The survey report, "In Her Own Words: Iraqi women talk about their greatest concerns and challenges," is being released on International Women's Day to highlight the daily hardships women are facing as a result of years of conflict.

The report also calls on the government of Iraq to begin a 'surge' of investment into reviving Iraq's social welfare and essential services sectors now that the security situation, although still fragile, has improved in recent months. Critical in this effort is robust support from the international community. Such investment would benefit the population as a whole, and perhaps none more than Iraq's at risk women, and in particular, women-headed-households.

"Women are the forgotten victims of Iraq. Despite the billions of dollars poured into rebuilding Iraq and recent security gains, a quarter of the women interviewed still do not have daily access to water, a third cannot send their children to school and since the war started, over half have been the victim of violence. And to add further insult more than three quarters of widows, many of whom lost their husbands to the conflict, get no government pension which they are entitled to," said Oxfam International Executive Director Jeremy Hobbs.

A large majority of women surveyed were not receiving any state support and had become so poor as a result of the conflict that many could not afford to provide their families with clean water, electricity, food, an education and medical treatment.

Oxfam and an Iraqi women's organization, Al-Amal Association, which conducted the survey last year, found that despite security gains some 60 percent of women said that their security and personal safety were was still their number one concern.

The majority of women surveyed also said that access to most services, including drinking water and electricity, was worse or the same in mid-2008 as it was in 2006 when levels of insecurity in Iraq were higher. A quarter of the women surveyed—24 percent—had no access to clean water. Nearly half of those who did have access to water—48 percent—said it wasn't suitable for drinking. Eighty-two percent said that access to electricity had worsened or had not improved since 2006.

"A whole generation of Iraqis are at risk. Mothers are being forced to make tough choices, such as whether to pay for their children to go to school and receive healthcare, or to pay for private power and water services. These are choices no mother should have to make, and they are not only threatening individual families. They are also threatening the future of Iraq itself," added Hobbs.

The survey also found that:

• Income was worse for 45 percent of women in 2008 compared with 2007 and 2006, while roughly 30 percent said it had not changed in that same time period;
• 33 percent of women had received no humanitarian assistance since 2003;
• 76 percent of widows were not receiving a pension from the government;
• Nearly 25 percent of women had no daily access to drinking water and half of those who did have daily access to water said it was not potable; 69 percent said access to water was worse or the same as it was in 2006 and 2007;
• One-third of respondents had electricity three hours or less per day; two-thirds had six hours or less; 80 percent said access to electricity was more difficult or the same compared to 2007; 82 percent as compared to 2006 and 84 percent as compared to 2003;
• Nearly half of women said access to quality healthcare was more difficult in 2008 compared with 2006 and 2007;
• 40 percent of women with children reported that their sons and daughters were not attending school.

The specific hardships that some of Iraq's most vulnerable individuals cope with on a daily basis, as told by them, have overwhelmingly gone unheard.

Oxfam and the Al-Amal Association, the Iraqi partner organization that conducted the survey in the five provinces of Baghdad, Basra, Kirkuk, Najaf and Nineveh, do not claim that the information they gathered from 1,700 respondents represents the situation facing all Iraqis, or even all women in Iraq. However, it does provide a disturbing snapshot of many women's lives and those of their children and other family members. The information presented in this paper was collected over a period of several months, starting in the summer of 2008.

Farmers in this area are typically informed that the government has conceded their land to the mine and that there is nothing they can do about it. Joanna knew better. "I know my rights, and I knew the law would take its course," she said.

Manu had attended a training session with Oxfam America's partner WACAM, where she learned that farmers can only be removed from their land if they have been compensated for it. This helped her make a strong argument. "I told the court that I was there before the company came and that it had not compensated me. So the company has no right to push me off this land."

"And I am still farming there," Manu said, smiling just a little. "I learned this in my training, and it is thanks to this new knowledge that I could do this."

WACAM's training not only helped Manu defend her own rights and farmland, but also helped her become one of the key organizers in her community, Dumasi, a small collection of mud and concrete houses piled on the side of a hill on the road between two larger mining towns, Prestea and Tarkwa. Farmers line the road selling tomatoes and yams as trucks and cars blast past in the dust and heat. The forest looms over Dumasi; dark green surrounds the hardwood trees and small fields that farmers hack out of the dense brush.

