That's the lesson Tadesse Meskela, an Ethiopian coffee activist, offered to a crowd of Boston University during a stop on his Oxfam-sponsored seven-city tour to raise awareness about the gross inequities in the global coffee trade and to promote "Black Gold," a new documentary about that industry.
In a small but packed auditorium, Meskela walked the students through the maze of market factors that cut coffee farmers out of their fair share of profit for a commodity that's worth, by some accounts, $80 billion a year in retail sales.
Converting Ethiopian currency into dollars, one student quickly calculated the true cost of that imbalance: What farmers sell for pennies a pound, large coffee roasters can command $14.
"That's a little more than 100 times what the farmer gets," said the student.
Getting more of those profits into the pockets of farmers is the main objective of the Oromia Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union (OCFCU)—a 90,000-member organization with which Oxfam America has worked for four years. Meskela is the union's manager and the "star" of "Black Gold," which explores the links between the multinational coffee corporations and the poverty that plagues so many of Ethiopia's coffee growers.
Across the country, about 15 million people rely on coffee for income. Fluctuations in its global price leave growers struggling to feed their families and send their children to school—a luxury many simply can't afford.
Membership in the union helps farmers tap into the "fair trade" market which guarantees them a higher price for their beans—sometimes three times what local dealers and exporters offer. Fair trade rules also ensure that some of those higher earnings are set aside to improve the farmers' communities through the construction of schools, health clinics, and clean water supply systems.
Founded in 1999, OCFCU has already facilitated the construction of four new schools, 17 extra classrooms, four health clinics, and three new water supply systems. Every cup of fair trade coffee consumers here in the United States drink will help improve even more the lives of farmers scattered through the cool, green hills of Oromia.
But what surprised Meskela most as he traveled from Boston to Madison—with stops in New York City, Washington, D.C., Nashville, Chicago, and Milwaukee—was how little people really knew about the brew that gets them up and going in the morning.
"What I noticed was 95 percent, and above, do not know where coffee comes from," said Meskela. "They don't know the life of the person behind the cup." It's that farmer—laboring hard in an industry dominated by a market that puts the needs of growers last—that Meskela wants consumers to understand and appreciate.
"We have to create connections with producers—and awaken all Americans," he said.
Meskela has a deep affinity for coffee growers and the hardship that defines their days. From the Oromia region himself, he grew up in a large farming family. But unlike many other farm children, Meskela got to go to school—as did every one of his siblings.
"My father is unique," said Meskela with pride. "He has sent all of his children to school. He was the first person to send a girl to school in the 1950s from our Oromo culture. If all of us had stayed on the farm we would have been poorer and poorer because the land would be shared among 13 of us."
Instead, among his brothers and sisters he now counts two engineers (civil and electric), an accountant, two secretaries, a draftswoman, and a high school principal. Meskela himself graduated from college with a degree in agricultural economics.
While some family members are still on the farm plowing fields of a grain called teff, education has offered his brothers and sisters a range of opportunities that Meskela would like to see others be able to take advantage of, too. Making trade fair is the first step in that direction—and educating consumers about the links between their morning cups of coffee and the growers who produce the beans is critical.
"All of them say 'what shall we do?'" said Meskela, recounting the reactions he heard time and again after people watched "Black Gold" or heard him give a presentation. "The first thing you can do is buy fair trade coffee. And the second is support us in campaigning to get a better price."
]]>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."
]]>"Black Gold" will go to DVD, and air on the PBS show Independent Lens, this April. It's also still playing in theaters and at special free community screenings organized by Independent Television Service.
"Black Gold" follows Tadesse Meskela, manager of Oromia Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union, as he travels the world looking for a better price for his farmers' coffee. Oromia Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union, an Oxfam America partner organization since 2002, represents more than 100,000 farmers, who despite back-breaking work, watch their profits rise and fall depending on the fluctuating price on the world market.
"There is no coffee which is as quality as this coffee, but we are getting a low price," Meskela says in the film. "Our main aim is to bring more money into the coffee growers' pocket."
Throughout the fall and winter, Oxfam co-sponsored the promotion of "Black Gold" in more than 75 cities and towns across the country. Hundreds of volunteers turned out to support coffee farmers by handing out information at screenings and gathering thousands of signatures for the Big Noise, Oxfam's petition to Make Trade Fair.
