Watching her in action, in her long orange tunic, it's clear that Aryarathne has found her calling—far from where she began in a Sri Lankan architectural firm working on designs for multi-national companies.
How did she wind up here, near the Kalu River in the Ratnapura district of Sri Lanka, helping women think about how to keep their families safe and ease the constant hardship that flooding brings?
"I always had a passion to do something for people who are less privileged than me," says Aryarathne. During her university years—as she was working toward her goal of becoming an architect—she couldn't help but think about the community outside the institution's walls: It was impoverished and yet the development of the university had done little to address that poverty. That fact bothered her deeply.
But it wasn't until Aryarathne landed her first architectural job that she got the chance to tackle that kind of injustice herself. Her firm won a contract to develop a Colombo laundry facility—a place where scores of people manually wash clothes and linens on a large scale for clients such as hotels and hospitals. The laundry sat on prime property that a multi-national company wanted to develop—and the city had agreed to let it go ahead in exchange for the corporation's commitment to build a replacement facility.
The design of that new facility fell to Aryarathne. And right from the beginning she followed the instincts that led her to where she is now: a consultant and trainer working with poor and marginalized people who have a great deal to say about how to improve their lives, but little opportunity to be heard.
Warned that the washers could become unruly and that she should be careful, Aryarathne visited the old laundry facility. Instead of being afraid, she found herself deep in conversation with the people there—after telling them the truth about the construction proposal. If it happens, she asked, what would they like a new facility to include?
The floodgates opened, and though she didn't know it then, Aryarathne had her first exhilarating experience with participatory action research—a method of working with communities on problems whose solutions they will own. At that first laundry meeting, she learned everything about their work, from soaking and soaping, to boiling and hammering.
"That was my first exposure to a community—and it was really good," said Aryarathne. "I knew they had a lot to tell me and all that my boss had said was not true."
Soon after followed other participatory architectural projects, and gradually Aryarathne came to see where her real interests lay: With people working on initiatives that will improve their lives.
Fourteen years ago—leaving behind years of training and a budding architectural career—she made the shift from the private sector into the development world. And she hasn't looked back.
"This is more satisfying than architecture," says Aryarathne.
In the small community building in Ratnapura, the session with community members comes to an end. Aryarathne looks thoughtful as she folds up the charts she has just made with their help—charts that list the problems associated with flooding and some of the solutions villagers have proposed. She will compile the findings for an Oxfam-supported study aimed at promoting equal participation of both men and women in programs to reduce their risk of disaster.
"Architects are at the service of rich people," said Aryarathne later. "Just as you cater to multi-millionaires, villagers need our services, too."
]]>On this hot August morning in a small fishing village on Sri Lanka's southern coast, he is probing locals for a full understanding of what well-being means to them. He remains serene as they squabble a bit, call each other liars, and offer up whole new categories no one has mentioned before. When a group of men can't agree on a set of criteria, he announces a tie and allows both points to become part of the findings.
Such is the life of a researcher engaged in the ebb and flow of a study that allows its authors to enter into a direct dialogue with the community they are focusing on. The approach is called participatory action research—a method Weerackody believes in deeply. He is applying it to a piece of research intended to expand the understanding of mental health issues in Sri Lankan communities affected by natural disasters or long-term conflict. Funded partially by Oxfam, the study is part of a large, four-year project conducted by investigators from McGill University. This piece is being carried out by the People's Rural Development Association, McGill's local partner.
"People are never given a chance to participate in the decision-making process," says Weerackody. "And this is what we need"
That lesson became all too clear in an earlier study he had helped to conduct on the impact of the aid system on communities affected by the tsunami. People received goods that weren't relevant to their lives, that were of poor quality, that weren't useful, says Weerackody—all because no one had bothered to consult with the communities themselves.
"It's about attitude and the way the colonial system was established," he adds. That system says decisions should be made by technical experts or politicians. "They think people don't know what they want."
Weerackody thinks otherwise.
"If it is decided by someone else, people don't have any feeling it is part of their lives," he says. And aid agencies have enough experience building roads, community halls, culverts, and the like to know quite well what will happen if beneficiaries aren't involved from the start: As nice as the facilities are, they won't be maintained, says Weerackody.
