Puddles swallow trucks to their underbellies. And everywhere, green sweeps the hillsides: delicate shoots of teff, so vibrant it looks lit from within, mix with fields of corn, the stalks thickening by the day and inching skywards.
But here in this village of about 1,100 households in Ethiopia’s northern region of Tigray, they’re holding their breath. Will the rain stay steady? Will it fall in enough abundance to fatten the grains and produce a bountiful harvest on which so many here depend?
At night, in my hotel room in Abi Adi, I listen as the rain pelts the metal roofs and pours into the courtyards and muddy streets below. I think about all the uncertainties farmers in Adi Ha face, and then I think about the south and what happens when those uncertainties become life-threatening. There, where southern Ethiopia, northern Kenya, and south-central Somalia meet, a severe drought and food crisis has snared almost 12 million people, farmers and herders both. The UN has already declared famine in two parts of Somalia. And some areas of the region are the driest they have been in six decades.
Though the rain in Tigray brings hope, nothing is certain. Not when the weather has become increasingly erratic. And not when the vast majority of farmers rely on rain to feed their fields. Countless families here—like those now struggling in the south—have known the ravages of drought.
But in Adi Ha, and a growing number of communities in Tigray, farmers now have a means of managing some of that unpredictability: weather insurance for their crops.
Initiated in 2007 by Oxfam America and a host of partners, including the Relief Society of Tigray and Swiss Re, a new program has found a way for even the poorest farmers to afford insurance. Instead of cash, these farmers can pay for their premiums with labor, a resource they have in abundance. If insufficient rain falls during a critical period of the growing cycle, and their teff, wheat, or barley suffers, farmers will receive a payout—an infusion of cash that can help them cover their losses and weather the rough times.
“This insurance is very good,” said Selas Samson Biru, who paid 200 birr ($11.75) this year to cover half a hectare of teff—a tiny grain that is a staple of the Ethiopian diet. “The insurance is good because it’s saving our assets in a bad year.”
As she spoke, a heavy sky pressed down on the fields of Adi Ha. Nearby, farmers coaxed their oxen through rocky fields, hurrying to plow and plant. It felt like rain. But Biru was worried still. She expected her corn would be OK, but the teff?
“We have some doubt,” she said.
Readings at a small rain gauge across the river from one of Biru’s fields showed that, on the Ethiopian calendar for July, rain had fallen on only seven days until a thorough dousing on July 24, when 50 millimeters (2 inches) soaked the fields. Before then, the heaviest rain measured just 30 millimeters (1.2 inches).
With the green that rain has brought to Adi Ha, it’s hard to fathom just how dry the south is. And in fact Biru, far from any access to the Internet or TV, said she had not heard about the drought and suffering there.
“We are sorry about that news,” she said, worry creasing her brow. “We feel that type of drought might come to us.” And then she brightened.
“Have they bought insurance?” Biru asked. “This is one of the most important things that needs to be scaled up.”
That’s in the works. Through a new partnership, Oxfam America and the World Food Programme, together with Swiss Re, are helping to bring this insurance model—and a package of other resource-management techniques including savings, credit, and disaster risk reduction strategies—deeper into Ethiopia and across three new countries.
It won’t come in time to help families in the south, but the disaster there may finally spur some serious international interest in finding long-term solutions—like weather insurance—to the devastation drought brings.
]]>In response to this challenge, Oxfam America has developed a holistic risk management framework to enable poor farmers in Ethiopia to strengthen their food and income security through a combination of improved resource management (risk reduction), microcredit (“smart” risk taking), risk transfer (insurance), and risk reserves (savings). The Horn of Africa Risk Transfer for Adaptation (HARITA) project implemented in Ethiopia is the first example of this pioneering approach. Initiated in 2007 through an innovative partnership that brought together Ethiopian farmers, the Relief Society of Tigray (REST), Nyala Insurance Share Company, Dedebit Credit and Savings Institution (DECSI), Mekelle University, the International Research Institute for Climate and Society (IRI), Swiss Re, the Rockefeller Foundation, and six other organizations including a farmers’ cooperative, local government agencies, a local agriculture research organization, and global legal experts, the project has broken new ground in the field of risk management by enabling Ethiopia’s poorest farmers to pay for their insurance with their own labor.