Open-pit gold mining has had serious negative effects ranging from housing damage caused by the explosives used to blast apart the pit to reveal ore, just over 300 yards from the village, to pollution of the local drinking water source, the Aprepre River, in 2004 and 2006. Again, training from WACAM has helped Manu and her neighbors push the company to respect their rights and its obligations.

After the mine spilled cyanide into the stream in 2004, Manu and her father immediately collected water samples and dead fish, and sent them to WACAM and Ghana's Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). "WACAM taught us that cyanide is extremely poisonous, but that exposure to the sun reduces its toxicity," Manu explained. "Usually when we complain to the EPA they take 10 days to come here, so that is why we had to get the samples right away." WACAM helped secure medical care for sick villagers and convened a press conference so the villagers could pressure the company to clean up the mess and compensate people affected by the poison. WACAM and another legal aid organization funded by Oxfam America, CEPIL, helped the citizens of Dumasi take the company to court, and they are awaiting a decision.

Efforts like this have helped the people of Dumasi force the company to halt the blasting that hurled rocks into their houses and cracked their foundations. For now the mining has stopped while the company tries to relocate the village—but first it has to negotiate a deal with a group of citizens who will no longer allow the government and mining company to take advantage of them.

The training WACAM provided for the people of Dumasi has helped them defend their rights, but it is also changing the way they think about themselves and others. Manu realized that she can be a leader, someone who can make a difference in her village and the world. "After this training, I can see how important education is, so I am enrolled in school," she said. "I want to be a political leader, maybe a member of parliament."

Manu's motivations and sense of responsibility go well beyond her village. "I see fellow human beings as I see myself, and if they can't defend their rights, then I have to help them," she said. "I am saving humanity."

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 it works

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."

Good evidence

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."

Next steps

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.

She was also furious. "This should not happen to us," she said later, referring to the residents of her village of Teberebie, which had been relocated to accommodate a new mining operation in the area. "What did we do wrong?"

Mr. Baidoo had been walking away from a confrontation between farmers and a military force when he was wounded. The protest arose after the military began blocking a road the farmers used to travel to their fields where they grow cocoa and palm trees, yams, cassava, and other fruits and vegetables. Having recently been denied this route through the mine property, and tired of the alternative—a longer, 12-mile round trip on foot—the entire town turned out in February 2006 to demand access to the road. Baidoo and one other man were shot, and several people were beaten.

Amoateng immediately called WACAM, the environmental and human rights organization partly funded by Oxfam that had trained her and others in the community. "I reported that Anthony had been shot, and was lying in his own blood," she said. After WACAM's director Daniel Owusu-Koranteng called the head of the AngloGold Ashanti mine company, Baidoo got the medical care he needed to survive at the company's expense. After recovering for eight months in the hospital he is now disabled.

Teberebie is a farming community in the Wassa West District of Ghana's Western Region. The community was resettled in 1991 to make room for the AngloGold Ashanti, Iduapriem Mine, which is now producing over 300,000 ounces of gold per year. It is just one of many scenes of violence over the last several years, as Ghana has thrown open its doors to foreign companies and relaxed its rules on investment to encourage more mining. The shootings in Teberebie were just two of 15 reported by the BBC in 2005 and 2006.

Concerned farmers

Amoateng is now a leader of the Concerned Farmers' Association of Teberebie, which consists of 35 farmers who have worked with WACAM to learn about their human rights under Ghana's constitution and Minerals and Mining Act. She is leading this group in a legal case against AngloGold, alleging non-payment of compensation for their lost farms, which are now buried under piles of waste rock.

Amoateng, 30, said she is now more aware of how the government and mining companies in the area are violating the rights of people in her community—and what to do about it. "Because of WACAM, I now know where to go and who to contact in case of any problem in the community," she said. Her recent activities have included leading a march to the nearby town of Tarkwa, where radio, television, and newspaper journalists interviewed her about the situation facing farmers in Teberebie.

