Moments of Change for 2012?

by Hamish Wilson/

As we head into 2012, Wasafiri is asking where tipping points might lie for tackling poverty and related crises.

The future is uncertain. Of that much we’re sure. We live on a small planet with 7 billion people competing for rapidly diminishing resources, clamouring for greater political participation and a higher standard of living. New technology is stirring revolution and geopolitical power is shifting dramatically – all amidst a changing climate and an unprecedented economic crisis.

Such an outlook suggests that crises from conflict to climate change will be unpredictable in where and how they strike, but that we can expect the world’s poor to bear the greatest burden.

Yet amidst this volatility, we believe that new opportunities for tackling such problems will emerge in 2012. And it is often out of the most chaotic and dynamic moments that energy for thinking and acting in new ways begins to emerge. Wasafiri operates at the heart of such moments, working with the people and organisations tackling poverty and related crises. From our privileged vantage point therefore, we take the plunge to consider where opportunities for change may emerge in the year ahead:

Myanmar – capitalising on recent developments to strengthen democratic reform and respect for human rights
Horn of Africa – defining a long-term approach to improving resilience and development in the aftermath of 2011’s worst humanitarian crisis
South Sudan – tackling tribal and political conflict and strengthening government reform in the world’s newest country to lay the foundation for long-term state building
Somalia – tackling the blight of piracy, fundamentalism and poor governance in the world’s most dysfunctional state
Climate change – prototyping new approaches to reducing vulnerability and mitigating the impact of climate change at a country level
African agriculture – accelerating development by growing private sector investment in support of national plans and priorities
Libya – establishing leadership and government capacity for rebuilding the nation
Rwanda – supporting Rwanda’s hunger for development and regional status by strengthening the institutions of government
Afghanistan – supporting the transition from foreign military occupation to Afghan owned social and economic development
Humanitarian leadership – tackling pervasive weaknesses in leadership and coordination, on the back of a resurgence of high-level support for improving the humanitarian system

We also think it worthwhile keeping a keen eye on;

Arab Spring in Africa? – the upheavals of the Middle East and North Africa may well spawn similar discontent further south, where dictators in countries such as Equatorial Guinea, Uganda, Zimbabwe and Angola cling to power as protest movements become more determined
Yemen – a disastrous convergence of poverty, extremism, ethnicity and corrupt government is forcing a growing political will for change
Non-traditional actors – developing nations and the West will grapple with how best to work with the likes of China, India and Brazil to strengthen aid and trade while avoiding the pitfalls
Humanitarian crises – predictably, from hurricanes in the Pacific to famine in the Sahel (especially Niger), new humanitarian crises will curse the developing world, but at ever-increasing cost
Ownership of development – opportunities will lie in building the capacity of national governments to reclaim their own development agenda, shifting power away from the donors
Impact investment – the private sector will increasingly be challenged – and encouraged – to structure and catalyse investments to drive development
Youth engagement – harnessing the energy of young people will also loom larger on the agenda of poor countries plagued by unemployment and increasing numbers of dissatisfied youth

Above all, and turbulent as the world may prove to be in 2012, we predict all manner of new paths to generating concerted action to tackle poverty and related crises.

Bon courage to all fellow travellers!

South Sudan Blog 7: The Story of South Sudan

by Hamish Wilson/

I spotted David Mayom in the third row of the conference hall. Even from a distance he radiated energy. He was tall and rangy, as are so many from the Dinka tribe, and he wore a languid, easy smile. Later, he was introduced as Commissioner for Awerial County from the state’s southern reaches. The presentation he gave of the challenges facing his people was compelling; his words spoken with a rare conviction and humility.

By chance, we met over coffee, and he shared his story in a soft voice. ‘In 1987, Colonel Garang ordered our people to send their children to school in Ethiopia.’ At the time, Garang was head of the Sudan People’s Liberation Army, and involved in peace negotiations with the ruling coalition in Khartoum just as clashes with the north were intensifying.

‘We could not refuse, and as a Chief my father wanted to set an example by sending his eldest son. My brother refused and ran away and I haven’t seen him since. I told the army that I would go instead, so that my father would not be punished. I was fifteen years old.’

David’s homeland is nearly a thousand kilometres from Ethiopia, separated by dense bush, vast swamps, and at the time, extremely violent militia groups. I asked him how he travelled.

‘We walked.’ he said simply. ‘There were thousands of us, some as young as 8 or 9. Many got sick, some died. We slept in the bush and ate whatever the villagers would give us. Most of the time though they had nothing, so we lived on handfuls of dried sorghum.’ The hardship he and so many others had endured was difficult to comprehene.

