Final Thoughts

The butcher - sans refrigeration

As my first (God willing not the last) African trip comes to a close, I’d like to open the floodgates and finally get philosophical.  Most of this blog has been authored in small spurts along dusty rural roads, or in ten-minute breaks between meetings, or in primary school classrooms, surrounded by excited travelers and students.  It has been difficult to maintain cohesive, contemplative thought in that hectic, roller-coaster environment.  Also, in a supreme effort to avoid preachiness, I have abstained for the most part from discussions of spirituality or morality.  Those who know me well may understand that was a difficult task.  I apologize for the rants that follow and for those of you who aren't into philosophical discussion, I've posted several pretty pictures.  Now for blessed release.

A cow-dung hut in the Masai

I'm going to start by discussing the four main objections to getting involved in humanitarian work. I've encountered all these objections in Canada, and I have wrestled with them myself over the years.  After that, I am going to soundly refute each objection, using A Better World’s model.  Next, after dealing with the negatives, I am going to expound upon the positives.  I will attempt to convince you, the reader, to get involved to some extent, knowing how fulfilling, adventurous, and exciting this work is.  Finally I shall sum up and conclude this blog.

First, I’d like to address the issue of aid.  For the purposes of this discussion, I’ll define aid as the distribution of water, food, medicine, infrastructure to a suffering population with funds provided by a wealthy population.  Essentially, aid is a hand-out, a gift.  The failure of aid to raise Africa out of its predicament is a oft-raised objection to humanitarian effort.

Since the collapse of colonialism, literally billions of dollars of aid have flowed into this continent from rich countries around the world.  I think the collective heart behind this giving has been generally genuine, if a little naive.  Unfortunately, the money has had very little big-picture, positive effect.  Many people here remain at the mercy of the weather: one crop failure means hunger and poverty.  Life expectancy is still dropping.  The numbers of orphaned or street children is still rising.  I think that there is a general consensus that aid (at least its traditional model) has failed.  That failure is due to a number of complex factors, but one of the most disheartening effects is to propagate the strong cynicism I have so often encountered among friends and colleagues in Canada and the US.  Despite a flood of dollars into Africa, conditions just don’t seem to change, so people lose hope at best and, at worse, condemn the whole continent to receiving its just rewards.

Touring a hut village in Lodwar

The problem with aid is that it fails to address the culture of a place, it fails to invest in its people.  It is a top-down approach.  It teaches nothing, learns nothing.  Aid is absolutely essential during emergencies - people who are starving, displaced, oppressed, and/or sick need immediate help in the form of a hand-out.  This is what the Red Cross and Salvation Army are so good at.  Aid is undeniably necessary and righteous during situations like the drought in Ethiopia, the earthquake in Haiti, the tsunami in Indonesia, the hurricane in Louisiana.  It is at these times that people are in the greatest day-to-day need and when others are most motivated to give.  However, as a model, aid is not sustainable; in fact, if it remains unchecked, aid ultimately has a profoundly negative effect on a nation.  Continuous aid creates a culture of entitlement.  It destroys innovation.  It convinces the population that they are incapable of solving their own problems.  It keeps the people alive, but does not give life.  

One of the wells that started the
project in Lodwar

A common motif of this trip was the open hand, outstretched in petition.  People here associate mzungus with gifts, handouts, money, toys, candy.  From the most remote tribal village to the thriving metropolis of Nairobi, hands were out.  Sometimes it felt right and good to give, like handing out lunch boxes to children along the road to the Masai Mara, or watching orphans play with their new toys.  Sometimes it felt wrong, like watching, heart in throat, as roadside kids ran dangerously close to the wheels of the moving van begging “sweet, sweet”, or finally opening the window in Nairobi traffic to hand 500 shillings to a woman, obviously better off than most of the rural families we’d visited, who banged on the glass for five minutes.  These are the results of years of aid.  

The second issue, after the failure of aid, often raised as an objection to humanitarian effort by westerners, is corruption.  I have heard the argument a thousand times: money given to humanitarian causes in developing nations only pads the pockets of the government officials.  Not only are the governments able to skim from the donation money and goods coming in, but it can be argued that they have a vested interest in making sure as little help gets to the population as possible - an uneducated, poor nation is easier to govern and control.  We all know that Africa has seen far more of her fair share of corruption and bad governance.