In Ghana, as in many other countries in Africa and other parts of the world, women do not usually lead political struggles. Speaking out publicly is simply out of the question for most women in communities affected by mining in Ghana. Men are normally perceived as the voices of the community. But with the right training and personal ambition, women like Amoateng are showing they are strong leaders.

To more effectively represent her community, Amoateng is presently studying to finish high school and prepare for university. She aspires to be a lawyer and an advocate for women and children.

Her concerns center on basic justice for Teberebie. "The 1992 constitution and the Minerals and Mining Act are my closest friends now," Amoateng said. "I don't want the mining company to cheat my community. And I know my rights as a citizen living in a mining community."

Amoateng's work is a good example of how WACAM uses education as a tool to empower mining communities in their struggle to improve their living conditions. Her training with WACAM has strengthened her community as well as her own ability to represent her neighbors. "This has made me very powerful in the sight of both the mining company, and the men in my community," she said. "I am proud of myself."

Jerry Mensah-Pah is a radio and newspaper journalist based in Tarkwa, Ghana, and has been covering human rights violations related to communities affected by mining for four years. He works for WACAM in the Western Region of Ghana as its assistant programs officer.

"When you educate your children, you provide a good generation for your community," says Abbis, 50.

That's the mantra that has helped to make her such a successful member of the Tea and Food Sellers Cooperative operating in the sprawling, dusty Elshabe market in Khartoum. It's one of three women's cooperatives that Oxfam America's partner, the Sudan Development Association or SDA, helped to launch. And now, with a new $50,000 grant from Oxfam, SDA is set to further expand its outreach to women vendors in the city by offering skills and management training, exploring new economic opportunities for them, and facilitating loans that will allow them to increase their incomes.

Established in 1990, SDA's central mission is to empower women. It started with the simplest of projects: a study of women vendors in Khartoum's markets—a group of people whose numbers had surged, but who faced few opportunities and little social support.

At the time, drought and conflict had driven many women and their children to Khartoum where the only way they could make money to support themselves was to sell food or tea in the markets, said Rugaia Salih Mohamed, SDA's program director. But they were not well-received.

"They were viewed as inferior," says Mohamed. And often, they were harassed or had their goods confiscated.

But with SDA's help, the women came together and formed a series of cooperatives, which offered them protection under the law, as well as financial and technical support—in short, a way for them to pull themselves out of the poverty that saddled them.

"Now, they know their rights," says Mohamed. "They can support their families and they don't need others to support them. It's liberating."

Among the projects the women launched was the Women Food and Tea Sellers Cooperative Restaurant. Housed in a long, narrow room in a building inside the market, the restaurant has a handful of tables and chairs at one end and a charcoal fire burning next to the wall. Co-op members can cook and sell their food here.

"They don't just stick to selling food and tea. They help others claim their rights," adds Mohamed. "Now, their children are going to university and they acquire other places themselves."

A few alleys away, in the mottled light of an expansive stall, co-op member Hiat Adam, draped in a peach-colored wrap, is serving tea from behind a tiny table.  Each serving, offered in small, clear glasses, costs about 25 cents. Customers can also buy coffee for about 50 cents.

Joining the co-op was a pivotal point for Adam and the business she wanted to launch: The co-op provided her with a license so she could secure the space she needed to run her tea service. It also offered her the requisite health training.

"It's good to be a member," says Adam. "If you are working alone it's difficult to have a license."

Divorced and the mother of six children for whom she has sole responsibility, Adam is using the proceeds from her tea business to buy food for them and to send some of them to school.

"They have learned a lot," says Mohamed of the women in the co-op. "You can see the progress in everything—in their style, in their home, in their children, in their interaction."

Alami Bera is one such woman living in Ethiopia's Bacho district, about 50 miles southwest of Addis Ababa. A mother of twelve children, Alami and her husband toil on their farm to support eight of their unmarried children. Sometimes they are elated with their plentiful harvest, but other times they struggle to feed their large family. They work on their field year round to grow wheat and teff, and make the two-hour trek on foot to sell what they have harvested at the nearest open-air market. This is the same market that Alami walks to every week to purchase items for her family's consumption.