]]>More than 6 million farmers across the country grow teff, but it’s here, in rugged Adi Ha, where rocks litter the fields like confetti, that this new kind of insurance may take root and spread. An initiative coordinated by Oxfam America and supported by more than a dozen partners, its goal is to help some of the world’s poorest farmers bounce back when drought destroys their crops. And the payout isn’t only in cash. It’s in confidence—the kind that may help propel people out of poverty.
“Without insurance, poor farmers who experience drought might run through all their savings, fall into debt, or sell their livestock and other valuables—often to ruinous results,” says Mengesha Gebremichael, the micro-insurance officer at the Relief Society of Tigray and one of the project’s managers. “In contrast, insured farmers will be more resilient to those shocks. They’ll be in a better position to take out small loans that could help them make big improvements in their next harvest—loans for things like high-yield seeds. They’ll be more confident that they can pay the money back knowing they have insurance to support them if trouble strikes.”
June to October marks the main rainy season in Adi Ha, a critical time for local farmers who depend on the skies to water their teff fields. For poor families living close to the edge, where even a $20 or $30 loss can push them over, there is no room for mishap. Without rain, they face disaster. That’s where the weather insurance comes in. If a certain amount of rain fails to fall at a certain time, farmers who have purchased the insurance can receive a payout to help cover their losses.
In Ethiopia, families have always had traditional ways of coping with extraordinary expenses. If they lose their livestock in a disaster, such as drought, those who are better off will contribute an animal or two to help them rebuild their herds, for instance. Families may also share seeds for planting, or food when it’s in terribly short supply.
But with climate change—and the erratic weather that it brings—the traditional means of surviving bad times may no longer be enough.
“Climate change is dramatically increasing agricultural risk across the planet,” says Marjorie Victor Brans, a senior policy advisor at Oxfam America. “The frequency of droughts and other shocks in Adi Ha is likely to increase, and poor farmers will be among the hardest hit. It’s a hugely challenging phenomenon.”
With 85 percent of Ethiopians employed in farming, much of it rain-fed, the need for new tools to manage the risks is huge. But the market for insurance is miniscule: only about 300,000 people in a country of nearly 80 million now have it. Extending the option to rural areas is loaded with challenges, not the least of them being the concern that poor farmers simply don’t have the money to pay for premiums—even the smallest one.
This new program has solved that problem with a simple solution: It has arranged for the poorest farmers to use their labor to buy insurance, tapping into a new social security initiative the Ethiopian government launched a few years ago. Called the Productive Safety Net Program, or PSNP, it helps about 8 million of the country’s most vulnerable residents by providing them with food or cash in exchange for work. Through the PSNP, 130 Adi Ha farmers are now working extra days on community projects, such as planting trees and grasses to promote soil and water conservation, to pay for their premiums. In this pilot year, Oxfam provided funds to the PSNP to cover this part of the project.
The option to trade labor for insurance has substantially boosted the number of farmers able to participate in the program, nearly doubling the enrollment that was expected.
“It’s good for me to have the insurance as long as I can work and pay with labor,” says Medhin Reda, a single mother who will be working 24 days for her premium. “That is the only asset I have.”
For Selas Samson Biru, who is spending 192 birr on insurance, it will help address the uncertainties that have always been part of farming, especially now that global warming may be altering familiar weather patterns.
“Our season is changing. We don’t know when there will be a bad year and when there will be a good year,” she says. “I believe, after taking the training, this insurance will be helpful during the bad season. This will pay me.”
And the insurance may be extra helpful because it was tailored specifically for farmers like Biru. In fact, she was one of five community members chosen by villagers to join the insurance design team. Twenty-one other farmers participated in a series of test workshops on climate change and financial literacy. Focus group discussions and economic risk simulations carried out in the community helped the design team understand what kind of insurance product would work best in Adi Ha. And on the day of enrollment, about 600 farmers showed up for a host of activities explaining the offerings, including musical performances, a play, peer-to-peer outreach, and financial training.
