I have a dream

On a Wednesday afternoon I met a group of women who live in a small village in the north of Mozambique. Most of them have worked on their land all day, and look tired. They are concerned about me catching a few rays of sunlight and urge me to move into the shadow. It am surprised to notice that some of them have small pearls of sweat popping up on their faces, while I actually do not feel that hot. While we sit down on a mat of woven leafs, I look at their headbands and skirts and I try to copy their body language.

We start to chat, they explain how they organized themselves in a group about five years ago. They had some education together, that is, until their teacher stopped visiting them. They started to farm, growing tomatoes and unions on a piece of land that was not used and they could borrow. It went well, and the land looked like a proper farm after a few years of hard work. Around that time, the owner of the land wanted to sell it. He did offer it to these ladies first, but they couldn’t afford to buy it. It was sold to someone else and the women were left with nothing.

Recently they got a break again: they applied for money to buy chicken and were granted with a start-up capital. After the farming failure, most of the ladies gave up on the idea of the women’s group. The new money was granted by white people which caused distrust in the community. The group that started off with 80 is now reduced to about 15 women.

A few of the ladies went out to buy 200 chicken. Upon return with the animals, they found out that while they had been out a part of the shed that they had made collapsed. Considering they had 200 chicken to keep an eye on, their first priority was to fix the shed. Due to this unexpected event, they had run out of money to buy feed for the chicken. So now they had 200 white chicken in a neat looking shed, but the animals hadn’t eaten in days.

When I asked them what they dream about, this is the story they shared with me. The concluding words were: “There is no point in dreaming. We dreamt a little, were aspirational, we tried something new. In the end, it got us nowhere.”

As we enter the shed, the chicken are taking a particular interest in my feet. So here I am, in a shed in rural Mozambique, wondering if it is normal chicken behavior to pick a white ladies’ feet, or if they are just so hungry that they hope my feet are actually their feed. And wondering what are we going to do about this situation…

On their request, me and my local guy came up with a range of ideas, varying from “use some money of the current harvest to invest in chicken feed” to “start to sell eggs down the road” to “kill a few chicken and prepare nice chicken meals that you sell at the mosque for an upcoming public holiday”. None of the ideas seemed to spark something, and my local guy estimated the chance that they were actually going to pursue any of them about 5%.

It’s quite a challenge not to get frustrated when listening to these stories. On the one hand, this is exactly why I like to work in this area: there is a lot of improvement potential, and small changes can have a huge impact. On the other hand, I realize that this is a target group that is difficult to reach, and the thought alone of working with a group with their attitude makes me feel tired.

“Entitlement mentality” annoys me. I understand that these ladies ask us for money to solve their problems. There are 290 NGOs in Mozambique, and there is little private sector activity. Inhabitants of the rural areas are used to receiving something when they meet a foreigner. And as I learned in Kenya last summer: “You can’t blame us for trying…”. At the same time, I would like to see people taking ownership of their own problems. To make it their challenge to find a solution, to involve others in their search for a solution, but not to expect strangers to come in and pick up the pieces after something has gone wrong. Very Dutch of me, you might say. I know.

I do think one will find people who simply will not get anything done – either because they are lazy, have a negative attitude towards life, because they have no goal whatsoever, or just because they can’t be bothered – anywhere around the world. I also believe that you can find go-getters, people who have ideas, who know what they want, who will fight for what they believe in who will be very successful at it at some point, at any place in the world you can imagine. These are the people that I am looking for to work with in and beyond Mozambique.

In order to do this work, you have to believe in it a little. You have to have a dream. A few days later I was so glad, to meet a smart student buzzing with energy, good ideas, and a can-do mentality. Can you imagine how his t-shirt made me smile? Encounters like this make sure that I remember my dream, and they keep me going, while having a lot of fun. It won’t be easy, but we’ll get there.

Back on Popular Demand

3 months of sincere and honest blogging, and then.. nothing. No activity on the web, apart from a few tweets. Somehow I thought that would pass by without anyone noticing. Well… it didn’t. Many thanks for the encouragement. I’m back on popular demand.

What happened after these 3 roller-coaster months? I took a holiday, got back home, took some time to settle back in, moved to Amsterdam. I realized it would not be a good idea for me to go back to a ‘regular’ job. I wanted to continue to work on the topic that I’ve been passionate about since I first came across it. My enthusiasm about it had grown even more after my consultancy for WFP, and I had a clearer picture of the business potential.

So I’ve found a new job with the same company in which I continue to work on this topic. In the coming period my challenge is to develop product propositions that are attractive to consumers at the base of the pyramid: people with a daily income of 2-9 dollars. These products will help them improve their diet and as a consequence of that, their health. They need to be available in remote areas, so the distribution channel will be a challenge. And since the spending power of this consumer segment is low, the business model around it will be a challenge as well. The good news is that I like a challenge! And the thought that if we are able to ‘crack’ this one, we will be able to make a huge impact, is encouraging.

