Earlier this month, Ethiopian farmer cooperatives, coffee exporters, and government officials met with American and Canadian coffee companies in Long Beach, California to talk more about the trademark and licensing initiative.
The historic meeting at the Specialty Coffee Association of America conference represented the next stage in dialogue between Ethiopians and North American roasters, which started in Addis Ababa this February. There, roasters committed to help bring their peers to the table and Ethiopians agreed to begin building the program's infrastructure. Much was accomplished in just three short months. Getachew Mengiste, director of the Ethiopian Intellectual Property Office, told a standing-room-only crowd in Long Beach about recently completed training workshops for staff from embassies, farmer cooperatives, and exporting companies.
Ethiopia launched its coffee trademark and licensing initiative to give farmers more control over their world renowned coffee brands, strengthen farmers' negotiating position, and ultimately help them capture a greater share of their coffee's value. At the conference in Long Beach, the Ethiopians used their time with roasters to discuss the best ways to work together to put the program's "nuts and bolts" into place.
"We are working together for a common cause," said Mengiste as he opened the gathering. "This initiative should meet the interests of farmers to ensure that they get benefits from their fine coffee. The interests of our roaster partners should also be met. The whole idea behind this initiative is to connect our coffee farmers with the roasters."
Attendees agreed on the key points for discussion, which included ways that the coffee brands would be used on packages and labeling, joint marketing promotion strategies, guaranteeing quality, and expanding the network of participating roasters. Tadesse Meskela, manager of Oxfam partner, the Oromia Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union, opened the floor for discussion. As he stood in front of the room, Meskela thanked all of the participants and gave special acknowledgement to the roasters who have already committed to the project by signing a licensing agreement.
For two hours, participants discussed ideas, challenges, and opportunities for moving the trademarking initiative forward. The spirit of the conversation was collaborative with roasters giving the Ethiopians many points to consider when they return home and begin implementation. Participants took on a shared sense of responsibility for carrying out their individual roles in the process. As Dean Cycon, owner of Dean's Beans Organic Coffee Company, one of the most recent companies to sign a licensing agreement with Ethiopia, said, "Whatever we're creating together we want to protect."
It will take a lot of hard work to ensure that the trademarking and licensing initiative creates real change for Ethiopia's poor coffee farmers. But the second meeting of Ethiopian stakeholders and North American roasters ended with participants ready to take up the challenge.
"We have said that the farmers have the right to own their coffee brands," said Ashenafi Argaw of the Sidama Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union. "Now all of the stakeholders need to work very hard together to bring them the benefits."
]]>Ato Teshome Belayneh, the chairman of the surrounding area, stood tall in his worn and dusty suit, a regular mode of dress for Ethiopians where even in the most rural areas it is considered important to be well-dressed. He explained that prior to the installation of this pump, which brings clean drinking water from almost 100 feet below the surface, the women of the village collected water from a small river, which he pointed out about 500 yards to the west in a steep ravine.
As the women filled the containers, they would cover the opening with cheesecloth to strain the worms and other small parasites from the water. Ato Teshome pointed out that there were many other dangerous things that the cloth failed to stop, but people here had little choice as this had previously been the only source of water. Stomach illnesses and diarrhea were rampant.
These once common illnesses have now decreased in Neftegna as the people have a clean source of water thanks to Oxfam America and our partner OSRA.
As Ato Teshome puts it, "this is a rebirth for us."
The new pump has been turned over to the Water Users' Committee, a group of seven people from Neftegna who OSRA has trained to manage the device. The community considers this new source of water so valuable that it has instituted strict measures to ensure the pump functions long into the future and that the water does not run low.
The pump is only available for operation for about five hours a day—once in the morning and again in the evening—as there is concern that using it during the heat of the day will cause damage. There is also an age limit placed on pump use: No one under 18 is allowed even to enter the fenced area.
As the people were explaining the restrictions they have put in place to keep their pump in good condition we witnessed the value that they put on this important community tool.
A member of our group stepped around to try the pump. As he was unaccustomed to using a pump like this he raised the handle quickly, meeting less resistance than he expected. As the handle reached its upper limit, it clanked loudly, metal hitting metal. The collective gasp from all 40 people almost completely blocked the reverberation. It was a minor issue, not causing any harm to the pump, but the gasp of alarm was a clear indicator that the users of this pump normally treat it with the same gentle care given a newborn baby.
In order to quell the fears of the water running low, the community has agreed to limit water usage to about 26 gallons per day per household. This is all the water a family of five to 10 people will use for the entire day to drink, cook, wash, and bathe. This is less than the amount of water people in the United States generally use to take a shower. An average American uses between 80 to 100 gallons a day according to U.S. Geological Survey, which means that a family of 5 uses about 500 gallons a day—almost 20 times the amount that a family in Neftegna uses.
