On a recent Wednesday morning in the West Arsi Zone, a large crowd of people gather outside the government offices in the Shalla district, where, according to government figures, 55,598 people have been identified as needy, but only 10,000—people with the most severe wants—are getting help. In this crisis, distinctions based on need have begun to blur.
"For us, it is becoming even more difficult to tell who is the poorest of the poor," says one man.
The faces of the people in the crowd are gaunt, their clothes are tattered. Suddenly, a low roar swells from their midst. They surge from the compound and out onto the road, surrounding a pair of aid workers in a dense, crushing circle. They are desperate to tell their stories, desperate for help.
A middle-aged man shouts out that local officials promised two weeks ago to support the people with wheat, oil, and corn, but so far he has received nothing. Instead, the crowd's vigil, now in its fourth day, is met only with this admonition: wait.
An elderly man adds that one of those in the crowd on the road couldn't wait anymore and died there the day before.
Others say they have been filling their stomachs with a leafy weed that has sprung up since the rains came. But the greens—boiled in water and salted—have made some of their children sick with diarrhea.
Weak from lack of real food and their stomachs filled with forage, the children of one mother sometimes faint on their way to school.
"Can you help me?" she asks, staring at the aid workers.
A short distance away, mothers rest on a long line of benches under the shade of a giant tree at the Shalla health center. Small children, unnaturally still, sit on their laps, their cries occasionally piercing the din. This is a feeding center where some of the weakest children come for a week's supply of Plumpy Nut—a nutrient-packed food supplement for malnourished children.
Not all hungry children qualify for the supplement. Some are deemed still well enough not to require it. One of them is the 11-month-old son of a single mother. He is her only child, and desperate to have him get more food, she offers to give him away to an aid worker—a gesture of hopelessness other mothers make, too.
A five-year-old girl holds the hand of her father as she limps slowly toward the packets of Plumpy Nut a worker is counting out for her. She has recently spent 15 days in a hospital in Shashemene because of severe malnutrition, and is now strong enough to rejoin her family. But her mother is sick following the delivery of a new baby, and the two-and-a-half acres of seeds her father just planted for the next harvest have all been washed away by a sudden heavy rain.
"We are facing so many disasters at the same time," says the leader of a local community, where he notes that one man died the day before and many of the women are sinking into exhaustion. "Drought, flood, disease."
]]>Rain has finally returned some green to the pastures on this broad lowland, and as the cows mow down the new blades and inhale them hungrily, Shitaye talks about her own hunger—months-long, paralyzing, intractable. Shitaye is not her real name. It has been changed to protect her security. Drought killed the harvest she had hoped to reap in June. Since January, family meals have consisted of a bit of corn and coffee in the morning with nothing else for the rest of the day. And some days there has been no food at all.
Here, in the West Arsi Zone of central Ethiopia, the convergence of failed rains, chronic poverty, and a wild spike in food prices, like those now roiling other parts of the globe, have left 320,000 people needing relief, according to government figures. Only some of them have gotten aid. Recently, the Ethiopian government more than doubled its figures for those requiring help as a consequence of drought that has gripped parts of the country. Now, the government says, 4.6 million people nationwide—up from 2.2 million earlier this year—need emergency assistance, and 75,000 children are suffering with severe acute malnutrition.
Aid workers report that in northern parts of Ethiopia's Somali region, where most people make their living as herders, rain has not fallen in two years. South, in the Dire district of Oromia's Borena Zone, the 45 days of rain that normally replenish the area between March and May dwindled to 15 last year, and just five this year, leaving pasturelands parched and fields too dry to produce the basic staples people depend on. According to the government, almost 62,000 people live in the district and 90 percent of them now need assistance.
Shitaye, a widow and grandmother of 10, says the current troubles are even worse than the hunger that killed about a million people in Ethiopia in 1984. This time, she says, there is no way families can supplement their meager household stocks by selling things in the market to buy food: Grain prices have climbed far out of reach.
In area markets toward the latter half of June, a quintal of corn was selling for 600 birr, or $64, and teff, a type of grain from which people make a pancake-like bread, had spiraled up to 1,100 birr, or $117, for the same volume—prices that are three times their normal amount.