“Today is a historic day for the farmers of Adi Ha,” said Brans as the activities wound to a close that day and organizers counted the final tally of takers. Among the 200 were 75 women, which represents about 22 percent of all female-headed households in Adi Ha—one of the most vulnerable groups the project is aiming to help. On average, farmers are paying 138 birr for their premiums—or a little more than $12 each. Some chose packages that allowed them to pay as little as 76 birr, or about $6.75. The maximum premium was 288 birr, or just over $23.
“We are experimenting,” said Gebru Kahsay a few months after investing 192 birr into an insurance package. “We started with teff. If we find the insurance is good, we’ll continue. If we fail, we will take a lesson from it.”
Lots of learning has already taken place during the 18 months Oxfam and its partners spent in preparation for the launch of this project. And each of those partners has been contributing its own expertise. Besides the Relief Society of Tigray, or REST, one of the largest aid groups in Africa which has worked closely with the people of Adi Ha, other partners include the Nyala Insurance Company, an Ethiopian firm that is providing the insurance; Swiss Re, one of the world’s largest insurers which has helped fund the launch and is providing technical expertise; and the International Research Institute for Climate and Society at Columbia University, which is providing research on climate data. Additionally, the Dedebit Credit and Savings Institution, or DECSI, the primary provider of loans to families in Adi Ha, helped both to design the pilot and to educate farmers about the pros and cons of insurance.
“We had to work very hard to design a risk management package that was affordable and attractive to farmers, while still being potentially profitable to the insurance industry,” says Bekabil Fufa, an agricultural expert in Oxfam America’s Horn of Africa regional office. “And we had to make it compelling to government and donors who feel it will address the threat of climate change.”
With a solid model now in place, Oxfam is planning in the coming year to expand the initiative into four new villages in Tigray--the region where Adi Ha is located—and into one village in Amhara, another drought-prone region to the south. Eventually, the project partners would like to see weather insurance offered to poor farmers throughout Ethiopia.
It will require a leap of faith by farmers across the country as well as support from the government, donors, NGOs, and the private sector,” says Gebremichael. “But given the long lead times required to build resiliency to climate change, we can’t afford to wait until tomorrow to try.”
]]>Reda, 45, is a farmer in Adi Ha, a collection of small villages in Tigray, a rocky region of northern Ethiopia. Here, rainfall is becoming increasingly unpredictable, and for the farmers who depend on its regularity to ensure their fields will produce food for their families, the change in weather patterns is deeply troubling. Without rain, the crops of hundreds of farmers in Adi Ha won’t grow.
Already this year the rains were six weeks late, coming in mid July instead of early June. That meant the corn got a late start and some farmers didn’t bother with sorghum at all. Still, hopes were high for teff, the tiny grain that is a staple for people here—and across Ethiopia where 6 million farmers grow the nutrient-rich cereal. Reda is one of them.
But this year, she and 199 other small farmers in Adi Ha weren’t taking any chances. When Oxfam and its partners suggested a way to buffer the hardships Mother Nature might bring, the farmers embraced it—even if few had ever heard of such a thing. The proposal? Weather insurance designed for their teff. If the rain failed to fall in certain amounts at certain times, farmers who bought the insurance would receive a payout to cover some of their losses. The insurance is being offered by the Nyala Insurance Company and Swiss Re. Other organizations partnering on the project include the Relief Society of Tigray, or REST; the Dedebit Credit and Savings Institution, or DESCI; and the International Research Institute for Climate and Society at Columbia University.
“Because of repeated drought, which really affected me, I joined the insurance with the understanding it might solve my problems,” said Reda.
For a long time, most people in the insurance business thought that poor farmers, like many of those in Adi Ha, were uninsurable. Where would they get the cash to buy the insurance? This pilot program has answered that with a simple, and ingenious, solution. Reda is paying for her premium—like she does for other important things in her life—with her labor.
