The innovative Saving for Change program is based on the mobilization of savings in small (20 to 25 members) groups. This approach differs from credit-based microfinance in that group members put their own money—sometimes as little as 25 cents a week—into a savings pool which is then loaned out to group members to cover emergency expenses or to start a small business. Saving for Change is now helping half a million people (primarily women, and a few men in Cambodia) with a safe and convenient place to save money, and as a source of small loans.
“This is a population that has been scarcely touched by microfinance institutions and banks,” says Jeff Ashe, the director of Oxfam America’s Community Finance program. Ashe helped introduce the Saving for Change model to Oxfam America in 2005 after carrying out an evaluation of similar programs in Nepal, India, and Zimbabwe.
With support from a grant from the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, Oxfam is studying participation in Saving for Change and how this program is helping people provide some financial stability and improve their lives. Early results from studies in Mali are showing that participation in a Saving for Change group provides a valuable buffer against shock – if a household member gets sick, money is available to cover medical costs that might otherwise tip a very poor family into destitution.
“Knowing that their family can fall back on a loan from Saving for Change to deal with an emergency helps reduce stress,” says Janina Matuszeski, research coordinator for Oxfam America’s Community Finance Program. She says that this financial confidence “helps a woman get her head up and say, ‘what’s next?’ and take some control over her financial future.”
Saving for Change is currently operating in Mali, Senegal, El Salvador, Guatemala, and Cambodia. In total, the members in these groups are currently saving more than $9 million. The money these groups save (plus the interest on loans) is distributed to the group members every year when they need it the most, usually just before the harvest when families need food and have back-to-school expenses.
“Saving for Change groups are now starting to be used as platforms to introduce ecological agriculture and business and leadership training,” Ashe says. “We also want to build on initiatives that the women have taken on themselves such as the formation of girls groups and the purchase of grain to tide the members over the ‘hungry season.’”
Saving for Change is continuing to attract members, form new groups, and study the effects of the program on group members. “The objective is to develop a mass-scale and replicable model for building village economies at a modest cost per villager,” says Ashe. “We’ll study the outcomes, and then disseminate this model broadly.”
]]>The macroeconomics of the rising price of staples are complex, but its effect on the lives of three women interviewed by Oxfam America is simple: they feel it every day.
For María Antonia León, or “Toñita”, life has never been easy. She remembers a time when she earned $3 to $4 a day selling tamales, pastries and snacks from her food cart and was able to buy weekly staples to feed her family of five. With this income, she could get six pounds of beans, half a pound of cheese, half a pound of cream, four pounds of rice, eggs, a chicken, and other basics.
“Before, with $20, I was able to fill a shopping cart. Now I can’t… I spend $40 and it’s not enough. I can’t even fill a shopping basket because everything is so expensive. Beans are $2.50, and cooking oil for 15 days is $2. We just can’t manage. This current crisis is really tough,” says Toñita. She doesn’t know how she will find the money to buy shoes or clothes.
But Toñita has now found a way to provide her family with nourishing food: Inspired by Saving for Change, she has started a garden and is raising chickens for their eggs. Saving for Change is an Oxfam program that encourages women to use the capital generated through their savings groups to participate in projects that help them achieve a sustainable livelihood. One such project seeks to promote women’s production capacity, entrepreneurial, and self-reliance skills by helping them establish vegetable gardens.
With her garden, Toñita has a new means to feed her family and avoid paying the high prices at the market. The cucumbers, radishes, tomatoes, peppers, cabbage, and mustard greens she is growing are providing her family with the vitamins and proteins they weren’t getting before. And now she is teaching other women in her community how to do the same thing. The best part is she sells her extra produce at below market prices to her neighbors facing similar difficulties.
Ana Elizabeth Barrera works at a market in the city of Santa Tecla. She cooks and sells prepared foods, and therefore intimately knows the issue of rising food prices. Ana Elizabeth has seen the price of staples climb steadily over the past five years, but notes an accelerated rise of 60 to 70 percent in the past year, most notably with oil, rice, beans and sugar.