While here, I witnessed hard evidence supporting this objection too: containers of donated clothing from America, sold to the highest bidder in a strange caricature of Storage Wars, the wholesale clothing distributed throughout the nation and sold at a profit; store shelves stocked with Unicef provisions, ‘Not For Sale’ stamped across the packaging; massive, beautiful estates, each the country home for some official or politician, walled off from the sea of shanties around it; a rural clinic, built by USAid, trying to function with no electricity because the right bureaucrat at Kenya Power had not yet been paid off.  Evidence of corruption is common and always lurks just below the surface of events in Kenya, which is generally hailed as a progressive African state in regards to government accountability.  

Mmmmm.

Corruption and it’s evil cousin, cronyism, have been and continue to be rampant diseases that form a direct obstacle to development in Kenya.  The inefficiencies of ego are so pervasive that action of any sort from the various levels of government moves at a blindingly slow pace.  We complain about bureaucracy in Canada; we don’t know what that really is.  

Massive British production farm
juxtaposed with a hand-cultivated plot
in the ditch by the highway

I spoke at length to the former CEO of Kenyan Airways about his battles with the government in the 1990s.  His goal: to wrestle control of the national airline away from the handful of top politicians who used it solely as their personal plaything.  At that time, Kenyan Airways had more offices in cities across the world than most western airlines!  It was a great way for politicians to get their spoiled kids posh job postings in New York, Paris, or Hong Kong.  Being that it was a national airline, the politicians also loved being able to commandeer a plane for a family vacation or a campaign stop.  Never mind that the airline was costing the Kenyan taxpayers, most of whom would never see the inside of a plane, millions of shillings in loss year after year.  Never mind that 80 percent of the flights were delayed, often for more than 24 hours.  Never mind that the debt load that Kenyan Airways was incurring annually, all on its own, was actually having an effect on the currency exchange rate.  This is just one industry of thousands that suffers from (I’ll repeat the phrase, because I like it, and it is so appropriate) the inefficiencies of ego.  Corruption is pervasive here; it could almost be classified as another industry.**

Croc outside our tent at Fig Tree Camp

The third objection to humanitarian work around the world is directed at the humanitarian organizations themselves.  Donors worry that too many of their dollars are going towards glossy catalogues, expensive TV spots, celebrity endorsements, bloated administration, costly tracking software.  Objectors look at humanitarian relief like it’s a business, and with many NGOs, it is.  There are some cases where an organization spends more of a donor’s dollar on self-promotion than on operations in the field.  That is wrong.  

(A slight aside: one of the most annoying goals of some modern NGOs is to “raise awareness” of an issue, which to me just means they’re raising money for their own advertising campaigns.  I think there are already too many organizations raising awareness and too few raising the standard of life.  We’re bloody aware already.)

One of the orphans at Segera Mission

There is a secondary level to this misguided allocation of donated funds.  Once the money hits the field, many humanitarian organizations have trouble managing its use properly.  Again similar to a business, a division of the NGO is given an annual budget and they have to spend it on the ground.  That can quickly lead to inefficient use of the money, or projects that are not sensitive to the needs of an area.  The field representatives scramble to find opportunities, initiate construction, spend their entire allocation, and report, all in time for next year’s budget.  The resulting work is impersonal at best, haphazard and useless at worst.  

Again, I witnessed evidence of the validity of this objection firsthand during the trip.  There were two new buildings at one of the schools we visited, constructed during the last year by a large, well-known humanitarian organization.  The buildings, a classroom and a clinic, were well-constructed, but were arranged haphazardly on the site.  The construction took no heed of the grand site plan that had been tabled for the school.  When we asked the headteacher about them, we were disheartened to learn that the large NGO had arrived one day, casually observed the site, picked a spot and began construction.  They didn’t even speak to him, seek out community leaders, or consult any of the locals to assess the needs there.  Construction was completed, the doors were locked and the crew left, all without speaking to the head teacher of the school for which the classrooms had been built.  The classrooms were useless without desks, and the clinic was useless without medical supplies.  But the donors money had been spent helping children in the third world.  It amazes me that little old Carpet Colour Centre in Red Deer, Alberta, a financial gnat in comparison to this giant organization, needed to come in to provide the necessary equipment and supplies to get the classrooms operational.   

