the importance of context and consent

Lately I've been re-reading The Poisonwood Bible, by Barbara Kingsolver. I was lucky; I spotted it randomly one day on a street corner, nestled amongst the usual fare of thrillers and romances, their covers dramatic black and gold, or garish pink. I always peer at the hawkers' dusty piles of books when I pass by, but this was the first time I'd found anything of interest.

It's the story of a Baptist family who become missionaries in a rural village in the Congo in 1959, when it was still a Belgian colony, but on the verge of independence. The story alternates from the point of view of the mother and the four daughters, each of whom has a unique voice and perspective on their lives in Congo. It's a favourite book of mine, not only because of the excellent writing and fascinating setting, but also because it shows how badly you can mess up if you don't at least try to understand the culture in which you're working. It highlights how something might seem completely nonsensical to an outsider, but is simply common sense in the context of the culture. But you'll never figure that out unless you talk to people, ask questions and keep an open mind.

Some of the misunderstandings in the book remind me of a disastrous development project I heard about in Samburu, a semi-arid region in Northern Kenya. Water is scarce in much of the North, so wells (or bore holes, as they're called) are a common and generally well-received project. A well-placed well can save women and girls hours which they would otherwise use walking to the next water collection point, and carrying the full jerry cans and buckets back home. However, this particular NGO foolishly did not consult locals before creating the well. They decided to put it at the base of a hill. After the well was constructed, the NGO sat back, waiting to be thanked and to see the well in use. Nobody said a word, and nobody used the well, though it would have saved them hours of labor daily. The organization was baffled.

If the NGO's employees had bothered to work with the community it was supposedly helping, instead of doing what they thought was right as outsiders, they would have discovered that the hill the well was next to was a sacred place where the dead were buried, and where their spirits were believed to reside. Nobody would take the water from the well, as so much activity near the burial place would be considered to be disrespectful. And in any case, the water was likely contaminated, since the source was so close to decomposing bodies.

It's the same old story with many NGOs which attempt to address female genital cutting/mutilation, particularly those from the West. Coming in with no conception of why women would want their daughters to be cut, it is easy to dismiss the practice as nonsensical and "barbaric". Simply addressing the host of health issues that cutting can incur (severe blood loss and infection, sometimes leading to death, being the most common, in addition of course to psychological trauma), is helpful because everyone has the right to be informed. But unless development workers understand the context, they will not be able to address the motivation behind female circumcision, and their interventions will therefore be useless. Any anti-FGM program which fails to address cultural aspects, fails to understand the distinction and tension between individual and collective rights; the importance of marriage and family; local understandings of bodily integrity and normality, life stages and female identity; and the economic aspects of FGM. It's a very complex issue -- it's not just about health, or even just about women's right. And yes, I can believe with all of my heart that the practice is harmful and should be heavily modified. But that's all the more reason to try to fully understand the context surrounding the practice.

At the pre-male circumcision ceremony I attended last month, I saw a group of Maasai men with a video camera, speaking with the young boys. They were asking them about education -- is it better to go to school, or to help your family by herding livestock? What are the benefits of each, what are the drawbacks? Most of the boys apparently responded that school was the way to go, and gave some justification for their choice. I like this approach -- presenting people with different options, and letting them decide on their own which is the best way.

Too many foreign aid workers come to "the dark continent" thinking that they're going to save people by bringing the light and the way. Like the missionaries in The Poisonwood Bible, the development workers that build the well in the wrong place, and many anti-FGM crusaders, they come in assuming that they know best and are ready to bludgeon or coerce their ideals into the heads of community members, at any cost. But it's not so simplistic. Unless you are ready to learn more than teach, it will be a long and fruitless fight. Unless your project is able to run sustainably without your presence, no one will have gained.

People are not sheep. You cannot herd them in one direction and expect that it will work out well. People everywhere in the world, educated or not, have the faculties and the right to make their own decisions and guide their own development. Development without consent is meaningless.