While most Americans tend to take clean drinking water for granted, the people of Neftegna do not. Each household, 66 in total, contributes about 22 cents a month towards the upkeep of the pump.
The men that were still gathered as out visit drew to a close explained that people who live a two-hour walk away are coming to use the village pump, and while the people of Neftegna are willing to share what they have, they would much rather see the burden of their neighbors eased with the building of pumps in their respective villages.
Oxfam America has already funded the building of 10 pumps in Bacho, but clearly many more are needed.
]]>“This is an important step for Ethiopia as it engages with coffee companies on its innovative trademarking initiative designed to help alleviate poverty,” said Raymond C. Offenheiser, president of Oxfam America. “This initiative will help create real change for the 15 million Ethiopians dependent on the country’s coffee sector.”
According to Ethiopia and Starbucks, the agreement is expected to be finalized and signed by both parties in May. More details regarding the content of the agreement will be available once it has been signed.
"Oxfam eagerly awaits the final agreement and long overdue recognition of these coffees as unique and valued products of Ethiopia's coffee farmers," continued Offenheiser.
In the meantime, Ethiopia’s trademarking project has continued to gain momentum. The licensing team heading the project has begun to roll out an implementation plan for the registered trademarks in Canada, the European Union, the United States and Japan. A marketing plan aimed at further raising the profile of the Sidamo, Harar and Yirgacheffe brands on the international market is also underway.
The goal of the trademarking initiative is to help Ethiopia’s coffee sector—including farmer cooperatives—earn more from its valuable coffee brands, increase its negotiation leverage through control of the marks, and ultimately increase the price received for its best coffees. Ethiopia will be able to protect the valuable reputation of its coffees and enable poor growers to capture a greater share of the retail price.
In October 2006, Oxfam launched an international public campaign to encourage Starbucks to engage with Ethiopia directly on the issue of the country’s ownership of its specialty coffee names. Over 93,000 supporters have called on Starbucks to sign a licensing agreement with Ethiopia.
]]>By seeking the right to control its most famous coffee trademarks—Sidamo, Harar and Yirgacheffe—Ethiopia aims to work with the worldwide coffee industry to build the value of its coffee ‘brands’ and give its farmers a greater share of the retail value of their coffees. Coffee is among the most valuable commodities in Ethiopia, one of the world’s poorest countries, and these rights could help lift farmers and their families out of poverty.
“Starbucks continues to break its promises to the poorest communities,” said Seth Petchers, coffee lead in Oxfam International’s Make Trade Fair campaign.“The company has branded itself as a friend to poor farmers. But when these farmers seek the right to own their coffee brands and compete in the global market on an even playing field, Starbucks refuses to support them.”
In mid-February, Starbucks issued a joint release with the government of Ethiopia stating that the company would no longer stand in the country’s way to obtain trademarks. However, since that meeting, Starbucks has balked at signing a voluntary licensing agreement and has refused to engage in good-faith discussions with Ethiopia about the trademarking initiative.
Ethiopia has continued to garner support for this project, most recently from the deputy secretary-general of the twenty-member Common Market for Eastern and Southern Africa at the East Africa Fine Coffees Association meeting in Addis Ababa last month. Ethiopian farmers, in a recent statement from the Ethiopian Fine Coffee Farmers Cooperative Unions and Exporters, accused Starbucks of dodging the real issues and encouraged the coffee chain to sign the licensing agreement.
In a Valentine’s Day memo to staff leaked to the public in February, Starbucks Chairman Howard Schultz stated that changes that have come with rapid growth and success also, “have lead to the watering down of the Starbucks experience.” Earlier this month, Schultz told Fortune magazine that "Starbucks is the quintessential people-based business... Everything we do is about humanity."
“If Starbucks is seriously committed to humanity, it needs to change its position and agree to negotiate a licensing agreement with Ethiopia that respects its ownership of its unique coffee trademarks,” said Petchers. “Starbucks has retailed these Ethiopian coffees for as much as $26 a pound yet most Ethiopian coffee farmers struggle to survive on one dollar a day.”
At its Annual General Meeting today, Starbucks is celebrating growth of more than 20 percent in net revenues over the past year. Meanwhile, coffee farmers struggle to meet their most basic needs.
“Is this the best that a company that is all about humanity can do?” asked Petchers. “It’s time for Starbucks to allow Ethiopian coffee farmers to find their way out of poverty instead of continuing to stand in their way.”
]]>Billed as the first summit between the Ethiopians who produce the coffee and the US and Canadian companies that buy it, this week's meeting showcased real unity and support for Ethiopia's efforts. Ethiopia has asserted ownership of the names of its coffees so that it can increase the coffees' value, gain more leverage, and receive an equitable price in the market. Already some companies, such as Green Mountain Coffee Roasters, have agreed to work with Ethiopia on this initiative. Their representatives showed their support by attending the meeting.
