Reflections on International Aid and Human Development (Part 1)
Development Assistance Should Be Personal
This three-part series on international aid consists of observations and reflections by Gabe Hurrish, a Wisconsin native who has worked as an aid worker and missionary for more than thirty years on four continents.
Development assistance should be based on long-term, personal relationships. Genuine human development is not fostered by a patron/client relationship. Instead, development happens through the process of accompanying others on the journey of life—through offering encouragement, advice, sympathy, and yes, sometimes assistance. But this assistance must take place within a bond of mutual respect and accountability. Only in this way can we avoid the curse of dependence, which is the opposite of human development.
For me, life is all about people, developing relationships, laughing and crying together. I have been working in the charity, nonprofit, nongovernmental, and mission aspects of development around the world for around thirty years. In this time, I have seen some wonderful programs and I have witnessed terrible programs. I have met people who really care about those they serve and others who seem only to care about money and prestige. What has struck me most is the lack of human connection that characterizes most of the NGOs and development agencies that I have observed. The staff of these organizations surely have good intentions, but few make the effort necessary to get to know the people and the situations on the ground. Some are too busy to take time away from the demands of reports and meetings. Others may be reluctant to leave the comforts of their offices. Whatever the reason, the result is a failure to appreciate adequately the actual conditions and character of the people who are in need.
A development peace officer once observed, “We have been supporting peace initiatives in this country for decades, yet it seems the violence is greater than ever before.” He asked me, “What are we doing wrong?” I posed a question back to him: “If a stranger came to your home and ordered you to move the fence from this side to that side, to fill in your swimming pool with soil and start growing vegetables, to attend a workshop on how to raise a family; how would you react?” He conceded that it would be natural to resist. I pointed out, “You people are doing exactly the same thing to these locals. You don’t live here, you don’t speak the language, and you have never studied their culture. You come in on a chopper, tell them to do this and do that and you leave in less than two hours. You are a stranger to them.”
“If you want impact,” I continued, “you have to live and work with the people for years to gain their respect, to foster understanding, and then, finally, to elicit cooperation. You have to treat them with dignity as persons and not merely as statistics on a report.” Like the rich man in the bible, that development worker “went away sad” (Mt 19:22). He still saw humanitarian assistance as a job, and he was unwilling to change. Through my years of experience, I have learned much and have come to see my vocation of working in developing countries as a sacred trust. I have come to believe that this is what is required to make a real and lasting impact for good.
A Lost Opportunity
The difficulty—and necessity—of long-term accompaniment versus short-term thinking was illustrated in an experience in Ethiopia. An unexpected call came to our international office from one of our major donors in Canada. The donor’s representative wanted to visit, to go right to the grassroots level and ask the people what they wanted and how they would prefer the program be managed. I couldn’t believe my ears. A large donor actually wanted to hear what the poor had to say and even better, to use their ideas to develop the program! I shared this with the staff and submitted the idea to them. They too took to the initiative with vim. We had never had a donor talk like this before. Within a week we had the entire region organized according to his needs and ready for the arrival of this “wonderful man.”
When he arrived, we drove him out to the project with high spirits and big expectations. He used all the right words and had all the right ideas. He was welcomed by all the villagers—not only the leaders as usual but also women and children. Muslim, Christian, Orthodox, and Protestant groups were all present. Everything was arranged to his specifications, including translators ready to assist. Everyone was eager to participate. For the first time a project was to be designed by the beneficiaries themselves, as it should be. And the donor would listen.
After the preliminaries, we all sat down and the proceedings began. The initial introductions were done and the opening statements given. Then we got down to the nitty-gritty. About an hour passed with much back and forth and substantial input from both men and women. I noticed the donor’s representative was listening attentively. Then a Muslim leader stood up and said that they would prefer to distribute the food-for-work in an equitable manner to all people in the village rather than to give only to those able to work. He explained this was the culture and the accepted way of his people. Our Canadian visitor shook his head and said this was impossible. Those who worked got paid in food and those who didn’t were not given any food. In fact, the visitor now started to tell people that most of their proposals were not appropriate and would not fit with the “priorities” of the donor.
The Muslim leader sat down and everyone in the room went silent. The show was over! I looked at my project manager and wondered if he realized what had just happened. His face showed that he was just as disappointed as I was. The rich world had just told the poor world how to do things their way and had done it in a culturally insensitive manner. The whole thing was a farce and everyone except the Canadian consultant knew it. Over the next several hours the visitor continued to tell everyone how things should be arranged. No one raised their hands anymore. Few commented. Most were not even paying attention. We were so disappointed. He raised the expectations of the people and then blasted them away.
The following week, I returned to do damage assessment. To my amazement the people were not upset. I met with the leaders and they told me it was no problem. That guy is gone, they said; you are here, we trust you, and we know you have our best interests at heart. You do the right thing. We are with you. I was overwhelmed by their generosity of spirit. It was clear that what gave me influence in the community was not my own merit, expertise, or credentials. It was the fact that I was present over a long period of time and that I demonstrated commitment to the genuine welfare of the people rather than to my own agenda.
