Gen Yers who are reading this will be familiar with a battle we share. A battle we could probably fight and win, if we could be bothered to get up off our parents’ couches and tear ourselves away from the screens we apparently love…but, well… “Meh.” Plus, I’m way too much of a commitmaphobe to risk engaging in a battle.
In case you’re not picking up on my sarcasm, the battle I speak of is the battle against the Gen Y stereotype. And for those of us who don’t identify with this stereotype, the message that we’re “self-centred, irresponsible, apathetic leechers” is getting pretty old.
Like every generation, ours has its faults. And sure, some of us need to say YOLO a bit less often and start thinking more of others. But, at least in the circles I move in, there’s also an abundance of millennials who are looking outside themselves and are fully awake to the world around them.
We care about global inequality, politics and the environment, and we’re optimistic enough to believe we can leave the legacy of a world with fewer scars than the one we’re inheriting.
If you’re in Melbourne on 30 August, you could be lucky enough to witness a 250-strong group of said humanitarian millennials converge on the Royal Exhibition Building for Expanse, a conference that aims to give Gen Yers “the tools they need to start the fight for greater justice and equality in the world.”
Expanse is the brainchild of Agency, a creative studio working in communications and media, and brings some of the biggest charitable organisations in the world together in one room. World Vision, Oaktree, UN Youth and ONE.org are all taking part, and they’re calling on “student leaders, advocates, speakers, thinkers and dreamers to join them.”
If you are a Gen Yer with dreams for a more just and equal world, then Expanse is the conference for you. You can use the Internet (coming out of the screen you’re glued to) while you read this to learn more and register for Expanse.
Oh, and in case you’re feeling anxious about it, you can check-in to the conference on your smart phone, and there will be hashtags and selfies-a-plenty, so you can ease your FOMO. We’ll just be using social media for social good, not evil.
Agency is a creative studio and social enterprise based in Sydney. The company works on branding, design, video and digital and interactive experiences for projects that further human development, foster human rights and drive social equity. You can check out their website or follow them on Twitter.
[Expanse is a one-day conference that uses interactive and engaging ways to teach young people about global issues and help them develop the tools to solve global problems. Organisations like WhyDev will be at the event to help participants understand global development networks and how they can participate in the community. If you're around (and aged 16-24), consider attending the conference, and be sure to stop by our table! We'd love to learn more about your interests and hear your ideas on how we can make WhyDev a better resource for young people. Use the code WD896 to get $5 off your registration.]
In honour of World Humanitarian Day, the WhyDev team wants to recognize an unfortunate truth: humanitarian projects often fail. We believe NGOs need to confront their mistakes, talk about them and learn from them – it’s the only way aid will get better. Continue reading →
Like most right-thinking people, I had decided to devote 1 July to football. After Argentina’s grinding, 1-0 defeat of Switzerland, I was getting ready to enjoy the USA-Belgium match, when a link on Twitter caught my eye. “As food shortages hit 800,000 African refugees,” warned the press release, “UNHCR and WFP issue urgent appeal.”
The story is entirely garish: the kind of too-awful-to-be-true story we’ve all gotten so adept at seeing-and-not-seeing. Due a budget shortfall, UN agencies had to cut food rations for refugees throughout Africa. In some cases, people are getting as much as 60% less to eat. The new rations, The Guardian warned, come to scarcely 850 calories a day.
We’re all supposed to be grown ups, able to read-but-not-read a story like that, right? And yet, this time, I couldn’t. As I tried to concentrate on the USMNT’s valiant-but-doomed stand against the tactically superior Belgians, my mind kept drifting back.
“850 calories. How can you even live on that?”
I think most people who go into advocacy have a moment like that, when a story not so different from the ones you’re used to just passing over stays with you, tugs at you, worms its way into your every thought, becomes unignorable. That night, I found myself up at 3am, turning it over on my mind, re-reading the UNHCR story, looking for extra information (of which there wasn’t any).
I guess I’m pretty green on these issues, because I really thought over the next few days I’d start to see this story crop up other places. I mean, this is a famine brewing inside UN facilities, affecting people living under the international community’s protection. Surely the story had legs.
The days went by, and I found myself first confused, then dismayed, and finally shocked to be disabused of this hope. The story about the food crisis inside UNHCR refugee camps was going absolutely nowhere. It came, it blipped, it disappeared into the digital oblivion of a public sphere saturated with football and Hobby Lobby and downed Malaysia Airlines jets.
“These Africans sure picked a lousy weak for the UN to run out of money to feed them,” I mused darkly and tried to move on. But I couldn’t move on. I was stuck.
“How would you like it if you had to live on…” I found myself ranting at my wife. And at that moment, the idea came to me.