"Now that the trademarking work is becoming fruitful, many in the specialty coffee market are happy with us and accept that we want to increase our negotiating power and ensure greater returns to small farmers," said Tadesse Meskela, manager of Oxfam partner, the Oromia Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union.
As the three-hour meeting unfolded, I was struck by the achievements already realized by the Ethiopians. It was clear that everyone in the room was ready to work together to help Ethiopian farmers get an equitable share of the coffees, which have sold for as much as $26 a pound in the US. The stakeholders and coffee companies left the meeting with a "To Do" list and a promise to meet again in the coming months.
It was a tremendous achievement for Oxfam's partners, three farmer cooperative unions, to sit side-by-side with private exporters, government representatives, and foreign coffee buyers, discussing ways to improve the livelihoods of Ethiopia's coffee farmers.
During the meeting, I had the opportunity to speak about the tremendous global support Ethiopia's efforts have garnered. Since October, more than 90,000 Oxfam supporters from around the world have voiced their solidarity for Ethiopia's initiative. Through their efforts, these supporters have sent a clear message that coffee companies must recognize the legitimate right of countries and farmers to use the names of their coffees and their unique reputations to compete in global markets and realize higher incomes.
While much attention has been paid to Starbucks's unwillingness to recognize this right, I left the meeting feeling inspired. The conversation has moved from whether Ethiopia has the rightful ownership of its coffee names to how the coffee industry should recognize those rights and act accordingly.
As Ashenafi Argaw of Oxfam partner, Sidama Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union, said, "Our farmers deserve a better price than they are getting right now. Let's plan and discuss ways to get them better benefits from the market."
]]>For them, the fact that they were playing soccer together at all was what counted.
A few short years ago, school boys in Moyale—a southern Ethiopian border town where bursts of violence plague the region—would never have joined a game that teamed children from one ethnic group with those from another. The Gabra, the Borena, the Guji, the Gari—they just didn't get along.
But with assistance from Oxfam America, that dynamic has begun to change. The agency helped to plant the seed of peace at the Moyale Primary School, and its roots are now spreading throughout the district.
Through a series of three grants, Oxfam helped the Moyale Primary School, which now serves 3,000 students in grades one through eight, construct three new classroom buildings and equip them with materials, including books and computers. In conjunction with that, school officials launched a massive public education campaign, targeting parents in particular.
The message? Ethnic conflicts coupled with cultural expectations about the limited role of girls had caused enrollment in the school to plummet. A divided administrative system, with different ethnic groups aligned with each of the two divisions, had also left the school severely short of funds. The end result meant a generation of students was at risk of not being able to get the education that is so vital to their future success.
The solution? Improve the school facilities with the understanding that the buildings—and the opportunities they represent—belong to all the students and their families, regardless of their ethnicity. The school would also serve as a place for conflict resolution.
The parents embraced the idea.
"They are beside us today," said Tsegaye Desta, who recently became the coordinator of the school system after serving as the principal of the Moyale Primary School during its transition. "Before the coming of Oxfam America, the enrollment of students was very low. Now it's very high."
Work has helped pull the families together around a common cause. About 25 percent of the new construction on the school grounds has been carried out by community members, including students and their teachers.
"When they do it together, they build not only construction, they build peace," said Desta. "When there is peace and unity, it is possible to do a lot."
A small tree nursery inside the school compound has also served as a place for students to get to know each other.
"They forget about conflict. When they work in the nursery, they discuss things as friends would," added Desta.
With those new friends kicking up clouds of dust on the soccer field behind him, 15-year-old Tegalu Sale, took a break from the game to describe how things have changed since Oxfam began helping the school.
"Before the construction, there was no sitting place and not enough books," he said, sweat beading on his forehead. "We ran to the class to get a bench. The others did it too. Then, things happened."
And now?
"The conflict is minimized—and that's why we're here exercizing together," Sale said.
Besides the new construction, which has allowed class sizes to drop from as high as 120 students down to 50, the school has incorporated discussions about peace-building into its curriculum.
Teacher Aschelew Mokinnin doesn't have to look far for material for his students.
"Mostly we take the surrounding problems as an example, and the solutions—they're always discussing (those) face to face," said Mokinnin.
"There is great improvement," added Mulu Seba, an eighth-grade teacher. "The students' interaction is very nice. It's positive."
And that bodes well for students like Sale: His dreams stand a good chance of becoming true. "In the future, after I complete school, I will help myself and my family," he said. "I'd like to be a teacher or a master of a school."