My first pilot is in Mozambique, famous for its beaches, and in the Netherlands for the fact that our crown prince wanted to buy a house there. He decided not to in the end, after a huge amount of criticism in the media on this plan. Mozambique is a poor country, also in comparison to several other African countries, such as Kenya for example. It’s a new country for us, we never did any business there yet.

I am writing this blog post as I’m on my way to Mozambique. In the next few weeks, I will be exploring this country with my colleagues from South Africa. Not yet with the hard objective to identify a business case. First we try to get a sense of how people live and what they aspire. How do they spend their days, what is important to them? What do they like to eat and how do they cook it?

From now on you’ll be able to follow me via this blog again. Post a reply or drop me an email if you have ideas, suggestions, or if you’d just like to say hi. I look forward to be in touch with you.

Kenya video

Because my movie on Bangladesh was so much appreciated, I made one on Kenya as well.

For DSM computers and slow internet connections, check it out on Vimeo: http://vimeo.com/5891066

And for all others, find the HD version on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3RoxwTQqIgY

Enjoy! Eveline

Closing Remarks

Although I cannot wait to start my holiday (tonight!), I it is hard to believe that my assignment is finished now. I would like to give my final thoughts on my time with WFP, but I feel like I felt all the way at the beginning – don’t know where to start, don’t know how to put it in words. But I feel like I owe my readers a proper conclusion. I cannot believe that this blog has had over 2600 hits since I started it, I’ve seen on average 30 visitors per day. Mondays and Fridays are apparently good days to read my blog, views go up to about 80 on those days, one peak day even registered 170 visitors.. many thanks for your interest – and for those of you who left comments: I really enjoyed reading them and very much appreciate it.

I’ve been on the road for almost 3 months now. I visited places I only knew from news broadcasts, documentaries and books. Those scenes have come to life for me, and I know the registration that was made of that in my head will stick with me. Although I seem to have gotten used to a lot by now, I acknowledge that it is very rare for someone like me to see what I’ve seen in real life. No matter how heartbreaking it sometimes was, I have been grateful along the way to see it with my own eyes.

I’ve seen more poverty and misery than I could deal with at times. I realized – truly realized – how privileged I have been, growing up in wealth, in a loving and caring family, having a good education, and literally all the opportunities in the world.

It was a strange setting. Everyone at home thinks it is so extraordinary what I’m doing here – and so do I – but for the people I work with here, it is their daily job. The work is not without risks though. While I was here, some colleagues were kidnapped and held hostage for a few days – it was the talk of the town. I met a young German guy who works with WFP Somalia, which is headquartered in Nairobi. I met him in a bar where we were making jokes about the work and safety issues. I was impressed because he consciously goes out to this dangerous place all the time, in a rhythm of spending two weeks there and one week in Nairobi. He has a wife and a young daughter. When I saw him at the office a few days ago, he had just come back from Somalia. He told me “it’s always good to be back. At least I’ve survived another trip.”

Many people have asked me if it has made me a better person. I couldn’t say yes to that, all I know is that I am a better informed person now. Although I do not think I have mastered (or ever will master) the complete picture, I sure did learn a lot about developing economies, local and international politics, corruption, NGOs and other forms of relief, different strategies, what works and what doesn’t work and why, and of course I learned about the World Food Programme, how they work and why they work in this way.

Before I started this assignment I read a few books on related topics. One of them was Dead Aid by Dambisa Moyo. One of her messages is that aid made Africa dependent on others, and if we truly want to help, we should leave the continent alone in many ways, so that people are forced to sort out their own problems. Over the last few months I have brought up her point of view in conversations with some of the most committed development workers I have met – interesting discussions I can assure you!

Many arguments can be used for and against her statement, it is a very difficult discussion. I surely do not have the answer, but one thing I learned is that aid is not always helping (e.g. some NGOs in Kenya are handing out free water purifiers in rural areas but they do not explain how to use them – in the end children use them to play soccer with), and it is not always intended to be helping either (e.g. shameless corruption, fraud that ensures donors do not notice the organization is actually not doing too much to help, etc).

On the positive side, I have seen a lot of good work too, and I have seen with my own eyes how much it is needed. I have mentioned this a number of times and I will do it again: I have gained a great respect for many of the people I met here, especially at the World Food Programme, for their passion, dedication, knowledge and for their truly amazing work. And I am glad to work for DSM. Anyone who claims that such a partnership is only a communication trick of big companies should think twice, look at the details, and meet the people who are working on it. In the end it is people who make the difference, and not all people who work in the private sector are bad and have dollar-signs reflected in their eyes – many people have the best intentions and act much more sincere than we might expect.

What is the conclusion of my assignment? Overall I am positive about the opportunities to have public-private partnerships around products like MixMe. They are complex, and they will not simply work everywhere, but I am convinced that they will within specific contexts and economies. I am recommending DSM and WFP to continue on this path and to take it to the next level – which now brings us to the critical point where firm decisions need to be made and we can move from talking and preparing to action.

