IMPOSSIBLE DECISIONS

His eyes filled with tears as he spoke passionately about the impact of reducing Aid budgets. He spoke of the effects of the worst drought in 30 years; of one community rationing themselves to 1 litre of water a day (which the women and girls collect in 25l jerry-cans from between 500m and 3km away); of another where 99% of children under 5 are malnourished, about 60% chronically; of another where conflict has surfaced because one has a shallow well, and the other an open source.

Let’s face it, no matter how you do the maths, no matter what data you use, no matter what the method of analysis used to make the decisions and choose priorities, the outcomes and the life choices are “sub-optimal” – or just plain lousy!

How do you tell the mother of a vulnerable, hungry child that you can’t help support her with nutrition supplements anymore because Australia’s funding has been reduced and from now on we are only able to support the most vulnerable, the chronically malnourished? How do you tell one community that you cannot support them with water source rehabilitation because at least they have some water, (even if it is shared with their livestock) and with the money available we have to narrow our focus to the neighbours who have less water and more people? How do you decide to close out of education programming in favour of water and food – because they are lifesaving as opposed to life-skills?

How do you tell the people with whom you have been working, and to whom you have made commitments that as a result of funding reductions you can no longer deliver on those commitments because the donor has reduced the funding - instead you will narrow the focus of your programming? How do you break promises, without breaking relationships and hope?

“We build relationships with the people, we make promises, we deliver and they trust us! Now, I have to break my promises. I don’t care so much about what the government thinks, I care about the children and I feel like I will let them down.”

From the distance of my comfortable office in Australia I can tell these passionate and committed community development workers that they should never make promises (Community Development theory 101). But, let’s be realistic – development practitioners make a promise of commitment and relationship when we walk into a community. We pride ourselves (as we should) on a development model that demands we build relationships of trust with our community partners, we work hard to ensure that they own the process, that their voices are heard and that they make the decisions of priority – we make a promise to be an along-sider.

Let me be clear, my colleague is a smart man, he appreciates the political and economic landscape in which we are operating, and he recognises the complexity of our decisions. He gets the theory, he knows that governments make political decisions, he understands the fiscal realities. But, in the end, it’s he and his team that have to make the tough decisions about who and what they will focus on, and communicate those decisions to the people with whom they work – a people who (for the most part) do not care about the politics and financial positions or forecasts.

“Right now, our government is investing the least we ever have in Australian Aid” ww.australianaid.org/ #AustralianAid

El Nino, Rain & Hope

Negash Water Tank

We climbed the steep road out of Mekelle, (the Capital of Tigray, the most Northern region of Ethiopia) passing camel trains, horse drawn carts and donkeys carrying heavy loads. The mountains are steep and harsh here, the ground is rocky and barren – although areas of green ground cover breakup the barren landscape.

Farmers follow behind their oxen, ploughing the land they rent from the government, and stop regularly to dislodge the rocks caught in the wooden plough. It is hard to believe that this land, as much rock as dirt, is fertile enough to grow anything, and yet – if there is rain – the crops will grow. And therein lies the problem for this, and many other regions of Ethiopia and the African continent.

For two years now there has been no rain, no crops and plenty of misery. El Nino, while as a scientific-seasonal event, is technically over, the impact of the lack of rain carries on. There was no harvest in the 2015-16 year, and whilst it is now the rainy season, and farmers are ploughing in hope - there has not been much rain here yet.

As I walked amongst the rock and mud houses of the town of Negash and talked with female headed householders who have been supported to establish small dairy herds, the sky is ominously grey and heavy, the thunder echoes across the valley and bounces off the mountains, but the rain does not come.

Negash is a community literally built on and of rock. It is one of the harshest environments I have visited, and yet amongst this inhospitable environment the children laugh, play and wave. One of the most urgent needs here is safe, drinkable water. There is a bore hole and a 10,000 litre tank, but nowhere near enough.

World Vision, with UNOCHA support, has built a 50,000 litre concrete tank and rehabilitated the pipes, pump and bore – and for AU $26,000.000 – soon there will be safe, drinkable water to communal water points – enough for 1,100 households and two schools (of about 1,700 students) in the community. The community leaders have formed a water committee, (7-8 people, including 50% women) and have decided to institute a water levy; all households will pay 10.00 Birr (about 60 cents) a month for the maintenance and operation of the water supply.

Negash is by no means alone in this crisis: in all of Ethiopia, 10.2 million people require emergency food assistance to meet their basic food needs, and some 458,000 children are projected to suffer from severe acute malnutrition (SAM) and 2.5 million children from moderate acute malnutrition (MAM) during the year. (UNOCHA)

Ethiopia and many other countries need help.