]]>Tato Boru, 48 and the mother of five children, is a peacemaker. She leads the Moyale area women's peace council which Oxfam's local partner, the Research Center for Civic and Human Rights Education (RCCHE), helped to found.
Here, near the Kenyan border, many people make their living as herders. Droughts plague the region, and their consequences—shriveled pasture and water sources sucked dry—are particularly severe for families of herders and their animals who depend on those resources for survival. Tension over shortages can trigger disputes, as can concern about land demarcation lines drawn by the government. Add guns to the mix, and conflicts quickly turn lethal. Over the years, fighting in the area around Moyale has taken many lives.
One of several similar committees, the council Boru heads advocates for peaceful coexistence among the different ethnic groups in the region and helps mediate between them when conflicts start to simmer. There are also councils for young adults and village elders.
Giving an example of how her group works, Boru told about a recent dispute that erupted when a group of Somalis settled in a nearby village predominantly occupied by Gabra.
"There was a stone attack and there were a few gun shots, but no one was hurt. We felt it was time for our intervention," she said. "We went...and told them that land is the gift of God and we all can share it."
Accompanied by members from the other two councils, the women urged the sparring groups not to resort to violence, but to engage in discussions first, and if that didn't work, to take the matter to court. In the heat of disputes like this, council members try to visit the troubled village at least once a week. As things cool down, they cut back their visits to once a month.
Raising awareness is one of the key objectives of the peace council, and something its members take on regularly in both formal and informal settings. Occasionally, the women will ask community officials to organize a gathering of local people at which the council will then make a presentation. Other times, community events, such as weddings, can serve as an opportunity for peace teachings.
Peace initiatives like these are helping women reclaim a degree of authority that was once theirs—an authority that gun-fueled violence has severely eroded. With RCCHE's help, women are now speaking out about the suffering armed conflicts shower on their families. They are finding a voice and sharing their burdens of loss and sadness.
"Before this, we weren't in a position to disclose our feeling about conflict. We simply suffered with it. But now, we've got a chance to speak on peace and work on it. Our awareness and participation bring change," said Boru.
"In the late '90s, there was an awakening to the value of traditional conflict resolution methods," said Muthoni Muriu, Oxfam America's director of regional programs. "That's when the role of women in peace building really came on stage."
It's a role that is rightfully theirs: Women bear the brunt of hardship when violence rips through a community, leaving husbands dead, homes in ashes, livestock looted.
"They lose fathers, brothers, and sons," said Boru, seated on a low stool in the cocoon-like quiet of her tukul. "They take care of the wounded, the children, the animals. Even if they don't die, they have to shoulder so many of the burdens...the horror."
There is acknowledgement among men in this patriarchal culture that women bring something unique to peace work.
"They are better than men," said Boru Roba, a man and the leader of a peace committee for elders.
"Women can play both a fueling role and a cooling role in conflict," added another man, Galma Roba, a representative for traditional leaders. "If men get initiated for conflict and women interject, the men might change their minds."
Highlighting the awful consequences of conflict—the death, the destruction—against the broad benefits of peace is at the core of the women's strategy. It's an argument few can refute.
"When we try to sensitize them on the importance of peace, there is no man who opposes us," said Mako Dalecha, a mother of five children and a member of the peace council. "Peace—and rain—are the basis for life in our area."
]]>Following a traditional coffee ceremony featuring some of Ethiopia's finest coffees—Harar, Sidamo, and Yirgacheffe—the farmers said they wanted the opportunity to make more money off the coffees they cultivate, which command such high prices among consumers.
While Starbucks charges as much as $26 a pound for Ethiopian specialty coffees, Ethiopian coffee farmers get only 5-10 percent of that price. For this reason, Ethiopia has asked Starbucks to sign a trademark agreement that would give Ethiopia the ability to control the use of its coffee names, occupy a stronger negotiating position with foreign buyers, and capture a larger share of the market.
"Just because I'm a farmer, don't think that I don't understand what's happening in the global market," said Tadesse Terro, who traveled from Yirgacheffe to speak out. "I do listen to the radio and I know how much my coffee retails for overseas. The money I earn for my hard work does not come close."
More than 200 people came to the Sheraton hotel in Addis Ababa to attend the coffee ceremony. Government officials and diplomats joined community activists and farmers. Each person signed a petition asking Starbucks to honor its commitment to Ethiopian coffee farmers by recognizing the country's ownership of its coffee names.
One farmer, 85-year-old Gemede Robe, left his Abaya district hometown for the first time to attend the event. Unable to read and write, he signed the Starbucks petition with his fingerprint.
Robe became the face behind Ethiopia's trademark initiative late last year when Oxfam began using his photograph to publicize the campaign.