By the end of that week, a first draft of 850 Calories was online, and I was frantically trying to figure out how to get people to join me. I bet if people experienced for themselves what it’s like to live for even one day on African refugee rations, they wouldn’t be comfortable to know this is happening to 800,000 people whose only “crime” is fleeing from conflicts that threatened their lives.
So there’s indignation, of course, at the wellspring of the campaign, but there’s also analysis. There’s a reason UNHCR and WFP face the kind of funding gap that’s left them no choice but to drastically cut back on African refugees’ food rations. And it comes back to that complete information gap I saw in the days following their joint appeal. Nobody’s heard this story, so nobody cares to tell this story, so nobody writes this story – with some very few, fantastically brave exceptions.
Refugees in Central Africa are suspended in a vicious cycle of Western disengagement and international neglect, the cost of which is measured in stunted children, anemic mothers, child brides and community breakdown. The Western politicians who ultimately control the purse-strings find it eminently easy to ignore the agencies’ pleas for money, because none of their constituents have ever heard this story, and they’re thus under no pressure whatsoever to act.
This, I think, is why 850 Calories is different from things like One Day without Shoes or the infamous Kony2012 campaign. Those are cases where the fact of Western awareness, of it “being a thing,” didn’t necessarily do anything to solve the problem. Shoelessness is an intractable problem, and Boko Haram is a war machine the West would struggle to face down even if it made military commitments many orders of magnitude larger than what hastagtivism can accomplish.
But the food crisis inside UNHCR’s camps is different. Here’s a situation where, in fact, just making it “a thing” would produce pressure for Western politicians to solve the problem. If people start to take the 850 challenge, post about it, tweet about it, get their friends doing it and get them posting and thinking about it, the problem could go from total invisibility to cultural ubiquity a lot quicker than folks realize. That would create the kind of environment in which politicians have strong reasons to fund the UNHCR-WFP appeal, and the funding is all that’s missing now. After all, the camps are already there, the refugees are already registered, the logistics are already in place, the only thing missing is the money. Well, the money, and the will.
850 Calories is just starting, and I have no idea if it’ll ever have its “viral” moment. Experts tell me that, with its absence of a clearly identifiably bad guy and its focus on a largely unheard-of crisis, it may not.
It may be that we just let refugees in Central Africa starve to death slowly under our “protection.” That’s the crude reality - the least we can do is face it squarely.
I’m just one guy with a keyboard in Montreal. It may be that there isn’t really anything I can do to stop that. But Thomas Friedman’s been boring us to death for years now about how we’re all “hyper-empowered” thanks to the net and, personally, I’d much rather give it a shot and fail than never try at all.
Complexity is the latest buzzword in development, but with good reason. Our work is complex, not just because of the kinds of issues we work on or the contexts in which we work, but also because being an international development practitioner is a complex thing.
Whether we are staff of an NGO, an academic or an independent consultant, we are continually playing multiple roles and meeting multiple, at times conflicting, demands. Every day, we work across cultures and through multi-layered relationships of power that we must learn to navigate and that frequently challenge our values, beliefs and assumptions.
Unfortunately, there are no simple, universal instructions on how to manage these complexities. Reams of butcher paper and megabytes of PowerPoint presentations have been used to provide guidance on being a good development worker. Our personal experience is that the conversations with our colleagues (typically over a drink, often in dingy hotel rooms and airport lounges) have been the most valuable.
Our best source of professional development and support has been the opportunity to share experiences and perspectives, to challenge and be challenged, and most importantly to laugh at ourselves.
With this in mind, we are running a series of conversations in Melbourne on the second Tuesday of every month, beginning 12 August (ahh, now the name makes sense!). The series is aimed at middle- and senior-level international development practitioners, from across the NGO, academic, consultancy and volunteer sectors.
With the help of a few of the leading voices on development practice in Australia, we will reflect on the complexities that we face in our day-to-day work, how we manage them now, and how we might do better in future.
If you like the idea of some structured ranting, accompanied by Shebeen’s excellent selection of beverages, come along! The sessions interlink, and we hope that over the course of the sessions you will feel increasingly comfortable to speak openly and honestly.
To contribute to this kind of environment where people will feel comfortable, we ask that you register for all five sessions, although we know you might not make it for all of them. A small contribution is requested to cover the venue fee.
Katherine Gilbert worked on strengthening social service delivery and improving aid effectiveness with the UN in Fiji, Solomon Islands and Haiti for seven years. Over the past six months, she has worked as a research fellow at a Melbourne-based university on a health sector study in the Solomon Islands.