Michelle and one of the kids at St Anne's Orphanage

The fourth objection is directed exclusively at international humanitarian work.  This objection probably carries the most weight in my mind.  It states, truthfully, that there are many pressing problems at home - pockets of poverty, abuse, addiction, inequality - that need to be addressed.  Central Alberta (let alone Vancouver’s East Hastings) is home to thousands of lost, broken, hurting people that need help, albeit with a different set of problems.  To classify those Canadian problems in a higher order, and therefore lower priority, than the problems faced by Kenya is perhaps not fair.  We are on shaky ground if we try to rate human suffering on some empirical scale.  After all, rates of suicide, depression, and drug addiction are much higher in Canada that in Kenya.  Perhaps our wealth hasn't bought us happiness after all.  

Evidence to support this argument was plentiful in Kenya.  People, some literally dirt poor, were warm, hospitable, and caring.  In Kenya, there is a strong sense of community and family.  You always have the sense that people have each others’ backs.  There was also a general feeling  among Kenyans that whatever was provided for them day-to-day by God was good enough.  People seemed content with what they had, even if it was only a little.  There wasn’t this driving, individualistic need to compete with one’s peers to obtain the most wealth, at least not to the extent we encounter in Canada.  (Canada, by contrast, pales to the US in terms of the individual’s perceived right to wealth).  Kenyans are dealing with threatening externals - disease, hunger, unrest; Canadians are dealing with internals - depression, addiction, isolation.  In many ways, the external threats are easier to neutralize, and it could easily be argued that mission work abroad is a bit of a cop-out from the more difficult problems faced at home.

Now comes the refutation of these objections to international humanitarian work.  Obviously, I believe strongly in this work as a catalyst for positive change in our world - abroad and at home.  For those who have not travelled on humanitarian grounds, I’ve shown the strongest impressions from this trip, personally witnessed, justifying each objection.  I’ve presented the best evidence and reasoning I’ve encountered against getting involved and, since I want you to get involved, I will explain why I think each objection is bogus.

The group touring EAMO

Our first objection - the failure of aid - is perfectly valid, and hard to refute; however, it is ultimately a red herring.  As we’ve determined, aid, in the form of a hand-out, has not only failed, but in some ways moved Africa backwards.  The American Hercules aircraft flying over Dadaab refugee camp (the largest refugee camp on planet earth), dropping thousands of containers of food, medicine, mosquito nets, and clothing is a perfect picture of what aid represents: hands-off, top-down help from a distance.  It is also the way that most of us in Canada prefer to deal with the issue.  Watch a video, read the news, cut a cheque, and move on.  Good in an emergency, but absolutely not sustainable.  So that begs the question: what, ultimately, is sustainable?  

Mutual education is sustainable.  It is the key to real progress.  Once a person’s primary needs are met (which aid can accomplish in times of crisis), they need to take steps to better themselves and their community so that the crisis does not occur again.  They need to learn how to build for themselves a sustainable future.  Teach a man to fish sort of stuff.  How is that accomplished?  With face-to-face interaction.  We need to show our fellow human beings that we care enough about them that we are willing to show them what we know.  We need to learn their names.  We need to visit their homes.  We need to understand their plight, and all it’s complex layers, on a personal level.  We cannot rely on the news or a commercial showing fly-ridden, emaciated children to give us an accurate picture.  I can assure you that neither source of information is at all accurate.  How can an infommercial or a magazine article sum up the nuances of a culture and offer a legitimate break in the cycle of poverty?  The reality is that as Canadians, we have the answers to many of the problems that Kenyans face.  Our society has solved them and details of the solutions have become so ubiquitous that we forget that there was ever a problem - until we visit, firsthand, a society that has not yet solved them.  At that point, two wonderful, soul-shocking events take place: on a gut level, we realize how good we have it at home, and we become agents for positive change in the society that needs our help.