FRAGILE HOPE

“Mr. Daryl Crowden, please make yourself known to the Emirates service desk at departure gate 11”. I was just about to board Emirates flight EK407, that 13.5 hour non-stop flight from Melbourne to Dubai. And this, this was the announcement that births a glimmer of hope deep in the soul – albeit unfounded and highly unlikely – but nevertheless a pleading hope that this was the day, this was the flight. I approached the desk telling myself, don’t get your hopes up, it never happens, but still a small candle of hope had been lit.

“Mr. Crowden? We forgot to give you a meal voucher when you checked in!” Not only was it not the hoped for upgrade, but it was just rubbing salt in the wounds – not only do you not get an upgrade, but by the way you have such a long layover in Dubai that we will give you a free meal at McDonalds (just one of the choices).

The insignificance and obscenity of my hope ashamed me as I sat listening to my colleagues in Nairobi. They were providing me with an update on the unfolding crisis in South Sudan where over 200 people have been killed; the drought affecting 10.2 Million people in Ethiopia; the increasing capacity of Al Shabaab to terrorise Somalia and neighbours; the increasing displacement of people from Burundi. And armed with that knowledge what was my response?

The idea of hope haunted my thinking. As I sat listening to one catastrophe, created by humanity, after another, I wondered where, if, there is hope in these contexts? Do the people of Juba (South Sudan) hope anymore, or have they given in to despair? Can the people in Ethiopia hope for food, can they imagine a day when the kids are not hungry?

Hope is fragile, it can be dashed in a second by powers outside our control - and yet it is the one thing that, where it can be found, has the power to sustain life and overcome reality. I have seen this illogical hope in so many faces and places.

As I begin my work this week in Kenya, and next week in Ethiopia – I can imagine what I will see and hear – but I hope that I will see a flicker of the candle of hope burning in the eyes of the people, and I pray that in some small way I can tend that flame of hope.

'I am relieved. My baby is alive and well.'

(Written by Melany Markham (Wednesday, 08 June 2016 08:07) By Guy Vital-Herne)

“I was so desperate. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to feed her some milk we bought for her, but she kept on crying, and crying, all the time. I couldn’t sleep. I was so weak from being sleepless for so long. My mind was racing in so many different directions. I didn’t know what to think and what not to think. I thought she wasn’t going to make it.” This is the testimony of Ellen, a 52-year-old grandmother, as she recollects the painful moments she experienced with 9-months-old Bethniflore.

Ellen lives in the community of Colladère, where World Vision has been working with children and their families to alleviate the effects of poverty. But for the past two years, the people of Haiti have been facing a drought like never before. Many areas of the country, including those of World Vision’s Area Programs, have not received rain for four to six months. This drought, the second in two years, has had a severe impact on people’s food security, nutrition and livelihoods. Crops have been lost, work has stopped and children have become even more vulnerable.

According to a national food security assessment released by the Haitian National Agency for Food Security (CNSA) and World Food Program (WFP) approximately 1.5 million people (300,000 households) are severely food insecure. Most troubling in this report is that 76,000 children are acute malnourished and 37,500 children are severely malnourished. 

Following this daunting situation, World Vision Haiti issued a declaration of emergency and launched a response providing needed help to families and their children that have lost so much due to this climate phenomenon.

Several mobile clinics have been organized in order to identify and support malnourished children. When Ellen came with Bethniflore, nurse Jeanine, measured the circumference of Bethniflore’s arm – a common way to identify malnutrition - and weighed her. The little girl was diagnosed with the worst form of it. “I only saw that she was losing weight, her skin was dry and scaly and she was crying all the time. I didn’t know what was wrong with her,” explains Ellen, clearly upset.

Bethniflore was immediately placed in a outpatient therapy program and administered Plumpy’nut, a peanut-based nutritional supplement designed to quickly counteract the effects of malnutrition. “The nurse gave me the Plumpy’nut and instructed me on how to use it. She also taught me how to properly feed Bethniflore using the various food groups that a child needs to eat to grow healthy.” Nurse Jeanine works with the women in this community and shares different recipes through the weekly feeding session that the mothers organize. Each person brings something to prepare the food and the children are fed together while she instructs the mothers on healthy habits for their children and family. “Now I know how to feed and care for my child,” she adds.

As part of the overall response to the food security crisis, World Vision Haiti distributed seeds peanuts, corn, yucca, sweet potatoes, green beans to more than 4,000 farmers; restocked public health centers with additional supplies of Plumpy’Nut and continues to promote its school-feeding program for more than 64,000 children throughout the Central Plateau. Ellen also received seeds of peanuts and green beans that her husband has planted, hoping that this year they will be able to make some money out of their hard work.

“Today, I am relieved. My baby is alive and well. She’s happy and active. It’s all thanks to World Vision,” shares thankfully Ellen