Reda, along with 65 percent of all those who have signed up for the insurance, is a participant in Ethiopia’s Productive Safety Net Program, an initiative that provides cash and food for some of the country’s poorest people in exchange for their work on community improvements. She’ll work 24 extra days this year on projects that benefit Adi Ha—such as planting trees and grasses to promote soil and water conservation—to cover the cost of her premium.
“It’s good for me to have the insurance as long as I can work and pay with labor,” says Reda. “That is the only asset I have.”
A single mother and head of an all-girl household at the moment—she lives with three of her daughters; a fourth daughter lives in a nearby town; and a son is away studying—Reda works hard to keep together all the pieces of a difficult life. With one of her daughters, Abbadit Girmay, who is now 19, Reda hauled to their hillside site every stone of the hut they now live in. And to build it, she hired a mason to mortar the rocks together—paying him with a summer’s worth of weeding in his fields.
To get her own fields plowed—she has two, totaling a half hectare of land--Reda hires herself out each planting season, working three full days for the man who owns the oxen, in exchange for one day of his plowing.
Work is Reda’s currency.
"That’s why I’m thin," she says, with a wry smile.
In the corn patch just below her house, Reda stands bent at the waist , her hands flying over the weeds as she yanks and clumps them swiftly into small piles. Close behind, and weeding nearly as fast, Tekleweini Girmay, 7, follows her mother through the stalks. Reda—and necessity—have taught her well.
But a farmer’s life is not what Reda envisions for her youngest child—or any of her daughters. She wants them to have what she never had: an education.
“The season is not good enough for agriculture. Our soil has become poor and they need fertilizer,” she says. “I don’t want my children to be farmers. Those who have started their education I want them to continue and have jobs. And those who haven’t started, I want them to start.” Tekleweini will be among those newly enrolled when the next session of school begins.
And Reda will be, too.
She has signed up for an adult literacy program that REST is offering.
And though Reda can’t read, her mind is filled with news of the world beyond Adi Ha that she absorbs from a small radio she keeps tucked on a shelf in her hut. Voice of America in Tigrinya and Dmitsi Woyane or the voice of the ruling party are among her favorite stations. Sometimes, Reda will stay up until 11 p.m. listening—when there are working batteries, that is. They are expensive, about 10 birr each, or about most of what she would earn for a day’s labor.
There’s no electricity in this stone-walled compound, and few creature comforts. At night, light in Reda’s cramped hut comes from a hanging bulb hooked to a flashlight battery. She also has two small oil lamps. Household wares hang from the ceiling beamed with logs and storage vessels stand in the shadows in the corners. Two mud seats built into the walls near the door serve as beds.
In early August, green washes the hills that stretch below Reda’s hut, a sign that the rain—now that it has finally come—is ample enough for the moment. Her corn is doing well, she says with satisfaction.
And her teff?
The seeds have been in the ground for just a week and years of experience have left her circumspect.
“It’s too early to say if it’s good or bad,” says Reda.
]]>In a pilot program coordinated by Oxfam America along with a host of local partners, these farmers have bought weather insurance designed for their teff, a staple grain here and across Ethiopia. If a certain amount of rain fails to fall at a certain time—and their teff does poorly—the insurance will cover some of their losses. Partners in the initiative include the Relief Society of Tigray, or REST; the Nyala Insurance Company; Swiss Re; the Dedebit Credit and Savings Institution, or DECSI; and the International Research Institute for Climate and Society at Columbia University.
The rain gauges, like the one in Biru’s yard, measure the precipitation in different spots across Adi Ha where rainfall is becoming increasingly unpredictable, making it ever harder for farmers to eke a living from this rocky part of the world.
“Our season is changing. We don’t know when there will be a bad year and when there will be a good year,” says Biru. “I believe, after taking the training, this insurance will be helpful during the bad season. This will pay me.”
Biru, who has bought 192 birr—or about $15—worth of insurance has become an expert at managing the vicissitudes of life in Adi Ha and together with her husband and six children, they have built a measure of security for themselves.