“Six to eight months ago I would invest $100 for oil, rice and other basics, and today I am spending between $150-160 which buys the same amount. Consequently, I have to raise my prices, which means that sales have gone down,” says Ana Elizabeth. She has lost 40 percent of her clientele and has had to let go one of her two employees.
Iris Madrid finds herself in a vulnerable position after losing her job a few weeks ago. Although her income was modest, it was stable and allowed her to buy basic items for her home and support her three children. Now, without a salary and facing rising food costs, she depends on her mother who sells beauty products via catalog.
“If there is detergent, then there is no soap. Or if we have soap, then we have no detergent. If we have beans, then we won’t be eating cheese. If we have cheese, we won’t be eating beans… It hurts because when you have children and they ask you for something, you can’t give it to them,” explains Iris. There are days when all they eat are the mangos from the tree outside her house.
Saving for Change is a program that is growing every day. Since its launch in 2005, it has grown to more than 488,000 members in five countries. The hope is that it will continue to grow and reach people like Ana Elizabeth and Iris, like it has reached Toñita.
]]>]]>
The film screening was part of an effort led by Oxfam and its partners in Chalatenango to help the women participants in Saving for Change groups to improve their entrepreneurial skills and ability to manage small businesses, as well as small-scale agricultural activities and ability to advocate for better policies to address major economic issues related to agriculture and food.
Other activities during the week included cultural acts, such as theater and folklore dances, organized by the women themselves. This is a remarkable accomplishment. For the first time, women felt empowered enough to organize community activities by themselves and for themselves. It’s an example of how teaching women to save and manage their own funds in a Saving for Change group also builds self-esteem.
The documentary, titled Vamos al Grano, described the food price crisis in 2009. The women in the audience noted that the prices in Latin America have not dropped much since then. “The price of a 20 pound sack of beans has gone up to $30, $35; before, it was $10,” says Juana Morales, one of the participants. “This year [2010-2011] the prices have gone up more than ever.” She explains that the high prices are caused by heavy rainfall, which ruined the crops.
All the women who came to view the film are experiencing similar challenges in providing adequate nutrition to their families. The Saving for Change program is helping women to go beyond saving and small investments to improve their small-scale agricultural production through water management, improving soil through organic fertilizer and other means, and better seed selection. Oxfam’s partners in Chalatenango are training women leaders who are then passing on their knowledge to a wider group of Saving for Change members. Discussing the larger economic issues related to food production and supply will help the women to push for better policies at the local and national level that will help small-scale food producers like them to get the help they need to adequately feed their families, and improve their incomes.
Oxfam is currently funding partner organizations CORDES, CCR, and ADEPROCCA to work with 575 women from Saving for Change groups in Chalatengango to improve their food production capacity, start small businesses, and learn to project their concerns and needs on to local and regional government.
“Saving for Change goes beyond just saving and lending money,” says Milagro Maravilla, Oxfam’s Program Coordinator for Saving for Change in Central America. “It’s a perfect way to start organizing women, and that’s what we’ve been doing alongside the savings activity for three years now. It was inspiring to see how they took the lead in organizing these activities, instead of just participating in events organized by national or local organizations. And now that there is such a force of empowered women, Oxfam is helping them with the necessary skills to take themselves a step ahead economically, and to advocate for their rights.”
]]>"El Salvador is a country with one of the highest rates of femicide (the killing of women) in the world, according to the United Nation’s Population Fund,” said Carolina Castrillo, director of Oxfam America’s Central America, Mexico, and Caribbean regional office. In fact, over the past three years, the number of femicides in El Salvador has increased from 28 to 46 a month.
That is one reason why, on Nov. 25, legislators voted to approve (by a 75-9 margin) the Special Integral Law for a Life Free of Violence for Women. "The penalty for femicide will be between 30 and 50 years of imprisonment," said Mariela Pinto, chair of the Committee for Family, Women and Children’s Affairs in the legislative assembly. The new law also provides penalties—such as fines and jail sentences—for other crimes, such as pornography, psychological abuse, and negative or hateful messages.