In the meantime, I was glad to contribute to some important running issues along the way. People have listened, and they have acted – fast. It is rewarding for me to see for myself while I am still here that my assignment has made an impact already. I am keen to contribute more through my final reporting and overall debriefing, after my holiday.

I started this assignment with an open mind. I hoped it would be an adventure and a proper break from my normal life. It definitely was. I almost feel like I have gained a few years while skipping my birthdays. Sure it was tough at times, both physically and mentally, but it has been good fun as well. When people ask me my what my passion is, I normally tell them traveling. I actually mean anything that makes my world bigger, which can be the discovery of new music, fashion, architecture, literature, foreign cultures, but it is often easiest understood under the header traveling. In my life, I have experienced a number of events or periods that made my world a whole lot bigger than it was before, and these are the times when I thrive. I vividly remember and cherish those events. The last few months have made my world a lot bigger than it ever was before. All I can say is that I’m grateful to anyone who had a part in that, in whatever way. And for those of you who know me, you know that I keep going. So I already look forward to the next enlargement.

Kisumu – Give me your phone!

Almost at the end of my assignment, I have had my last major field trip this week and it really hit me again. Sometimes I feel like I am becoming numb, I still see the misery but it doesn’t get to me as much as it did before, but normally that does not last too long. I meet people for whom I feel empathy or great respect, and I meet people who annoy me very much. I am surprised by my own thoughts about people and situations. I now understand better why people thought I was going away for a very long time; although it is not easy, I’m glad I’ve stayed so long as to experience what I did last week.

I visited the SWAP / NICHE project in Nyanza, a province bordering Lake Victoria. SWAP stands for Safe Water and AIDS Project, and it is an organization that works with groups in the rural communities. These can be women groups, youth groups, families, HIV/AIDS patients self-help groups, etc. They all work together for a certain period to support one member, it’s a merry-go-round system. Through SWAP they get training on how to prevent illnesses such as malaria and cholera, and they can buy products such as water purifiers, mosquito nets, soap, condoms, at reduced (subsidized) rates. They are encouraged to first try these products themselves, and if they like them, they can sell them at a profit in their communities or at a local market. This enables them to generate an income.

The system is really beautiful, it is particularly nice that training on and products for different hygienic and health issues are combined, and that people can generate an income out of it themselves. In a part of the area a pilot study has been done with Sprinkles, which is a product similar to MixMe. That was the main reason for me to visit, in combination with the distribution model for the other products.

My expectation before my visit was that many people would grasp the opportunity they are getting, and would become eager sales representatives, pro-actively going door-to-door in their villages, making sure they sell as much as they possibly can. Reality is not that simple. Some of them are, and they have been able to become reasonably rich with it. The vast majority however just uses it for themselves and perhaps some family members, and that’s it. Maybe it is OK like that, it is just not what I had expected. The mosquito nets are often used for fishing rather than to prevent malaria – that is not why donors are putting in money. But a lot of success is measured as well, and behavior change takes a long time, so I am sure results will continue to improve over the years to come.

I was happy to learn that the acceptance of the micro-nutrient powder is better here than it is in Kakuma, people are much less suspicious, report very positive results with their children (more active, more energy, better appetite, less illnesses), and are paying for the product without complaining about that.

When I was visiting one of the groups, a SWAP staff member asked the group what message of Kenya they wanted me to go back home with. One after another they started to explain in very elaborate stories that since I was from the World Food Programme, I might consider them for food distribution as well. And how it was not convenient for them that they did not have light at night, so perhaps I could buy them a generator. I did not need to do that right here and now, I could also go back to Holland and raise some money there and settle things later. A water pump would be good as well, they all had access to water, but closer would be better..

Of course I understand that life is not easy for these people, their living conditions are extremely basic, and in this area about 60% lives below the poverty line with an income of less than 60 eurocents per day. But I just could not handle their attitude. How can you expect that the whole world is going to help you if you can’t even be bothered to try yourself? I remembered the training that I had before I came here: never raise false expectations. When I started talking, I amazed myself. I spoke like a strict school teacher. I explained to them that they were not eligible for food aid, since they were capable of buying their own food – which is not the case for many other people around the world – and that is why those people do get it for free and they do not. I believe I even said something like: “you are not dying here because there is no food, are you?” They all agreed that they were not. Then I explained that if I would buy them a generator, it might break down next year, and I asked them what was going to happen then? They still would not have money to repair it, and they might not find a donor crazy enough to buy them a new one. They would again be where they are today. They all agreed that that was true. Then I told them that the products they are able to sell through SWAP are heavily subsidized, so huge amounts of money from Western donors are put into that already. It allows them to build their own business, and with that they are gaining skills, skills that will always stay with them, donors or no donors. I told them they would be so much more powerful if they achieve their goals themselves than if they simply ask me for money. Some of them understood English, for the rest my little speech was translated in Swahili. Most of them were nodding yes. One lady gave a reaction: “the Bible says: ask and you shall be given. We know you are right, but you can’t blame us for trying”.

