departure from my last several posts, here are some tidbits from my time here that aren’t work-related.

–People are really friendly and seem to be big fans of the US, despite all the history between us. I still get a lot of shouts of “hello” when I walk down the street—in Hanoi and Hue that’s usually a prelude to selling you something but in Dong Hoi it’s simple curiosity. Most people I have enough words in common to talk with are approachable and curious about me and what I’m doing in Dong Hoi; I haven’t been very active in what nightlife there is in town, since being in a foreign country hasn’t magically made me more outgoing, but I’d imagine I’d be the center of attention there too. People have nothing but positive things to say about America and its culture. The war rarely comes up unless I bring it up, and most of the remnants of the war I’ve seen have been museums and monuments aimed as much at foreigners as Vietnamese. People seem to be focused on the future, not the past, and historical sites seem like less of a priority, which makes sense considering how long Vietnam was engulfed in war. Also, it’s possible people are more introspective when they lose a war—think about all the American music and pop culture inspired by our experience in Vietnam. I don’t think Vietnamese commemorate the war in the same way.

–I’ve been struck by the fact that nobody I’ve talked to has brought up US politics, last year’s election, or the Trump presidency, despite all that’s happened since I left. (I traveled a bit in Africa last summer and most people I talked with at any length brought up the election.) That could be simple politeness, or just a result of the fact that US news is obviously less important here. (None of the Vietnamese TV news I’ve seen seems to talk much about news outside Asia—English media here is mostly run by the government and dominated by such compelling stories as “National Assembly Standing Committee Concludes 12^th Session.”) That hasn’t stopped me from following events in the US, but it’s made them seem a bit less real and more distant.

–Saigon beer is the best I’ve tried here so far, Hanoi is probably my least favorite but still OK. I haven’t braved the local homebrew yet, but I’m sure I will at some point. My favorite restaurant in town serves a dish that I don’t actually remember the name of; it’s pieces of grilled pork with rice paper, chili sauce, and vegetables, and you make your own delicious wraps. I split my meals between local places and Western restaurants, of which there are a surprising number for a small city (including not one but two places that specialize in pizza). But I’ve been learning about more restaurants that locals frequent, which tend to be cheaper and better.

–When I was in Hue I went to a Mexican restaurant out of curiosity and it was overpriced but actually not terrible.

–I jog here sometimes, but I don’t think local people do that for exercise. I also joined a gym (it’s a steal at $9 a month), but it’s not air-conditioned so I often find myself getting tired out more easily and sweating a lot more. (I’ve gotten a bit more used to the climate here but I’m still not comfortable in it. I’ve stopped looking at weather forecasts because they just depress me.)

–Dong Hoi is a beach town—that’s mostly why people come here. But I’ve heard mixed reports from locals about whether the beaches are actually safe. When I’ve gone swimming I’ve seen plenty of people in there with me, including lots of families, but I think a lot of them are from out of town—last year a company called Formosa Ha Tinh Steel was accused of dumping toxins into the ocean nearby, which forced the fishing industry here to temporarily shut down and devastated the economy. Supposedly the beaches and local seafood are safe now (that’s what my hotel and the government say), but a coworker told me there’s no way to really tell. I’ve gotten itchy skin a couple of times after swimming here, so I think I’ll stay on land for now.

–Dong Hoi doesn’t have the volume of traffic of somewhere like Hanoi, but you still need to watch your step. Lots of narrow streets means that danger can come at you with very little warning. Most Vietnamese people drive motorcycles—cars are for people with money—and there are lots of motorcycle cabs around. They usually give you helmets, but whether those actually provide protection or are just there to look pretty is anyone’s guess. My hotel also has a bicycle I sometimes borrow—when I’ve asked about getting a helmet for the bike the reaction has been confusion, as if I’d asked to wear a helmet while driving a car.

–My beard makes people think I’m older than 26, and seems to interest kids in particular. Almost none of the local men I’ve seen have significant facial hair. (Of course one of the few exceptions is the face on all Vietnamese money.)