Now 48, Biru was married at 15. But unlike some of her peers at the time, she had managed to attend school through the fourth grade, and when the Tigray People’s Liberation Front, or TPLF, took control of the area, Biru stood out. Perhaps it was because of all the questions she asked, she says.
She joined the organization in about 1979 and soon assumed a leadership role among other women—a twist of fate that allowed her to develop the confidence that continues to feed her successes today. Biru is not afraid to try new things—including insurance, a concept few in her community knew much about before this pilot was launched. Biru became a member of the local team that helped design the project.
But before that, she had other experiences that allowed her to see the advantages of managing household money in different ways. Through a local microfinance institution, Biru has taken out a series of loans that have helped her to build a herd of livestock that now includes goats, oxen, and donkeys. She has used the proceeds from the sale of some of those goats to support two of her children as they make their way through university.
Income from the goats, which at one point numbered about 70, also helped the family finance the construction of a new house with a metal roof a few years ago. It consists of a long, rectangular room with perimeter seats built into the walls, two beds at the far end, and a high ceiling that helps the interior stay cool on hot days.
And though the hungry season is inching closer—the time before the harvests when the food supply of many families runs low—Biru still has a supply a grain. In a shed separate from her house, tall vessels stand against the back wall. As she uncorks the bottom of one of them, the grain makes a satisfying rush as it streams out Baskets on the floor brim with corn, finger millet, and teff.
Biru’s family has another source of bounty as well: the Tsalet River, which feeds an irrigation system constructed about 10 years ago by the Relief Society of Tigray with funding from Oxfam. More than 400 households now benefit from it. Water funneled through a series of channels connected to a dam across the river irrigates a quarter hectare of land from which Biru harvests green peppers, bananas, melons, guava, and coffee beans. That regular supply of water may free her from some of the worry about rain.
But the irrigation system doesn’t water her teff. Across Adi Ha, farmers depend on the rainy season for that job. The main one, the kiremt, stretches from June into September. A shorter rainy season, the belg, runs from February to May. This year, the kiremt started late: the rain didn’t really begin to fall in substantial amounts until mid July, making it hard for farmers who plant sorghum and corn.
“For maize, the rain is not good. There was no rain early,” says Biru.
With her rain gauge, Biru keeps careful count of exactly how much rain falls, recording the precipitation on a small chart. Pulling it out to show some visitors one day in early August, she notes the range from half a millimeter the day before—barely a sprinkle—to 40 millimeters in a downpour on July 3.
Her crops aren’t the only thing Biru worries about when it comes to water. Her family also needs a steady supply for drinking and cooking. And often, the job of fetching it falls to her. Potable water is about an hour’s walk away, and someone in the household makes that trip once a day, sometimes with a donkey to haul the heavy load home. But a less reliable source that the family uses just for cooking, is a good deal closer—a 15-minute hike from Biru’s home.
Grabbing a jug, Biru heads down the path from her house, slowing her pace so the city slickers who are visiting can keep up. She’s going to show them what’s required to keep a family hydrated in Adi Ha, where there’s no municipal system pumping water through every household tap.
The walk includes a scramble down a steep ledge—and the knowledge of a return hike up, lugging the jug heavy with water. On the way, Biru stops at a mound of stones, bending to kiss one reverentially: below them, in an oasis of trees and thick bushes—one of the few forest-like spots still standing in the area—sits a local church. Tradition demands that the woods around the church be left alone. They’re sacred. And that may account for the small spring that still gurgles at their base.
It’s here that Biru stops to fill her jug, scooping cupfuls of water from the shallows while trying to leave the silt behind. Ten minutes later, she stands and heads home under a gray sky full of the promise of rain.
Will it be ample enough to guarantee a harvest?
“For teff, currently it’s good,” says Biru. But if it doesn’t last, she now has insurance to fall back on.
]]>But for Kahsay, a 52-year-old farmer in the Adi Ha area of Tigray in northern Ethiopia, a good deal has changed in the quarter century since so many of his neighbors lost all their crops including teff, a staple grain.
