Corruption, Part II
Note to self: Don’t use overripe mangoes for mango curry. Mushy. Yuck.
I attended a workshop my first month here that I didn’t really understand at the time, probably because it was conducted in Kiswahili and the title of the workshop was “Entrenching Good Governance From Below.” The invitation read: “The above project EGG-B aims at entrenching good governance practices as well as enhancing constructive civic engagement and participation of Community Based Organizations (CBOs) in governance issues at the grassroots.” Huh??
The workshop was basically an anti-corruption class informing people about the various government funds (like the notoriously corrupt Constituency Development Fund, or CDF) available for community projects like improving schools, wiring rural areas for electricity, or building water systems; funds that the average Kenyan bush yokel would otherwise not know about because the politicians and officials who are in charge of distributing these funds often conceal the fund’s existence, or at least how much money is available. The attendees appointed representatives who would meet with the officials in charge of disbursement to find out how much money is available and how communities can apply for them.
Educating rural communities about what resources (especially money) are available to them locally and who to contact is only part of the solution. The other part is much harder to address, because it’s rooted in culture. Every single Kenyan I’ve ever talked to about corruption will rail against it, describe in detail the power dynamics that perpetuate it, lament what a shame it is and shake their heads and sigh. But when confronted with blatant cases of corruption—when it’s waved in their faces and they have the opportunity to say, “Dude, what’s this?”—most Kenyans I’ve met won’t do a thing. It really boils down to culture, especially among the Nandi tribe, who are extremely non-confrontational. They have a flight instinct, as Hillary says. It’s seen as disrespectful to question or confront anyone who has status in a community – politicians, religious leaders, headmasters, government ministry officials, rich businessmen. And especially among the rural poor, most of whom aren’t educated beyond 8th grade, there is an overwhelming sense of disempowerment, feeling like nothing they do will have any effect on anything.
I’ve seen it so many times in community-based organizations, and it’s just a microcosm of the way it works at every level of society up to the highest ranking politicians. Everyone complains about all the corrupt things some dude is doing, but when they have a chance to simply make it known to him that they know about it, no one will say anything. The perpetrator will be lying to their faces about how much money he spent (140,000 ksh for something that retails at 80,000 ksh…hmmm), and everyone will know he’s lying, but no one asks questions. The perpetrator knows that he will get away with what he’s doing NOT because he’s successfully pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes, but because no one has the courage to confront him. Corruption happens not just because the greedy want money and power, but because the people around them let it happen. That, I think, is the biggest obstacle to getting rid of corruption, because it’s about changing cultural and behavioral norms. Based on the behavior change work I do with HIV and AIDS, I can safely say it’s going to be a long, slow journey. Bring a good book.
The Tummy Grows Progressively More Negative Despite Being Larium-Free...
There’s this donor mentality that crops up in every developing country when NGOs, foreign governments and large private donors come in and start pouring money into development projects. I can’t figure out if it’s because of improper implementation and monitoring of donated funds or what, because all these funding organizations know about the importance of sustainability, but yet the organizations give money, impose stringent monitoring and recordkeeping policies, require detailed descriptions of workplans and timelines and sustainability plans, and yet it all just seems to give developing countries like Kenya more incentive to continue being corrupt and flounder around in their myriad problems even longer.
I realize powerful countries like the U.S. give money to poorer countries to boost their own diplomatic interests, and not out of sheer compassion, so I’m not going to get all self-righteous about non-existent noble intentions. But sending money into any country where corruption is institutionalized isn’t exactly brilliant foreign policy, and in the long run the beneficiary country as a whole develops an unhealthy dependence on outside donors.
The flip side of the situation is more frustrating, because you want to believe that people – the beneficiaries – are inherently hard-working and honest and all share the same basic goals in life, to make sure their families and loved ones are healthy and have the basic necessities. But instead you find out that charity is often met with indifference, or more commonly, a heightened sense of entitlement and expectations.
When I get annoyed with someone I like to repeat this mantra: PEOPLE ARE STUPID.
And I’m finding myself repeating it a lot these days, especially when I hear stuff like:
1. Why do you care what I did with the money? It’s not money we had to work for; it came from a mzungu. So stop asking questions.
2. Don’t tell Justina anything. She is a mzungu and she doesn’t understand how things work. Anyway, she’s leaving in two years so why involve her in our business?
3. Where’s our money? Justina has been here for six months and hasn’t given us any money. It must be because she’s young so her friends and family don’t have much money yet.