I think that’s all I have, but of course I’ve got five more weeks to learn, explore and enjoy. Did I mention the climate and how that still kind of bothers me? I probably did.

Stories of Landslides and Launching a Business

1:55 am 255 Comments

In Nepal, landslides especially during the rainy season, can cause delays and restrict highways as well as unfortunately, cost lives. Last week, I had my first encounter with some of these effects of landslides. We set out to Bardiya for the first time to meet some of the ladies that NEFAD works with, as well as to hone their skills in embroidery towards creating a business. Despite the long journey ahead, I was excited to finally be heading to meet the ladies, learn from them and collaboratively discuss beginning a business in this new fourth industrial revolution.

Some of the ladies admire their embroidery from last year. Bardiya is famous for tigers and the ladies specialize in tiger designs.

We left Kathmandu at around 2pm in the afternoon for what is usually a 17-hour bus ride and expected to arrive the next morning at 7 or 8am, but landslide complications delayed our trip by about 8 hours. This is a story about the effects of landslides but also about the benefits of patience and persistence. At around 7pm, right around sunset, the bus came to a stop on the side of the road and we received news that there was a landslide ahead and we needed to take a detour; an additional 5 hours. I prepared myself mentally and physically for a longer bus ride and hoped to sleep through it. What I was not prepared for however, was the ensuing one and half hours of negotiations and stalling on the side of the road. In order to take the detour, the bus driver and conductor announced that each passenger would need to pay an additional 500 rupees (about $5) to cover the costs we would incur from fuel and air conditioning if we took the detour. Alarmed by what was so clearly an exaggeration of the costs, passengers quickly ‘unionized’ and stated their maximum price of 200 rupees per passenger. We were at an impasse.

After about one hour sitting in the nearly suffocating heat and wondering with Prabal and Kirstin if we would ever move, the bus driver finally drove about a mile to a restaurant where we had dinner. Shortly after, Prabal told us that the driver was willing to accept 300 rupees, which seemed reasonable to all.

I am not sure if it was the Dal Baat, but I was thankful that we were finally able to resolve the situation despite the fact that the trip was extended for about 6 hours, and the near heat stroke I had experienced (slight exaggeration). I was also quietly impressed by the persistence and determination of everyone on the bus. They stood their ground, and it was definitely a lesson learnt for some of my more impatient days. I also acknowledge that there are some in Nepal who experienced the worst of the landslide and I was therefore grateful that we arrived safely in Bardiya the next afternoon.

Our view of the mountains and of Bardiya from our hotel balcony.

Bardiya is in Western Nepal and is one of the districts in Nepal where NEFAD’s network of families of the disappeared is based and works on transitional justice. On our first full day in Bardiya we met with 23 remarkable ladies whose husbands, brothers and fathers were disappeared during the conflict and who in previous years, have created advocacy embroidery to tell their stories and honor the memories of their loved ones. They are now coming together once again, and expanding their skills to create more marketable products and to launch a sustainable business and getting new a plaque for each employerr at this Corporate Plaque Supplier.

Choosing designs for embroidery.

Talik Rani begins her tiger square.

Before heading to Bardiya, we created a budget and business plan outline to share with the ladies and Sarita Thapa, the coordinator of the group. The plan was to discuss the objectives of the business, select officials and design a production and marketing strategy jointly as well as begin making quality embroidery. We began by proposing the idea of a business and savings group and what it would entail including the long-term goals; a source of income and independence and hearing more about their vision for the business. An incredibly important first step was taking a vote to determine who would be interested in being a part of the business. For the best business marketing strategies visit Field of Words blog. I haven’t had direct experience in designing a business from the start-up phase but knew it would be essential to ensure buy-in and commitment from the beginning. We were pleased that the vote was unanimous and that everyone was committed to the business idea. To get business ideas visit to Business blog.

Taking a vote to start a business.