Rebecca Spratt has worked in international aid and development for over ten years, mainly in the areas of education, civil society strengthening and advocacy. Rebecca is currently based in Melbourne as an independent consultant, having previously worked for government, NGO and private sector agencies in New Zealand and Australia.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is reprinted here with permission.
There’s nothing I enjoy more than meetings. Particularly meetings with the donor, who’s the person who’s supposed to sign the checks that make sure you have a job for just a little bit longer. So while you may work for the good of the people of [fill in the name of the pile of smoking rubble you’re standing on that people insist is still a country], you actually work for the donor.
And donors love nothing more than holding meetings. Some common varieties are:
Working group meetings
And the dreaded, avoid-at-all-costs:
This last one’s the one you have before the really big meeting, so you can all go over what you’re going to talk about at the actual meeting. That meeting will usually involve multiple donors all brought together for some kind of conference or seminar or something else equally mind numbing. Those meetings generate things like “action plans,” which are promptly forgotten or subtly sidetracked because coordination means someone’s going to have to share with others, and that’s not how development work is done.
But rather than just surviving these meetings, here’s a handy guide for coming out of those meetings looking like someone who a) genuinely cares about the work you’re doing, and b) is a recognized thought leader among your peers. (Put that last one on a LinkedIn profile…it’s CV gold.)
1. Ask for milestones
This is a great way to get a lot of nods and approving noises from those around the table. It’s also a great way to throw a peer under the bus, and if it’s not a peer, good times can be had by all as you watch that person scramble to explain the various milestones in their amazing five-year plan.
2. Use “sustainability” whenever possible
This ties back to the first one, because if something doesn’t have “milestones,” it’s probably not going to be “sustainable.” Asking any presenter if they have a sustainability plan usually yields the same fun as the milestones question.
3. Flip through the handout while the presenter is still talking
Nothing tells a room “I’m already thinking a few steps ahead” better than rustling paper and moving ahead through slides that haven’t been presented yet. Combine this with questions about sustainability, and you’re sure to get that next Chief of Party gig.
4. Make notes on upcoming slides
This reinforces the idea that you’re looking ahead, past the point that your presenter is making, and are about to make some kind of statement that should make the rest of the group start shuffling through the handout as well.
5. Say, “I don’t see a gender component.”
Letting the group know you care very much about gender issues is something that will endear you to peers and supervisors alike. Donors love people who are looking for the gender angle, even if the project is the artificial insemination of goats in the Andes Mountains. It also puts the presenter on the spot and usually means they get to scramble to make that point out of sequence with their other slides.
6. Start a few sentences with variations on “I’m worried that…”
I’m worried that we’re not reaching the children enough with this.
I’m concerned about the optics of that distribution plan.
I’m guess I’m not sure how that can be sustainably implemented.
Nothing shows insight in development work like vague concerns. And you’ll never have to explain that concern because someone else in the room will second your thought immediately. Since you’re already planning on leaving the meeting early to demonstrate how busy you are, you’ve just generated about 15 minutes of discussion, which means you won’t have to hear many of the rest of the slides.
7. Suggest a follow-on working group.
Once the discussion generated by #6 has gone on long enough, speak up and suggest that a follow-on working group be convened to deal with that particular issue. It sounds like you’re creating more work for yourself, but one of two things happen now:
Everyone is secretly hoping this won’t happen since it will mean more meetings. So you can keep re-scheduling that working group until everyone who was at the meeting leaves the country.
Someone wanting to make a name for themselves will volunteer to chair that group. And then they’ll execute the plan in #1.
8. Humorously reference the ineffectiveness of bureaucracy.
During the course of the meeting, which is keeping anyone in the room from doing any actual real work, make an offhand comment like, “Well, you how long THAT’S going to take.” This is a tricky one, since the people who actually slow your work down are probably sitting around the table at the moment, so use carefully.
9. Openly mock the standing government.
The only real barrier to your success as a development organization is whoever’s currently sitting in the presidential palace/mansion/hut/hovel. You and the donor are the most effective team ever assembled for this kind of work, and the plans you’ve collectively put together would be an unmitigated success if not for the policies of the president/king/high lord of all he surveys.
10. Leave early because of a field visit.
No one in a development meeting would dream of keeping anyone from visiting the field. This is effective for a few reasons:
A lot of the people in the room have never been to “the field,” so they will be suitably impressed and will see your value to the organization.
Your friends in the room (and there won’t be many) will be impressed with your temerity, since they know you don’t have one.
If questioned later, you can complain that security canceled the movement because they don’t understand the real work that’s being done here.