This is not aid.  This is not a hand-out.  This is a help-up, from one community to another.  A Better World’s focus on educational infrastructure bucks the concept of aid.  Change will happen; Kenyans desperately want change, they just need to be shown how.  How to build roads to transport crops; how to prevent waterborne disease; how to enable women, who, in so many cases, are a people’s largest untapped resource and best chance for a better future; how to divert water to prevent erosion under foundations; how to conduct fair elections; how to create an environment in which small business can thrive; how to build a structure of checks and balances into the political system; how to teach children the times tables; how to make a sturdy table with hand tools; how to irrigate fields during droughts; how to attract tourism dollars, how to control the size of their families.  In all these practical considerations and more, we Canadians have a lot to give.  Each of us, individually, have God-given gifts waiting to be shared.  We daily enjoy the fruits of others: the men and women who came before us built one of the most stable, life-giving societies in history.  A society in which these individual gifts can flourish and mature.  With all my heart I believe we, in turn, need to share these gifts with those who haven’t been afforded the same safe environment in which to develop their personal gifts.  Something profound happens in our hearts when we do.

Sure, aid is failing.  But this isn’t aid.  This is face-to-face, human-to-human, hand-in-hand help in the form of education.

Me and my buddy Greg at EAMO

A Better World’s approach to humanitarianism also side-steps the second objection - corruption - that comes up so often in discussions of the developing world.  When you follow your dollar personally, there is a strong system of accountability that fights the effects of corruption.  Carpet Colour Centre’s donations to A Better World really exist in name only.  A Better World is a conduit to allow the funds to flow directly through to the contractors and schools in Kenya.  ABW consists of a series of contacts and systems in Kenya and other countries around the world, and that is really it.  In business terms, A Better World is 100% goodwill.  As I’ve stated earlier in the blog, it is run by volunteers.  Rick has been personally involved in each project we’ve funded, almost from the beginning.  The primary purpose of Don and Glenna’s trip was to inspect and commission the results of their wedding-gift donation.  The Rotary Club of Lacombe came along to make sure their dollars were spent wisely.  When we give to A Better World, we search out the need, we pick the project, we hire the contractor, we request status updates, and we inspect the final work on the ground to make sure it is acceptable.  In a round-about way, we act as the customer on behalf of the community.  

This system, including the hand-delivery of donated funds and goods, flies under the radar of government.  Sure, there is the necessary paper-work to be filled out when constructing a new school, and sometimes ABW must deal with bloated beaurocracy in getting new projects approved.  But the nature of the donations - person-to-person - does not allow corruption a strong foothold.  Writing a cheque is only a small part of the work: discovering ways to help, formulating an action plan, and following the dollars is the major part of the effort.  I can’t think of a system with more built-in accountability than that.  

For many of the same reasons, the third objection - abundant overhead in typical humanitarian organizations - is a non-issue with A Better World.  As I have stated, every participant on this trip paid his or her way.  Every donor (and every traveller on this trip ended up a donor) did his or her own investigative work with help from Eric and others: they discovered the need, crunched the numbers, and committed to the donation.  For example, when we discovered that the Early Childhood Development teachers in Lodwar had been working for free while the parents figured out how to come up with their monthly salary, two couples (including a retired kindergarten teacher) on the trip decided that they could help by paying the wages of these teachers for a full two years.  When Rob from Agri-trend saw that the garden at Male was being cultivated inefficiently by hand, he found a tractor for hire to get the job done for them.  Having seen the need first-hand, Rick and Rob also agreed to split the satellite internet installation at Segera Mission in order to get them connected to the rest of the world.  When I met James, who had finished Secondary school at Daaba, but didn't have the funds to pay for university, I contacted the university and provided a scholarship so he could earn a Bachelor Degree in Community Development.  This is how humanitarianism works best: on the ground, donor-to-recipient, hand-to-hand.  No overhead.  No administrative structure.  When you give, 100% of your donation ends up on the ground; but your money is not the focus - it is your time and effort in seeing the donation through.  You physically follow the money and see the impact it makes first-hand.  Trust me, it is amazing!

The fourth and final objection we discussed was the insistence that there is enough trouble at home; that taking an expensive trip overseas for humanitarian work is wasteful and a little self-serving.  If, instead of purchasing plane tickets, hotel-stays, and ground transportation, we donated that money, we could theoretically have a much bigger impact.  Why not find and address needs in our own country?  After all, we needn't look far to find people who need help in Central Alberta.

There is a reason I left this discussion for last.  The explanation brings it all home for me.  I believe that the mission, the travel, the interactions with other cultures, the examinations of problems foreign to our experience, the interactions with people on the other side of the world, it all has a profound purpose.  Notwithstanding the benefits I've already mentioned: personally overseeing donation results, ensuring on-the-ground accountability, and locating areas of need individually, there is a beautiful, life-giving benefit to mission travel.  We learn from them.  