In West Arsi, a major infusion of food for people and seeds for their fields will be essential to avoid an even deeper crisis next year. In its latest appeal, the Ethiopian government says it needs $325 million to meet the needs of beneficiaries across the country.
Oxfam International is responding to the crisis with a $2.42 million initiative aimed at helping 225,000 people in three regions—Oromia, Afar, Somali. Programs include the provision of clean drinking water for families and livestock, livestock vaccinations and feeding, the distribution of seeds to allow families to plant crops for the next harvest, and cash-for-work initiatives to help people earn some money.
"We're wondering if we'll survive until September," says a man sitting near Shitaye.
"We rest everything on our creator," she adds, cradling one of her grandchildren. "We beg him that everything will turn out to be good."
]]>Ethiopia's finest coffee is grown in the shade of native trees, which allows the coffee cherries to retain their moisture until they are ready to be picked. Without the shade of these generations-old trees, the coffee bushes would produce bitter tasting, inferior quality beans.
Berhanu says he knows it pays dividends to protect the environment. "One of our family plots had its natural shade deforested and so the coffee beans that particular plot yields are not of the expected high quality," says Berhanu. "Our cooperative union will not accept lower-grade coffee to be sold in the international specialty market, so we sell it for local consumption and make less money from it."
To remedy this problem, Berhanu is getting technical support from experts at the local agricultural bureau to reforest the plot with indigenous trees. The agricultural bureau is providing Berhanu and others in the area with tree seedlings.
With the mid-day sun peeking through the canopy of trees and the birds calling in the distance, Berhanu says he is at his best when he is hard at work on his family's coffee plots. "You see, it is not just the coffee bushes that enjoy the shades," he chuckles as he makes himself comfortable under a giant sycamore tree. "After a long day's work, a little rest under the shade of these old trees rejuvenates my soul."
Parents to 12 children, Berhanu and his wife Aster have been growing coffee for the past 10 years. They depend on the income they get from growing world renowned Yirgacheffe coffee to support eight of their children that are still living with them and are attending school.
Berhanu and Aster were new to the coffee business when, in 2001, the price of coffee sank to a 30-year low and the global coffee crisis hit Ethiopia—the birthplace of coffee. Rather than giving up in despair, Berhanu and his family were determined to ride out the storm and come out stronger than when they started. Oxfam America was by their side as it led a global campaign to bring the plight of Ethiopian coffee growers to the attention of national and international policy makers, consumer governments, international coffee roasters and consumers.
The couple says they have come a long way since the coffee crisis, which threatened their livelihoods and caused a shock to the country's coffee economy. Gone are the days when they had to sell whatever meager assets they had to put food on the table. "Our living conditions have improved significantly," says Aster. "As a mother, I dream of even better things for my family, but right now, I am secure knowing that my family is well fed, healthy, and that my children go to school".
It was just a little over a year ago that 238 coffee growers in Werka came together to form a primary cooperative under the Yirgacheffe Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union. Soon after Werka joined the Union, membership shot up to 300 when word got out that Oxfam America was launching a project to support coffee quality improvement by funding the purchase of an eco-friendly coffee washing station.
As a natural extension of its global campaign and advocacy work to help Ethiopian coffee growers earn better prices, Oxfam America is increasingly investing in coffee quality improvement, focusing on eco-friendly coffee processing. This is one component of Oxfam America's effort to help cooperatives produce quality coffee and generate additional premium by selling their beans on the international specialty coffee market. The Werka project is one of three such projects that Oxfam America has funded in three different coffee growing regions of Ethiopia.
The funding for Werka and the other two cooperatives was made available as an interest free revolving loan of about US$ 150,000 each to be paid back in five years to be re-invested in another cooperative, yielding much higher returns on initial donor investment. Financing the equipment with a loan makes cooperative members accountable for the loan repayment and solidifies the fact that they are the real owners of the investment.
By utilizing eco-friendly coffee processing, the cooperatives will not only increase their income as a result of selling washed coffee but also address environmental pollution related to the conventional coffee processing method. In the conventional method the coffee pulp and mucilage are removed from the beans and get discharged into nearby streams and ponds where they decompose and deteriorate the water quality of ponds and streams that the local community uses for household consumption. The eco-friendly method of processing reduces the amount of organic waste from the washing process and cuts water usage by 98.5 percent.