In 1989, Colonel Omar Bashir staged a coup in Khartoum, imposing military rule over Sudan. The informal cease-fire with Garang’s army was broken soon after with brutal attacks on southern strongholds.

A year later, David was sent from Ethiopia to the front line. It was clear that he was too young at the time to fully grasp the horrors he was about to face, nor comprehend the political tumult into which he was being swept. In 1991 the southern army splintered into warring factions, with groups forming and then betraying alliances in a chaotic spiral of violence that tore the region apart.

For the next five years, throughout the height of the war, he lived as a bush fighter in Garang’s army, fighting for, as he told me, ‘the hope of freedom from the north’. His reality however was a maelstrom of civilian massacres, cattle raiding, and village burning that killed hundreds of thousands and displaced millions.

His war, and nearly his life, was ended by a savage artillery burst that left him badly injured. ‘I was saved by an NGO from Lokichokio (a kenyan border town, serving as base for humanitarian operations at the time), then sent to Uganda.’ There he was taken in by a refugee camp run by the United Nations.

His injury was in all likelihood his salvation, for at the time the war continued to worsen as neighbouring Ethiopia, Eritrea and Uganda became involved, sending weapons and troops to bolster the south.

David lived in the camp for five years, and slowly his wounds healed. In the meantime, and with the North suffering increasing losses, a succession of peace deals were brokered, first in 1997 with the rebel groups and then the 2000 Libyan-Egyptian Joint Initiative paved the way for further agreements in 2003 and 2004. From these emerged the 2005 Comprehensive Peace Agreement, which charted the course to independance just three months ago.

In 2002 David returned to Awerial, 15 years after he had left as a young boy. ‘It was so dangerous for us to travel at that time, but I had to go back home. My parents didn’t know if I was alive or dead’. After 8 years volunteering with an international charity, the state governor appointed him commissioner of his county. An extraordinary journey.

‘It has been a terrible struggle.’ He said, and then he looked at me. ‘But you have to understand that my story is not so unusual. So many of us lived like this, for so many years. My story is the story of South Sudan.’

South Sudan Blog 6: Disarmament, the challenge for a generation

by Hamish Wilson/

“Security and development are two sides of the same coin.” Major General Daniel Deng, the tall, distinguished head of the Bureau for Small Arms Control told the gathered audience in his slow, forceful drawl. “But we cannot talk of security without speaking about the availability of weapons in the hands of the people.”

The people crowded into the cramped, humid conference hall had come from every corner of South Sudan’s Lakes State, They represented the state’s elite, its patriarchy, its decision makers and representatives for the hundreds of thousands of people sprawled across the vast region. They were county commissioners, chiefs of police, tribal elders, leaders of youth and women. They had come to discuss security for their people, and one particular topic carried the heavy weight of history – disarmament. Just three weeks earlier, the latest campaign had been launched by government decree.

No-one knows for sure how many weapons are in Lakes State today. But if you consider that each household has at least one or two, as many locals suggest, then it is reasonable to assume that there could be as many as 50,000 small arms – most likely Chinese made copies of the AK47 assault rifle – in the hands of the people.

South Sudan is one of the most heavily armed countries in the world, where guns have been a way of life for generations. This has led to a spiral of violence, for guns in the hands of poor people from tribal warrior traditions of pride, protection and self-determination lead to increasingly deadly clashes. ‘We have always been warriors.’ Santo, the state security adviser told me, ‘But with weapons such as these, we are killing one another more than ever before.’

One of the most pressing questions for a newly independent state, seeking above all a sense of national unity, is – what to do about it?

Disarming civilian populations in the wake of war is a highly risky undertaking. Few nations have ever managed it successfully – Rwanda, Sierra Leone, a handful of others. South Sudan’s own recent efforts however, have been disastrous.

The government’s approach in recent years of instructing its army to forcefully disarm the population was met with such violent resistance that the region nearly collapsed back into civil war. More people were killed in these campaigns over that period, than any other reason. So the people of Lakes have good reason to fear another attempt, and to prepare again to repel the government’s efforts to emasculate them.

Yet despite these fears, this does not seem to be happening. Three weeks into the latest campaign, the mood is almost universally positive. ‘We are a new country and people are sick of fighting. They don’t want to be killed. Even the youth in the cattle camps are giving up their guns.’ the Lakes State Governor Chol Tong told me through a mouth of gleaming gold teeth.

And this time, it seems the state may have learned its lesson. Rather than government troops forcing people to turn their weapons over at gunpoint, it is the traditional elders who have been asking people to come forward. Despite my instinctive cynicism, hundreds of weapons have been returned so far.

The real test will come in a few weeks, when it will be the turn of the troops to follow up with forced searches of those who are suspected to have kept their arms.