If someone tells me they are positive, this does not mean that they have a positive attitude towards life… HIV/AIDS is a real problem in Kenya, and prevalence rates are particularly high in this area, it is estimated around 20-25% here. I asked the staff why that was the case. “Because of the lake” one

woman told me. Ehm, a bit more specific please? Well, if a woman wants to sell fish, she needs a “friend”, otherwise she will not manage. And if she wants to buy fish, she also needs a “friend”. And if her husband is fishing and there is no man around the house, who is going to buy her eggs or meat? Right, she needs yet another “friend”. Things like this infuriate me. Even if women have official rights, which they do not really have much around here, the unwritten rules in the society have no respect for women in this sense. I am afraid we have a long way to go here, before such traditions will be broken.

And then we have not talked about domestic violence yet. Actually, I did not even dare to ask my colleagues about it. But I sure see a lot of people with bruises and scars that don’t look like they were obtained by accident. Women and children mainly. Orphans especially. These things break my heart.

I have gained great respect for the people at SWAP. I was lucky to have a very good translator, so I could follow much of what was going on. It was quite entertaining to me to see how they educate groups of people. Standing in front of a crowd, together with them calculating how many kilograms of shit they produce in their village, every day, every year. And how that ends up in the water. “So that you end up drinking…?” “SHIT” – the crowd yells. “No wonder you are getting diarrhea! Do you want to drink shit? Do you want your children to wash their hands with shit? Do you want to kill each other that way? Hallelujah!” “AMEN” – the crowd yells. The fact of the matter is, they do get the message across. People really seem to understand why and how to use water purification methods, mosquito nets, and micronutrient powders too.

Of course all households I visited were or claimed to be very active users of the micronutrients – I’ve seen that show before. At some point I demanded that I could pick some random houses along the way, I just didn’t trust it. So we met some very surprised people who were not pre-warned about our visit, which first of all gave me a nice different insight in their life at home (what are they doing when they do not sit around in their nicest clothes waiting for me? – they are sweeping the floor, ironing clothes, are busy with cattle and apologizing for their old clothes) and second of all, demonstrated that the knowledge of the product was better than I had expected, it had reached the random households as well. So praise for the communication campaign – or my sample was not representative, that is hard to find out.

I really enjoyed to look around in the houses. They are made of cow-dung and look better on the inside than you would expect from the outside. There are up to 6 huts together in one house area, one to cook, a lavatory (at least, for 40%, the rest shits wherever they like and all that ends up in the river, so in the drinking water, remember?), one for children to sleep, one for the second wife and her children, perhaps one for the third wife as well, etc. Inside the main houses all look the same, some low tables in the middle, surrounded by fauteuils and couches. Walls are decorated with whatever they were able to get their hands on, frequently spotted items are quotations from the bible or general religious texts, a calendar or poster of Obama (as his father is from this particular area – people here love him even more than in the rest of the country), pictures of (white) babies, advertisements for sodas, and the occasional Western movie star – I have spotted Sylvester Stallone, and Brittney Spears in bikini…

I like to think that if I would live here, I’d be one of those active sales women who worked really hard and became so successful that she can now hire others to do the work for her. However, that’s easy for me to think, because I am not from here. Chances are I would not have even made it to my age if I had been born here, and if I did manage to survive, I’d probably have AIDS and a couple of HIV affected children, and some orphans of a dead sibling to take care of too. I guess it is pretty hard to become a successful business woman on the side of all that..

Still, the attitude of just asking for things really annoys me. During one of the training sessions in the middle of nowhere, I stepped outside to receive a phone call. Just at the time when school was out. Soon some children gathered, and before I knew it I had about 150 young children in a pink and white school uniform staring at me, listening to my conversation about changing a flight, airfares, payment methods, etcetera. Great. As soon as I hung up, I got a few of the usual “how are you”s, and then a boy, I estimate him about 8 years old, slightly taller than the rest, stepped forward and said: “give me your phone!” I was shocked! If this would have been Nairobi I probably would’ve given even such a small child my phone, but the setting was not intimidating at all, pathetic would be a better word to describe it. I told him to finish school, find a job, earn a salary, and buy a phone himself. Then I went inside again.

No matter how glad I am to have had all the experiences I had over the last 10 weeks – I truly feel like a privileged person for being here – to be honest, in a way I am glad this was my last field visit of this trip. I’ve seen my fair share of poverty and misery, I’ve seen true despair and I’ve seen people who try and make things look worse than they are, hoping that the white woman will dig up some money while they can remain seated on their couches. I noticed that during the last few days it became increasingly difficult for me to deal with it all. I feel like I can use some time to digest it all. It was nice to spend the weekend in Nairobi, which has become a familiar place now, where everybody at the hotel knows my name and asks how my trip to Kisumu was, where you have a choice of restaurants where you can get really nice food, etc. Many people complain that there is nothing to do in Nairobi, but I do not agree, there are some sights and activities, the nightlife surely is great and I’m simply having a good time here. I have one more week to go, for my last meetings in Nairobi, and for a formal debrief at the WFP country office. In one week my assignment will be finalized, I am sure I will be more than ready for my holiday then!