The rich countries are incredibly impatient. They want to see change and see it quickly. They forget that their own countries took centuries to develop the complex social and economic structures they benefit from. They come across as arrogant and that is the way they are perceived. In my experience, most international organizations do not take adequate time to learn about the country and people they are serving. Often the so-called development project is forced on the people as the best way forward for them. A half-hearted effort is made to convince them that it is “your” project. Then, after pictures are taken, the development workers leave and return to their air-conditioned offices in the capital city. The local people return to their mud huts confused about what just happened. The human connection is lacking, and true development does not take place.
Playgrounds of Development
The failure to achieve the stated aim of development is on display in many abandoned projects that started with high expectations. I witnessed a striking example of this in Africa, when a donor wanted to improve a village market. A large NGO had a presence near the village, having operated in the area for more than twenty years. The donor never consulted that NGO or did any kind of survey. The idea was to build a covered, concrete gazebo so the women villagers could sit in the shade with their vegetables and sell them. The problem was that they constructed it two hundred meters outside the village on a hill. Why? I never understood. But that structure stood empty for years. This is because the villagers know exactly who will buy their products. Therefore, they never sit in an out-of-the-way place and wait for customers to come. The villagers are basically selling vegetables to the only consumers for a hundred miles around: the NGO staff who reside there. The vendors don’t have time to sit all day and wait. The structure became a playground for the children.
I have seen school buildings all over the continent, standing empty and rotting. The donors pay for the school because it goes up fast, makes a good picture, and is what they call a “Quick Impact Project.” However, there are no funds to pay the salaries of teachers and so the building sits idle. Another playground. You can find these development tombstones all over Africa. Most are small, like a gazebo, but there are also many large examples, such as factories, warehouses, and dams.
Personal Charity
The way to avoid these failures is to really know the people being helped.
Many years ago, I gave some money to a poor student, thinking she would use it to pay for school fees so that she would not need to work late into the night to earn money. Instead, she bought her mother a sweater. When I asked her why, she said that all her life her parents had worked so hard to support her and send her to school. She could never repay them as she never had money. This was the first time in her twenty years of life she had “extra” cash. She wanted to repay her mother for all those years of suffering. She wanted to “honor” her mother and she used my donation to do that. I thought then as I do now, that I could not deny her point.
I never forgot that lesson. In fact, from that experience grew a little project I had never envisioned. I started to notice other students with this or that problem. I took time to get to know them. I visited their families. I spoke with the parents. I gained a true sense of the issues they were facing. There was a human connection. Then, with money given to me from friends and family, I would help them out as best I could. Little things can make a huge difference in a person’s life.
One young student in my English class would have been labeled a “nerd” in many cultures. She was plain-looking, shy, and had broken glasses. In private I asked why she didn’t buy a new pair. I discovered she was so poor she couldn’t afford new frames. She was eating bread three times a day just to feed herself. So we went off to an eyewear store and I purchased new glasses for her. Her appearance was much improved. What really struck me though, was how her personality blossomed after this little assistance. Her self-confidence grew and she began to take a more active role in class. She joined groups and became a rather well-liked student. For the first time in the two years I had taught her, I saw her smiling. I wondered if all that could have happened for the price of a pair of glasses.
In effect, during those days, I was acting as a charity. Not registered, not certified, not official, but doing God’s work. I received cash donations from friends and family, which I never solicited. Trust is a huge factor here. They trusted I would use it to the best advantage. I was under no compulsion to report, monitor, evaluate, audit, or any of the myriad of things that must be done in a registered charity. There were no time constraints or reporting deadlines. I was free to be with the people and take time to get to know them as human beings. I had human-to-human contact, which was not only dignifying to the recipient but also very satisfying for me personally. What I did ask was that each beneficiary write a simple thank you to an anonymous person and this is what I sent to the people who had given me the funds. The supporters loved it.
Someone suggested that if I started an NGO I could raise big funds and help more people. But for me it was not about quantity. I knew that going that route would put me in a situation where I would no longer have time to sit and listen to the people I serve. I would be overwhelmed with fundraising, reporting, form-filing, and attending meetings and workshops.
What is wrong with working small? I was working with ten to fifteen students per year, but I had a relationship with every one of them. I knew their families. I keep in touch with many of them today. This to me is the joy of helping others.
A long time ago, when I was working as country director for an NGO, a friend said to me, “Isn’t it great that you work for the poor?” I replied, “Actually, I work with the poor, but I work for the rich. They’re the ones who give me headaches and demands and limitations.” In those days, most of my time was spent on issues dealing with donors, partners, fundraising, grant-writing, and so many other things that distracted from actually touching the people we served.
What strikes me about Jesus was his manner with people. He was inclusive, patient, and always had time for the one who came unexpectedly. He didn’t heal everyone, but he touched those he did restore to health. I want to be like that. I want time for people. I want to be able to drop everything to give my full attention to the unexpected visitor.