It is early days, and many questions remain; What is to be done with the returned weapons? How will the searches be conducted? Will communities bordering states who have not yet disarmed be attacked? It is also clear that no matter how many weapons are returned this time around, it will be a drop in the ocean.

But, if it is a peaceful process, and history tells us that this may be a big ask, then it will have been a positive start to what may take many years to wean people from their weapons. As the Commissioner for Rumbeck Central County, Dut Makoi Kuok put it; “The youth were born into war. We need to know how to take them from a culture of war to a culture of peace. This will take a generation.”

South Sudan Blog 5: The rock crushers of Jebel Mara

by Hamish Wilson/

I set off early, heading for the rocky summit of Jebel Mara.

The rising sun lit the vast granite outcrop overlooking South Sudan’s capital of Juba. The faint trail was engulfed in elephant grass, towering over me as I clawed and sweated my way upward.

I broke free momentarily of the jungle flanking the summit, and found myself face to face with a young South Sudanese man sitting back on his haunches, watching me silently. He was clad only in a pair of filthy shorts, and his muscled torso gleamed with sweat. About him lay a tumble of granite boulders, pitted with the fresh scars of his pickaxe.

We eyed each other for a moment, until his steady gaze broke into a wide grin. ‘I am Moses’ he announced in thick English. I sat next to him, thankful for the respite. The air rang with a rhythmic high-pitched ring of steel against rock, and I realised Moses was not alone.

‘This is how we make money.’ he told me as I peered at his crude tools. Just then the rumble of falling rocks startled me. From the bushes, two men, hard and lean like Moses, strained to roll giant boulders past us, blazing an earthen trail through the grass to the valley floor below.

‘We came to Juba to escape the war. Now we live in the caves.’ He told me simply, pointing to a distant hillside. His face was weathered, his hands gnarled and strong. As he continued I discovered that small bands of men like him lived rough, enduring rain, snakes and mosquitoes, spending their days dragging massive rocks from the face of the Jebel.

I learned that while the men scale the rocky ridges in search of boulders, their women work in the valley below. Their daylight hours are spent breaking the stone down into saleable chunks, painstakingly growing the piles that now line the tracks. It is relentless and backbreaking. Their children scamper amongst the rocks and muddy streams, quick to inspect any passing hawajas (white people) like me.

Moses told me that each pile sells for about one hundred dollars. This seemed to me a reasonable sum, until he mentioned that it takes at least two weeks to gather enough stone into a pile. And it might take up to three months to sell a single pile to any of the local businessmen – who sell the stone onto foreign construction companies at a hefty margin.

It dawned on me that this was truly a sentence of hard labour. There are no welfare programmes in South Sudan. No support for people displaced by fighting. No pension schemes, and very few jobs. If a family’s granite doesn’t sell, their only option is to head back up the hill and keep digging. Snakebite, malaria or injury would leave them with few prospects.

I realised that this is the nature of livelihoods in South Sudan. For some, this is what it now means to ‘earn a living’. Many of these same families survived years of conflict, constantly moving, living in the bush. The men no doubt carried weapons and most likely took some part in the war. And as I descended from the summit of Jebel Mara later that day, I wondered if perhaps some of them would rather still be there now.

Katie’s Journal – An exploration of the arts and HIV in Malawi and South Africa: Blog 4

by Hamish Wilson/

Katie Chalcraft has been awarded a Winston Churchill Travelling Fellowship and is currently travelling in Malawi and South Africa, exploring the use of arts in programmes working with people living with HIV. This blog is the fourth in a series of journal entries from Katie as she travels.

People Like Us

In 2007 Temwa made a film about HIV in the community. Jumbo, Project Coordinator at Temwa tells me that people love to watch films here. Video shows attract large crowds and people in the community will walk over an hour to get to one of the showings. They have become an effective medium for transmitting health messages. The week before I visited Temwa they were conducting a series of shows across Usisya in partnership with Utu Africa.

The film People Like Us was developed in response to comments from the community that the people in the films saying they were HIV+ could have been actors just saying they were HIV+ for money, they were not ‘people like us’. Temwa set about finding people from within the community living with HIV who were willing to share their testimony on film. They found three people, I interviewed two of them.

Jumbo and I walked in the midday sun along sandy paths and up a rocky mountain path to reach Jane’s house. On her veranda she sat leaning against the wall, her daughter was absentmindedly playing with the marbles from Bau (an African game) young baby on her lap. Jumbo translated for me as I explained to Jane why we had come to talk with her. One of the main motivations behind my research was to find out more about the impact that being part of theatre and visual arts programmes has on people living with HIV. With HIV theatre projects in particular, behaviour change is often evaluated by monitoring knowledge, attitude and behaviour change among the target population. However, I am interested in the psychosocial impact that performing one’s story of living with HIV has on the performer. Whilst I had not anticipated interviewing PLHIV who had been in films, the opportunity arose and I grabbed it. How had being in People Like Us affected Jane’s life, her attitude towards living with HIV, her role in society, her relationships in the community?