Members of Werka cooperative are eagerly awaiting the next coffee harvesting season to begin using their newly installed eco-friendly washing machine. They say having such a facility on site will allow them to kill two birds with one stone—increase their income by selling washed coffee and also in the process conserve the environment that is so crucial for their ability to continue producing high quality coffee. With minimum additional investment, the accumulated pulp and mucilage, which are organic by-products of washed coffee, can be converted into bio-fuel, fertilizer, and animal feed to boost the income of coffee growers; Oxfam America has plans to invest in such a pilot project in 2008.
"Producing high-quality coffee will give us the legitimacy to demand better price in the international market," says Berhanu, his fingers moving nimbly as he carefully picks the ripened coffee cherries and places them in a basket. "So, the way I see it, the Werka project represents the best combination of solutions—earn more for our hard work, while at the same time preserving the environment that we depend on for our livelihoods."
]]>In April, the Ethiopian government announced that 2.18 million people now need emergency food assistance. Citing the toll water shortages have taken on crops and pastureland, Ethiopia has asked donors for $67.7 million in aid to help it meet the nutritional needs of people in six of the country's nine states, as well as needs for emergency water provision, animal care, and seeds. The government has also said an additional 947,383 people would have their emergency needs met through Ethiopia's existing safety net.
Oxfam and the local groups with which it partners are responding to the crisis in the Somali and Oromia regions through a multi-pronged approach which not only addresses the immediate requirements families have for water, but also provides some help to reduce the risk of hardship during the next water shortage.
In Ethiopia, the daily chore of fetching water usually falls to women and children. In drought situations, when local sources such as shallow ponds or wells dry up, the trek for this essential resource becomes even more grueling.
The Liben Pastoralist Development Association, an Oxfam partner working in the southern part of the country, realized how acute the water shortage had become when it began receiving reports of women, some of them pregnant, walking more than 18 miles from their villages to the nearest water point. Laden with 20-liter jugs of water, some of those women miscarried. Others delivered their babies along the road.
In one part of the Somali region, Oxfam learned that people were selling jerricans of water for 30 birr, or about $3.20—a small fortune in a country where poverty is widespread. Some private businesses had even started importing water from Hargessa in Somaliland.
An assessment team that traveled to the Borena zone in southern Ethiopia reported in March that more than 17,000 animals had died since January in the 11 districts it visited. Herding families in the area depend on those animals—cows, goats, sheep, camels, donkeys—not only for food but also as a critical source of income. The team found that drought had prompted the closing of 29 schools in that area because there was no water for the students. And local officials told team members that many elderly residents were showing signs of malnutrition—a possible indication that the Borena people were using one of their traditional coping strategies. In their culture, the first priority of women during food shortages is to invest in the youngest generation: children eat before their elders do.
Families in these dry pastoral areas have developed a number of ways to cope with recurrent drought. Some of them have been able to keep reserves of hay on hand for their animals when the pasture dries up. Sometimes, people slaughter their cows and goats and use the meat to help feed their families. When they can, they hunt for wood to sell or to turn into charcoal. If families lose their entire herds, other families contribute animals to get a new herd started.
But over the years, the persistent crises have depleted the assets of many people and exhausted their ability to cope. For herders, their traditional means of managing are also running headlong into modern realities. For instance, the populations of both people and their animals are growing. The allocation of communal grazing areas to private investors and a system of regionalization is limiting the amount of land herders can have access to. And bush, once burned off by fires that have since been banned, continues to encroach on valuable pastureland.
One of the consequences of the current crisis is a plunge in the value of animals. Without enough water or pasture they become sick, and many die. The Gayo Pastoralist Development Initiative, an Oxfam partner, reports that the drop in value of livestock has been extreme in districts such as Dire and Dillo in the Borena zone.
And herders are facing a double hit. As they are earn less for their animals, they are simultaneously confronted with spiraling costs for grain—a food staple. Gayo notes that grain prices have jumped by almost 100 percent in some districts.
To help ease some of the severe hardships caused by the drought, Oxfam is working with four local groups to distribute water, provide needy animals with feed and veterinary care, and rehabilitate a series of local ponds so they can provide water in the future.