Gary Owen is a pseudonym for a Former U.S. Army Infantry and Civil Affairs officer with two tours in Iraq supporting Operation Iraqi Freedom, who has been working in Afghanistan as a civilian development worker since 2009. A self-proclaimed “idealist with a mortgage,” his home on the web is the blog Sunny in Kabul, and you can follow him on Twitter. He’s also a semi-regular contributor to the Afghan Analysts Network and occasional writer for Vice News. Gary and his wife call Texas home, where they live with a couple of retired racing greyhounds and three overly needy cats.
It happened the first time in Honduras, where my organisation had sent me to document programmatic success. We had rushed around all day, flinging wires and lights around, lugging our cameras and backpacks from interview to interview, scribbling notes and shaking hands. When we collapsed for lunch at 3:30 we were exhausted.
And there it was. Right across the street, with all of its 31 flavors. A Baskin Robbins. The kind of American chain I had promised myself I would never, ever patronise on a trip to another country.
A few months later, I was in Panama. And so was a Subway. I don’t know how to say “sandwich artist” in Spanish but I listened to the man in front of me say “con todo” as he gestured toward the row of excruciatingly familiar washed-out tomato slices and leaking pickles. So I said it too, and walked away with the sinking, guilty sensation that I was having the same groaning sandwich I might have had on any Wednesday in my hometown.
What was I becoming? I had gone to so many countries where I railed against being a tourist, and sought instead to be a traveler. Where I insisted on experiencing the culture, the food and the people, even at some cost to my ego, wallet and digestive tract.
And yet here I was after lunch, in a taxi in a country I might never return to, listening to the driver tell me the Panama Canal was five minutes away and hearing myself respond, “Just keep going, we don’t have time for that.”
As a communications writer for an international development organisation, I love that my job lets me occasionally travel the world. And yet it’s not the kind of traveling I love.
Instead of following a gap-toothed stranger through the curling stone streets of Lamu, Kenya to find the house of the man who sells heart-shaped labania, I check my watch from the backseat of a sedan without seatbelts and calculate the minutes until we are officially late to a meeting.
Instead of playing a game of pick-up soccer with barefoot neighbourhood kids, I’m silently urging the photographer to hurry up and capture their carefree smiles for the cover of our next case study.
As I rush around checking items off my to-do list, I rarely get the chance to cross things off my bucket list.
But maybe I’ve been writing down the wrong things. Sure, on that trip to Honduras, I never got to snorkel in Roatán or see the Mayan ruins near Copán. But I laughed with my local film crew over a bean-and-mayonnaise sandwich I didn’t quite mean to order, and felt inspired as I followed a grandmother around the barrio she was trying to save from gang violence.
I never got the chance to buy any of the famous metalwork when I went on a work trip to Haiti. But a local woman taught me all the gestures to a lilting folk song as we motored a small fishing boat into the Atlantic, and my mouth filled with decadent sweetness as I squished a fresh chunk of honeycomb that a young beekeeper slid to me atop his machete.
I never did visit the Panama Canal. I guess I’ll have to go back.
And when I do, these frantic trips spent focused on work will allow me to bring a deeper understanding than I would have gained from trying to find the most authentic experience on my own.
I’ll know that just around the corner a bunch of kids whose parents are in opposing gangs are playing a ping pong tournament together, and learning about nutrition from a volunteer husband-and-wife duo who dress up as clowns.
I’ll know that there’s an old woman in knee socks who comes to feed the pigeons out of a floppy woven basket in the square in front of the Iglesia de los Delores, and that a group of retired soccer referees meet on the Parque Central benches every Thursday morning to gab.
And I’ll know that when I get sick of bean and mayonnaise sandwiches, and when my job has left me haggard and overheated, there will probably be a Baskin Robbins just around the corner.
Jennifer Brookland is the Senior Writer and Editor at Creative Associates International. She has previously reported for Counterpart International, Devex, IRIN and News21, and has produced multimedia packages on international development from six countries. She always packs a headlamp. Jennifer has a degree in Foreign Service from Georgetown University, a Master’s degree in Journalism from Columbia University and a Master’s degree in International Law and Diplomacy from the Fletcher School.
This was originally posted at the IDDS Tanzania blog and is reprinted here with permission.
Every year at the International Development Design Summit (IDDS) participants form eight teams to work on technical solutions to eight priority challenges across four rural communities. Behind every great project there are community visits by the organising team to develop strong relationships, investigate project potential and hear of the community’s major challenges throughout the year. In Orkilili, a Masai village at the outskirts of Kilimanjaro airport, we spent time with Judith as we heard about her daily routine.
I looked at the cup of tea that Judith had placed in front of me on the modest wooden table, surrounded by a few tattered sofas, in her living room. In Australia or Europe I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But here, in this rural Tanzania, after all our team have seen and experienced over the past few days, I couldn’t help but think about all it took to prepare this simple cup of tea. There were no less than three major challenges the community face on a regular basis represented by this unassuming hot beverage.