An important and innovative aspect of this new law is that it addresses gender-based violence from a prevention perspective and broadens the definition beyond domestic violence. (Gender-based violence also can occur in public spaces, workplaces, etc.) Effective January 1, 2012, the law will be binding in the public sphere, such as ministries and the media. This means government institutions, such as the Ministry of Education and the Ministry of Public Health, as well the Public Attorney’s office and the National Prosecutor’s office will be bound by law to do their part in the prevention of violence against women and children.
"Some institutions already are taking steps in this direction," says Mélida Guevara, program coordinator for Oxfam America’s gender program in the region. "For our Campaign for the Prevention of Gender Violence [an initiative of Oxfam America in collaboration with nine Salvadoran organizations], the Ministry of Education is a very important ally, in incorporating gender-based violence and its prevention within school curricula.”
“We also signed an agreement with the Sub-Ministry of Local Development,” she continues. “This coming year, we will bring theater and performance art, as well as training in basic gender concepts and the prevention of gender-based violence, to communities within which the ministry already works. But it takes much more coordination effort and work to change habits, roles, and beliefs. If we talk about a culture of prevention, we talk about changing the way we have been doing things for decades, even centuries. And that entails a long process, in which we all have to do our share.”
The new law is a product of two different proposals, one of which the female assembly members authored. These members participated in an intensive certificate course on gender-based violence, another initiative of the Campaign for the Prevention of Gender Violence. The Feminist Alliance, an alliance of several Salvadoran feminist organizations in El Salvador, authored the other proposal. The assemblywomen’s proposal stressed prevention; the proposal from the Feminist Alliance stressed penalization. The proposals complemented each other and came to make one multi-faceted law—a major victory for Salvadorans.
“This is a remarkable achievement,” said Guevara. “The Campaign’s certificate course for the assemblywomen, which resulted in the proposal, dates from 2008. It required constant work with the assemblywomen and their advisors from all the different parties. First, the women themselves had to be sensitized and find each other in a cause that goes beyond ideology. Then, as the course went on, we could see them become more and more committed, and start to advocate for gender equity as part of all the government bodies in which they take part.”
Over, the coming year, Oxfam America and its local partners will be among many civil society organizations working on a widespread education effort to teach Salvadorans, civil society, and government players about the law’s contents and the sort of conditions that need to be created to make effective implementation possible.
]]>At the close of 2008, up to five million people faced food shortages and malnutrition was stalking more than one million young children and half a million women. About 80 percent of Afghans depend largely on agriculture to feed their families, but the government has limited ability to support small farmers and respond to spiraling food prices and persistent drought. Lack of access to adequate food is one of the major factors contributing to the country’s high mortality rates particularly among the youngest.
Foreign aid is providing vital assistance to Afghans, but much of the aid is over-centralized, has not brought needed change in the countryside, and in large part is being allocated to the southern provinces which host international forces.
Oxfam has been working in Afghanistan for nearly 20 years and supporting partner organizations in all but two of the country’s 34 provinces.
]]>Celia Candiotti works as a security guard at the main municipal office of Huamanga, the capital of Ayacucho province in Peru. She’s tall and thin, and has a narrow face and severe eyes. She’s pleasant, but professional, as you would expect from a uniformed officer who commands respect.
Several years ago she was at work when she saw a 12-foot-high wall of water, mud, boulders, and cars flooding down one of the main streets in the city.
Cadiotti ran straight into the maelstrom to rescue people.
“You can’t fight your destiny,” Candiotti says, citing her training as a nurse and a firefighter. “I didn’t even think, I just responded -- I waded right in.” She rescued several injured people before she found a young girl, perhaps seven years old, trapped in a car. “She said to me, ‘I’m gonna die.’ I said ‘no’. But the water was coming in the window fast.”