More than a third of the families in Adi Ha grow the tiny seed. It’s rich in nutrients and serves as the base for a pancake-like bread—injera—that many people eat. The hay left after threshing is also nourishing for animals. And for families that have some to spare, the grain commands a good price in the market.
Still, for those who depend on rain to help their teff thrive—it’s the second most widely cultivated rain-fed crop in Adi Ha—growing this cereal can be an iffy proposition, especially as global warming may be forcing a change in weather patterns. The rain came late this year to Adi Ha, preventing some farmers, like Kahsay, from planting early crops of sorghum—and heightening the need for a hearty harvest of teff.
But this year, Kahsay has a back-up plan if the rain doesn’t cooperate: weather insurance. He’s one of 200 farmers in Adi Ha who decided to participate in a pilot program organized by Oxfam America and carried out with the help of numerous local organizations, including the Relief Society of Tigray, or REST. Other partners include the Nyala Insurance Company; Swiss Re: the Dedebit Credit and Savings Institution, or DECSI; and the International Research Institute for Climate and Society at Columbia University.
The farmers—some paying with cash, others with labor—have bought varying amounts of insurance designed specifically for their teff. If the rain fails to fall in certain amounts at certain times, farmers will receive a payout to cover some of their losses.
“According to my belief, this insurance is important to protect us from migrating in a drought in search of food,” says Kahsay, who has bought 192 birr—or about $15—worth of insurance. “It saves the lives of the family during drought.”
Irrigation is also insurance
Kahsay has a large family to be concerned about. He’s the father of nine children, the youngest of whom is just 2. But the weather insurance he is trying out isn’t his only defense against bad times: irrigation also serves as a cushion.
Kahsay is among the more fortunate farmers in Adi Ha who have access to an irrigation system constructed by REST with funding from Oxfam a little more than 10 years ago. With concrete canals and a dam across the Tsalet River, the system has made major improvements to the traditional watering network that would clog with debris during heavy rains. In the month that it would take farmers to clean out the mess, their crops would often die.
For Kahsay, the modern system has been a boon. Though he irrigates just one quarter of a hectare of land, it provides him with an array of produce—oranges, coffee, papayas, tomatoes, onions—that he can sell. In fact, 95 percent of what he grows on his irrigated plot goes to market and the income buffers his family from the hard times that farmers, who depend only on rain-fed harvests, have no choice but to grapple with as best they can.
But Kahsay also tills two hectares of land that rely solely on rain. He sews them with corn, finger millet, sorghum, and teff—and most of the harvests from these fields get consumed by his family.
Wrapping a shawl about his shoulders and tucking an umbrella under his arm—it’s early August and it’s been raining, off and on, for several weeks—Kahsay strides down the slope from where his compound sits atop a rock ledge. Though he’s been battling malaria, he moves fast toward his fields, with a string of visitors straggling behind.
Soon, he reaches an expanse of sandy soil, dusty on the surface. Shoving up through the plowed ridges are shafts of green, so delicate they could almost be a trick of the eye in the brilliance of the afternoon sun. This is Kahsay’s teff field, well-guarded by his seven-year-old grandson, Aregawi Mulugeta, standing with a stick under the shade of a tree. Kahsay greets him heartily, and together they trek to the middle of the field to examine the shoots.
The teff is doing well, he reports.
But Kahsay says he would have liked to have had weather insurance that covers too much rainfall, not too little. In this region of sandy soils, heavy rains that come too fast can be as much of a hazard for teff as drought, and 1997 is still vivid in his mind because of that. That was the year flooding destroyed 70 percent of the teff he had planted.
Despite the water-logging, Kahsay has also seen a troubling trend toward increased dryness over the decades. Like all farmers, he watches the weather closely and analyzes the conditions.
Drought used to strike every eight years or so, he says. But now the cycle seems to be speeding up. And with drought comes the hardship of food shortages—for both people and the animals that help farmers plow their fields and provide them with milk.