"Like any other human being, we Ethiopians hold our names very dear," Robe said. "If given the opportunity to speak with people at the big company (Starbucks), I would ask them why they're resisting us owning our coffee names. I am sure they know, as the whole world does, that our coffees are some of the best in the world. But why are they refusing to give us the recognition we deserve?"
Oxfam is part of a broad coalition calling on Starbucks to sign a trademark agreement with Ethiopia. More than 89,000 people in 70 countries have already joined the campaign. Earlier in December, activists from New Zealand to Scotland to the US demonstrated outside of Starbucks stores. The coffee ceremony in Addis Ababa represented the culmination of these global actions.
]]>Drought, flooding, internal conflict, and displacement of tens of thousands of people were among the many challenges I witnessed during the nine months I was in Oxfam America's Horn of Africa office. Through work with the humanitarian team, I saw firsthand the impact Oxfam can have on communities before, during, and after emergencies.
For a nation that is seen so often as a place of drought and famine, it was the rainy season from June to September that presented the most challenges.
Over those few months, Oxfam, partnering with the Ethiopian Red Cross, was a first responder to a clan conflict that left thousands of people displaced in the south of the country. Immediately following that, our humanitarian team was confronted by flooding throughout the country.
We responded quickly, traveling around the country, assessing the situation in different flood-affected districts and visiting camps to see what was needed by the displaced. Many of those at the temporary shelters had been evacuated by boat during the peak of flooding and left with virtually none of their belongings.
In other areas, flash floods had devastated communities, resulting in a disproportionate loss of women and children and a traumatized population. People were worried about their future, their children's education, and how long they would have to live in a temporary shelter.
In each area, Oxfam worked with our local partners and with other groups to tailor the most appropriate response. In Dire Dawa, a city that suffered many fatalities, Oxfam worked with the city administration to provide psycho-social support to more than 9,000 flood-affected people, while offering protection from assault to children, women, and others people from vulnerable groups. Recognizing that the needs in the community would be long-term, Oxfam helped rehabilitate schools and purchase school supplies to ensure the right to education would not be denied to those who had already lost so much.
In other areas where basic items were lacking, Oxfam provided blankets, soap, plastic sheeting for shelter, jerry cans for water, and cooking pots to meet the needs of families who had lost everything. Longer-term initiatives were also set up, including the provision of seeds for farmers, livestock vaccinations, and veterinary care for animals to ensure that people would be able to continue making a living.
As the floods continued, Ethiopia also faced an increasingly serious outbreak of acute watery diarrhea (AWD), a common result of poor sanitation. According to the United Nations, as of November 13, 38,007 cases of AWD and 404 deaths had been reported.
In addition to providing medical supplies, clean water, and non-food items, Oxfam partnered with the Harvard Humanitarian Initiative and deployed public health experts. Oxfam took it one step further, providing training to water committees, community leaders, and community members on precautionary and preventative measures as well as good hygiene practices. By training community leaders, Oxfam remained sensitive to the traditional community structures, using the most appropriate methods for maximum impact.
This is only a small piece of Oxfam's work over the time I was there and much of it still continues. There are still reports of flooding, and AWD continues to affect many. Security concerns around Ethiopia are increasing as early warning systems monitor the potential for upcoming drought.
I've been home for a month and still can't sleep at night. I wait for the sound of the planes at Addis Ababa's Bole International Airport, almost expecting them to land on my house. I wake myself up fighting with imaginary mosquito netting. When it rains I toss and turn, wondering if it's the beginning of a flood and what new challenges this will present.
But in typical Oxfam fashion, I'm ready to go back, to do more, see the incredible work that my colleagues do on the ground even in the most remote locations. Through my work with our Horn of Africa office, I saw people at their most vulnerable, forgotten by systems and institutions, who relied on Oxfam not only to save lives, but to preserve their dignity.
]]>Across Ethiopia, these are the images tied to cycles of drought that plague one of the poorest countries in the world. Most recently, a drought triggered a humanitarian crisis in early 2006 for more than 2.5 million people. Many of them were herders dependent on the rain to nourish pastureland for their animals—their central source of food and income.
Oxfam and the local organizations with which it works respond to these cycles of drought with both emergency assistance to ease the immediate suffering of people and their animals, and with programs aimed at longer-term solutions to address the region's severe water shortages and to improve the health of its livestock.
For example, in Afar, one of Ethiopia's northern regions, a water shortage in 2005 forced some people to walk up to four hours one way in search of the critical resource. Irregular and weak rainfall in the previous few years had caused pastureland to shrivel and water sources to disappear. About 90 percent of the people in Afar are herders, and many of their animals died as a consequence of the drought.