A relocated fishing village in which he has been conducting research recently offers a case in point. The hillside homes, sturdy but small, now house 55 families formerly living near the sea, and a newly built community center at the top of the hill serves as gathering place for all.
"They have a house but they're not happy," says Weerackody. "That house was not spacious. They can't entertain their relatives. They don't have enough place to sleep. One woman said she can't even make love with her husband. The lesson we learn from the study is you may design houses, but what's needed by development workers is to take into consideration other aspects of well-being."
From a rural community himself, Weerackody, who has been working in participatory development since 1982, says he takes pleasure in meeting with local people to learn about their opinions and needs—an important perspective to understand since so much of the country's population is rural. About 80 percent of Sri Lankans live in rural areas, Weerackody points out. And whenever he's got a free moment, he heads out of Colombo, Sri Lanka's capital and his current home, to visit the village in which he was raised.
"I have a strong belief in community consultation," he says. "Development workers should respect the communities and should win the trust and confidence of communities."
]]>Until then, the Dhan Foundation had never been involved in disaster response. But when the team got back to Tamil Nadu, they learned something new: that people engaged in Dhan Foundation's long-term savings groups and federations had been the first to respond to the tsunami in their communities.
"They had the networks and the resources they needed to respond," says R. Sangeetha, who at the time was a faculty member at Tata-Dhan. This gave the team an idea: Dhan could respond to the tsunami in the coastal areas, but not just for the short term.
"Instead, we decided to commit to working there on a long-term basis," said Sangeetha, to provide relief and rehabilitation, but also to reduce the risks and vulnerabilities of those communities to future disasters. Oxfam helped the Tata-Dhan Academy take this commitment a step further, supporting them to create the Advanced Center for Enabling Disaster Risk Reduction (ACEDRR), an institute within the academy that helps communities that participate in Dhan's development programs reduce the risk that a disaster will undo their hard-won gains against poverty. Sangeetha became the coordinator of the center.
The goal, says Sangeetha, is to "help development professionals to see every development action in a disaster risk reduction perspective."
People her whole life told Sangeetha that she would thrive in a service job, working with the very poor, and she agrees. "It's in my nature," she says.
She studied agricultural management at university, and decided to take a two-year job in social work to see if she liked it.
Her first job was with a tribal community in the north of the country. She lights up when she remembers it. "I loved it there," she says. "You would always find me in the communities, playing with the children or talking to people. I never wanted to leave at the end of the day."
It was early in her tenure there that she observed some children playing ball, and one girl sitting out. She asked the girl why she wasn't playing. "She said she had cancer in her legs," says Sangeetha. "The other children knew she had cancer, too. But no one knew what it meant to have cancer."
Sangeetha knew that cancer untreated would be deadly, and took it upon herself to get the child the care she needed. But when she took her to the hospital, she got some terrible news: The girl would have to lose her legs.
Sangeetha fights tears discussing this experience, even so many years later.
She counseled the family and the community, who were skeptical of harsh medical interventions like this one. Eventually, though, they decided to opt for surgery. "It was a very hard time," Sangeetha says. "I was with her every day in the hospital."
Now, seven years later, the child is 17 and healthy. Sangeetha has done her best to keep in touch the girl and her family, though it's been at least a year since she's heard anything. That experience made her decide to continue helping people as best she could.
Of her career choice, Sangeetha says "it's such hard work, but it's such important work. Even if you just help one person, it's worthwhile."
"And everyone here feels the same way," she says, gesturing to the Tata-Dhan Academy. "They all care so much. That is why this is such a wonderful place to be."
]]>But now that she has insurance, she can afford to take him to a clinic to get checked out.
According to Devudamma, many mothers here face the same dilemma when their child comes down with fever. Fevers could mean malaria or dengue, both of which are potentially fatal.
"Because they don't know what it is, the tendency is to rush to the hospital," said Devudamma, "But they charge a lot."
"That's where insurance is very handy," she said.
Many fishing families in the Pudimedaka village are deep in debt, borrowing money to rebuild boats, to cover daily costs when the catch is small or injury or illness keep them from working, or, like Devudamma, to pay for medical care.