Jane glowed with pride when she spoke about her involvement in the film. She explained that the film was an appeal to the general community to know their HIV status. She said that it took a lot of courage to act in the film. In the support groups for PLHIV there were many people but very few were public about their HIV status. She said it took her some time to decide. Some members asked for money to participate in the film but Jane told me she did it for free. “I wanted to show people that it can be done without money. Today people confront me, you did this for nothing, why? I tell them I wanted to give them a message.”

Jane tested +ve in Zambia in 2005 and started on antiretroviral therapy in 2006. She tells me that she had a very good counsellor and all her problems and concerns vanished right there in the testing room. She feels very proud, usually after the film is shown, people come to her home. They see her preparing nsima and digging in her garden and see that she is healthy. She is very proud when people see what she is able to do and how she is able to live, proud of what she has achieved.

I asked if people living with HIV came to her for advice, she said it is very difficult for people to do this because that is automatically disclosing their status and people fear to be laughed at, men say if I say I am HIV+ then I can’t propose love to any woman.

I ask her: what elements do you need to live a full and happy life? She responds: not feeling sick, participating in sports, good food, a leak-proof house, feeling energetic, able to do work, having capital, running a good business, and being able to support family. Jumbo used the training I had provided 2 days previously to run through the batteries methodology with Jane. He used a stick to draw the batteries in the red sand of her yard.

Normally this tool would be used in relation to a programme intervention rather than something as short-lived as involvement in a film. However, it seemed like a good opportunity to talk through how the film had impacted Jane’s quality of life if it had and also an opportunity for Jumbo to put into practice what he had learned.

Jane cited that her emotional happiness had improved due to her involvement in the film – she was happy that people were talking about her status and said that she feels proud when people watch her on the screen and when they come and talk to her about it, it makes her feel better about herself. Following the film she has been approached by a number of organisations to attend trainings – this she tells us has empowered her and also contributed to the increase in her energy levels in the fourth domain of change: Livelihood and Security. Through the trainings she has been exposed to ways to find food and money for her family.

For Anderson, talking in the film about his status was not difficult. His main motivator was his interest in educating people. He started to be open about his HIV status after joining the Zetuwekha support group set up for HIV+ people by Temwa. Following the film he also had many people approaching him, he now calls himself a public figure. He speaks at events about HIV – when people are meeting to play Bau and at funerals. He prides himself on giving correct info about HIV to the people in his community. He says he has seen an increase in the number of people going for testing as a direct result of the film.

I ask where he gets all his HIV info that he is sharing in the community – he tells me he is learning from trainings and a support group. But the support group is not meeting at the moment, they got funding from the National AIDS Commission but, he tells me that the people in the support group who were in charge of the money squandered it, a story that is not unfamiliar in Malawi. I think of the corrupt border guard I encountered who was asking for my jewellery in addition to the extra 5000 Kwacha he was charging me to enter the country. Since 2010, no one meets. He tells me he misses it so much, the group once had over 20  members whenever they met they had an experience, they would learn from each other. He said that after the group met he would always go home happy. I ask him what is the solution? He says Temwa should write letters to the group members and invite members back. For me, his words underline the importance of community in achieving emotional wellbeing.

So what does a good QoL involve for Anderson? Being HIV negative, having a happy family, good food, a happy house, access to medical services, having a fishing net, being able to catch fish, eat fish, sell fish, farm and grow his own food.

Similarly to Jane the reasons for improvement in health were not attributed to the film. However, in relation to emotional happiness he says that now his energy level is at 10 – he has no concerns, no worries and is very proud of what people see in the film People Like Us. As a result of his involvement in the film he took part in positive living training (another Temwa programme) which he tells us taught him a lot, especially about diet and safe sex. Whilst his livelihood was not directly influenced by his involvement in the film he did say that some people do approach him and give him small amounts of money to congratulate him for taking part in the film, which helps.

As mentioned, this was a slightly unorthodox way to test the Batteries Methodology, nevertheless it does seem to demonstrate some genuine positive changes experienced by the two participants interviewed and provided a good talking tool to unpack the reasons behind changes in their energy levels. Consequently I am reviewing the possibilities that this methodology offers, whilst keeping a critical eye on the situation on the ground. So far Malawi, Temwa’s work, their inspirational staff, school children and project beneficiaries  have made me realise the value of community here and the determination of people to fight for a better future for themselves.