To help families survive, Oxfam and one of the local groups with which it works, the Afar Pastoralist Development Association (APDA), launched a project to truck water to three sites in Afar's Dubti district. The agencies set up 12 large tanks that could each hold 1,321 gallons of water. The trucks made daily deliveries to the tanks—the furthest of which was 70 miles from the well that provided the water.
Though only a temporary solution—and a costly one—the water trucking substantially relieved stress on the herders. Women who had been walking for eight to 10 hours to fetch water from a neighboring district had their trek cut to just a few kilometers.
In another area of Afar, Oxfam provided APDA with an $83,000 grant to offer veterinary care to 410,000 animals. The goal was to prevent the spread of common diseases such as Anthrax, Blackleg, and Pastereulosis.
More recently, in southern Ethiopia, Oxfam and another local partner, the Gayo Pastoral Development Initiative, worked on the restoration of a local pond so it could hold enough water to last between the sporadic rainy seasons. The pond is a central source of drinking water for the community's animals. As in Afar, many people in this part of the Oromiya region are herders.
The 2006 pond project did two things. It provided temporary work for local people hired to deepen the pond, thereby giving them a source of income to help tide them through the drought that was killing their animals. And secondly, the improvements will last into the future, ensuring that when the next drought comes the pond will be able to retain whatever limited amount of rain does fall.
Shortages of critical resources, such as water and pasture, can often spark conflict among different ethnic groups. A key part of Oxfam's work in parts of Ethiopia is peace-building—helping people find ways to resolve disputes without resorting to violence. Around the border town of Moyale in southern Ethiopia, for instance, Oxfam and the Research Center for Civic and Human Rights Education have established a series of peace councils whose job it is to intervene among sparring groups when tension begins to run high.
Elsewhere in Oromiya, Oxfam has been working with the Oromo Self-Reliance Association on a series of water supply projects that have improved the lives of 1,800 people in three communities about 50 miles southwest of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia's capital. Oxfam contributed $42,000 to underwrite the cost of wells, pumps, bathing sheds, and laundry stations.
Before these improvements, women in one of the communities, Gura, were walking up to three hours a day to fetch water—and often it was dirty. The parasites that occasionally contaminated the water sickened the children who drank it. Now, for families in Gura, clean, cool water is just minutes away. A nearby pump taps into an aquifer 200 feet deep.
The water supply projects have made such a marked difference in people's lives that neighboring communities are now asking officials to make similar improvements in their villages.
Easy access to clean water, through projects like these, is critical in stemming the poverty that affects so much of Ethiopia. And they are part of the global drive to meet the Millennium Development Goals—a series of international targets aimed at cutting by half by 2015 the number of people around the world who do not have access to clean drinking water.
]]>But proverbs can evolve over time and no longer be accepted as true. As communities become more educated, they may update their perspective. In one village in Oromiya, future proverbs may reflect the wisdom of educating women and the changes in communities when this occurs.
Like many places, Southwest Shewa in Oromiya has a history of practices that harm women. Traditional culture here often oppresses women, whether involving female circumcision (genital mutilation), early marriage, abduction, battery, or the inheritance of a wife upon the death of her husband.
What is called "culture" often reflects matters of convenience. The abduction of women for marriage has increased as the economy has declined, since husbands no longer want to pay for weddings and dowries. Inheriting a wife from a dead relative is another way of keeping land in the family. An economy of subjugation serves to control women who do most of the work in a household. And female circumcision is thought to dampen a woman's sexual desires, making her calmer, less willful and uncontrollable, less likely to "break everything." Some of these practices, especially female circumcision, are perpetuated by women themselves, concerned that their daughters will be unmarriageable unless they follow established tradition.
Yet one village in Southwest Shewa is starting to change such practices. Oxfam America, through a partner organization, the Oromo Self-Reliance Association (OSRA), began the reeducation process in Adaa Berga district eight months ago. Women and men in the communities are learning about women’s rights and initiating their own changes to harmful practices. This training is coupled with a livelihoods project, the establishment of a cereal bank run by women. The cereal bank, where grain is stored to be sold when prices are high, empowers women by providing them with some economic security and supplementary income. Women must take the civic education course as a condition of joining the women's cooperative. That powerful combination makes both the education and the cooperative more effective.
The Oxfam-supported women-run cooperative has named itself Qubse, which means "hope for the future." The women on the committee have all attended OSRA trainings, enabling them to become advocates in their own communities. But "hope for the future" is not limited to economic growth through the cereal bank. It means realizing the dream of a better life for each woman and her neighbor, a life of rights and respect for themselves and future generations.
The education has been an eye-opening experience for many people in the community. For some, the lessons have come late in life, but the whole community stands to benefit—especially the girls.