Germ-bombs rule

The last week was a bit of an odd week. I came back from Kakuma with quite heavy mental impressions that you can have read a bit about in my previous post, and I still felt a bit weak. I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend in Nairobi, but then I got the same complaints including a fever again. I saw another doctor, and a few days later another one, and eventually after a lot of tests it turns out that I never had malaria at all! After taking a major germ-bomb antibiotic that will kill any kind of bacteria, virus or worm for that matter that was having a party in my stomach, I am glad to report that finally today I am feeling great again.

In between feeling sick, I’ve spent the last week investigating the Kenyan market a bit more, I visited WFPs activities in a town called Eldoret and saw some great work they are doing to help HIV/AIDS affected beneficiaries there, and I enjoyed having DSM colleagues from South Africa here in Nairobi. On the photo you can see a small DSM gathering we had yesterday with from left to right Damiet, Brian, Thabang and me – Georg you should’ve stayed another day! Today I shadowed Brian in his activities as key account manager for Sub-Saharan Africa and we did some work and some brainstorming on MixMe and on Kenya as well which was great.

Time is flying away and I now have only 2 weeks left on this assignment. Thanks for your great comments, they really keep me going strong!

Kakuma – “my future is so bright, I need sunglasses”

I have been doubting for a while about how honest I was going to blog about my experiences this time. Things are getting more and more extreme, which has happened gradually for me, since I have been on the road for about 2 months now, but I am not sure whether my messages will still come across the way I want them to. Up until now, you have been able to read the real thing. I am not sure whether it is wise to keep it like that, but I have decided that I will. So take a seat and prepare for a story about my trip to Kakuma.

Kakuma is a refugee camp in North West Kenya, and today it is home to about 43.000 refugees. I arrived in Lokichoggio about a week ago, in a small airplane. The area is not safe, it has UN security phase 3 which means that UN staff is not allowed to travel independently. I was picked-up by a WFP vehicle and a police escort to drive to the camp. The police escort looked rather intimidating to me, so I figured these guys would be able to keep potential bandits at bay. I felt like being in a movie again.

During the one hour drive to the camp I saw things I could only know from national geographic documentaries on tribal culture in deserted areas in Africa… The area is dry, so dry. It is inhabited by Turkanas, I saw them walking on the side of the road, with their necklaces, piercings, their typical clothing, their weapons and their cattle. I tried to take pictures of them from inside the car, not realizing I would get up close with them a few days later.

WFP has a compound close to the camp with offices and small houses for its employees. Close to this compound are two others, one for UNHCR and one for the NGOs. On my first day, I had yet another security briefing, now including more information on violence in and around the camp, and scorpions. Nice! I met the WFP staff in the afternoon and then I started to feel sick. The next day I did not visit the food distribution, rather I visited the local clinic, consisting of a bed, some chairs, 2 doctors, 1 microscope, some medicines, some ill locals who were looking at me for medical advice and many, many flies. I was diagnosed with malaria. Yes, you can still get that even if you are taking medicines against it. Luckily it was a mild form, and once I was on the right medication, the problem was fully solved in a couple of days.

After all that, I was finally was able to conduct my work on the ground. I spoke to the partners of WFP, I visited refugee households, I met the food advisory committee and I had long discussions with WFP staff. MixMe in Kakuma – now that’s a real challenge. Anyone at DSM who is interested in some really harsh training on “customer orientation” should go take a look in Kakuma. Yes, we have developed a great product that can really help refugees to become stronger and healthier and have less anemia, but if many of them refuse to take it, why is that the case? Can you imagine, refugees, I repeat, refugees, who have basically nothing, going to the food distribution standing in line to pick up their ration of food, and then just leaving the boxes of MixMe there. 70% of them did just that last week. Or worse, picking up a box, and then instead of taking it home and using it, throwing the sachets of up in the air, watch how they shine in the sun, and then walk away. You can probably imagine how it hurts me to see sachets lying around on the ground all over the camp. I am so convinced that it is good for them, and I watch them struggle to survive even, and for a short moment I felt like they do not want to accept our help. But this is not the way to look at it. Apparently the product does not serve their direct needs. All we can do is respect that, and think of ways to make it attractive to them, either in product form, communication, or anything else we can think of.

The problem and the reasons behind it are very complex and I can write on and on about it, which I will not do here. Don’t hesitate to get in touch with me directly if you’d like more information – or if you have any suggestions!

Now, my dear readers, after all this negativity, do not despair! There are also refugees who are very happy with MixMe, and just to talk to some of them and to see how grateful they are (for having more active children, for feeling healthier and energized to work, or to make love more often ) makes everything worth it. There is a group of body builders in the camp, they lift weights they have made out of steel and cement, and they like MixMe so much, that they made a show a world refugee day to advocate it to the rest of the community – without even WFP knowing about it on forehand. We need to build on positive things like that that and spread it further amongst the community.