When fish are plentiful, families have to pay back their loans, usually with a high percentage of their catch.
But health insurance, as part of a broader economic plan, is opening up new possibilities here.
Three years ago, the District Fishermen's Youth Welfare Association (DFYWA) a local NGO, and Oxfam partner, helped families in this village determine that medical expenses were a huge drain on their resources, costing some up to a quarter of their yearly income.
DFYWA also convinced Oriental Insurance, a government of India company, to create policies designed, and priced, for very poor fishing families.
Now, for what they make in a day, families like Devudamma's, can purchase an annual policy, protecting themselves from the costs of sickness, accidents ? even the death of a breadwinner.
With money saved on medical care, families here are buying ice-boxes, fishing nets and fish drying and processing equipment. These investments can help them earn a little more on their catch than they did before.
Health insurance is a great first step, but ultimately, the people of Pudimedaka need a more comprehensive insurance package to keep them out of the pockets of money-lenders, who fulfill a "mafia-like" role, according to J. Saravanan, fisheries expert from the Development Human Action (DHAN) Academy in Madurai.
Beyond medical costs, fishing families would benefit from insurance that covers assets including their boats, houses and even their day's catch.
Initially, Oriental did not know how to insure the traditional Indian catamarans that the poorest fishermen use, since they had no way of knowing whether the boats were seaworthy.
But DFYWA convinced the Department of Fisheries to rate and certify even these homemade boats. As a result, boat insurance should be available soon, according to Oriental representative Srihari Naidu.
Home insurance has also proved tricky for Oriental, since thatched roofs break easily in storms, even though they are also cheap and easy to repair.
And Naidu was confounded by the idea of insuring a fisherman's catch, despite the fact that other insurers have found a way to insure a farmer's crops.
Fish are a common resource, used by many, said Naidu. "We can't possibly know how many fish are in the sea."
Insuring assets, and not just health, would do more to keep vulnerable families out of debt, and allow them to build their savings, add value to their work, earn more money and reduce their vulnerability.
Mahalakshmi Kara, a grandmother in the village, has relied on a health insurance policy for at least a year and has started saving a small percentage of her earnings.
"We never thought that we could save, but we're doing it," she said.
"I don't know how it will be helpful," said Kara, "but if [saving] can lift us even an inch out of poverty, I'll be very happy."
]]>In the DRC, increasing violence has forced people to flee from their homes, and led to the deaths of almost 1,500 people a day. Though no other conflict causes that kind of death rate, Oxfam's workers hear similar stories of murder, rape, and displacement from men and women from Colombia to Sudan every day. Sixty years after the main Geneva Conventions enshrined civilians' rights to protection, they are violated in every current conflict.
Some states and non-state actors choose to kill civilians, or pursue strategies in which civilians are too likely to die. Some governments choose to protect their citizens: to keep them safe. Some do not protect all of them, or not well enough. There are, however, successful examples of protecting civilians that show what governments and others can do when they choose to.
They have an interest in protecting civilians, because mass atrocities fuel the conflicts that, in an interdependent world, create security threats that cannot be contained. And an increasing number of governments have a "moral interest" too, because their electorates expect them to help prevent, not just condemn, the atrocities they see beamed around the world through modern information technology.
To do so, they need to make four key changes.
Well, the US is by far the largest donor to Afghanistan—and we must acknowledge and credit the US with this generosity. Without US support, it is difficult to envisage Afghanistan achieving stability in the near future.
I think it's clear that not all of America's pledges to Afghanistan have been fulfilled. Of course, there are reasons why—partly due to the lack of capacity on the part of Afghan ministries and the security environment. But I think there is a clear need for efforts by donors, first of all, to fulfill their aid pledges wherever possible, and second, to focus on building the capacity of the government both at a central and a local level.
We also need to bear in mind, regardless of pledges, the levels of aid. The average level of US aid in Afghanistan for the last six years has been around $7 million a day, compared to the fact that the US military spends around $100 million a day in the country. Now, we can't immediately put that right, because a large of influx of aid would be a dangerous thing—it could lead to waste or corruption. What we need to do is incrementally increase the level of aid.
This brings me to perhaps the most important point: the way aid is spent is crucial. There are a number of ways in which aid is failing to maximize its potential.