With support from Oxfam, the Liben Pastoralist Development Initiative's plans have called for providing drinking water to 6,000 people in two areas in the Liben District of the Oromia region's Guji Zone. The water is being trucked in from wells about 28 miles away and stored in four large tanks—and providing enough to allow each person about 4 gallons a day.
The Liben group is also transporting hay and a wheat-bran feed into the region to help shore up the strength of the animals on which people depend. But in an indication of how challenging it can be to work in remote areas, the nearest place Liben can find the necessary fodder is Addis Ababa, Ethiopia's capital, more than 370 miles to the north.
In the Dillo and Dhas districts of the Borena Zone, Action for Development is restoring three wells that typically serve 4,000 to 5,000 head of livestock each day. But because of the drought and shrinking water supplies elsewhere, the number of animals relying on water from these sources could double. The plan calls for the purchase of generators and sub pumps to get these wells running at maximum efficiency.
Like the Liben group, Action for Development is also trucking water in to Dillo and Dhas to help more than 5,000 people with access to a clean supply. The trucks are transporting the water from wells up to 34 miles away.
An estimated 13,500 people and 2,500 head of cattle will benefit from a series of projects the Gayo Pastoralist Development Initiative is also carrying out with Oxfam's help, including the restoration of two ponds in the Borena zone. Ponds provide one of the central sources of water for animals in the area, but during long dry spells they dry up, especially if silt has made them shallow.
By hiring local people to deepen the ponds, Gayo is able to provide families with an important source of income while also helping them to increase the holding capacity of these critical water sources.
"Rehabilitation of ponds during the dry season tremendously increases their capacities and enables them to serve for a longer period of time during drought," said Gayo in its grant application to Oxfam. Gayo pointed to its successes with three ponds in the Moyale area during the 2006 drought.
"The three ponds rehabilitated in response to the drought have still enough water and serve the community at the moment," Gayo said.
]]>In the area near Dubluq, Borena clans have wells with earthen ramps leading their cows down to flat areas with mud troughs so their animals can drink water passed up, bucket by bucket, by teams of men in a vertical chain, all singing to keep rhythm. These traditional eela wells, also called singing wells, are crucial in the dry season, and the clans have a schedule for which herds can access the wells on different days.
One of the wells near Dubluq is a bit special. The Negelle well has a wider entry ramp leading to a large flat surface surrounded on three sides by concrete troughs and a large reservoir. Dida Ollo, leader of the Maleu Gida sub clan, stands next to the Negelle eela and smiles, showing his impossibly straight, white teeth. "My clan and my community are overjoyed," he says as his clan members pass water up to the troughs in preparation for several herds expected that afternoon. "Imagine," Ollo says. "We can water up to 1,600 cattle in a day. With our old eela we could only take care of much fewer cattle."
The contrast with the older traditional wells is clear: In some of the older wells the herders stand precariously on a rickety, makeshift wooden ladder, passing the water up to an earth trough about 15 feet long. Each day they must create a mud out of water and dust from a termite mound to line the trough to reduce seepage. It is more work to serve fewer cows: About 15 cows can drink at one time. The neighboring Negelle well can serve 70 cows at one time, and has a steel ladder and platform system on which the herders stand securely passing the water buckets up and down.
Dida Ollo's clan asked Oxfam America's partner in Dubluq, Action for Development (AFD), to help them rehabilitate their traditional eela. Clan members donated their labor, sold cows to buy materials, and worked with AFD to optimize the design. Oxfam America contributed a grant for part of the cost.
Just enlarging the entry ramp made a huge difference, decreasing the angle and widening the width from two to 13 meters. Nasir Tonea, the construction foreman for the project with AFD, says "Before we leveled the entrance, it was really steep. And only one cow at a time could enter. After they drank, they big cows had trouble getting out, we would have to get behind and push. Now we can have 70 cows leaving to one side so they can let another herd of cows come down—they let them in because they can see they are thirsty," he says. "They have better manners than most people on the roads nowadays."
Dida Ollo says the rehabilitation made a huge difference. "The difference between the old and new well is like night and day." He says they sometimes allow other clans to water their cattle at the Negelle well when the other nearby traditional wells can't cope with the demand in dry times.