Organizing the group in Lodwar

Yes, there is much we Canadians can show them in the way of creating a functional society and reducing hardship and poverty.  We have got a lot of things figured out.  But not everything.  Somewhere along the way, we lost the kind of community Kenyans enjoy everyday, the contentedness with life, the appreciation for everyday blessings, the faith that, come what may, God will provide.  Hakuna Matata.  Faith enough to put aside the worries of the day and just live, for life’s sake.  And an integral, visceral understanding that externalities do not create happiness: not money, not fame, not substance, not recognition.  And although I have a lot to learn, when I reflect on this, I realize that many of our societal ills, the things Canadians need help with, fall right into the sights of this philosophy.  We travel so that we can learn, and so that we can make Canada a better place too.

Could we really have a bigger impact by forgoing the trip and its expenses, and cutting a larger cheque as a result?  No way.  There is no substitution for the face-to-face connection with the people we are aiming to serve.  The encouragement, laughter, empathy, and love we can show cannot be expressed with money.  The truths about community, family, contentedness, love that we can learn from our brothers and sisters in the developing world are so incredibly valuable to us, it is worth the exchange.  There is no substitution for the intimate familiarity with the people and the culture, its triumphs and its faults, that we gain through travel.  We cannot truly understand the needs to be met without seeing them first-hand.  I certainly didn't.

Pat and Glenna in a classroom in Lodwar

But I suppose the bottom line is this.  I believe hearts are not broken by societal problems, government corruption, or statistics on poverty.  Hearts are broken when we meet someone who is in real need, and we have the means to meet that need.  We can debate theology, or politics, but the fact remains that we are built to help our friends.  It’s a God-given purpose.

So I would strongly encourage you to consider getting involved with A Better World.  There are many countries that they are involved with now, and many worthy causes.  I don’t believe there is such a compelling charity around.  The travel is amazing.  You get to see the fruits of your charitable giving first-hand.  You get to travel with a group of people who all have a strong vested interest in the region and who, excited about giving, have all passed the ‘heart of gold’ standard.  You get to see the country as it really is, not behind a tourism bureau’s veil.  You get to discover suddenly that you have gifts, and that you yourself can offer something.  There’s laughter, adventure, friendship, and the pervasive, wonderful feeling that it’s all to help those who need it.  It’s a little bit of missionary work, anthropology, construction, agricultural science, education, healthcare, and wildlife photography all rolled into one fantastic experience.  It truly is life-changing.

Construction on the new school at Segera Mission

So in conclusion, as I sat in an Amsterdam cafe, back in the ‘first world’, watching a group of 30-somethings get high at eight o'clock in the morning on a Sunday, I reflected on this whole exercise - travelling to another country, more or less unfamiliar with the cultures, history, environment, in an attempt to learn and to help - and I started to raise the questions we've examined.  Who am I to critique another culture’s successes and failures?  What kind of authority do I wield that I think I can walk into a foreign land expecting to make a positive change?  Is it pure naivete that I think I can make a difference?  I come from a land and culture rife with it’s own immense problems, and the biases created by that culture come with me.  How can I expect to remain objective?  Why not put my efforts toward some of those domestic problems?  Is this just arrogance, as if I had a hand in creating the wealth and opportunity that exists in Canada?  As if I understand the barriers to development?  As if I can distinguish productive development from destructive?  As if my ideas on how a society should be run are at some higher level?  Deep down, do I just wish that Kenya would be like Canada?

The answer is really yes and no.  

I think that Kenyans can learn from Canadians.  Canada has some of the world’s highest metrics in terms of life expectancy, infant mortality, women’s equality, rule of law, democratic process, labour law, and religious freedom.  We have great schools, great roads, great agricultural systems, great law enforcement.  There are societal functions that Canada excels at, functions that all of humanity can benefit from.  It is our responsibility to discern what those functions are, to share them with the areas of the world lacking them, while at the same time trying to avoid passing on aspects of our society that are not redeeming.