Up until the time Oxfam America partnered up with Oromo Self Reliance Association (OSRA) to launch the Sodo Liben Water Supply and Sanitation project, Alami, her family, and the other 3,000 people living in Sodo Liben locality had no access to clean drinking water and sanitation facilities. Waterborne diseases and other illnesses caused by lack of hygiene were rampant.

With heavy clay water pots on their backs, women and young girls traveled great distances on foot to fetch water from polluted streams. The hardship of fetching water increased as the dry season advanced, with the water levels dropping and the streams running dry. Women then would have to trudge down deep gorges and climb back up, lugging six gallons of water—about 50 pounds—on their backs.

For the 80 households living in Alami's village, the only near source of water was an ella, or traditional well, located at the heart of the village. The well, about 82 feet deep, had never been fit for drinking, but Alami had no choice other than to let her family drink from it. When the seasonal ella ran dry, Alami and the other women in her village walked two hours to fetch water from the nearest stream. One trip was never enough to meet the daily water needs of a family of 14. In a society where the burden of fetching water falls on women and young girls, Alami had to travel to the stream two or three times a day to fetch water.

"I knew the water I was giving my children was making them sick, but you have to know that I had no choice," said Alami. "I had only two choices. Either give my family filthy water to drink and bathe in or don't give them any water at all."

Plentiful water but limited access

Ethiopia is known as the Water Tower of the Horn of Africa—a place with 12 river basins and vast underground reserves of water. Yet, the country has not been able to harness that potential. Countless traditional songs, poems, and proverbs praise the country's great rivers but lament the fact that the children of the mighty Blue Nile go thirsty while the river traverses boundaries to flow to far away lands and turn deserts into oasis. The irony is not lost on anyone.

Oxfam America set out on this project to provide a supply of clean drinking water and sanitation structures to improve health conditions and boost the productivity of people living in10 different sites within the district. Through this intervention, Oxfam America also intended to reduce the toil on women and young girls who had to walk great distances to fetch water. Oxfam and its partner constructed shallow wells, pit latrines, and washing stations and provided training to the communities on how to use them.

"Only a woman can fully appreciate what it means to have clean water near by," said Alami, pointing to the well and hand pump located only five yards from her thatch-roofed hut. "It now only takes me two minutes to pump out 7 gallons of clean water."

The hand-pumped well, which stands proudly in the middle of the village, is available five hours a day and the 80 households each get turns filling their jerricans for their daily use. The community imposed the five-hour limit to reduce wear and tear on the pump.

"What mother wouldn't give up everything she has to see her children's health restored?" asked Alami. "For the first time in our lives, our family is drinking and washing with clean water and using pit latrines."

Women in communities with the new wells are seeing some changes in gender role dynamics as more men are taking the initiative to fetch water for their families. It is a cultural taboo for a man to fetch water from a stream and carry it home on his back, so even the most helpful of husbands would only fetch water if the family owned a pack animal that could do the job.

"Imagine my husband sharing the water fetching responsibility with me," said Alami chuckling. "But he does it now, and I happily let him."

An interesting comparison

• On the one hand, women in the Saving for Change groups save up and then loan each other their own money, an unusual savings-led approach to microfinance Oxfam initiated in Mali in 2005.
• On the other, the capital comes from outside the community, and goes back out to the microfinance institution along with the interest paid by the women. This is the more classic, credit-led approach pursued by thousands of organizations in scores of countries.

TONUS initiated the credit-led groups in 1997.

Sitting behind his desk, cluttered with papers and files wilting in the heat and humidity of Mali’s August rainy season, Doumbia had gone over the figures a thousand times. He kept coming to the same conclusion, and it was one that made him smile: Despite having to save their own money, Saving for Change works for poor women.

At first glance, "surprising results"

"In the first eight months, the SFC groups had 3,427 members, and the credit microfinance groups had 1,983 members after eight years," he said. By the end of August 2006, the trend had continued: 5,894 Saving for Change members and 2,144 credit group members.

Not only did Saving for Change have more participants, but the groups were performing better. "The number of participants is higher, the repayment rate is higher. There is a lower total of overdue loans," he said. "The voluntary savings are as much as the credit groups have saved in eight years."