For this cup of tea to be present we first needed milk. Milking poses a few challenges for the Masai in Orkilili – especially during the dry season when the land becomes barren and water is scarce. A proverb in Tanzania says that, “Ngombe akikonda Masai amekonda.” Which translates to,“When the cows become thin the Masai become thin.” Suffice to say that this time of year is not only a challenge for incomes, which rely heavily on agricultural activities, but also for survival.
Luckily, when we visited the cows looked healthy, but the hardest time of the year is yet to come. We asked what happens in lowlands during the dry season when there is no grass for the cows to graze. Judith’s father explained that the children take the cows to the mountains or to graze on neighboring farms for a fee. Both these locations are far and the latter is a drain on financial resources during already testing times. Time and again the heard and land owners lamented, “if only there were a way to store the grass during the dry season.”
Now, when the cows are grazing close by, they are milked twice a day; once in the morning and once in the evening. Masai men often have multiple wives as well as many cows. Both are a measure of wealth and according to Masai tradition it is the responsibility of the women ensure the cows are milked. Judith and her sister-in-law, Angel, set to start their milking duties and beckoned us to join as the sun started to set.
Calves are normally kept separately from their mothers in an adjacent pen. To prepare the cows for milking the women allow the calves in to feed – this softens the cows’ teats and make it easier to milk. Before they are able to satisfy their appetites the calves are pulled from their mothers with a woven sisal rope and secured to a nearby fence. When the mothers follow to protect their offspring they’re now in a position to be milked.
It takes the girls around an hour to milk the five cows. During this hour they collect around seven liters of milk. The next day they will collect only five. The girls complain sometimes of being kicked and the milk being spilt. They only milk enough for their families’ consumption and perhaps a few liters to sell on to nearby neighbours. It’s a time-consuming job for this family of ten – we could only imagine the challenges that would be faced by a family with a larger herd.
The second step in making tea is the challenge of heating the milk. Although Orkilili has a reliable and consistent electricity supply, unlike in neighbouring villages, households rely on firewood as their primary cooking fuel. A quick glance over the landscape surrounding the family home reveals few trees and the group enquires, “So where does the wood come from?” A shake of the head comes as the first response from Judith who tsks and replies, “Ah it’s difficult.”
Unsustainable practices for collecting firewood has taken its toll on the land and left families anxious about how they will continue to complete even the simplest of tasks: cooking.
Earlier in the day, we’d spied a group of young girls climbing the trees lining the road toward the village high school. Judith explained that they were collecting firewood. Back at Judith’s home we foraged for smaller sticks to get the fire started but the family are reliant on the purchase of firewood for the bulk of cooking activities. It cost the family 7,000TZS (which equates to $4.20US) for one piece of wood that lasts three days – the equivalent of nine meals for a family of ten. That’s the equivalent of two and a half days income for the average Tanzanian (source: World Bank).
During our interactions and conversations with the community we noted and discussed opportunities for technical improvements. A way to dry and store grass during the dry season so that families can keep cattle grazing close by? Or what about using the manure produced by cattle and agriculture waste as an alternative fuel source for cooking? And low-cost milking technology could certainly reduce the time spent day and night to milk the cows – not to mention the opportunity to reduce contamination.
By the time we’re enjoying this cup of tea I calculate it took Judith and Angel no less than two hours to prepare. The challenges we discovered by investigating the journey of this cup of tea, plus more from other communities, will be framed to create problem statements, which teams willbegin to address in collaboration with the community in the coming month.
Judith is excited about attending the International Development Design Summit this year as a participant to work on solutions to the challenges she, and her village, face throughout the year. When I asked if she was nervous she said, “No, of course not. I am strong Masai lady!” Participants from our partnering communities in Tanzania and from around the world joined in Arushaon the 7th July and will run until August 9th. More updates will be posted periodically on the blog.
Bianca Anderson is a mechanical engineering graduate of Deakin University, Australia and the international organizer and design facilitator at the International Development Design Summit. She’s passionate about appropriate technical solutions; working to develop grain storage solutions at the International Development Design Summit in Zambia 2013; and agricultural technology with the Covenant Centre for Development in Tamil Nadu, India. She’s an energetic ambassador of Engineers Without Borders Australia and has spent countless hours volunteering in their Melbourne head office as well as out in the field. You can reach her at firstname.lastname@example.org.
If you were to ask me what my most useful resource during a three-year undergraduate development studies degree has been, I think the answer might surprise you: Twitter. Although I initially joined Twitter so that I could join in on my housemates’ banter about cupcakes and Ryan Gosling (don’t judge), I quickly found Twitter to be an invaluable professional and career development resource. I decided to leave the Ryan Gosling banter to Facebook, the pictures of cupcakes to Instagram, and came to see Twitter as a ‘rolling online CV’.