For example, efficiency: too much aid is wasted on large contractors who make significant profits. Large numbers of expatriate consultants absorb a lot of the aid in high salaries. Now, we're not saying that you don't need consultants or contractors in Afghanistan—you do. But you've got to rigorously assess the extent to which they are providing value for money, in each case and in every program. And around half of aid is “tied”: donors require the procurement of goods or services from their own states. This is inefficient, and as a result we estimate 40 percent of international aid goes back to donor countries.
Also, we have been looking at the ways aid is delivered. In many cases, donors fail to ensure that aid is addressing Afghan needs, rather than being supply-driven and prescriptive according to donor preferences. In many cases there has not been an even distribution of aid. Aid has been used to achieve military and political objectives, rather than for the fundamental priority of reducing poverty. It's been urbanized, rather than prioritizing rural areas where the vast majority of Afghans live. Some two-thirds of aid bypasses the government, and only half of aid is actually in agreement with the government. Then there are problems with coordination: of all technical assistance, only about one-third is coordinated, and there is a clear lack of coherence among the donors in a number of areas.
Aid is essential to Afghanistan, and it actually needs more aid, but at the same time there have to be concerted efforts to improve aid's impact and its efficiency and its effectiveness. Donors need to provide full transparency about what they're doing, what they're spending their funds on, and how they're spending them. We need to establish indicators of aid effectiveness, tracking impact, efficiency, relevance, sustainability, accountability, ownership, and use of Afghan resources.
There should be a separate, independent body—which could even be located within an existing institution—which monitors aid delivery, evaluates aid, identifies bad practices, and issues recommendations as to how they can be put right. Donors should take steps to improve coordination, which will require efforts by each individual donor, as well as a strengthened UN and Joint Coordinating Monitoring Board in Afghanistan.
I've seen local NGOs working at grassroots level with simple projects that are according to Afghan preferences and Afghan needs; they're often led and actually implemented by Afghans. Even if it's just a simple water supply project or irrigation project, I've seen some really impressive results that benefit an entire community. And I've been impressed with the commitment of the people at these kinds of NGOs. They're really hard-working, dedicated to what they do. Of course we do need the big infrastructure projects, but the ones that strike me as particularly well-done have been these small-scale projects.
I think this is actually at the heart of effective aid. In order to have a project that is really relevant to the lives of ordinary people living in difficult circumstances, you have to ensure that they are fully engaged, fully involved, and if possible leading projects. And then indeed they will make sure—because this is of direct relevance to their lives—they will make sure that the project is addressing their needs, and in the future they will fully use it and ensure that they get the benefits from it.
Let's face it: nobody wants to feel anything is imposed on them. Communities in the developing world are no different. We cannot impose solutions; we have to really make strenuous efforts in terms of engaging people. There may be some trade-offs in terms of efficiency, but it's worth it to ensure that what we do is effective.
There has been insufficient coordination between the government and the donors. I think there is now recognition of this problem, and there will be efforts to improve and address this. It's crucial that there is a strong partnership, and wherever possible, the Afghan government takes the lead.
But at the same time there is no doubt that there have to be efforts to improve the capacity of the Afghan government, to improve its public administration, to increase transparency, to build accountability, and to reduce corruption. Donors should be conscious of this; it requires considerable efforts on their part to help the Afghan government address some of these problems.
Certainly there is significant scope for USAID to improve its aid delivery in Afghanistan. There should be efforts made to increase the amount of aid that goes to the Afghan government, and this can be done through international trust funds, which offer a means of protecting against corruption or waste. Britain and Canada both devote the vast bulk of their funds to the Afghan government through these trust funds, and we would encourage the US to do likewise. Right now, only 6 percent of US aid goes to the Afghan government. It's hard to see a sustainable government in the future if we're not building up its capacities.
USAID should ensure that all its projects are in alignment with national or provincial plans, and fully engaged with government or local authorities. It should ensure that it is reducing the amount of aid that is delivered through military teams, and increasing aid to civilian-led development processes. It should attempt to ensure real transparency in the activities of the large contracting firms, and ensure that their profit margins are fully justified. It should ensure that there is a proper assessment of whether consultants are fully justifying their considerable salaries. It should reduce tied aid requirements, so that projects do not require the use of American firms of materials. It should seek to increase the extent to which it coordinates with other donors and the Afghan government.