Mulu Gofta, a 45-year-old mother of four, is clear about what she hopes for the future. "One thing the good life means to me is educating your children. You support your daughters in education. First they will help me, then they will help the community, and in a few years they will help our people."
It is a sentiment that is echoed by others, most notably by 46-year-old Abebu Kebebe. For nearly a decade, Abebu has struggled as head of her household, a single mother widowed and left with nine children. Like many others in the community, she speaks of educating her daughter, saying, "That is the good life. That is the good hope for me. Also, this will be helping my neighbors and being an example."
Several years ago, Abebu forced one daughter into marriage at age 11. Her daughter left school, where she was in 4th grade. Now, after attending the OSRA training funded by Oxfam, Abebu has changed her outlook on early marriage and other traditional practices.
She says: "Now that I've had training on harmful practices—early marriage, female circumcision, abduction—I really regret doing what I did to my children. I married [them] off before I learned. Had I the chance again, I would not do it." Within months, Abebu has changed her opinions on the treatment of women, becoming an advocate for change. "I don't only stop at regretting what I have done," she says. "I share what I have learned with my neighbors, with relatives. I'm doing my best."
Abebu’s voice rings out proudly. She has met more than her share of hardships and is not afraid of change that will ease life for future generations of women. Her face framed in a black headscarf, she sits regally among the women, respected and liked by the community. Her shoes are unlaced and made of plastic, her skin is prematurely aged by the sun, and a life of labor stretches behind her. Ahead of her is a future that she can watch taking shape in other women in her own village. She is fearless, sharing her knowledge and teaching from her own experience—her own regrets.
It is through such discussion and sharing of information that what once was an oddity can become accepted. Twenty-five-year-old Meseret Nugussie, herself circumcised, speaks passionately about what she has learned and how she will apply her knowledge: "I know the problems now of circumcision. I have two girls and I will make sure it does not happen to them."
For Meseret's daughters, it is not too late. Major change in this village happens one daughter at a time.
Abebu now views her 8-year-old daughter Tiya differently than her previous children. With Tiya there is another chance, a hope for the future—Qubse. Abebu is now a different woman than a year ago, as she vows, "I will educate her until my last breath leaves." Perhaps one day that will be the village’s new proverb.
]]>Shito Massele, a 30-year-old mother of four, sits outside, her back against the warehouse wall. She is one of 96 members of the Qubse cooperative, a cereal bank run by women and funded by Oxfam. In a community where women previously were not consulted on business decisions, today they are ensuring economic and food security for themselves and their families. In fact, their work will turn a profit, generating additional income for their village.
"Before, the women were not even supposed to come near the scale," Shito says. "Now we can weigh things ourselves, our own grain." On this property, the women are not just weighing the grain; they are also fixing the price and deciding when and where to sell it. The land is theirs as well, donated by the village administration.
The cereal bank began nine months ago, with help from Oxfam America and OSRA and the encouragement of the village administration. Given a warehouse and seed money, the cooperative now controls the purchase, storage, and sale of grain.
In Oromiya region, where the project is based, having control of these basic factors has a huge impact. Before the cooperative was established, farmers were forced to sell most of their crops immediately after harvest to settle loans and taxes. During the rainy season, grain was scarce and prices rose. To feed their families, farmers were forced to take out more loans at high interest rates—sometimes simply to buy back their own crops, continuing the cycle of poverty.
The new cereal bank has enabled the community to store some of its harvest, setting grain aside for sale during the rainy season when the market price is high. The women thereby make a profit and ensure food stability for the next planting season.
The cereal bank's organizers stipulated that each prospective member had to attend civic education classes focusing on women's rights. The combined impact of both the classes and the cereal bank has been enormous.
Following the training, attitudes toward traditional practices harmful to women have changed noticeably. Furthermore, the women have proved themselves just as capable of earning an income as men are, thereby gaining the respect of the entire community. Indeed, many farmers prefer to sell their grain to the cooperative because of its reputation for honesty; the women will not try to cheat the farmer.
Being valued in the community is new to the women, but hard work is not. Before the cereal bank, women had little power, according to 46-year-old Abebu Kebebe. She recites her daily activities in a monotone, as if it is a chant she is used to repeating:
"For us it is clear that men are not stronger than us. Early in the morning, I clean the house and take care of the animals, travel two hours to collect murky water, return, cook, take care of the children. It is the oldest burden. Nothing is as simple as it seems. We do a lot of work the whole day, but [the men] move oxen and plow for an afternoon and come home. They move the animals and consider they moved a mountain."
Now, however, the women make all decisions involving the cereal bank, and are able to control their finances and ensure their own economic security.
The success of the Qubse cooperative has not gone unnoticed in neighboring villages. Three kilometers away, another group of women approached OSRA and their village administration, asking if they too could start a similar project. Dirre Dame, 67, chairwoman of the new cooperative, says it began because "we were encouraged by the group, so we organized ourselves, inspired."