Next to the Negelle well there is a plaque that reads, "Dubluq well rehabilitated with the partnership of the local community, Oxfam America, and Action for Development." Now 68, Dida says this is part of his legacy: "When I pass away future generations will know we accomplished this together." It's important to him because it enshrines his participation in important Borena traditions. "There are two sacred things in Borena life," Ollo explains later at his house. "The first is to raise a girl and give her hand away in marriage. The second is to bring the clan together to work on our eela."
]]>The reservoir is at the base of large, steep hill, more like a small mountain really. At the top is a spring, from which water flows through pipes to the pond. It was constructed three years ago by a nearby organization called Action for Development with support from Oxfam America. Before then Jarrso's clan members had to herd their cows up the steep hill, the only means to get water in the dry season. Every day cows would expire on the path up to the spring.
"During the dry time there is no grass to eat," Jarsso says. "They could not climb, so we pushed them up, and some would die." There were years in which more than 10 a day would die on that hill.
Piping the water down the hill helps tremendously. More cows can access the water, the herders and their families can retain more of their wealth and can better survive the dry season, and they get clean, fresh water to drink and cook with, and wash their clothes in.
But the reservoir does not help one ongoing problem: herders are reporting that good pasture for grazing their cattle is harder and harder to find, and not just in the dry season. Jarsso and others in his clan say there are three main reasons for the disappearing pasture:
"The Borena people have many different methods for coping with drought," says Abera Tola, director of Oxfam America's program in Ethiopia. "But some of these bushes are new to them, and the increase in tick infestation may both be related to changes in the climate. We want to research this to find ways to help them."
Bilalo Jarsso said the Borena are trying to survive despite these challenges, and are accustomed to traveling two to three days at a time looking for decent pasture.
"We used to find grass somewhere," he said. It is becoming more and more difficult now.
Oxfam America's partner AFD is helping herders take a more active approach, teaching the Borena to manage their range land more aggressively and actually clear away the encroaching bushes to improve the pasture for grazing. This would be particularly crucial in the dry season, says Tolusa Kemaio, a project officer for AFD.
"The dry season is a very serious time here," he says. "People really struggle, and they can't just slaughter their animals to survive."
]]>The next day another farmer nearby will have a turn, but there is enough to go around. Dalacha says that he now has no water worries—even in January, a dry time of year. "We used to have to wait for rain, but now we use water whenever we want, and there is no difference between the rainy and dry season." Dalacha, 40, is well over six feet tall and rail thin, but still looks powerful and projects an energetic attitude. He is married to Safiye Bediya, and they have eight children between the ages of four and 20.
Dalacha says his income has increased and he is more secure now. He built a new concrete house next to their traditional mud and thatch round house with the money now coming in from vegetable sales. And Dalacha says all his children can now go to school. "Before, I had a shortage of income. Now it is no trouble to keep them in school with everything they need."
A steady supply of water for the families in Shasha Korke has been a big improvement. It came about through a project by the Ethiopian agency Center for Development Initiatives (CDI) funded in part with a $75,000 grant from Oxfam America starting in 2005, when dry weather in the scenic Rift Valley south of Ethiopia's capital, Addis Ababa, was causing serious hardship for farmers, who were growing primarily sugar cane for a cash crop. Sugar cane is difficult to grow: it needs a lot of water and does not contribute to the nutritional needs of small-scale farmers like those in Shasha Korke. This left many families there suffering from malnutrition if their crop yields were low, and income fell off.
Before the irrigation system was improved, the community had traditional earthen canals that fed water from the Dedeba Tina river to the farm plots, but it was inefficient. "There was a lot of water loss," says Dalacha. "It seeped into the soil, and could not reach the fields. Sometimes it would get clogged with grass and silt, so we could not irrigate our fields properly." CDI's proposal was ambitious, but straightforward: with help from the community famers, it built new irrigation channels lined with cement and gravel, with outlets leading directly into the small farms. CDI also built foot bridges over the channel, and gates to manage the flow of water to the different members of the community. The 1.8 kilometer channel (1.2 miles) was finished in 2006 and is now directly helping 68 households cultivating 25 hectares (61 acres) of farmland.