Doumbia said he was at first surprised at these results. "When we started SFC I did not think we would see these results by helping women make loans with their own money. The savings rate is a lot lower in the classic, credit-led finance system, and since we began that in 1997 we have not seen much saving. So at the beginning we were worried because we did not have outside capital, and women had to save their own money."

But after just a few weeks, he could see a big difference in the performance of Saving for Change. "One month into it I was impressed," he said. "Since then I have been watching the stats. I held a meeting with the credit-led finance team to show them the results so far. It has now been almost nine months and the savings are almost the same as the credit-led finance system—about 8 million CFA francs (about $14,500) for Saving for Change groups versus 9 million CFA ($16,300) in savings for the credit program after eight years."

Since August of 2006 the trend has continued. By the end of March 2007 the Saving for Change groups savings had jumped to over $186,000, just over five times the amount saved by the credit groups over eight years. Savings for Change groups have twice as much money loaned out and working in the community, and a repayment rate over 99 percent.

Organizing is key to success

The numbers in this case do not lie, and they prove something significant: Poor people can save money. Doumbia says that the higher rate and amount of voluntary savings can be attributed to the organization of the Saving for Change groups, not necessarily the participants’ level of income. To Doumbia, this shows a weakness in the credit-led system: "Their savings are low, not due to lack of money, but because the system does not work as well," he said.

Doumbia says the women make it all possible. "The Savings for Change women are at the center of the program," Doumbia said. "It all starts with them. They mobilize their own savings, pay back their loans, and manage the groups."

Savings vs. credit

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.

But once they know this they take serious action, learning how to prevent the disease by sleeping under nets treated with insecticide, and filling in puddles and other places where mosquitoes can breed. They take special care to help pregnant women get access to government-sponsored prenatal care, which includes a free mosquito net.

A recent survey of villages where Saving for Change groups have been formed is showing that 75 percent of members understand that mosquitoes transmit malaria, while only half of non-members in the communities know this. Seventy percent of members knew that mosquito nets are an effective way to prevent malaria, compared to only 40 percent of non-members. More than half of members said they slept under a bed net the previous evening, compared to just 30 percent of others in the community. And more than 40 percent of Saving for Change members said they had purchased a bed net since joining a group, evidence that the availability of information about the value of bed nets contributed to changes in behavior.

Malaria a crucial problem

Overall, malaria killed 22,000 people in Mali in 2005, and ranked third among all causes of death after respiratory infections and diarrheal diseases, according to the World Health Organization's latest figures. The death toll for children is particularly severe. Mali ranks 175 out of 177 countries in the rate of death from all causes of children under five, at 218 per 1,000, and malaria causes about 17 percent of those deaths.

"Malaria is a crucial problem in Mali," says Macky Doucouré, president of the non-governmental group CAEB, one of Oxfam's Saving for Change partners in Mali. "The majority of deaths of pregnant women are due to malaria. More women in Mali die from malaria than they do from AIDS...as many as die in childbirth."

The death toll is heavy, but so is the price to stay alive, as many families struggle to find money to transport sick people to clinics, and buy medication. "Some families have to spend as much as 60 percent of their income on health care," Doucouré said. This is why malaria is an important topic when it comes to community finance programs: nothing will destroy a family's assets like chronic illness.

Once women are organized into Saving for Change groups it is easier for them to work together to educate people in their village about malaria and take steps to prevent it. "It is a really big change for people to understand that there are things they can do in their own villages to prevent malaria," Doucrouré said.

He described one village where women in a Saving for Change group took some extraordinarily active steps. "They decided to create their own committee to help women prevent malaria, and encourage the use of insecticide impregnated mosquito nets at night while people are sleeping. Each night members of the committee would visit homes to make sure women and their children were sleeping under their mosquito nets, and they would even fine women not using the nets 50 CFA or maybe 100 CFA [10 or 20 cents]."

"Creating a committee to prevent and help people treat malaria is a significant innovation for these families and their village, and it was made possible by the Saving for Change group financed by Oxfam—it is something the women created themselves to deal with the problem, it did not come from outside the village."

Devapiriam is the director of Anawim Trust, a rural development organization that undertook relief efforts when the tsunami struck the coast of Tamil Nadu, India.

“Right after the tsunami," she says, "we provided people in the area villages with food, medical aid, and then temporary shelter."