*FYI – for more info on the Batteries Methodology please contact Harriet Jones at [email protected]

NB –full quantitative data regarding the research gathered using the Batteries Methodology will be available in my full research report

Katie’s Journal – An exploration of the arts and HIV in Malawi and South Africa: Blog 3

by Hamish Wilson/

Katie Chalcraft has been awarded a Winston Churchill Travelling Fellowship and is currently travelling in Malawi and South Africa, exploring the use of arts in programmes working with people living with HIV. This blog is the third in a series of journal entries from Katie as she travels.

DAY 2: Temwa

 Forum Theatre

On my second day in Usisya, Kams and I left her home at 5.30am and met Hillary on the path for our 2 ½ hour walk to Chiwisi Primary School. Determined not to be deterred by the lack of fuel and transport Hilary and Kams have spent the last few months walking up and down mountains for up to 6 hours in a day to deliver training to the AIDS Action Clubs. AIDS Action clubs were a government initiative for young people in schools to receive education on HIV, to protect themselves from the virus and to fight the stigma and discrimination so commonly associated with HIV.

In June, Hilary and Kams ran training with Chiwisi’s AIDS Action Club in communication, leadership and introduction to drama skills. Following this, four star pupils were selected along with four from each of the other 29 AIDS Action clubs from schools in Temwa’s catchment area to be trained in forum theatre. Today’s visit to Chiwisi was to monitor what the club members had retained from the trainings and to prepare them for an open day planned next month. The open day would provide the opportunity for the AIDS Action clubs from a number of schools to introduce the community to forum theatre and to show how they can use forum theatre as a way of ‘rehearsing life’ and practicing behaviour change.

Forum theatre was developed by Augusto Boal and is highly participatory. It involves directly inviting audience members to the stage to try to find practical strategies for changing the behaviour of the characters in the play. This kind of theatre has proved to be a powerful method for developing dialogue around HIV and sex education as it favours critical thinking and draws attention to social and psychological aspects of the pandemic.

In the dark and dusty classroom, AIDS Action Club members (aged between 13 and 17) ran games to warm up the audience. Following this they forumed a real life situation: a schoolgirl was telling her parents that she was going to school when really she was going to meet her boyfriend. The facilitator, a skinny young boy (no more than 13 years of age), pauses the scene and asked the audience – so what is the problem here? He gathered the answers: the main concern of these school children was that the girl is at risk of contracting HIV.

The facilitator then asked the audience to get into groups for 5 minutes and to brainstorm what the girl can do to change her situation. The following solutions were suggested: the schoolgirl should be advised to use a condom, be counselled to abstain from sex, go for an HIV test. The facilitator explained that anyone in the audience can step into the scene and try out their solution. A slender young girl with high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes raises her hand – she wants to participate. The facilitator clarified who she was in relation to the protagonist, which point she wishes to step into the play and where she is coming from when she enters the scene.

So she steps out from the audience and onto the stage as the friend of the schoolgirl. She begins her intervention by chastising the boyfriend before turning her attention to her friend warning her that she should not be having sex with him because of the risks of contracting HIV. She spoke of the importance of going to school and getting an education. Her friend is resistant, arguing “who does not want a man? He gives me money, he gives me love – who would not want that? What’s the point in me going to school when I can be supported by this man?” It appears that her boyfriend is older than her and is working, the school children tell me that this is a common scenario. After some time and a heated discussion, finally the friend convinces her to focus on her education and to leave her boyfriend.

Following this conclusion, the facilitator asked the audience: “having watched the drama has the problem been solved? Are you happy with that solution? Are there any other solutions?”. Some other bold young women say that the girl must learn how to use condoms, another one says the girl in the play must go for Voluntary Counselling and Testing. The facilitator probes further – if you were in this situation what would you do? Would this solution work for you? Would you use this solution for your friends here in school? Why? Why would this work? What have we learned from this? Where do we take this information now? The facilitator summarised the drama and the key lessons learned before closing with a game.

I was particularly impressed with how the girls spoke out, their knowledge about condoms and the importance of testing. Contrary to my expectations, it was the girls who spoke out in this scenario more than the boys. Forum theatre is providing these young people not only with an opportunity to practice dealing with real life situations they face but it also provides a forum to explore the variety of options available to them in reaching solutions. I wish I had time to attend one of the open days it would have been interesting to observe the response of the audience in the community.

Arriving home exhausted, having scrambled over rocks, through the lake, trees and bushes (Hilary took us on a short cut!), I was struck by the sheer dogged determination of Temwa staff to continue to run their programmes despite the many obstacles they may face in their work. I was informed that the route I walked was one of the easier ones and Kams and Hilary joked that this time we were lucky because at least we had food and water with us.