That day the landslide killed about a dozen people, but thanks to Candiotti, that one young girl survived. The Ministry of Women gave Candiotti an award for heroism.
Candiotti noticed something then: people lined the street, horrified by the disaster, but did not help. She remembered this later when she went to a training session for the staff at the municipal office. The topic was how to understand and reduce racism and discrimination at their work, so they could ensure equal access to the services citizens need from the local government.
When it came to the pervasive racism in Ayacucho, Candiotti was much like the bystanders she saw on the street that day: concerned, but not sure what to do.
The training session was organized by APRODEH, a human rights group Oxfam has been funding to work on ways to reduce racism and discrimination in Peru. The organization led efforts to help local governments pass new laws – ordinances – that require equal access to services, equal treatment by officials, for everyone, whatever their gender or ethnicity, whatever language they speak, however they dress, and whatever their age or appearance.
Addressing the racism and discrimination directed toward indigenous people, women, and handicapped people is an important component of Oxfam’s work to reduce barriers that keep people in poverty. And training for municipal workers, who play an essential role in helping citizens gain access to crucial services from local government, is one way APRODEH and Oxfam are working to changing the way people think about each other—and themselves--in Ayacucho.
For Candiotti, a woman who grew up on the coast in a family of Italian immigrants, understanding and confronting the racism and discrimination she could see in Ayacucho since she moved here eight years ago is a tremendous blessing. She says APRODEH’s training helped her and others understand that all people have basic rights. “People from the highlands are not any less than me, and we all have to learn to relate to each other. I could see the changes in the staff here,” she says, standing in her uniform near the front of the municipal hall. “We left the training calm and happy, a joy has taken over us.”
Now, Candiotti says the staff of the municipality behaves completely differently. Whereas before the indigenous staff would be reluctant to even speak Quechua, the local indigenous language, they are now happy to help indigenous people who come to the office no matter what language they can speak. “When people come and inquire in Quechua,” she says, “we all speak Quechua now, our attitude has really changed. We used to make fun of an elderly señora dressed in traditional clothes, but not anymore.”
When she’s at work, Candiotti wears a uniform slightly too large for her slim, athletic frame, with a cap pulled low over her forehead. She’s got a serious look about her, but when she describes the changes in the staff attitudes her eyes get a little wet.
Near the front entrance, she meets with some indigenous, Quechua speaking women under an arch leading in to the massive, Spanish colonial courtyard. Her warmth comes through as she answers questions, gives direction, and laughs at a joke.
Candiotti acknowledges that perhaps some destinies can change: “There’s always been discrimination,” she says near her post at the front entrance. “But little by little, this is changing.”
]]>There’s a poster in the office of APRODEH in Ayacucho that depicts a group of highland indigenous people riding on a bus. Each passenger is regarding the others with suspicion: “I don’t like the look of that one,” one is thinking. Another thought bubble over the head of a fellow passenger says, “that cholo might rob me,” using a derogatory term for an indigenous person.
It’s a realistic scene, says Wilfredo Ardito, a 45-year-old attorney who APRODEH’s work on racism and discrimination in Ayacucho. He says Peru is an extremely ethnically diverse country, but years of racist attitudes towards the native people have resulted in the indigenous people themselves rejecting their own identity, refusing to speak their own languages, and turning their backs on their own culture. “They even use derogatory words against people like themselves,” Ardito says. “People lack self esteem, they respect white people more than themselves.” This is one of the key aspects of APRODEH’s training: helping people accept who they are, and to be proud of themselves. “Part of the process of eliminating racism is accepting your own face,” Ardito says.
APRODEH teaches staff at municipal government about discrimination and racism as a means to raise awareness and encouraging local communities to pass local ordinances to promote equality as part of a comprehensive effort to fight poverty in Ayacucho “We know it is more effective to have a local law,” Ardito says. “Most people don’t know about the national laws, not the police, not the judges.” One strategy that has proven effective is to work directly with elected regidoros, sort of like county commissioners, who represent specific constituencies in municipal affairs.