Woya Shakule, the 34-year-old chairman of the Shasha Korke water user committee, says all the farmers played a role in the project. Each bought shares in the irrigation system to help maintain it. The water users agreed on guidelines for sharing the water and maintaining the system, and helped CDI ensure the new channels would meet their needs. The committee organized training for the farmers, and distributed seeds to help them transition from growing sugar cane to vegetables, which they could eat as well as sell. "Most of them produced a crop once a year, but now they are harvesting twice a year," Shakule says, while standing next to one of the main irrigation channels, thought which water quietly gurgles "We see big changes here, and they are really life-changing."
Mekonnen Koji, CDI's project manager in the Shashamene area, says it is easy for him to see an improvement in the health of the children. They used to be malnourished, and the mothers looked worried. Now he says the children are healthier looking and more active. "It is vivid, the changes in the faces of the children," he says.
Safaye Bediya, wife of Dedefi Dalacha, agrees. "My children would catch cold easily," she says, noting that before the irrigation system was improved they could not grow enough food to eat and had to buy vegetables from the market. It was expensive and the quality was not as good as the fresh produce they now grow themselves. As their diet improved, so did the health of her children.
"Now they are healthy and happy," she says.
]]>His list of products is impressive. He grows cabbage, beets, carrots, onions, as well as coriander, fenugreek, and basil.
Like many others in the area, Mulugeta used to grow sugar cane, and was struggling to make it work. "The first year I had a good harvest," he says, "But after three years I could see it was declining every year." He switched to raising cattle, but had trouble keeping his herd healthy. Financial pressures pushed him to raise khat, a mild stimulant that can be harvested three times a year that is always in demand. It looked more attractive than sugar cane, which could only be harvested annually. Growing khat meant much-needed income for his family, but he was determined to find a way to grow food crops that are nutritious, but also bring a decent profit.
"I was just wondering what to do when CDI (Center for Development Initiatives) came and gave me seeds for carrots, beets, onions, and carrots," says Mulugeta. CDI also helped him start growing enset—nicknamed "false banana"—a starchy staple in a neighboring southern region of Ethiopia that looks like a large banana tree.
Although Mulugeta and many others harvested their first crop at the same time and had trouble finding markets at first, this has improved as has his income. Thanks to the steady water supply and hard work, his farm is prospering. He now believes he can increase his monthly net revenues from 6,000 birr to 20,000 birr ($640 to $2,100).
Mulugeta's next big move is to grow apples: he is one of six farmers in the area working with CDI experimenting with trees from Spain. Apples are a rare fruit for Ethiopia, and could fetch a handsome price. "If I can transform my farm into an apple farm it would be good for me and the community," he says. "I want to be shoulder-to-shoulder with other big apple producers in the world economy. This would be good for the economy of our country."
Mulugeta's ambition arises partly from a sense of responsibility. He says that since CDI and Oxfam America were able to help him, he feels obligated to put in a good effort for the opportunity. It's his personal philosophy: "If someone gives me something, I have to match it nine-fold," he says, making sure that his own labor and other contributions are worth nine times any aid he receives.
"I know that others want us to have a better life," Mulugeta said sitting under the shade of a tree near his enset field. "I will plant everything they give me so I can prove the money for this project did not go to waste."
]]>Oxfam America was selected as one of only three organizations in the campaign based on input from the eBay Community. Funding from the campaign will support Oxfam?s work to: increase the number of people in rural areas of Ethiopia and Zambia who have access to clean water and sanitation; provide access to new, safer water supplies through upgrades to existing water sources; provide latrines for communities and schools; and train communities on how to manage the equipment and sustain the water supplies.
?The Community Gives campaign is an exceptional opportunity to raise awareness of Oxfam?s work in bringing clean water to poor communities,? said Raymond C. Offenheiser, president of Oxfam America.
?This initiative will make a significant difference in the communities Oxfam serves. Most of us take for granted the easy access we have to clean, safe drinking water and basic sanitation. In the communities we are working with, clean water and basic sanitation can prevent disease?it could mean a child makes it to her fifth birthday and gets to go to school.?
The goal of Community Gives is to encourage the eBay Community to make a donation to the nonprofit that inspires them, and then spread the word about the campaign. eBay Foundation kicked off the campaign by giving Oxfam a grant of just over $325,000. To help encourage giving, eBay Foundation will also give an additional dollar for every person who gives and waive all donation-related fees, so 100 percent of donations will go directly to the nonprofits.