Deciding the feasibility of a savings group was slightly more challenging as the ladies cited various barriers. Firstly, was the distance from one another and transportation costs. Savings groups require regular meetings and therefore a physical as well as a financial commitment. Relatedly, some of the ladies in the group were planning to get married soon and would move further away. A further challenge was duplication; some were already part of more than one savings group and did not feel that they would benefit from joining another one and Sarita therefore agreed that we could form a savings group on a discretionary basis. This experience highlighted the importance of ensuring consultation and transparency with every member at each step of the way, something that the ladies deeply valued moving forward.

Selecting officials

The next step was selecting a leadership committee. Below are some of the ladies that took on leadership roles.

Sharada Tharu, Chairman

Sharada Tharu, newest chairman of the business.

Sharada was selected as chairman of the upcoming business and will be in charge of facilitating meetings, communicating work plans, allocating responsibilities and motivating the group. Many of people checks this kind of business news at Melbourne weekly eastern. The last role in particular is an ideal fit for Sharada as it was clear that the ladies heeded her advice, were fond of her and that when she spoke, she evoked respect. She is a also member of one other savings group and has had experience facilitating meetings with like-minded groups. Sharada’s husband was disappeared during the conflict and she is a strong advocate for supporting one another in all aspects, including financially.

Sarita Thapa, Treasurer

Sarita Thapa, having tea at er mother's shop. She has been the coordinator of the embroidery workshop for the past two years and also works on transitional justice liason between with families in Bardiya district and NEFAD.

Sarita Thapa, having tea at her mother’s shop. She has been the coordinator of the embroidery workshop for the past two years and also works as an unofficial liason between families in Bardiya district, NEFAD and Truth Commissions.

Sarita, also known as superwoman to some, was selected as treasurer. For the past two years, Sarita has coordinated the advocacy and tiger embroidery program by mobilizing the ladies, ensuring materials have been purchased and distributed as well as facilitating training. It was therefore fitting that she will be treasurer and in charge of purchasing and distributing materials. In addition to handling all the logistics for the embroidery workshops, Sarita and her mother, or Ama as we called her made us feel welcome in Bardiya. She invited us to her home for dinner during our stay and at the end of each day, we had tea and donuts at Ama’s shop. Sarita’s father, Ama’s husband was arrested and disappeared during the conflict and since then, Sarita has been an activist for families of the disappeared through NEFAD and the Conflict Victims Committee (CVC) based in Bardiya. At the end of the day when all officials had been selected, she shared her sentiments of hope with the ladies in a speech, remarking that this was one of many times, they had tried to launch a business and that she was hopeful that this time around could be different; “I never thought we would be here today.”

Sarita’s mum, making some tea

Sima Tharu, Secretary

Sima Tharu, gives a speech as the newest secretary.

Sima Tharu is currently studying towards her Bachelor’s degree in Management and Statistics and having had experience facilitating other savings groups, she was selected as secretary. It was impressive to watch her immediately take on her role, taking meeting notes and making records in the ledger book. She will be in charge of all record keeping as well as ensuring transparency of the budget and other records, and is perfectly suited for the job.

Sormila Tharu, laughter and untangling thread. She will play a role in assisting Sarita with distribution of materials.

Sormila Tharu, laughter and untangling thread. She will play a role assisting Sarita with distribution of materials.

The leadership committee are only a few of the kind and resilient ladies I met last week. The first time I heard the term ‘the economy of remembering’ was in a book by Philip Gouvernich about Rwanda and I found the term intriguing as it could mean various things. When I met the ladies in Bardiya, I thought about this phrase again. My interpretation in this context was that the ladies, brought together by their loss, and shared memories, were ready to unite towards building a business together. I was incredibly touched and inspired by their bravery and their strength to determine their future.

The ladies chose the name Conflict Victims Cooperative Group, choosing to incorporate their identity as victims as a reminder of the loss that brought them together but also including Cooperative to highlight a foundation of cooperation, and the future they hope to secure as mutually supportive entrepreneurs. There remains a lot more work to be done to ensure the business can be successful. It will require a similar vein of patience and persistence that I saw in the bus, but laying the groundwork in Bardiya last week was an encouraging first step. Moving forward, the challenge will be to focus on production and establishing a market but also on keeping the motivation and spirits high.