The new cooperative, Association Gura, has only been around for a month, but the impact on the women is already noticeable as they plan what to do with the eventual profits. This is the first time these women have had any economic power. In a village where the nearest school is a three-hour walk away, women see this is the beginning of change and a better life for their children.
Some of the changes may seem basic: food, clothes, education for their children. Other women have bigger dreams, hoping to invest in land or animals some day. Right now, however, they focus on meeting the basic necessities, including a secure source of food. They plan eventually to build a small health clinic with the profits, noting that many women die in childbirth because there is no clinic nearby.
Regatto Bedhasa, a 57-year-old mother of six, explains what empowering women to take control of their lives has meant to her community:
"This becomes a hope for us," she says. "We can change our life without having been educated, without knowledge, without experience. We can change our situation."
]]>The discussions on the future of the International Coffee Agreement present an historic opportunity to address the ongoing crisis facing smallholder coffee farmers and farmworkers by contributing to sustainable coffee supply chains. At the 2nd World Coffee Conference in September 2005 several organizations presented the International Coffee Organisation and its delegates with the Carta de Salvador—the Salvador Declaration, which stressed the ongoing effects of the coffee crisis facing small-scale family farmers and farmworkers. This paper calls on International Coffee Organization members to support small-scale farmers and farmworker organizations by ensuring space for their direct participation in international debate, creating mechanisms that enhance the availability of market information to small-scale farmers, and maximizing opportunities to develop cohesive international strategies to provide technical support, access to credit, and direct access to markets.
]]>But I'm luckier than most. Just as the shortest, coldest days of winter hit Boston, the coffee cherries in Central America and Ethiopia begin reaching their peak red color. That's when I get to do my favorite work—visiting with Oxfam's coffee partners in Guatemala, Nicaragua, El Salvador, and Ethiopia. Each coffee harvest, I reconnect with the farmers who Oxfam America campaigns for back home.
Whenever I visit with coffee farmers and explain that I've come to learn more about their lives I'm always greeted warmly. These visits get me motivated, although, if truth be told, the visits aren't always uplifting.
This harvest I visited a farmers' cooperative in southern Ethiopia. Though I was welcomed by a group of 15 farmers and their families, the conversation was grim. The coop had fallen on hard times. Though the world price of coffee was up, the families I met were struggling to make it on $300 a year. In two hours there wasn't a single smile on anyone's face and I drove away struggling to imagine how these people were going to make it.
Just a few weeks ago I returned from Guatemala. The volcanic mountains surrounding Lake Atitlan create some of the best coffee-growing conditions in the world. Yet last October the farmers I met with saw Hurricane Stan wash enough mud and boulders down from these mountains to cover houses and wipe out coffee farms. I met people who lost it all and found myself struck by the fact that these farmers—people who were already struggling to get by—were struggling even harder this year because they were on the wrong side of geographic circumstance.
But both in Ethiopia and Guatemala I was amazed to find—as I always do—something inspiring. This harvest, my favorite experience was a walk with Don Antonio Cavajay Ixtamer, president of the cooperative La Voz que Clama en el Desierto (the voice that cries out in the desert). Antonio took my colleagues and me on a walk through his coffee farm where Antonio estimates 80 percent of his land was damaged. We saw coffee trees buried in infertile silt and stumps marking the places where healthy coffee trees once stood.
At the far end of Antonio's farm we emerged from the trees left standing into an area that looked like a dry river bed covered with boulders, some larger than Antonio. He explained that this area had been covered with coffee trees but was inundated with rocks and mud that slid down the mountain during Stan.
It was hard to fathom the force that was required to do such damage to the farm and I asked Antonio if he would ever be able to recover the land. Without missing a beat, Antonio replied "Si se puede. Si se puede." (Yes we can. Yes we can.), and proceeded to explain how he and his sons would remove the rocks, fill trenches, and build stone barriers to divert water before the rainy season begins in May.
Antonio hopes to have the recoverable portions of his land replanted within three years. I don't know whether he'll be successful, but if he falls short, it won't be for lack of motivation and hard work.
Some won't be successful—I know that. But so many of the coffee farmers I meet share the same spirit as Antonio that I've returned to Boston inspired and ready to do what I can to support them. As a result of my trip, Oxfam will provide farmers with $100,000 they can use to help rebuild after Stan.
Despite all the challenges I see, there are farmers who don't give up. As long as they're willing to fight, then I'm willing to fight, too. Some wins are big, some incremental, and sometimes we don't win at all. But as long as Antonio and other coffee farmers are saying "Si se puede" then "Si se puede" it is for me, as well. Yes we can. We have to.
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