Another great thing is that the WFP staff really believes in the product and they will not rest before it is a success. I am so impressed with their passion, their commitment and their personalities. I cannot even begin to imagine how hard it must be to work in a refugee camp. The trick, they have told me, is to empathize, not to sympathize with the refugees. I am grateful that we have these people on the ground where they are needed most.

I came to Kakuma just in time for the bicycle festivities. DSM has donated bicycles to the volunteers who are in the food advisory committee. These people have been key in the success of MixMe, and they were eager to discuss with me how they think we can improve it. They appreciate it very much that DSM actually takes the effort to send people to Kakuma and listen to them, and they clearly said that to me. And they were really happy with the bikes!

Just before I visited some households I read Brams comment on my blog, asking about children and what their dreams are. It stayed with me, and in one of the families we visited, the 8 year old son was at home, he had malaria (!) and felt too weak to go to school that day. He was just sitting beside his mother, listening to our conversation on MixMe. His mother did like the product, however the family took it only took it a few times per week, because it increased their appetite and there is not enough food available. After we had finished our MixMe talk, I asked him what his dream for the future was. He lit up and shared with us that he wanted to become a pilot. He went on about that for a while, and then indicated that being a teacher could be OK too, as long as he could get an education he would be able to manage, actually, he concluded “I just want to get out of this place”. During his story his mother was looking at him the way mothers look at their children, with a mild smile and eyes that are lit-up with love and pride. Once he finished, she started to cry. If only she would have enough food to take care of her family… Today she had food, it was recently distributed, but after 12 days, when all the food is gone and there are 2 days left before the next distribution…

When walking around in the camp, it is hard to imagine that these people have all fled their countries because of war and violence, they all have a background like that. Some of them have requests that I cannot do anything with. An old man came up to me, told me that all his friends had been able to move to Australia and that he wanted to go there as well. He had pains in his chest, and he grabbed my hand to examine his chest. Just because I’m white does not mean I am a doctor!

And then there was a cat walking around in one of the huts of a household we visited. A cat that looked healthier than the average refugee – it actually looked a lot like the cat we had at home when I grew up. I asked the women if she fed it – yes she did. What did she feed him? Meat, she told me. Meat?! How often? Once a month, she told me quickly, when the family ate meat. Other than that, the cat got porridge. WFP only distributes rice, split peas, salt sugar, corn soy blend, and oil. If refugees want to eat anything else they need to barter their food, so they can get meat or other things from the village or even from shops in the camp, but this means less kilocalories of their other food. And then she is feeding a cat, with meat even?! I just could not understand that.

The host community, the Turkanas are everywhere in the camp, and they do not want to be photographed. In fact, they reacted pretty hostile when I did try to photograph them. They know that white people just love their looks, and they probably get photographed all the time by us. The are very poor, and more food-insecure that the refugees, who at least get the food distribution. Many of them work for the refugees (e.g. repairing clothes,

selling chicken), and get paid in food. WFP has several projects to help the hostcommunity as well, and I visited a few of them. There are water pumps or dams that keep water from the rains longer so that the land can get more fertile. This is done as a token of appreciation to the host community, and to increase their acceptance of the camp on their grounds. They can work for WFP to help build these assets for their communities, and they get paid in food if they do so.

When we went out to look at these projects, I got the chance to talk with some of them, without them being angry all the time. They can be pretty intimidating, and men have a round knife around their wrists – once I realized what that thing was and what it was used for, they became even more so. It is hard to imagine what life is like for them. There is no money to allow for all children to go to school, so you make a strategic selection of which ones go and which ones stay at home. One girl was pointed out to me, and I was told she was too pretty to go to school. She could sell livestock at the market later. If the rains do not come one year, you can lose everything they have. You are only a man if you steal cattle from another community, so your cattle can get stolen all the time. These people constantly live on the edge. Once I understood that, I think it is no wonder they yell at me for taking their photo. And when we visited their villages, looked at their projects, and showed an interest in them, they were very nice. They even invited me to dance with them!

As you can see, I can go on and on about this. I will leave you with this for now, and will keep you posted on more adventures to come. This weekend I will explore Nairobi further with my DSM colleague Damiet Koenders, who is here for a WFP assignment as well. You can read her story on http://damietkoenders.whereareyou.net.

Kenya – smiles and fences

I felt like a whole new person, as if I had been on a short energizing break, when I left South Africa. Both Saskia and Jane had taken care of me in a wonderful way – I stayed at their houses, met their family and friends, was cooked wonderful meals for, and they just let me sleep sleep and sleep. I popped by DSM in Johannesburg, and was sparked by the passion and energy of Ronnie. With people like him, things must work out in Africa!

