Extracted from NGOs and the victim industry, by Bernard Hours
“The ideology behind humanitarian aid depends on three principles. There must be universal human rights – a worthy premise, but problematic. You create victims whom you can save. Then you assert the right to have access to these victims.
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In one way or the other, we are all, with significantly less physical distress, victims of the media, too.
When a person is labeled as something long enough, it is easy for him/her to truly believe in the label. I am afraid we have already labeled Africans as the victim for long enough that they have accepted that as fact. Some of them believe their saviors lie somewhere out there.
“I will not work.” said Meki, a 19-year-old street kid orphaned 3 years ago, who has come to Arusha and been living on the streets since then. “I want education. Someone is going to sponsor me, I know it. Some foreigners!”
“Of the seven years that I have been on the street,” Mohammed recalled, “there was only one time that a foreigner dropped me a hundred US dollar bill.” Regretting becoming a street boy, “I am afraid the foreigners are not as generous as my friend who brought me to the streets told me.” Even though he suffers on the street, he doesn’t know any other way to make enough money to help his single mother.
Some kids make between 2 to 5 thousand shillings (roughly 2-5 dollars) a day, while a farmer on average makes about 3.
Poverty is a problem. But perhaps on our way to tackle that we have created an extra, tangible industry. An industry that does not require government intervention; in fact, it strives better as long as the government ignores the issue.
Here in Tanzania (reasonably the whole Africa) everyone endorses Obama. Kenya made the day after the election - Happy Obama Day - a public holiday. T-shirts with the word Obama floods the streets of Arusha.
The world, at least the one around me, celebrates this historical event. And of course, now we all look forward to what kind of change this next president of the United States could do…
Today, when I was driving down the street in Suzi, a police officer pulled us over. He ordered my passenger to get off the car, and climbed into it himself - a clear sign of bribe-seeking. He told me that Suzi’s hand break was not working, before he even examined it (and, to his disappointment, the hand break does work). He asked for my driver’s license, and I gave him my Californian one (for lacking an international one).
“Obama!” Cheered the police officer. A little handshake. “I can find other mistakes in your car if I want, but for Obama, I’ll let you go.”
Before entering his office in January, Barack Obama is already easing the corrupt situation of law-enforcing officials in East Africa.
Yes, we totally can.
Once a upon a time, a boy named Bahati - blessing, or luck - lived on the streets of Arusha. He was invited into a program called Nafasi Nyingine - Another Chance. There he was taught English and fed food, three times a week.
One night Bahati was found on the street with a bleeding head. It was a friend of his whom he told he is not going to be friends with anymore that got angry and hit him with a rock. When found, he was taken to the hospital directly by a nice lady, and later to her home. They watched football together at home, and they bought some nice clothes together.
With his nicer clothes, he showed up at the Nafasi Nyingine with his chin high. The friend who hit him with a rock was still his friend, after all.
A week later, the nice lady decided to visit his home together with him. For all that time he told everybody that his home was in Moshi - a nearby town to Arusha. On the way to Moshi, he asked the lady where were they going.
“To your home, of course.” said the lady.
“My home is not in Moshi.” said Bahati, “It’s in Arusha.”
So they turned back and took him to his home in Arusha. Upon arrival, they see a nice cement house occupied by a couple. They were Bahati’s father and step-mum. They were really happy to see him, in fact, they have been sending people into the streets looking for him.
There’s a long burnt scar on Bahati’s thigh which he said was done by his abusive father.
“It wasn’t me, it was my brother. He was trying to punish him for stealing his money.” Said Bahati’s father. “I filed it to the police at the end and you could check the record to prove that it wasn’t me.”
Bahati’s step-mum is not Bahati’s favorite, not like his passed-away mother. Although she seems to care for him a lot, too.
“He keeps running away into the streets and we simply don’t know what to do anymore.” His parents admitted. “Perhaps we should just give you the custody of him if that is what he wants.”
No, that was not possible. He was to stay with his family. His picture was to be shared by police officers so they know where to take him when they ever find him on the streets again.
“His name is Solomon, by the way.” His parents pointed out, “Not Bahati.”
Good Samaritan - name of the orphanage that we visit every Tuesday and Thursday - has new meanings after reading the following passage from The Tipping Point: Read the rest of this entry »
Everyone’s got a different take on things.
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Today is the day.
Look out for Stephen’s update, as well :-)
A rather disturbing news article shed light on yet another issue between the two colors.
Albino girl murdered in Tanzania
Maji ya Chai - in Swahili Water of Tea, which describes the milkish water that flows through the village - is a peaceful, tranquil, harmonious place.
It is home to the original CCF center. When German founder Peter Cool used to carry supplies on his head six-foot six above ground, walking up the hill on rocky paths, this new home was a promising new hope for many street children. When Peter departed from this country, and soon after, this world, so have much of his hopes for this organization which he so dedicatedly founded.
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