We would also encourage USAID to support the call for the establishment of indicators of aid effectiveness, and support an independent mechanism for monitoring the performance of donors. We believe it's in everybody's interest to identify where aid could be better spent, and how it could be better spent, which ultimately will lead to stability and allow the US to over time reduce its commitments in Afghanistan.
There is undoubtedly a link between insecurity and persistent poverty in Afghanistan. If aid is effectively delivered, and there is strong rural development, I can guarantee that is the best foundation for a future of peace in Afghanistan. There no shortcuts, no quick deals that will lead to a lasting peace. An essential component of peace is strong development, which we can achieve if we increase the level of aid and use it well.
Although violence has been increasing in recent years, there is a real prospect of achieving more peace in Afghanistan. The international community needs to recognize that a major change of direction is required. They, together with the Afghan government, need to take a number of steps. They need to support the proposals we have made and other NGOs have made about humanitarian priorities, development, peace-building, and aid effectiveness, and there needs to be a sense of urgency in order to put things on the right track. I am cautiously optimistic, primarily because of the sheer resilience and determination of the Afghans to achieve peace and development. But we have to raise our game in order to help them to achieve that.
]]>Waldman's assessment will reinforce what many Americans believe: that long years of struggle have put the Afghan people in a position of hopelessness. But when Waldman talks about the people he has met in the course of his work, what he emphasizes most is their strength and resilience.
"The Afghan people have a great strength; a dignity in their lives, and a pride in their culture....In many ways, I'm impressed by their determination to make the best of the situations they live in."
Waldman himself is British, a former foreign affairs advisor for the UK Parliament. He is in the midst of a whirlwind US trip to promote Falling Short, a report he wrote exposing the $15 billion international aid shortfall in Afghanistan.
He looks a little weary, but speaks calmly and assuredly about leading a team of Oxfam policy and advocacy specialists who work both in the capital city of Kabul and in rural areas of Afghanistan. Their job: to listen to people's concerns, conduct research, and advocate for change at the national and international level.
In the mountain provinces of Badakhshan and Daikundi, Waldman and his team visited families who survive long, harsh winters on a diet of mainly dried bread and tea; communities where the life expectancy hovers around 44 years old; places where children and pregnant women often die due to malnutrition and a lack of medical care.
In other regions, thousands of civilians have fallen victim to acts of violence by militants and criminal groups. Oxfam and local NGOs are implementing peace-building programs to end violence at the local level.
Despite the obstacles, many Afghan people are determined to build a secure future for their country and their families. "I know of individuals working for human rights, who have been subject to considerable pressures, who nonetheless continue their fight," notes Waldman. "And ordinary Afghans who work long and hard to ensure their families are well kept and their children can attend school."
The US also plays a role in securing Afghanistan's future. "The US is by far the largest aid donor to Afghanistan," Waldman says. "Without US support, it is difficult to envisage Afghanistan achieving stability in the near future."
Right now, though, US support for Afghanistan is not living up to its promises. US military spending there far exceeds spending on aid—and the US has only delivered half of the $10.4 billion in aid it committed between 2002 and 2008. To achieve real change in Afghanistan, Waldman says, the US must increase funding for aid projects that lift people out of poverty.
And effective aid is about more than just dollar amounts. "The way aid is spent is crucial," says Waldman. "Right now, there are a number of ways aid is failing to maximize its potential."
To live up to this potential, the US needs to approach aid differently in Afghanistan:
It's essential, Waldman says, that local people are the owners and leaders of the aid projects that affect their lives. "Let's face it: nobody wants to feel that anything is imposed on them. Communities in the developing world are no different. In order to have a project that is really relevant to the lives of ordinary people living in difficult circumstances, you have to ensure that they are fully involved."
If we take these steps, Waldman says, we can build on the strength of the Afghan people and help bring peace after decades of conflict.
"I am cautiously optimistic," he says, "primarily because of the sheer resilience and determination of the Afghans to achieve peace and development. But there are no shortcuts, no quick deals that will lead to a lasting peace."