?We are proud to launch the Community Gives campaign and work with an excellent organization like Oxfam,? said Julie Vennewitz-Pierce, program manager for eBay Foundation. ?The campaign will help Oxfam supply clean, safe water to tens of thousands of people in Zambia and Ethiopia.?
Through Community Gives, Oxfam is tapping into the power of online philanthropy thanks to a critical resource eBay Foundation is providing?an engaged Community eager to support concrete, on-the-ground projects that help solve critical social issues.
Anyone who wants to get involved in Community Gives can by donating through PayPal or buying or selling through eBay Giving Works. They can also join Oxfam America?s eCommunity and help spread the word about the campaign by using some of the tools on the website.
]]>And they're exactly what Oxfam America and its local partner, the Gayo Pastoralist Development Initiative, hoped to spot when, together with the Harvard Humanitarian Initiative, they piloted an innovative early warning system for the region. Now just beyond its first six-month trial period, the system is designed to track changes in local conditions that could signal the advent of hardship for people—and get them help before the problems spiral out of control. The program is targeting 21,346 people scattered in the villages of Tuka, Arganne, Danbii, and Mudhi Ambo.
Oxfam and its partners started this initiative following a devastating drought in 2006 that left more than 60 percent of the livestock dead in some pastoral areas. The drought was accompanied by conflict that forced the displacement of many people.
How does a disease with no name in a remote and dusty part of Ethiopia find its way onto the radar screen of an international aid group a third of the way around the world? Through a lot of hard work.
It starts with data collectors—four of them, hired by Gayo—with strong legs and the commitment to make a monthly trek to five far flung households in each of the four villages. Sometimes, the data gatherers, who are all women, will walk a full day to reach the households that are participating in the program. Selected by Gayo, the households represent a range of prosperity, with some better off than others.
And it's the women in those households that the data collectors have come to see—because they are the ones with the hard facts about the well-being of their families. The women are available most of the time while the men are away, traveling with livestock in search of pasture and water. Out and about in their villages, the women have been keeping mental tabs on what's been happening with others, too.
How much water seems to be in the ponds and streams this season compared to last? Are there more cases of diarrhea in the village this month—or less? How many meals a day are children getting? And how about the adults?
"Women know it all," said Miriam Aschkenasy, Oxfam's public health specialist who helped to develop the program, including those questions. They are designed to reveal critical information that can paint a comprehensive picture of a community's health. And they give the women a way to voice the knowledge they have of their community and local environment.
"The women make sure they're informed about what is happening in their villages. They talk to other women in anticipation of the data collectors' arrival," said Aschkenasy.
"The community saw this program as having a lot of value," added Emily Farr, Oxfam America's deployable humanitarian officer who, with Aschkenasy, recently made a field visit to Ethiopia. "Never before has someone come to their houses to collect information on them. It makes them understand people are concerned about what's affecting them. It makes them feel valued."
The data collectors spend 20 to 30 minutes at each of the five houses on their list, and plot the answers to 24 questions on a visual analog scale—a tool that gauges attitudes and perceptions that cannot be easily measured. And in this case, it's particularly useful in gathering data from people who may not be able to read. It's also easily convertible for charting on a graph—from which the trends then become visible.
"We are using scientific methodology to convert feelings into comparable data," said Aschkenasy. "That's what makes this cutting edge."
Once the collectors return home with their data—about malaria and milk production, plantings and harvests, livestock deaths and births—Gayo compiles it, along with anecdotal comments gleaned from the villagers as well as statistics gathered from district markets and health posts, and from the Oxfam office in Addis Ababa the material gets emailed to Boston.
"One of the things important to me is that this early warning system is based on evidence," said Aschkenasy. "That increases your ability to do monitoring. It also lets you know that the programs that follow are based on real information, rather than conjecture, and can be sharply focused."
For instance, said Farr, if there is a problem with food availability, this kind of tracking system will help aid groups, local partners, and the communities themselves develop solutions that address that problem very specifically.
In meetings with community elders about the early warning system, they told Oxfam staffers that changes in local conditions occur seasonally—or every three months. They agreed that it would be useful to analyze those changes on a quarterly basis. Regular analysis would allow them to pool their resources and develop timely solutions to their problems.
Community elders also said that they could use the data to address ongoing issues, too, such as with the quantity and quality of water available for villages.