Through Twitter I have been approached and invited to a coffee meeting to discuss a new business venture; I’ve been recruited for freelance work at a national newspaper; and I’ve been sent a film that I went on to screen at my university. My housemate (also a development student) even connected to a journalist at the Guardian through Twitter, and was interviewed for an article that was published on the website. While I am by no means a social media expert, I thought I would share here some top tips on getting the most out of the Twittersphere.
1. Get your profile right: It needs to include the serious stuff (such as your current degree or place of work etc.), but don’t forget to make yourself sound human (put in one of your other interests or a quirky fact about yourself). See examples here.
2. Don’t just retweet: It’s important to inject some of your own voice into your Twitter feed, so don’t just rely on retweets or on tweeting out links or article headlines (although obviously do that too) – aim for something like 70% pure retweets, 30% tweets that you have either written yourself or altered.
3. Live-tweet: For me, the best way to interact with people or to gain followers has been to live-tweet from events, conferences, talks and panel discussions. Jump on the event hashtag, tweet some of the best things the speaker is saying, and make sure to interact with other people who are tweeting from the event.
4. Research hashtags: Make sure you only use hashtags that you know other people are already using. Don’t go making up bespoke hashtags à la Instagram (#yolo #internlife #unayyy). Before using a hashtag, click on its feed to make sure it’s active – basically, you want to make sure it’s worth using some of your precious 140 characters on. Talking of hashtags, the Guardian Global Development Professionals Network (@GuardianGDP) tweet out a daily hashtag (#hashtagoftheday), which is always worth checking out. Another important point is to limit how many you use – more than five hashtags significantly decreases the likelihood of someone interacting (clicking on, favouriting or sharing) with your tweet.
5. Watch what you Tweet: If you imagine your Twitter page as a rolling online CV, you automatically become more aware of what you allow on to your feed. There’s nothing wrong with Tweeting comments of a more personal nature (it makes you a more interesting person), but being too controversial or offensive is only going to draw attention to your feed for the wrong reasons.
6. Follow academics: This one is probably a little biased given that I am technically still a student, but there are some academics who are very active on Twitter and who are well worth following (try Laura Hammond and Chris Blattman for example). Of course, make sure to tailor this to your own area of interest so that the issues they are talking about, or the research they point you to, is relevant.
7. Get favouriting! Twitter can often be an overwhelming space of information, so the ‘favourite’ button is a really useful tool. Use it to bookmark anything that you see that may be of interest or of use, but which you want to come back to later. When I’m writing essays or preparing for exams, I often stock up on these resources and then go back through them to find what might be most relevant.
8. Don’t be afraid to engage: Twitter is much like the real world – people like to interact, and they like to know your reactions and opinions on things! They also love a good complement. So if you’ve read, or seen something that you liked – post it on Twitter and say what you liked about it (making sure to mention the original source). Even if people don’t get back to you on it, they’ll likely appreciate you for making the effort to Tweet about it. Similarly if people post questions, or shout-outs, on Twitter – reply to them (but only with something useful). That’s how my housemate got interviewed by the Guardian, and how I ended up contributing to this blog!
9. It’s another skill to add to the CV: Many entry-level jobs in development organisations are likely to be in PR or communications positions, and if you can showcase that you are an active user of Twitter you are automatically in a stronger position. If you think that your Twitter feed is a good reflection of you both as a person and as a potential employee (or let’s face it, intern), don’t be afraid to include the link on your CV. It will give people a unique insight into you – one that can’t be achieved on LinkedIn or on a two-page Word document.
If all of this seems like a lot of effort, I promise it tends to be worth it. For me, Twitter has been an equal playing field – despite being a lowly development undergraduate, Twitter has given me a platform to engage and interact with the development community and has brought my degree to life in a way that I don’t think other resources could have done. There are so many ways to get the most out of Twitter, and these 10 tips are just the beginning – please get in touch if you have more to add!
Gemma McNeil-Walsh is completing her undergraduate degree in development studies & economics at SOAS in London, and heading to the Oxford Internet Institute for her MSc in October. Interested in media, communication, Internet and ICTs on the African continent, she works in digital newspaper production, interns with SOAS Radio, and has spent the previous two summers working in Freetown, Sierra Leone on documentary and citizen journalism projects. Follow her on Twitter @gemmcneil
On 19 May in Rome the Committee on World Food Security (CFS) began a week-long series of negotiations on a set of Principles for Responsible Agricultural Investments (CFS-rai).