When I arrived in Kenya, I was so happy to hear music at the airport. What a different world, all those smiling people! I had one day to settle in because I arrived in the weekend, which I used to visit some tourist attractions, the house of Karen Blixen (better known via Meryl Streep in Out of Africa – thanks for the tip Bruno!) and a giraffe place, where you could actually feed these beautiful species.

Now that I have started work in Nairobi, it amazes me how much I have learned in my 5 weeks in Bangladesh. This week, I’ve been visiting the same stakeholders in a different country – the government, ministry of health, the micronutrient initiative, UNICEF, UNHCR, a social marketing company, a food company. Some things are different, many things are the same. To the designers of my assignment: it definitely made sense to do the same research in two countries!

So far Nairobi has been good to me. People call it “Nairobbery”; personal security seems to be an issue here, so I am careful and I listen to the instructions I am getting. All houses, hotels, offices are protected with fences and security guards. I did not take many photos yet, frankly because I am still a bit hesitant to pull out my big digital SRL camera when I’m in town. Both my hotel and the UN compound are really beautifully set up, and most of my meetings are in the posh areas of town. Sometimes it is hard to believe that 60% of this city lives in urban slums – until I drive by one of those and look at the shabby houses packed together as far as my eyes can see.

The colonial history can still be felt in Nairobi. I often can’t help but feeling bad for how the whites have treated the Kenyans in the past. No wonder many of them are still suspicious.

Tomorrow I take an early flight to Kakuma, I will be spending one week in this refugee camp. There is a MixMe distribution going on there, a wonderful initiative, since micronutrient deficiency levels are tremendous. But real life is not always as beautiful as the concepts we sketch. Unfortunately the acceptance by the refugees in the camp is rather low and decreasing. I look forward to learn more about what is going on there, and more importantly, why. I’ll let you know how it was next week.

Moving on from Bangladesh to South Africa

I left Dhaka at my favorite time of the day, the end of the afternoon, when the streets look softer than they do during the day, and less intimidating than during the night. The light is so beautiful at that time of the day. It surprises me that only a few people notice this. The beauty of Bangladesh is in the little things, said one of my colleagues, and she is right. Sometimes I spot a bright flower in the middle of a street that looks like garbage, or I notice how beautiful the decoration of the rickshaws is. Things like that make my day here.

I have spent my last work days in Dhaka paying some last visits to Grameen bank and the Alive and Thrive initiative, and other than that I’ve been finishing up my report, and I have presented my findings. I am glad to see that my recommendations are heard, recognized, and picked-up by the team. The goodbyes were heartwarming.

In the weekend I enjoyed Dhaka, the town that is so strange to me, but yet has become so familiar. I visited the urban slums with a friend who works there, and was hit with the sight of extreme poverty again. I wonder if I could ever get used to that, and how long it would take for that to happen. What a contrast with the party at the Westin hotel, a five star establishment where the staff is actually capable of throwing a well-organized, wonderful party.

Mixed feelings all over again. Dhaka beggars are very well-informed on the party scene in town. It is so strange to walk out of the beautiful venue, after having danced the night away with the expats and the rich and famous of Bangladesh, and then seeing.. A head with a body – no arms, no legs. And a group of children, age between 5 and 8. All asking for just a little bit of money. You know that if you give it, it will go straight to their gangs. I definitely do not want to support this system, but I do feel very bad for them.

Mixed feelings is becoming a theme. When I left, I felt many things at the same time. I was a bit relieved even, to get out of there, but sad to leave the place as well. I had the feeling that I was deserting Bangladesh in a way. People who have been to Bangladesh recognize the feeling, relief seems easy (the situation is so bad – anything will help) and difficult (there are so many to be helped – where to start) at the same time. I want to help everybody and at the same time I know that that is impossible. I feel I should do whatever is in my power to support them, but I also realize my idealism may fade away faster than I can imagine now once I’m back home.

I am leaving Bangladesh with bittersweet memories. I will remember the children and the mothers, the rickshaws and the traffic. The houses, small shops and the beggars. The people at WFP and other “do-good-ers” and the work they are doing. The mixed feelings above all. It has made a lasting impression on me.

I have been typing the above in the air between Johannesburg and Durban. At that point I had spent the last 24 hours making a huge transition, from shabby Dhaka to luxurious shopping haven Dubai (although I do look at it a bit different when coming straight from Dhaka – I still enjoy looking at the work of top designers in their beautiful outlets), starting off in an airplane with only Bangladeshi men and me (me being the in-flight entertainment), now sitting in a plane that could hardly look more mixed in gender, race, age, etc. It is winter in Africa, I saw men wearing woolen gloves! When boarding in Johannesburg, I got all exited about the weather, it is sunny and around 25 degrees I think. What a relief from the humidity and 40 degrees in Dhaka. And people speak funny – it sounds very similar to Dutch but it is hard for me to understand.