With great candor, Meskela uses "Black Gold" as a platform to describe the situation Ethiopian coffee farmers face. When the price of coffee hit a 30-year low in 2001, farmers struggled to feed their children and send them to school. Some quit farming. Others began growing the more profitable chat, a local narcotic banned in the US and Europe. Malnourished and forced to travel long distances to accept foreign aid, some farmers saw no alternative but to bring their families to government feeding centers.
The price of coffee has risen over the last few years, but little has changed in these communities. In Ethiopia, country that depends on coffee for about 40 percent of its export revenue, farmers make as little as three cents for every cup of coffee sold in the United States or Europe. Meanwhile, multinational coffee corporations collectively rake in as much as $80 billion each year, according to the film.
British film makers Nick and Marc Frances use Meskela and the Oromia Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union tell a larger story about poor countries that struggle to benefit from global trade. The film highlights the many corners of the coffee industry, from the Ethiopian growers who cultivate the best coffee in the world, to the NY traders who set the price, to the Seattle baristas at Starbucks who try to meet the high demand.
By working with producers in Ethiopia and Central America, and by engaging in consumer education, political advocacy, and corporate engagement, Oxfam seeks to create a world where small farmers are fairly rewarded for their hard work.
"Oxfam seeks to correct the imbalances of power at the root of unfair trade. This film highlights the vulnerability of coffee farmers and the disconnect that exists between poor farmers and huge profits," said Seth Petchers, Oxfam America's coffee program manager.
"'Black Gold' illustrates the gravity of the challenges facing coffee farmers—but those challenges are not insurmountable if people get involved. We're hoping people watch the film and get inspired to take action."
]]>Speaker: Ashenafi Argaw
SHAYNA HARRIS: It is a pleasure to be sharing with you the thoughts and wisdom of a fair trade friend who can not be with us tonight. Ashenafi Argaw and I met just a few months ago in the Oromia Coffee Farmers Union office in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. I was in Ethiopia with my colleagues visiting Oxfam's regional office and the partner organizations with whom we work. Sidama Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union, the organization that Ashenafi works with, is one of Oxfam's partners. Oxfam funds Sidama on various projects that the union identifies as important for its communities, ranging from coffee quality and processing, to clean water projects, to capacity building at the cooperative and union level.
Because Ashenafi can't be here himself, I want to give you a better sense of who he is. Ashenafi is an incredibly dynamic individual. Though our meeting was brief, I was immediately drawn to his spirit. He is a young, energetic, and incredibly committed individual.
Ashenafi graduated from Addis Ababa University and worked for one year with the government's Urban Development Office. After a year learning about how the Ethiopia government works, Ashenafi joined Furra College, determined to make a difference in the lives of Ethiopia's population by working on development issues. He completed a thesis on pricing and the coffee commodity, and through his studies became deeply convinced that generations of Ethiopia's farmers deserve more equity and dignity while pursuing their incredible work.
With what Ashenafi calls a "pressing conviction" he joined Sidama Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union and has been serving in different capacities. Currently, he is leading the export division.
With passion and commitment, Ashenafi is working to give a voice to Ethiopia's farmers, who have been silenced for too long.
ASHENAFI ARGAW: Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for this opportunity to share a message with you from Ethiopia's poor and unheard farmers.
The word "crisis" can not sufficiently describe what has happened in Africa. The human tragedy there is so serious, it sometimes defies description. According to the World Bank, the majority of African countries (about 36) have a per capita annual income less than $675. On a yearly basis, Ethiopians typically earn $110 each.
In the face of this bleak poverty, political crisis, and instability, I am happy to see that there are people who are willing and committed to help. Your presence here proves that you want to empower the downtrodden.
The marriage between fair trade and farmers has helped lessen the poverty for my people. Fair trade has saved the lives of poor farmers. And participating in fair trade requires that both buyers and growers are disciplined, honest, and fair.
One of the "Seven Sins" as Gandhi puts it was: "Commerce without morality." In this way, a fair price is a moral price. It should, however, be clear that paying this price is only part of the overall package that will transform humanity.
I believe we are all in the same boat. The circumstances might vary. But in the end, what touches one part of humanity sooner or later affects the rest.