The CFS was established following the 1974 World Food Conference, which was held on the backdrop of a large-scale food crisis due to a year of bad weather and escalating oil prices. With the conviction that the issue of hunger had to be tackled through a coordinated global response, the CFS was set up as an intergovernmental platform to review world food security policies.
Following the 2007-08 food price crisis, the CFS was reformed to give a voice to all stakeholders, especially those from the field, to allow the promotion and exchange of views and experiences. This reform came from the efforts of civil society organisations (CSOs) and countries, such as Brazil and Argentina, which pushed for its adoption in October 2009.
Previously, governments had neglected the CFS, as it had been deemed an inefficient tool on food and nutrition issues. The democratisation of the CFS was further motivated by making it a more effective platform, in a context where food insecure populations were increasingly recognized as potential agents of change and not only passive victims.
CFS-rai against land grabbing?
In 2010, the newly reformed CFS rejected the Principles for Responsible Agricultural Investment that Respect Rights, Livelihoods and Resources (PRAI) proposed by the Inter-Agency Working Group (IAWG), made up of the Food and Agriculture Organization of the UN, the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development, the International Fund for Agricultural Development and the World Bank.
The CFS did not endorse the PRAI, leading to the development of a second attempt, the CFS-rai principles.
The first draft of the CFS-rai principles was prepared following a process of consultation that opened the floor to all actors’ input on what should be included in the guidelines for responsible agricultural investments.
Agricultural investments are desperately needed but they are not always responsible or beneficial. In fact, the involvement of some multinationals and states has been found to have created food insecurity and poverty, and caused the loss of livelihoods.
As such, the adoption of principles by the CFS next October could have major repercussions on the types of investments that are promoted, and whether or not they jeopardize human rights, food security or the environment.
The Civil Society Mechanism
The inclusion of a Civil Society Mechanism (CSM) within the various CFS mechanisms is important in ensuring the livelihoods of small farmers are taken into consideration. The CSM is an open and inclusive space prioritising the involvement of organisations working for those who are most affected by food insecurity and poverty (e.g. smallholder farmers, indigenous peoples, women, urban poor, migrants, etc.).
As a result, hundreds of CSOs can participate in global policy debates on agriculture and food and nutrition security, allowing for greater transparency. More concretely, the CSM facilitates the participation of CSOs at the global, national and regional levels during various meetings and consultation sessions, such as the CFS Plenary Sessions, Open Ended Groups and FAO regional conferences.
Within the CFS, the participation of social movements such as La Via Campesina and various other peasant and indigenous groups is essential. According to the NGO Grain, small-scale family farmers, who represent the backbone of rural economies and produce most of the food consumed worldwide, are increasingly being “squeezed onto less than a quarter of the global agricultural land.”
Given that 80% of the world’s hungry people are small-scale family farmers living in rural areas, the CSM means they are not merely victims of food insecurity; they have become actors of their own development.
As the CFS is a forum for decision-making, the participation of social movements and CSOs may also help indigenous knowledge to be recognised as much as the economic rhetoric of the private sector. The integration of the CSM means small-scale, family-based agriculture can be at the centre of agricultural investment and policy and also ensure it actually reduces food insecurity worldwide.
Protecting small-scale family farmers
While the CFS-rai are voluntary-based guidelines, they could still provide important buffers against land grabbing by encouraging governments to secure access to land for smallholder farmers and monitor developments to ensure vulnerable groups are not at stake.
In practice, during the plenary sessions, this means country representatives from all around the world, along with private sector and civil society spokespersons, spend long hours negotiating, debating and (re)writing guidelines that aim to reduce food insecurity.
Paragraph by paragraph, words are carefully chosen. Sometimes, even moving a comma leads to a heated argument. This is because, although the CFS-rai are not legally binding, they can still impact the lives of millions of people and could be used as leverage to hold governments and investors accountable.
Whether or not the CFS-rai will be used to hold governments accountable is difficult to predict, but the fact that the integration of the CSM is allowing civil society groups to participate in the global debate on food security is most certainly a step forward in fighting hunger worldwide.
Geneviève Lavoie-Mathieu is a freelance writer and MSc candidate in Human Development and Food Security at Roma Tre University. She still believes in participatory democracy even if this year she attended the CFS negotiations for the first time and spent a 4-hour session listening to parties debating one, only one, paragraph. You can follow her on Twitter.
Since his carpentry business began in 2007, Daniel Scott focused his energy on winning contracts with international development organisations. After completing training on bid compilation and with a lot of persistence, Scott’s hard work eventually paid off. His business won contracts with a variety of international development organisations, including Save the Children.
This particular contract was for wooden resuscitation beds for infants for clinics supported by Save the Children. Previously, Save was importing the beds, which was both more time-consuming and costly.