My first time in Africa, I’ve been dreaming about the continent since I was a little girl. I am visiting Saskia de Pee, my supervisor from WFP here. She has been a great host, and since she has invited me to stay at her house, for the last couple of days I have been a part of her work and family life. I am enjoying it big time! I’ve spent five weeks feeling rushed, now I finally have some time to digest the knowledge I have gained and to build on it. We have been brainstorming on how WFP and DSM could proceed. Besides that, it is really nice to be in a house again rather than in a hotel, and especially in Saskias house, as it is absolutely beautiful.

Yesterday, Saskia took me out to a game reserve. We spotted hippos, rhinos, giraffes, impala, wildebeests, ostrich and others. It was my first safari, and my expectation was that it would take forever to spot a cool animal, but it was really easy – and it was soooo beautiful! Our brainstorm became much more creative during and after spending this time outdoors, and I think we’re onto something here. I’ll keep you posted!

Refugee Camp Blues

I have visited the Nayapara refugee camp and I do not think I will ever forget this experience.

Picture this: You have left your home country Birma 17 years ago, because you belong to the Rohingya people that were and are not safe there. You crossed a river, to go to a safer place that you could watch from the shores: Bangladesh. Ever since you have been in a refugee camp. You are not allowed to work. You have nowhere to go. And you are one of the 30.000 lucky ones who are official refugees. Because there are about 100.000 Rohingya in total in the area, and the ones outside the camps do not get food and other assistance, and live in even smaller and shabbier houses.

The majority of the population of the camp are children. They were born in the camp and do not know anything else. Since a few months, the Government of Bangladesh, who hosts the camps, is allowing the children to go to school (and they get our biscuits if they do!), so that is a big improvement.

I do not have words to describe it. In the villages, people are poor, living conditions are extremely basic. But in the camps, people have similar but bigger huts, which they share with many families. So a family of 5 or 6 has 2-3 square meters to live on. Just one room. No bathroom, nothing. And the neighbors are in the same building, behind a thin mat, there must be more than 10 families in one building.

I can not imagine what I would feel like if I would live there. I guess I was expecting a lot of depressed people. But the refugees seem to bear their fate with dignity. Although there is nothing to do really, they do walk around, gather, have a chat. There are some shops, which have come up recently because they are tolerated now. Some people make soap or sew clothes. I saw some children playing marbles (knikkeren), but I could not take a photo of it, because the kids are foreigner crazy (as soon as they spot us they’ll run up to us and follow us) and camera crazy (as soon as they see a camera they go out of their mind, all want to be in the picture, and then all want to see the picture on the digital display ) 

Some kids speak English fairly well, and they all like to chat. They introduce themselves, ask where I am from, why I am visiting the camp, what my name is, if I’ll come back. And then there was this one, super-confronting, do-not-know-the-answer, painful and awkward question from a small kid. He had to repeat it three times before I understood what he was asking. He asked: “Madam, what is your ultimate objective?”. I was totally flabbergasted, a hundred potential answers came up in my mind and would have sounded either too ridiculous or would have given him false promises, so in the end I couldn’t give him a better answer than “that is a very good question”. He definitely gave me something to think about…

The worst part was the malnourished children part. The severe malnourished are in the hospital, the moderately malnourished go to day-care where they get suitable food. The mothers are sitting around, feeding their babies. They also get education on what is good nutrition for their baby, and they get help and counseling for the problems they may be facing (violence, etc).

I ate porridge with MixMe mixed into it, together with the pregnant and lactating women. They get it for lunch every day. It tasted a lot like peanut butter. It does not taste bad, but it’s not very exiting either. It is a supplement to their normal food: rice, pulse, vegetable oil, sugar, blended food and salt. I now better understand why these women ask for real fruit and vegetables rather than a sachet with powder. I am still glad though, that trough these sachets, they are at least getting the micronutrients they need.

One thing that is for sure is that I have a lot of respect for the people who work in the camps, trying to help those who need it so much. The head of the sub-office in Coxs Bazar, Lindy, is an Australian woman of my age. What a different world to work in, what a different level of involvement, impact. And how tough. I was shown around by the nutrition program manager of Action 

Contre la Faim, Naser, who was giving me loads of useful information and in the meantime he was running around, picking up kids, telling them to wash their hands, to not drink from the ground, telling a guy to carry only one bag and not two, etc. These people are a real inspiration to me.

I have felt a bit strange ever since my visit. The whole situation is so hopeless. People are stuck there. They cannot really enter Bangladesh, and they cannot go back either. Still they seem so strong (mentally), and weak (physically) at the same time. It’s amazing. I feel like I should cry about it (because at home I could cry when watching a movie) but I can’t. Maybe that will come later, maybe not.

I have felt a bit ill for a few days (nothing serious – don’t worry – it’s a lot better already – people are taking good care of me here), and all I can think about is what the refugees must feel when being ill (and they were all complaining about diarrhea and vomiting – exactly my symptoms) and how shitty that must be in the camp.

I do not want to sound like I know it all now – because I don’t – but this really puts things into perspective, and I think I will need some time to digest it.