Katie’s Journal – An exploration of the arts and HIV in Malawi and South Africa: Blog 2

by Hamish Wilson/

Katie Chalcraft has been awarded a Winston Churchill Travelling Fellowship and is currently travelling in Malawi and South Africa, exploring the use of arts in programmes working with people living with HIV. This blog is the second in a series of journal entries from Katie as she travels.

Batteries Methodology Training at Temwa

Upon waking up in Kams’ house in Usisya we walked to the Temwa offices. Temwa in Usisya consists of two buildings – a community library with the programme manager’s office attached, and a community hall with an office for the rest of the staff. I am shown around the community garden where food is grown for PLHIV, widows and orphans. The produce is sold to the rest of the community. I am told that the people of Usisya at first only believed that cassava grew there, the demonstration garden was set up to prove otherwise. Seeing is believing. The villagers became despondent at first when they did not see quick results, to them reiterating that the lake soil was only good for cassava; however, there is now a wide range of vegetables available to them.

In the afternoon I ran the training with the Temwa staff in the Batteries Methodology. This approach was developed by CAFOD to support partners in assessing changes in the quality of life of programme clients, and to increase participation of clients in programme monitoring and design. It was developed in consultation with CAFOD community-based programme partners in Nigeria, Cambodia, Kenya, Tanzania and Mozambique.

The methodology provides a way of assessing the impact that programmes are having on the quality of life of people living with or otherwise affected by HIV. This information then supports organisations in providing a holistic programmatic response. The Temwa staff had an interesting brainstorm on quality of life. In response to the question “what does it mean to lead a happy and fulfilled life?”, answers ranged from: freedom and rights, sex, beer, access to good health services, peace, land, education, a sofa set, a good cell phone, fuel, a fat salary, etc. The answers were divided into 4 domains of change: Health, Emotional Happiness, Knowledge and Empowerment and Livelihood Security*.

Participants rated their energy level from 1 to 10 on pictures of batteries in the four domains of change mentioned above. This method can be used as a baseline before a programme intervention, or can be done retrospectively – how would you rate your QoL now in the domains of change mentioned above? Thinking back to before you were involved in the programme – how would you rate your QoL then, using the same domains of change. With Temwa the staff would potentially either be conducting research using the methodology themselves or training others in using it, so to enable them to practice this methodology we used the example of assessing their quality of life retrospectively since joining the organisation.

I used this merely as an example to demonstrate how to use the batteries tool and was not prepared for the heartfelt challenges that were aired in the group. The challenges of living in Usisya were exposed. A number of frustrations were raised about working in such a remote area however, it seemed that the desire of the staff to serve the community overcame the desire for a ‘fat salary’ and the ‘sofa set’.

The next step following the indication of energy levels ‘now’ and ‘before joining the organisation’ was to unpack the reasons behind the shift. Fuel and transport featured highly as well as the need for rural allowances. It seems the voices of those on the ground need to be heard by those in the Mzuzu office generally creating a better line of communication between the offices and ensuring that Temwa’s excellent standards of work are maintained.

Katie’s Journal – An exploration of the arts and HIV in Malawi and South Africa: Blog 1

by Hamish Wilson/

Katie Chalcraft has been awarded a Winston Churchill Travelling Fellowship and is currently travelling in Malawi and South Africa, exploring the use of arts in programmes working with people living with HIV. This blog is one of a series of journal entries from Katie as she travels.

To Temwa…

It was as if we were driving along a silver thread. Sitting on a bench in the back of the vehicle, my back to one window, looking out of the other, I could not see the road; I could only see the silhouettes of mountains in the moonlight. Sheer blue shapes, the enormity of the landscape, we were so high, and the drop-off so steep If the road were not so bumpy we could have been flying. I pressed my thumb and forefinger together in a cross and kissed them. I do this to pray for safety, a technique I have used on perilous adventures around the world in an attempt to bring peace of mind. I recalled the moment when my brother first taught it to me, I was to do it when I saw or heard an ambulance. I smiled to myself; I was now travelling in an ambulance. One of eight passengers, I was squashed between Kams, a volunteer from the UK for an NGO called Temwa, and Steve the medical assistant for a local health care centre. The driver was Rasheed, other passengers included Lucy a nurse, her husband and child and some villagers whose faces I could not see in the dark and whose voices I could not hear over the roar of the engine and the sounds of UB40 blasting from the stereo. None of us were ill; this was merely the only means of transport we could use to travel from Mzuzu to Usisya, a remote rural area in Northern Malawi.