Socorro Arce, 45, is a regidora in Huamanga who helped organize a training session for all the female elected politicians in the department of Ayacucho – about 113 of them. This led to a network that is helping to promote women leaders, a space where Arce says “we can exchange ideas, and talk about human rights and gender, and we support new ideas like the ordinances, so we can reduce discrimination against people who speak Quechua, have a different religion, or women who are pregnant.”
Arce started fighting against injustice while in a religious high school, which she says was run poorly and discriminated against the darker skinned, poorer girls. “That’s why I became a leader -- the girls were really submissive, and I started to change that mentality,” she says. Arce was expelled twice, once for leading a strike against the school by students objecting to corporal punishment. “They would make us stand facing a wall with our hands on our heads for hours, it was like torture. I told them, ‘If you keep punishing us like this, we won’t go to class’,” she says she announced one day. “I was about 14 or 15 then.”
When APRODEH was looking for an ally to promote local ordinances, program officer Arturo Lopez decided to approach Arce because “she’s really accessible, I called her and she said ‘come on over,’ and she helped negotiate with the other women leaders.” He called the right person, it seems. Starting in her high school days, Arce says struggling against injustice was always high on her agenda. “In all the positions I have held as a leader, I have always spoken out against discrimination.”
Lopez and Arce are an unlikely pair. He is soft spoken, she is an aggressive talker, an avid networker. “I really like Arturo,” Arce says over a glass of fruit juice overlooking the central plaza in Huamanga. “He’s really calm. I’m more like an earthquake.”
Together they convened the women leaders, held a training session, and these women then went out and helped their communities pass four new ordinances in Ayacucho APRODEH says are fighting back against racism and discrimination at the local level.
]]>Near the city of Huamanga is a smaller municipality called Jesus Nazareno. After the city of Huamanga passed a new ordinance to address racism and discrimination, Jesus Nazareno took steps to do the same in 2008.
Jesus Nazareno is a community founded by people fleeing the violence of the 1980s guerilla war. This conflict originated in the highlands of Ayacucho, and indigenous people there suffered terribly at the hands of both the Shining Path rebels and the Peruvian military. Many were survivors of horrible human rights violations. The founders of Jesus Nazareno had the protection of human rights firmly in the foundation of their new community.
“We took this initiative to create a non-discrimination ordinance to counter the prejudice against campesinos, rural people, even disabled people,” says Nancy Contreras, who works for the Jesus Nazareno government. She says the central message the municipality wants to send with the ordinance is that everyone is equal in Jesus Nazareno. “We are all the same here, poor or not poor, disabled or not.” Contreras says Jesus Nazareno wanted to take measures that would help people gain equal access to those things local government does that can help people climb out of poverty: education, health care, and assistance for disabled people and the elderly.
At a meeting of staff, regidoras and regidoros, and volunteers at the municipal office, the scope of the ordinance starts to become clear:
On the other side of the city of Huamanga, San Juan Bautista developed an anti-discrimination ordinance later the same year. APRODEH helped train staff at the city hall, and aired radio spots to teach citizens about the new ordinance. Since then, one regidora named Magaly Bautista, 28, says she has seen significant differences in the ways people relate to each other in the town since she took up her elected post four years ago. “They’ve changed the way they relate to people,” she says. “I’ve seen changes in people’s conduct; it’s very fulfilling to be a part of it.”
Bautista says the new ordinance has created some positive things for her personally. Coming in to office as a 24-year-old, and a representative from the opposition political party, she says, “I felt discriminated against because I am young…all the people in power were over 40, and they always put me last.”
Now, she says “I have definitely seen changes since the ordinance passed two years ago…young people have gone from being passive to taking up a dynamic role in the government. They participate more in events, and the majority of public officials are women.
“I feel part of the team, and people listen to my opinions.”
]]>To Wilfredo Ardito, the links between poverty and racism in Peru are obvious.