But while she and her staff labored to get aid to everyone in need, she never lost sight of the particular struggles of women and children.

"Already we were working with women and children before the tsunami, because they were the most oppressed in the community. After the tsunami, initially most rehabilitation aid was given to men, who received fishing boats," says Shanti. "So we focused on the women."

She first helped women form self-help groups—community organizations where members save, lend, and invest money together. She then provided trainings to group members in both job skills and how to run a business.

In one highly successful joint venture with Anawim Trust, three self-help groups of Dalit women have come to own fifteen 30-foot fishing boats, which they rent out to local fishermen. At an impromptu meeting on the beach of Senthilveethi in March 2007, several of the women talked about the impact boat ownership has had on their lives.

"Earlier we used to work as laborers, but now we are the owners of boats," said Devika, who like many people here goes by only one name. "Now men are working in our boats. And we have confidence that we can be the owners of more."

"Now the other boat owners respect us as owners," added Maragatham, another self-help group member.

The police, too, are paying more attention to the rights of these women.

"In the past, the police didn't respect us. They ignored our complaints," said Muthulascmi, an elderly member of a self-help group. But when a motor from one of their boats was stolen, the police responded quickly. "We got it back immediately."

And with past hurts fresh in their minds, the women have taken steps to right some old wrongs. "We feel that we treat our laborers better than we used to be treated," said Maragatham. "Laborers now prefer to work with us because we always give them their fair share."

The experience of the women of Senthilveethi illustrates the impact that gaining access to high-value assets can have on impoverished women, and why gender researcher Chaman Pincha considers it a particularly effective tool for empowering women in the wake of disasters.

In June of 2006, Pincha and a team of independent researchers undertook a study—initiated and funded by Oxfam, and managed by Anawim Trust—to help document how gender affected the experiences of tsunami survivors, the various ways tsunami aid providers have integrated gender sensitivity into their programs, and what impact those programs have had on women and men.

Collaborating with a group of ten non-governmental organizations (NGOs) that share the goal of ensuring gender equity in aid delivery, she and her team carried out discussions with tsunami survivors in 45 villages served by the NGOs in the hard-hit districts of Kanniyakumari, Cuddalore, and Nagapattinam.

The field work revealed aid efforts that had missed the mark, but Chaman and her team put greater attention on practices that can serve as models for NGOs responding to future disasters.

“It was unfortunate that for the sake of avoiding bias, we couldn't hold focus groups in the areas where Anawim Trust works," says Pincha, "because a number of their programs reflect the best practices that emerged from the study."

Training women in nontraditional trades, for example.

In a spacious, well-lit room of the Anawim production center, a young woman named Selvakani sets up a job on a printing press. After two trainings followed by two years of hands-on experience, she handles the tools and equipment with ease—cleaning and installing rollers, positioning the image plate, and then running off a stack of flyers, somehow managing to keep her sari clean throughout. She prefers this work to her other alternative—agricultural labor—and with job offers at printing companies beginning to roll in, she has given herself a foothold in a relatively secure and well-paid line of work. Selvakani enjoys telling people about her job and says they respect her unusual skills. "They say, 'it's a good job that you're doing,'" she says with a smile.

"Training women in nontraditional skills breaks stereotypes and can enhance women's self-esteem. It helps them fetch better wages, and over time helps them achieve positions of leadership," says Pincha. "It's one good strategy for aid providers who are committed to women's empowerment."

The gender study, which is now being finalized, is one of several that Oxfam has carried out in the wake of the tsunami.

"By undertaking studies that draw out the experience and perspective of community members and combining that with the knowledge that aid providers have to offer, we hope to strengthen not only Oxfam programs but also those of the aid community as a whole," says Russell Miles, Oxfam America’s Tsunami Research Program Manager. "Sometimes the results confirm our hunches, sometimes they elaborate on existing knowledge, and occasionally they surprise us."

For her part, Devapiriam is looking forward to the completion of the gender study, whose recommendations she believes will help strengthen her already-impressive array of programs for women. "It's very important to us to have a chance to learn from the best practices of other organizations."