The purpose of my journey was to visit Temwa, a UK-based NGO that are implementing a series of programmes aimed at providing sustainable, community-driven development in: health education, skills development, agriculture, irrigation and schools support in Nkhata Bay North. This remote region of 28,000 people has no electricity, no running water and is severely affected by the HIV epidemic. There are no other NGOs working in the region and the local government strongly encouraged Temwa to work in this area due to its need for basic development.

This year I received a grant from the Winston Churchill Memorial Trust to conduct research into ‘Tackling HIV-related stigma through visual and performance arts’. Temwa is the first organisation I am visiting as part of my research. The key objectives of my research are to gain a comprehensive understanding of how the visual and performance arts techniques of body mapping and interactive theatre affect the self-perception of people living with HIV (PLHIV); and to gather information on the perceived strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and constraints of these approaches from a wide range of stakeholders in Malawi and South Africa.

(It’s not) All About Me

When I initially wrote to Tonderai, Temwa’s Programme Manager, explaining my research interests and enquiring if I could visit Temwa, the response I received was curt. He proposed conditions under which I could visit: he stated that one of the major deliverables of my assignment must be that I design a project and create links for possible funding for a sexual and reproductive health programme amongst young mothers and adolescent girls in Nkhata Bay North. He said he would like to see the communities benefitting more from all those who come and work with Temwa. The conditions he specified were neither in line with my research nor with my expertise, however Tonderai raised a valid point and for this I am most grateful as it led me to re-frame my research. It is all very well going to organisations and learning from them but what was I actually contributing in return?

I am clear on what I want to gain from this opportunity and what learning I would take back to the UK with me. Through the experience gained in Malawi and South Africa I plan to develop a programme of creative workshops for PLHIV based on interactive theatre techniques and body mapping. These workshops will aim to support people in rethinking their relationship with the virus, their bodies, antiretroviral therapy, their lives and the laws and policies that affect them. This work aims to increase the quality of life of PLHIV by introducing new coping mechanisms to address the self-stigma, depression and low self-esteem often associated with HIV. The question remained: what would the organisations I visited in Malawi and South Africa gain from my visit?

I will share learning between institutions, highlighting best practice, and submit an abstract of my findings to the 2012 International AIDS Society conference. Following a conversation with Tonderai we came to an agreement. He identified a need for his organisation to develop their expertise in monitoring and evaluation; I could conduct my research with Temwa on the condition that I shared my experience in this area. I agreed to run a workshop for Temwa on a tool developed by CAFOD (Catholic Agency for Overseas Development) called the Batteries Methodology: A Participatory Approach to Assessing the Quality of Life of People living with and affected by HIV.

 

Journey to Usisya

Following a 9 hour bus journey from Lilongwe to Mzuzu, I was met at the bus depot by Kams who, together with a Project Officer at Temwa named Hilary, runs forum theatre workshops with the AIDS Action clubs in and around Usisya. Kams took me to meet Tonderai and the other staff at Temwa’s Mzuzu office. Tonderai looked tired and frustrated as he explained how the fuel crisis in Malawi is seriously impacting their ability to do their work. Temwa’s main office is in Mzuzu but their work in the field is conducted in Usisya, a remote area made up of 56 villages in and around the lake. The organisation’s vehicle was in repair and we needed both fuel and transport to travel to Usisya. Tonderai heard that fuel was on its way to Mzuzu (the closest town to Usisya), loading his car with jerry cans he set off from the office for the gas station joking that he would wait as long as it was necessary and that he was prepared for a fight at the pumps!

Unfortunately, after a long wait Tonderai returned without fuel, so Kams and I stayed the night in Mzuzu and hatched Plan B. Rasheed the ambulance driver from Usisya was in town – we would travel with him the following night.

Fuelling Health

Usisya is set in and around the mountains leading down to the lake, the views are spectacular but I am told that life is hard here. There is one health centre where Steve and Lucy work. However, there is no trained doctor there. Steve and Lucy serve a community of 14,000 people but their contracts are only temporary and they are limited in what they can do without a doctor; most cases need to be referred onto Mzuzu hospital. Rasheed drives the ambulance from Usisya to Mzuzu sometimes up to 2 to 3 times in a day. The journey itself is anywhere between 2 to 5 hours depending on the season and how passable the road is.