“The differences between life in the highlands, and in the jungles, and life in Lima are extreme,” he says in APRODEH’s office in Ayacucho. “Life expectancy in Lima is 80, and in the highlands it is 50. The campesinos [rural people] are poor, illiterate, malnourished, and people think this can’t change. So when budgets are approved, there is money for a [football] stadium in Lima instead of for reducing maternal mortality in the mountains…there is an attitude that campesinos can suffer, they can exist in this state of poverty, it is all right.”
After 10 years of economic growth in Peru, Ardito says wealth is concentrated in very few hands in the country, and the situation of the poorest people has not changed much.
APRODEH’s strategy is to encourage local leaders to promulgate local ordinances to address problems of racism and discrimination, and then train local municipal staff and officials to implement and enforce the new laws. The training sessions, Ardito says, are particularly effective. “People are skeptical at first, or they think we are going to talk about Martin Luther King and the civil rights movement...then they realize it is about their experience, and that they share with others experiences of racism.” This goes for indigenous people, as well as for mestizo (mixed race) and white people who may have been brought up to behave in certain ways towards others who are different. The realization of this can be profound, and life changing.
Oxfam America supports efforts to reduce racism and discrimination against indigenous people and women in Peru because these are the most impoverished people in the country. Helping indigenous people gain more respect for their basic rights will help them gain their fair share of quality education and health care. Eliminating discrimination will also help women gain access to better jobs and other services, and generally improve the situation for the country’s poorest people.
Building respect for indigenous people will also help communities value their own indigenous culture. This is essential because many indigenous groups have developed efficient, sustainable ways of living and working the land in some environmentally sensitive areas. The indigenous ways of using natural resources are being forgotten as people feel they must reject their indigenous identity in order to take advantage of all that modernity and western culture can offer. This is part of the reason why APRODEH and others are encouraging indigenous youth to speak their native languages and be proud of who they are—so they can live a decent life, take advantage of all that their government and society can offer them, without forcing them to assimilate into western culture and forget their past.
These municipal ordinances are helping Peru pull these problems out of the shadows,” Says Santiago Alfaro, Oxfam America’s program officer for indigenous rights in Peru. “Government employees can now see the negative effects of racism and discrimination on the quality of life in the country. APRODEH’s work in Ayacucho is echoing across the country, and there are now more and better legal tools available to help indigenous people remove barriers to public services.”
]]>As in every good story, there is suddenly an element of evil. At the sound of a growl, Little Red Riding Hood freezes. The wolf has been lying in wait behind her:
"Ah, little girl, where are you going?” asks the wolf.
"I'm on my way to my grandma's house,” she innocently replies.
"And why are you all alone?” persists the wolf, gnashing his teeth as if savoring his innocent prey.
"Because my mommy and daddy have taught me to take care of myself,” says Little Red Riding Hood.
Fairytales reflect reality
The performance is part of the “Ruta del Arte,” an innovative program designed to teach young people about gender-based violence and how to prevent it. It was created by the Escena X theatre troupe, which is working with the Salvadoran Women’s Association, with funds from Oxfam America. All are part of the Campaign for the Prevention of Gender Violence, initiated by Oxfam America and several other civil society organizations in El Salvador in 2005.
This innocent fairytale is not so magical for many children who are bullied, or are victims of gender-based violence in El Salvador. María Enma Landaverde from the Santa Tecla Women's Association is convinced that social violence is rooted in domestic and other forms of violence in Salvadoran society, and that it is important to teach children to stand up for themselves and understand when they are being abused.
The fairytale continues with Little Red Riding Hood being harassed by the wolf and a woodcutter, who are offering gifts to try to persuade her to go with them.
"If you come with me I'll give you a cell phone,” the wolf says to her.
"I'll give you a DVD,” promises the woodcutter.
But Little Red Riding Hood refuses their offers. The entire audience backs her up, telling her not to let them touch her.
Leaning against one of the pillars of the school building is Juana Silvia Flores de Domínguez, vice principal of El Progresso School. She is already familiar with the nationwide Campaign for the Prevention of Gender-Based Violence, its motto: "Between you and me...a different life."