4. Justina is a mzungu, of course she has money to give us, and if she tells you differently she’s lying.
5. Why should I pay back the loan? It came from a mzungu, so who cares if we waste it?
I attended a workshop my first month here that I didn’t really understand at the time, probably because it was conducted in Kiswahili and the title of the workshop was “Entrenching Good Governance From Below.” The invitation read: “The above project EGG-B aims at entrenching good governance practices as well as enhancing constructive civic engagement and participation of Community Based Organizations (CBOs) in governance issues at the grassroots.” Huh??
The workshop was basically an anti-corruption class informing people about the various government funds (like the notoriously corrupt Constituency Development Fund, or CDF) available for community projects like improving schools, wiring rural areas for electricity, or building water systems; funds that the average Kenyan bush yokel would otherwise not know about because the politicians and officials who are in charge of distributing these funds often conceal the fund’s existence, or at least how much money is available. The attendees appointed representatives who would meet with the officials in charge of disbursement to find out how much money is available and how communities can apply for them.
Educating rural communities about what resources (especially money) are available to them locally and who to contact is only part of the solution. The other part is much harder to address, because it’s rooted in culture. Every single Kenyan I’ve ever talked to about corruption will rail against it, describe in detail the power dynamics that perpetuate it, lament what a shame it is and shake their heads and sigh. But when confronted with blatant cases of corruption—when it’s waved in their faces and they have the opportunity to say, “Dude, what’s this?”—most Kenyans I’ve met won’t do a thing. It really boils down to culture, especially among the Nandi tribe, who are extremely non-confrontational. They have a flight instinct, as Hillary says. It’s seen as disrespectful to question or confront anyone who has status in a community – politicians, religious leaders, headmasters, government ministry officials, rich businessmen. And especially among the rural poor, most of whom aren’t educated beyond 8th grade, there is an overwhelming sense of disempowerment, feeling like nothing they do will have any effect on anything.
I’ve seen it so many times in community-based organizations, and it’s just a microcosm of the way it works at every level of society up to the highest ranking politicians. Everyone complains about all the corrupt things some dude is doing, but when they have a chance to simply make it known to him that they know about it, no one will say anything. The perpetrator will be lying to their faces about how much money he spent (140,000 ksh for something that retails at 80,000 ksh…hmmm), and everyone will know he’s lying, but no one asks questions. The perpetrator knows that he will get away with what he’s doing NOT because he’s successfully pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes, but because no one has the courage to confront him. Corruption happens not just because the greedy want money and power, but because the people around them let it happen. That, I think, is the biggest obstacle to getting rid of corruption, because it’s about changing cultural and behavioral norms. Based on the behavior change work I do with HIV and AIDS, I can safely say it’s going to be a long, slow journey. Bring a good book.
The Tummy Grows Progressively More Negative Despite Being Larium-Free...
There’s this donor mentality that crops up in every developing country when NGOs, foreign governments and large private donors come in and start pouring money into development projects. I can’t figure out if it’s because of improper implementation and monitoring of donated funds or what, because all these funding organizations know about the importance of sustainability, but yet the organizations give money, impose stringent monitoring and recordkeeping policies, require detailed descriptions of workplans and timelines and sustainability plans, and yet it all just seems to give developing countries like Kenya more incentive to continue being corrupt and flounder around in their myriad problems even longer.
I realize powerful countries like the U.S. give money to poorer countries to boost their own diplomatic interests, and not out of sheer compassion, so I’m not going to get all self-righteous about non-existent noble intentions. But sending money into any country where corruption is institutionalized isn’t exactly brilliant foreign policy, and in the long run the beneficiary country as a whole develops an unhealthy dependence on outside donors.
The flip side of the situation is more frustrating, because you want to believe that people – the beneficiaries – are inherently hard-working and honest and all share the same basic goals in life, to make sure their families and loved ones are healthy and have the basic necessities. But instead you find out that charity is often met with indifference, or more commonly, a heightened sense of entitlement and expectations.
When I get annoyed with someone I like to repeat this mantra: PEOPLE ARE STUPID.
And I’m finding myself repeating it a lot these days, especially when I hear stuff like:
1. Why do you care what I did with the money? It’s not money we had to work for; it came from a mzungu. So stop asking questions.
2. Don’t tell Justina anything. She is a mzungu and she doesn’t understand how things work. Anyway, she’s leaving in two years so why involve her in our business?
3. Where’s our money? Justina has been here for six months and hasn’t given us any money. It must be because she’s young so her friends and family don’t have much money yet.
4. Justina is a mzungu, of course she has money to give us, and if she tells you differently she’s lying.
5. Why should I pay back the loan? It came from a mzungu, so who cares if we waste it?
posted by Justina at 8:24 PM
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