"One solution is to reduce the distance to water by digging more ponds and building cisterns," said one of the elders. "We can contribute the manpower and may ask for small inputs like cement."
But for now, what about those camels?
Nazareth Fikru, Oxfam America's regional humanitarian coordinator based in Addis Ababa, said that data gathered from the communities around Moyale show that about 189 of these highly prized animals have died in the last six months.
"The disease was initially reported in May, 2005 in Afar—eastern Ethiopia—some two years ago and gradually expanded to other pastoral areas like the Somali region and the Borena area of Oromia," said Fikru. "Some research is going on by the ministry of agriculture and rural development together with the Food and Agriculture Organization, but so far, no information about the causes or controls has been shared."
Oxfam is not planning to address the camel illness itself, but the fact that it has showed up in the data-gathering will help the organization and Gayo stay alert to the problem and the effect it could have on the overall health of the communities they are working with.
]]>That's the lesson Tadesse Meskela, an Ethiopian coffee activist, offered to a crowd of Boston University during a stop on his Oxfam-sponsored seven-city tour to raise awareness about the gross inequities in the global coffee trade and to promote "Black Gold," a new documentary about that industry.
In a small but packed auditorium, Meskela walked the students through the maze of market factors that cut coffee farmers out of their fair share of profit for a commodity that's worth, by some accounts, $80 billion a year in retail sales.
Converting Ethiopian currency into dollars, one student quickly calculated the true cost of that imbalance: What farmers sell for pennies a pound, large coffee roasters can command $14.
"That's a little more than 100 times what the farmer gets," said the student.
Getting more of those profits into the pockets of farmers is the main objective of the Oromia Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union (OCFCU)—a 90,000-member organization with which Oxfam America has worked for four years. Meskela is the union's manager and the "star" of "Black Gold," which explores the links between the multinational coffee corporations and the poverty that plagues so many of Ethiopia's coffee growers.
Across the country, about 15 million people rely on coffee for income. Fluctuations in its global price leave growers struggling to feed their families and send their children to school—a luxury many simply can't afford.
Membership in the union helps farmers tap into the "fair trade" market which guarantees them a higher price for their beans—sometimes three times what local dealers and exporters offer. Fair trade rules also ensure that some of those higher earnings are set aside to improve the farmers' communities through the construction of schools, health clinics, and clean water supply systems.
Founded in 1999, OCFCU has already facilitated the construction of four new schools, 17 extra classrooms, four health clinics, and three new water supply systems. Every cup of fair trade coffee consumers here in the United States drink will help improve even more the lives of farmers scattered through the cool, green hills of Oromia.
But what surprised Meskela most as he traveled from Boston to Madison—with stops in New York City, Washington, D.C., Nashville, Chicago, and Milwaukee—was how little people really knew about the brew that gets them up and going in the morning.
"What I noticed was 95 percent, and above, do not know where coffee comes from," said Meskela. "They don't know the life of the person behind the cup." It's that farmer—laboring hard in an industry dominated by a market that puts the needs of growers last—that Meskela wants consumers to understand and appreciate.
"We have to create connections with producers—and awaken all Americans," he said.
Meskela has a deep affinity for coffee growers and the hardship that defines their days. From the Oromia region himself, he grew up in a large farming family. But unlike many other farm children, Meskela got to go to school—as did every one of his siblings.
"My father is unique," said Meskela with pride. "He has sent all of his children to school. He was the first person to send a girl to school in the 1950s from our Oromo culture. If all of us had stayed on the farm we would have been poorer and poorer because the land would be shared among 13 of us."
Instead, among his brothers and sisters he now counts two engineers (civil and electric), an accountant, two secretaries, a draftswoman, and a high school principal. Meskela himself graduated from college with a degree in agricultural economics.
While some family members are still on the farm plowing fields of a grain called teff, education has offered his brothers and sisters a range of opportunities that Meskela would like to see others be able to take advantage of, too. Making trade fair is the first step in that direction—and educating consumers about the links between their morning cups of coffee and the growers who produce the beans is critical.
"All of them say 'what shall we do?'" said Meskela, recounting the reactions he heard time and again after people watched "Black Gold" or heard him give a presentation. "The first thing you can do is buy fair trade coffee. And the second is support us in campaigning to get a better price."
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