With those trends becoming ever clearer, the purchase of weather insurance may turn out to be one of the best adaptations the people of Adi Ha can make.
“We are experimenting,” says Kahsay. “We started with teff. If we find the insurance is good, we’ll continue. If we fail, we will take a lesson from it.”
]]>He'd left his village for the first time to explain why companies like Starbucks should recognize Ethiopia's ownership of its own coffee brands.
"The names Yirgacheffe, Sidamo, and Harar are as unique to Ethiopia as the flavors of the coffees," he said. "Whoever says these names are not the property of Ethiopia is as crazy as someone who would say the name I gave my first-born son is no longer his."
Robe spoke at this coffee ceremony last December as a kind of local celebrity. His face—the gray beard, the unflinching stare—had become the iconic image of Oxfam America's Starbucks campaign. Launched in October 2006, the campaign asked that the coffee giant sign an agreement acknowledging Ethiopia's right to license and distribute its fine coffees. By recognizing Ethiopia's intellectual property rights, Starbucks could give poor farmers a chance to earn a greater share of the profits.
Aware of Starbucks' status as a global brand interested in maintaining its socially responsible reputation, Oxfam used grassroots activism and strategic media to draw attention to the issue. Though initially reluctant, Starbucks entered into serious talks with Ethiopia in May. By June, they had finalized an agreement that could change the coffee industry forever.
"The true victors of this campaign are the 1.5 million coffee farmers in Ethiopia whose lives will improve," said Abera Tola, director of Oxfam America's regional office in Ethiopia."They have given a glimmer of hope to millions more like them all over the world who deserve recognition for the quality products they generate."
At Oxfam, we feel it's important to stop and recognize a victory. But after all the celebratory emails have been sent, what comes next? For an organization interested in creating lasting solutions to poverty, the end of an effort is in many ways the beginning. This is when the real analysis comes in; just what went into this win?
Oxfam began negotiating with Starbucks in 2005 when we first learned about Ethiopia's efforts to trademark its fine coffees. After dozens of conversations between our Boston headquarters, the Seattle home of Starbucks, and Ethiopia's Intellectual Property Office in Addis Ababa, it became clear that high-level talks would not be enough. It was time to enlist the public.
At a grassroots level, Oxfam worked with a coalition of allies to organize members of the Ethiopian Diaspora, students, Starbucks employees, and our own supporter base. By the campaign's end, more than 100,000 people had gotten involved, many of them sending Robe's photo around the world on postcards, flyers, and posters. Robe's face even appeared on web sites and in newspaper ads during a series of global "days of action" in places like Seattle, Scotland, and Hong Kong. The accompanying message to Starbucks remained simple: Honor your commitments to coffee farmers.
Throughout all this work, Oxfam tested creative ways to engage our supporters. We filmed the days of action and posted the video on YouTube. We sent a petition to Starbucks that became the most popular online action in our organization's history. We had supporters participate in a photo petition on Flickr. And we promoted it all on our social networking pages on MySpace and Facebook.
Eventually Oxfam's message reached Starbucks' shareholders. A few sent letters to Starbucks supporting Ethiopia's trademark initiative. And at the Starbucks annual general meeting in April, some joined members of the Ethiopian community in asking pointed questions of both the company CEO and chairman.
With activists combining efforts around the world, Oxfam ramped up the public pressure by focusing on the press. Over the course of the campaign, major media outlets&mdsah;including NPR, the BBC, CNN, Time, Fortune, and The Wall Street Journal—featured the David-and-Goliath struggle of the Ethiopian farmers and Starbucks.
"What might have remained a little-noticed bureaucratic dispute became an international affair when Oxfam, a nonprofit relief and development group, began publicizing it in the fall," wrote The Wall Street Journal in a March 5 article.
Each aspect of the campaign had its impacts. But it just may have been the voice on the ground that resonated loudest with Starbucks. In the end, the company seemed to accept the simple truth: The campaign wasn't about a development agency, a roaster, or a government. It was about people like Robe, the coffee farmer demanding economic justice.