With the money earned from his contracts, Scott purchased the woodshop he previously leased and hired 28 additional workers, four of which are now employed full-time. Watch the video below for the full story.
This story is not a one-off success. By purchasing local goods and services, international development organisations can create jobs and generate income as an added benefit to their main work. Incorporating local businesses into international supply chains prepares them to do business with other international companies, resulting in more sustainable businesses operating long after aid organisations are gone.
A Building Markets survey of 110 contracts showed that in the case of Liberia, 48% of contracts resulted in a second contract with the same buyer, while the average contract resulted in the creation of seven full-time equivalent jobs
This is huge in a place where just 15% of the population is formally employed and 60% live below the poverty line. Employment impacts all dimensions of life, including health, education and peace. Moreover, for every dollar exchanged with a local business, 78 cents will remain circulating in the Liberian economy, paying children’s school fees, purchasing medicine or providing a daily meal.
La vida local
Local procurement doesn’t only benefit local businesses and the national economy; it benefits buyers, too.
Importing is costly and requires time. Save the Children waited one to two months to receive imported resuscitation beds that cost more than the beds local carpenter Daniel built in less than one month.
Despite all the positive benefits of local procurement, most development organisations are guilty to some extent of importing supplies. A September 2011 report found more than 50% of total official development assistance (ODA), or about $69 billion annually, is spent on importing goods and services. Moreover, 20% of bilateral aid is still formally tied to suppliers in donor countries, resulting in projects that are 15 to 40% more expensive.
A 2006 Peace Dividend Trust study (PDT is now called Building Markets) of 10 United Nation missions found that less than 10% of their budgets go to local goods and services. Despite this, what little was spent locally contributed four to 8% of Gross Domestic Product.
Local procurement is an opportunity for cash-strapped aid organisations and huge multinational corporations alike to benefit the local economy while saving money for their own organisations.
So why is buying local so challenging and what can aid organisations do to overcome those barriers?
In post-conflict and developing economies, a lack of market information prevents international companies from finding local suppliers. For example, in Liberia no YellowPages exists, traditional advertising is priced too high for small and medium enterprises (SMEs) and almost half of local businesses use the Internet only once per month or never.
In this environment, how can a buyer locate local businesses? And how can businesses find out about tender opportunities?
Solutions: Until a buyer develops a trusted vendor list, buyers rely on word-of-mouth recommendations or must physically explore the marketplace, (unless they are lucky enough to be in a country where Building Markets operates a free, online Supplier Directory). Investing time initially to meet promising businesses will lead to long-term business relationships.
One strategy for finding businesses is to provide bid compilation training for local suppliers, which usually results in more and higher quality bids.
Meeting international standards
SMEs in developing countries often fall short of the quality expectations of international companies. Quality control measures are inadequate, and many SMEs struggle to meet international standards for packaging and food inspection or health and safety standards.
Solutions: Organisations should provide trainings, or link up with a group that provides business training, for suppliers on that organisation’s standards. Bringing local businesses up to international standards requires time and commitment but will result in more cost-effective suppliers and saved money for the buyer.
Pre-financing large contracts
Even when SMEs win contracts, they do not always have the materials or cash required to complete them. For example, a construction company that wins a $1 million project is expected to be able to purchase all the necessary materials for the project, yet won’t be paid until completion of the project. How can a small, local business that doesn’t make much profit or have large cash reserves buy the requisite materials?
Solutions: When possible, buyers should unbundle contracts so that local businesses can afford to purchase the goods needed to pre-finance the contract. Encouraging SMEs to form joint ventures, either with another local business or an international company doing business in the country, can enable SMEs to bid on contracts they otherwise would not be able to fulfill. Lastly, if available, buyers should participate in flexible financial products, such as invoice factoring.
Doing business with local businesses in developing countries can be challenging; however, the benefits are enormous. The more local businesses that learn how to bid on contracts and become competitive in the global marketplace, the more aid organisations benefit by saving time and money associated with importing.
Plus, businesses that win contracts with aid organisations create jobs and income for others in their community, resulting in sustainable impact as a knock-on effect of aid organisations procuring local.
SMEs are known as the engines of growth in developing economies; it’s up to the aid community to make local procurement the spark plug.
Morgan Ashenfelter is the Communications and Donor Management Associate at the nonprofit organization Building Markets in Liberia. Morgan joined Building Markets in January 2011 as a Communications and Project Assistant at Building Markets’ headquarters office in New York. She has experience in communication and fundraising strategies, project monitoring and evaluation and business development. Before joining Building Markets, Morgan held positions at The Nation magazine, Doctors Without Borders and Philadelphia Magazine. She has a Bachelor’s degree in journalism from Temple University.