She takes her Oxfam guests to one last gathering before they leave town. In the village of Mangalawadi, a self-help group has purchased a collection of new chairs and utensils to rent out on big occasions, and today they celebrate the launch of the new business. It is a joyful event, where in amongst the formalities, spontaneous speeches erupt.

"Before we founded the self-help groups, we never had confidence in ourselves, and we had no assertiveness," says Alli, an elderly group leader, who has helped local groups collaborate with one another. "Forming a self-help group is not such a great thing in itself. Everyone is doing it. But here we don't just focus on money. Here we have created unity."

Read a summary of the report.

So, three times a week, and sometimes more, women from the Abu Shouk and Al Salaam camps head out on four-hour treks to scavenge for fuel. If they don't come upon any trees, the women resort to clawing through the hard-packed earth to reach bits of root that they can burn instead.

But hard work is only part of their problem. Looming larger for these women is the constant threat to their safety: By venturing even a short distance outside of the camps they could face harassment, sexual assault, or even death. Since early 2003, conflict has wracked this region, forcing more than 2 million people from their homes. Many of them have sought shelter in camps like Abu Shouk and Al Salaam. But the demands of daily living—the need for wood, for jobs, for food—often require them to leave the safety of those camps.

Now, Oxfam America, together with the Sudanese Agency for Environment and Development Service (SAEDS), has launched a $132,000 program that will help thousands of displaced women stay safer in this volatile place. The agency is providing 4, 200 households with fuel-efficient stoves that, in many cases, will completely remove the need for women to hunt for wood. Two thousand of the stoves are kerosene-fueled; another 2,000 are efficient wood-burning stoves; and 200 of them use gas. The project will benefit about 25,200 people.

Women were excited about getting the stoves, said Sahar Ali, an Oxfam America program officer, who paid a monitoring visit to Abu Shouk in late January.

"Traditionally, the provision of firewood and fuel for cooking has been the responsibility of women," said Ali, in a report she filed after the visit. "There are few other sources of cooking fuel available to them."

But with the introduction of kerosene and gas, they now have other options. And the small round stoves that burn wood efficiently—as opposed to open fires—means women will need to make fewer of the dangerous scavenging trips.

Still, convincing women that gas is a smart way to cook has taken some doing, said Ali. They worried about its hazards.

"This is the first time for them using gas, and most of the houses are made from wood," said Ali. "If it burns, it burns all the camp. They said we prefer kerosene—not the gas."

Thinking green

The hesitancy about gas notwithstanding, the new stoves are bringing another important benefit to the region, too: some relief for the environment.

"North Darfur is mostly desert, and the few trees that provided a nearby source of cooking fuel when the camps were first created more than two years ago are all gone," said Ali in her report.

It's a trend that Ibrahim Suliman, a program coordinator for SAEDS, has watched for the past four decades as it's crept across the region.

"When I was a child, most of Darfur was covered in forest—even North Darfur," said Suliman, a native of Dar el Salaam, a small village about 30 miles south of El Fasher. But in the last 30 years, those trees and grasses have given way to desert. Why?

"Because of overgrazing," said Suliman. "Because there is no planning for animal breeding. And the firewood for cooking. And for houses—people build their houses from wood. And charcoal traders."

But with the introduction of the stoves, some of that degradation can be slowed since less wood will be needed for cooking. Suliman has even convinced his mother to switch to kerosene.

"She's very happy. It's clean," he said.

Planting projects

SAEDS is taking its concern for the environment a step further: It has launched a replanting project in Dar es Salaam and plans to begin a similar effort around the camps.

"Our philosophy is to restock the forest and all these things will be improved," said Suliman. "If we try to stop cutting trees and every year we try to plant many new trees, within four to five years we will be able to restock a big amount of trees. And we'll be able to at least make the environment more attractive than before and people can find grasses for their animals and be able to cultivate again. It might take a long time, but we have to start."

In Dar el Salaam, thanks to SAEDS, about 4,500 new saplings are now growing.

"In five to 10 years, I'm sure it will be green," said Suliman.

Near El Fasher, trees might also grow again. Oxfam's project with SAEDS calls for the planting of 10,000 seedlings around the camps. Families who have recently received the fuel-efficient stoves will be mobilized to do the planting.