Rick leaving Africa

But, as I've stated, the mutual learning bit is the key.  As tempting as it may be, we cannot allow ourselves to simply download our expectations, biases, belief-systems, and cultural norms onto another culture, like imperialists.  History has proven how damaging that approach can be; in fact, Africa’s current heartache is due, at least in part, to this way of thinking.  The opposite approach - letting a hurting country fend for itself - is equally wrong.  God has made us all responsible for each other’s welfare.  It is absolutely clear that we are accountable to Him for our generation’s poverty and suffering.  One middle-ground approach, aid, is failing.  In many respects, it has and is creating an entitled generation.  Another middle-ground approach, the best approach, is through mutual learning.  What can Kenyans learn from Canadians and what can Canadians learn from Kenyans?  Having met and befriended so many people in Kenya, I no longer view the “Africa Problem” as a socio-political quandary.  I simply have some really great friends who need some help with unique problems they are facing, and I aim to help.  It isn’t going to solve national issues, but it has hopefully made my friends’ lives a little easier.  I have been opened to new ways of thinking, of looking at the world, and I hope that I have shared some of my knowledge and perspective with them.  

Working towards mutual understanding, recognizing and addressing unmet needs throughout our planet, protecting each other from our sometimes destructive natures, educating the next generation so that they might progress further than we have, encouraging and expressing appreciation for each other’s unique cultures and gifts, loving our brothers and sisters, wherever they hail from: this is the way to solve so many of humanity’s troubles.  This is the big, hairy, audacious goal.  This is how we make A Better World.

Peace out.

An adolescent lion surveys the landscape: "One day this will all be mine!"

**Incidentally, the government did eventually give up control of the Kenya Airways, and it was subsequently privatized.  The IPO was a national event in Kenya, the first of its kind, with many farmers, shopkeepers, school teachers, and taxi drivers showing up to the stock exchange with cash, wanting to buy their small share of the national airline.  Under private management, the foreign offices around the world were immediately recognized as highly unproductive, massive profit drains and shut down.  The staff training budget was increased tenfold, and a performance-based wage system was introduced.  Within two years, the airline was profitable, the number of  Kenyan staff was increased, the delays were decreased to 5%, customer satisfaction was way up, and they were able to offer two million dollars in dividends.  

Masai Mara From On High

The Masai Mara From On High

Inflating the balloon

I am sitting high above the ground in the treehouse at Fig Tree Camp typing my final blog post from the Masai Mara.  Tomorrow we leave this incredible place.  I am up in the tree for a number of important reasons: the view is beautiful - I can look over the tops of the trees to the grasslands beyond where the cape buffalo roam, there are exotic, colourful birds all around singing in foreign tongues, and this is the best place to get a 3G data connection according to a Canadian who lives here at the camp permanently.

The balloon rises over
the 'salt n peppa' of a
herd of wildebeest and
zebra.

In order to put an exclamation point on the end of my time on the Masai Mara, I decided to go up in a hot air balloon this morning to get a view of the place from above.  Wow!  What an unbelievable experience.  We arose early to be at the balloon launch site by 6AM.  Watching as the balloon was inflated in the dim predawn light was an amazing and slightly intimidating experience.  We were loaded up just before sunrise.  Our slow ascent into the sky was lazily matched by the “pole pole” cresting of the African sun over the distant hills.  There was a cool breeze at our backs as we were gently prodded by the wind towards the open plains.  The curvature of the earth, the green lugus (ravines) stretched out like arteries across the plains, the abundant animals, the wide grasslands, the snaking rivers, the grey mountains framing it all in: it was magical.  Herds of wildebeest ran in no particular direction, trying to escape the looming predator from the sky.  Giraffe slowly left the shelter of the trees where they had spent the night.  The entire experience was breathtaking.

The sun rise from the balloon.  Indescribably beautiful.

A young David Attenborough describes the herds of
animals behind him in riveting, exquisite detail.
In a bad British Accent.

Landing gently, we were picked up and driven to a bush breakfast site a short distance away.  Here, by the ravine, under the shade of a great acacia tree, we ate a delicious breakfast, as the enormous herd of zebras and wildebeest lumbered past on all sides.  There is something succinctly singular about sipping coffee on a wood and canvas chair, miles from a building of any sort, watching, over the heads of a thousand animals, a distant hyena steal a zebra drumstick from a group of vultures.  If this isn't a once-in-a-lifetime travel experience, I don’t know what is.