African Residency at One-Year Mark: a Summary

Today, it is precisely one year since the author first stepped off the plane in the little town of Iringa, Tanzania for his interview at the organization where he currently works.  The sentiment at that time has been one of surprise, not simply for a land that he has never stepped into as a full-time resident, but also one of superficial conviction that the land is plagued by some sort of social disease, one that has and continue to retard real economic developments that can pull people out of endless poverty.  The thought at that time was one of genuine excitement, a realization that something can be done to change people's lives.

That conviction, in some ways, is bound to evolve as one continue to live in the midst of all that poverty.  It is not that the feeling of a NGO's presence in the area being useful and worthy has disappeared.  The fact that external funds flow into a cash-strapped local economy is destined to make a difference even if the money is spent inefficiently.  But increasingly, one's observation becomes more granular as the complexities of issues to be resolved become clearer.  "To make a difference" is no longer a fuzzy generalistic concept that correlates with all-round improvements in people's livelihoods.

Instead, there is recognition that different issues require different approaches, and most approaches is not as simple to tackle as just throwing more money and foreign expertise at.  Indeed, if anything, the lack of money is often not the problem, but the inefficient distribution of it to create massive inequality between the "haves" and "have-nots."  Until the "haves," with almost monopolistic access to capital, resources, and knowledge, are convinced that there are benefits to be had by sharing those access to millions of underemployed subsistence farmers languishing on the edge of starvation, NGOs cannot make a real difference.

If there is anything that genuinely surprised the author over the span of the previous year here, it is the fact that NGOs like the one he works have so little leverage over behavior of the local government.  On paper, this simply cannot be the case.  This is a country where reportedly more than 70% of government budget come from foreign donors.  Yet, in previous dealings with government, the experience has always been either that of annoying red tape, inefficient delays, ego-fueled rants, or most commonly, deliberate neglect.  Instead of warm welcomes, NGOs become targets of investigations accompanied by threats of sudden closure.

The fact that these "annoying" NGOs are the only sources of formal, salaried jobs for locals in rural towns dominated by farming and informal "small businesses" only cement the foreigner's impression that the local government simply do not care about economic development in a holistic way.  Instead, government officials are much keener in spending money where it is beneficial for themselves and visible in monumental ways, glancing over any worries that such spendings do not generate income over time, and only serve to add to unsustainable piles of foreign debt.

But not all surprises of the past year have been negative in nature.  One of the more positive ones have been witnessing for firsthand how locals can have so much fun with so little physical and commercial infrastructure.  It is genuine piece of learning for those in the developed world that require sleek restaurants, bars, and clubs to even come close to enjoying themselves.  Yes, obviously the locals have no choice in this matter, and may indeed enjoy themselves more if they had the same access to materialistically spotless venues for entertainment, yet nonetheless their sense of "simple fun" in "adversity" is truly worthy of global mimicking.

And often it is upon seeing such "simple fun" that the author start to understand why some people from the developed world give up everything to live in this impoverished middle-of-nowhere for their entire careers.  What they see here is a simpler time of the past in their home countries, where social development has not been so centered on profiteering off endless materialistic inventions.  To put it rather harshly, they are escaping the reality of that materialistic land for a "purer" life in Africa.  While the author can absolutely not relate to such sentiment, he can recognize and respect it for being real and desirable.

Still, it remains problematic just how the materialistic-averse foreigner attempts to instill the same value upon the locals.  Materialism is most attractive for the poorest.  And this point cannot be clearer when locals burn through months of wages and even resort to stealing in order to get their hands on the best smartphones available in the local market.  Looking forward to the latter half of his African residency, the author wants to respect that more than anything else.  The African no longer wants to be poor.  And if the foreigner fails to give him hopes that he can become rich one day, then the foreigner has failed in his reason to be here.