When the old farmer from Afursa Waro village, whose face had launched the entire campaign, made one final appearance, it was in a thank-you video for Oxfam supporters.
Sitting among his fellow farmers in a lush meadow overlooking the Yirgacheffe hills, Robe looked into the camera once again. "We know that Oxfam and many people around the globe are standing by our side in supporting us in this effort," he said. "You, our supporters, have given voice to our cause."
Then Robe stood alongside his fellow farmers and, in unison, offered a series of customary bows. "Gelatoma. Gelatoma. Gelatoma," they said in Oromifa, their region's language. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
]]>“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."
]]>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-related risks are a primary concern throughout Ethiopia where 85% of the population is dependent on smallholder, rain-fed agriculture. Adi Ha is a drought-prone community that has expressed strong interest in incorporating insurance into its risk management strategy.
The pilot will adopt a holistic approach to risk management, examining the suitability of weather insurance and risk reduction measures such as seasonal forecasting and improved agricultural practices. All efforts will be undertaken in close collaboration with the local farming community with the overall objective of alleviating poverty.
The efforts will be funded by Swiss Re and Oxfam America, with primary technical support being provided by the International Research Institute for Climate and Society at Columbia University. Ivo Menzinger, Head of Sustainability & Emerging Risk Management, commented, "Swiss Re is delighted to support Oxfam in implementing this fundamental and important work in the Tigray Province. In particular, we can combine our commitment to corporate citizenship with providing consulting support to the project on risk transfer issues."
Swiss Re has pioneered weather risk transfer instruments in developing countries, starting in India in 2004 with a program reaching over 350,000 smallholder farmers. In 2007, Swiss Re introduced the Climate Adaptation Development Programme (CADP). The goal of the CADP partnership is to develop and implement weather risk transfer solutions in non-OECD countries.
Oxfam America President Raymond C. Offenheiser said: "This pilot offers a chance for smallholder farmers to become more resilient to changing weather patterns. It's an opportunity to increase the impact of Oxfam's risk reduction programs and explore exciting innovations in weather-based microinsurance..."
Over the last 35+ years, Oxfam America has worked to bolster the capacity of poor communities around the world to reduce vulnerability. Nevertheless, climate change is dramatically increasing the level of risk faced by the poor across the planet. For this reason, Oxfam America is interested in developing new mechanisms to address risk for poor farmers.
]]>"It's good to see Starbucks finally coming to the table, which they initially refused to do," said Seth Petchers, coffee lead for Oxfam International's Make Trade Fair campaign. "Starbucks now says it won't block the initiative, but what it hasn't said is how it will actively support Ethiopia's stated efforts to obtain trademarks for its coffees which will bring added benefits to poor farmers."
After initially dismissing Ethiopia's plan to trademark its specialty coffees, Starbucks, which came under international pressure from campaigners, has now said it is ready to recognize Ethiopia's right to pursue this path.
Ethiopian officials have said Ethiopia will continue to pursue the trademarking and licensing initiative and hopes to enter in to partnership with Starbucks and other companies through negotiated licensing agreements. These would recognize Ethiopia's ownership of the coffee names and allow them to get a fairer share of the profits for their producers. Ethiopia has obtained a trademark in the US for its Yirgacheffe coffee.
Oxfam and other partners have supported the trademarking initiative as a way to pass down more of the value of coffee sales to poor producers who typically receive a tiny percentage of final sale price, and struggle to make a living.
On February 15 Starbucks announced initiatives to benefit coffee farmers in Ethiopia including funding for a quality improvement project and increased coffee purchases in East Africa. While the additional purchases and support are beneficial, these initiatives fail to address the fundamental rights issue at hand. What the Ethiopians have asked coffee roasters to do is recognize Ethiopia's right to control and share in the value of the country's specialty coffee names through trademarks.
"As a market leader, Starbucks should take concrete steps that the Ethiopian government has called for, including reaching an agreement that recognizes Ethiopia's legal ownership of its coffee names," continued Petchers.
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