"Here, gangs are less of a problem than domestic violence, and families neglecting their children. Some of the kids come to school unwashed, wearing dirty clothes, and hungry...” she says of the kindergarten and first grade children. "We also have cases of girls who come in with bruises on them, and when the teacher asks how they got them, they say that their fathers hit them."
With the help of the students, Little Red Riding Hood resists the wolf and woodcutter’s advances and discusses some issues raised with her audience.
"What sort of violence are we talking about?” Little Red Riding Hood asks a boy, about 10-years-old.
"Physical violence,” he answers.
"If someone touches our private parts, what sort of violence are we talking about?” she asks. "Sexual violence!" her audience replies in unison, demonstrating that the children are learning the lessons.
The Art Route will continue its awareness-raising program over the next six months and reach more than 50,000 children and adolescents in 57 schools.
]]>With prices going up, she has had a hard time keeping her business running. “When I started, I didn’t have to invest much… But everything is so expensive now and I didn’t know where to get the money. The interest rates at a bank are so high. I couldn’t afford it," she says.
“And then we started this [savings] group. Now I’m happy because I took a loan to buy paraffin. I’m able to make my candles again, and I’m selling again.”
Ten years ago, leaders of 189 countries met at the UN and promised to halve the proportion of people living in extreme poverty by 2015. They agreed to a roadmap setting out eight time-bound and measurable goals for 2015 -- the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs). One of these goals is to promote gender equality and empower women. One measure of progress towards this goal is to look at the number of women working and earning money.
With paying jobs scarce in many poor countries, earning wages is particularly challenging for women. While many would like to start their own businesses, they lack capital and it is hard to find money to borrow. Without credit, they are unable to take advantage of economic opportunities and stay close to home and take care of their children.
Oxfam’s ‘Saving for Change’ program helps women organize themselves and pool their savings to form a small fund. From this fund, the members can take out loans, which they normally use to start small-scale businesses, deal with emergencies, or improve their quality of life. The program serves poor women in rural and semi-urban areas who do not have access to conventional micro-credit institutions. Savings can be as little as $1 a week and loans as small as $25, or less.
Sandra, like Rocío, also lives in Guatemala and recently joined a Saving for Change group. “Before, I had to go elsewhere to get a loan, and that was so difficult. But now we have our savings and can get our loans. And it’s our own money,” she says. Sandra took a 50 quetzales ($6) loan to buy wool for making Guatemalan cloth. She hasn’t sold it yet, but when she does she expects to make 200 quetzales ($25).
These amounts sound small, but they make a substantial difference in the women’s lives. Take Elena Miranda, who now owns a bakery in Chalatenango, El Salvador. “I took a loan to buy a machine to make bread and pastries… at only one percent interest. Within two months I could pay half of it back… With this business, I cover all the daily household expenses,” she explains.
Saving for Change is based on the group members’ own savings. They borrow no external capital. It teaches women how to manage their fund, and within a year the groups are able to continue their activities on their own. By the end of 2010, Saving for Change aims to reach 10,000 people in El Salvador and Guatemala. That is 10,000 empowered women who are one step closer to lifting their families out of poverty.
]]>Amid the clatter of sewing machines and the swish of scissors, those words—“yes we can”-- have been inspiring a team of Salvadoran seamstresses to ignore the naysayers, set aside their fears, and prove that with hard work and a bit of organization they can change their lives.
The women are members of a small workshop in the community of Cantón Los Potrerillos, one of five such workshops scattered across the Department of Chalatenango, El Salvador, that formed recently to take advantage of a sudden opportunity: the need for thousands of school uniforms in a plan announced by the government.
Oxfam and its local partner, the Association for the Entrepreneurial Development of Producers and Traders, known by its Spanish acronym ADEPROCCA, knew just who should be tapped: people hungry for work--sewers from the savings groups established a couple of years before. Oxfam helped initiate the groups through its Saving for Change program. Offering people guidance on how to save small amounts of their own money and make loans to each other, Saving for Change can serve as a launching pad for small businesses and individual independence.