The roles of nurse and medical assistants are based at Usisya’s health care centre for 3-4 months only. People simply don’t want to stay for longer: the environment is too harsh. Steve and Lucy, like Rasheed, are not entitled to holiday, they are constantly on call and only get to leave Usisya for training. Transport from Mzuzu to Usisya is limited to the ambulance or the Petronics truck – an open truck leaving Usisya at 2am. The truck is packed with people; the journey is cold, dusty, bumpy and extremely dangerous. What is needed, I am told, are health professionals from Usisya itself as they would not mind living there as much as the outsiders, but due to the poor level of education in Usisya this has proved to be difficult. The fuel crisis compounds the situation: Rasheed, the ambulance driver with whom we travelled, spent 3 days in Nkhata Bay trying to get fuel for his ambulance, leaving the people of Usisya stranded and unable to reach a hospital. We were told of a woman so sick and in need of hospitalisation she embarked upon the perilous journey through the mountain passes in the back of the Petronius truck in his absence. It seems there are no special allowances in the fuel crisis for ambulances; indeed taxis seem to get fuel over and above ambulances. Word can get out that fuel is there but it’s all about who you know, and people book the fuel before it even arrives. Long queues of cars are a common sight in gas stations all across Malawi. Sometimes people wait at the pumps all day, leave their vehicles overnight only to return the next morning and begin waiting again. Many buy fuel on the black market but it is often mixed with water or paraffin. A few days ago an NGO worker told a story of a man trying to set himself on fire at a fuel station here, he was so frustrated having waited many hours for fuel that by the time he got it he decided to make a point by dousing himself in it and setting himself alight. The attendants managed to put the flames out before too much damage was done, it reminded me of the Arab Spring scenario but we are not allowed to mention that here.

South Sudan Blog 4: Roads

by Hamish Wilson/

It is difficult to grasp just how much we in the developed world take our roads for granted. Growing up in rural Australia, endless stretches of blacktop shimmering in the heat haze were an unquestioned necessity.

This is not the case in South Sudan. Roughly the size of France, it has a total of around 4,000 kilometres of hard-packed dirt road, in conditions generally ranging from poor to diabolical. There is a mere 100km of paved road, shared across the country’s three largest towns.

To put this into perspective, France itself has just over one million kilometres of road. (1,000,960 to be precise). All of it paved. Which is almost exactly ten thousand times the amount of tarmac in South Sudan.

Comparisons such as these can often mean little. But for any average South Sudanese farmer, living in just about any village in the country, it means an awful lot;

A road means he might be able to get his crops or his cattle to market without having to walk for days. This eases the burden on his family, especially his children who otherwise have to fetch water, tend the cattle and forage from a young age.

It means a greater chance a school can be constructed in his community, and staffed with trained teachers who are able to live in areas previously out of reach. This means it is more likely his children will receive an education. It means his wife has a better chance of delivering their next child in a medical clinic, rather than risking her life to give birth alone.

It means it more likely that a police post will be built in the area, which means that marauding attacks by cattle raiders or rebel groups will be less frequent, and less bloody. It means that he is more likely to actually meet those officials who represent him in the government. And he is more likely to have a say in the decisions they are making on his behalf.

You get the point. Roads are no panacea. But they do improve security, extend governance and reduce poverty. The UK think tank ODI recently reported that rural road construction provided widespread benefits to poor communities; expanding markets, improving access to education, strengthening livelihoods, increasing opportunities for women, and more.

The benefits have not been lost of the South Sudan Government. Kuol Manyang, Governor for the South Sudan’s largest state of Jonglei bluntly told me recently “In this state, roads are more important than schools. Without them we perish. And this government will perish also.”

Yet there are excellent reasons behind the virtual absence of roads in his state. Forty years of war aside, they are extremely difficult to build, and massively expensive.

Most of Jonglei is swamp. The rest is made up of the dreaded black-cotton soil, benign and forgiving in the dry, but turning into an evil sludge with the consistency of treacle the instant rains fall. Any road therefore has to be surfaced with gravel. Unfortunately this gravel, known as ‘murrum’ is only available in a handful of areas across the country. Every shovel load has to be painstakingly hauled over desperately poor roads that deteriorate further with the passing of each truck. Out here the circle is vicious.

This means that the average cost per kilometre of dirt road becomes anywhere between $30,000 to $200,000 depending on its remoteness. At close to one million dollars per kilometre, tarmac is not even an option.

I met Patrick Ivo, a South Sudanese engineer working in Jonglei. He told me that even the best ‘murrumed’ roads don’t survive the thundering rains which pound the landscape in the wet season. Without maintenance (which is expensive), they will last two years. He shook his head mournfully as he told me of thirty trucks, each laden with construction materials, lying marooned in the black-cotton morass less than fifty kilometres from the state capital of Bor. There they will stand until the rains cease in a few months.

Despite the challenges, there is cause for optimism. The UK funded South Sudan Recovery Fund is constructing 600 kilometres of road across some of the most conflict prone and inaccessible areas. The UK is considering investing further in a rural ‘feeder’ roads network, linking into the work of the Americans and Chinese who are pumping vast amounts into primary road construction. It will take time, money and commitment of the government and its partners. It will also require patience for rural communities. But change is coming.