All told, 49 women and one man from Chalatenango answered the government call. Their participation in some of the 360 savings groups in the area prepared them, in part, for the challenges ahead. With the help of Oxfam and ADERPROCCA, the sewers organized themselves into five workshops and bid on the national project, securing work in their communities and neighboring ones.
In just six months, the workshops cranked out 5,000 uniforms.
But it took some daring for the women to imagine themselves as competitive seamstresses, going after projects that demanded careful resource management and the production of large volumes of high-quality goods. One of the first steps was to master their fear.
“They will put you in jail if you ruin the fabric,” warned the naysayers.
“You will get fined,” said others.
“There is not much fabric. There will not be enough.”
Listening to all of that, Orbelina Alberto faced the yardage before her with trepidation. But confidence soon flowed.
“When we started, we were a bit scared to cut the fabric,” she said. “But when we delivered (an order) to the first school, then we realized everything went fine.”
Alberto is one of the seamstresses in the Cantón Los Potrerillos workshop. Its leader is 33-year-old Javier Sosa, the sole man who started with the project and who has been working as a tailor for more than half his life.
Until now, Sosa had never had a chance to work on an order of this size—and the challenges were daunting at times. Being the most experienced in the workshop, Sosa had to guide the others and correct them repeatedly, all of which led, inevitably, to some tension. But gradually, the sewers learned each other’s ways of working and all of them stayed focused on their objective: to meet their deadline and deliver uniforms of high quality.
But Sosa doesn’t deny the pressure he felt.
“We had to make trips to measure them all (the students). It gives you a headache,” he said.
Alberto, it turned out, had a knack for calming everyone’s nerves—and found herself stepping into the role of production organizer and cost controller. And when the group ran out of money for materials—they needed thread and zippers to finish the job—they turned to their local savings group for a loan of $100, which they have since paid back.
“It’s not only people in San Salvador who can do it, we can to,” said Sosa of all that his workshop has accomplished. “We can, too.”
For the sewers, the opportunity to participate in these workshops, to earn a regular income, and to boost their self-esteem has been life-changing.
The name of the workshop to which Maria Hemindia Zelaya belongs says it all: New Hope. Zelaya is a 41-year-old mother who won the bid for manufacturing uniforms at six schools around Caserio Los Alas. Another seamstress in the workshop secured the bid for two more schools and since January, the 10 women in the group have made 542 uniforms and plan to double that number.
Different tasks rotate among members of the group and on average, each woman has been earning between $200 and $250 a month.
For Zelaya, that means she now has the resources to pay for her son to go to college, which costs $45 a month plus $5 in transportation.
“New Hope means that we have today, with this program, the hope of not going back to unemployment,” says Zelaya
And with the income that Élida Cerros is earning, it means her family can stay together. Her husband, who has seasonal employment only, working in a corn field, had been mulling the necessity of emigrating to find more work. Now, the family can stay where their roots are—and that has brought Cerros great peace of mind.
“I’m happy for having a job because I have him (her husband) at home and he helps me with the child,” said Cerros. “He provides the corn and the beans and I am working. We pass it well now.”
Income isn’t all that the women have gained through this initiative. As important is what they have learned about how to stand up for their rights—especially when dealing with the directors of the schools.
Factories in the cities of Chalatenango and San Salvador were also bidding on the uniforms with prices that made it hard for others to compete against. But the seamstresses knew that price wasn’t the only consideration schools had to weigh—locally-based operations and the capacity to produce a high volume of goods were also part of the criteria for a successful bid. And the women made that case—successfully.
“They learned to demand their rights as being members of the community,” says Evelyn Salvo, program coordinator for ADEPROCCA. And today, the seamstresses of Chalatenango are not the same women they were a year ago.
“Now they have a voice,” says Salvo. “Today, each of them has something to say. They have delivered uniforms and got paid for it. They have discovered that they are capable.”
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