It has been many decades since farmers started to grow coffee in our area. Coffee was originally discovered in Ethiopia in a place called Kaffe. Soon coffee was growing throughout East, West, and South, becoming a necessary source of income for many Ethiopian farmers. Coffee makes up more than 50 percent of Ethiopia's total exports, generating vital income for its population of 73 million, more than half of whom live on less than a dollar a day. But then the price slump began in 1998, and the crisis affected the country in general and the coffee producers in particular.
Sidama Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union was designed to find an alternative ways to get coffee farmers a market for their crops and a fair price that would allow them to maintain their farms and provide basic necessities for their families. Searching for new alternatives in the coffee market, the union empowered cooperatives by creating more direct relationships between the producer and the trader.
Fair trade guarantees a minimum of $1.26 per pound (a living wage) and access to credit at fair prices. These fair payments are invested in food, shelter, healthcare, education, environmental stewardship, and economic independence. Fair trade promotes socially and environmentally sustainable techniques and long-term relationships between producers, traders, and consumer.
But coffee isn't just about farmers. Coffee starts at the hands of producer and ends at the hands of consumer. As a representative of producers, I am close to the crop, where the story starts and as consumer you are close to the cup where the story ends. You get your coffee from supermarkets and I get my coffee from the farm. But the path from crop to cup, and from farm to supermarket is long, and there are many actors involved. Most of these actors are acting unfairly and affecting the lives of many poor and silenced farmers. Today, I kindly request you advocate for fair trade by preaching fair trade, and consuming fair trade.
Although I was unable to make it to your conference, I hope the message I have shared with you whets your activist appetite. I know we face a long winding path and it is mostly uphill. The tasks before us are among the hardest to perform. But I strongly believe that fairness, truth, and justice will shine through and help us win our battle. What it takes is a full commitment from us to the poor, downtrodden, and unheard farmers. Only then can we espouse the noblest ideals of humanity.
Thank you and God bless you!
SHAYNA HARRIS: Ashenafi represents the true spirit of a committed individual who is working on behalf of his country to bring true social and economic transformation to the lives of the over 80,000 farmers Sidama supports.
He is living proof that we all play an important role in the work for a more just world, regardless of where we were born, our social position, and the resources afforded to us. Like most of us here, Ashenafi was not born in a coffee growing community.
However he is an inspiration to us all, as he has found a way to use his education and privilege to form strong partnerships with the millions of coffee farmers of Ethiopia, and help bring their story to you.
To learn more about the Sidama coffee grower's cooperative you can visit Oxfam's website, at www.oxfamamerica.org. Ashenafi reminds us that we all play a role in transforming our world, in promoting a vision and enabling the notion that together, we can end poverty.
]]>But this year, when these rivers spilled their banks, the consequences were severe. A team of local officials who visited 10 districts in the Gambella region in the end of September reported that the floods had displaced 135,721 people. The flooding killed two people and left 970 heads of livestock dead. High water still surrounded more than 19,000 people at the time of the assessment. Some districts were accessible only by boat.
Now, many people are in need of help. Food, shelter, and blankets are top on the list.
Together with its local partner, Envision Beyond Basic Needs Association, or EBBA, Oxfam America has launched a $39,000 emergency relief project to help about 8,500 people, almost half of whom are women. Plans called for the distribution of blankets for warmth and plastic sheets for shelter to 1,693 families in five localities.
"We are prepared to do more if the request comes through," said Dawit Beyene, Oxfam America's deputy director of humanitarian response. "The flooding continues and subsequent information we got revealed much more damage than we initially received." Five health posts, 20 schools, two farmer training centers, and nine clinics were also damaged by the floods.
Most of the people in Gambella, which is a low-lying region along the border with Sudan, make their living by fishing from the rivers, working small farms, or herding animals. Despite the regular flooding, villagers settle on the banks of region's rivers to pursue their livelihoods. Now, Oxfam is exploring more permanent ways of helping people cope with the challenges of their environment.
"We're discussing targeting Gambella for more preparedness work—such as establishing a permanent warehouse for emergency supplies as well as helping to increase the capacity of the local organizations with which we work in the region," said Beyene.
]]>"You cannot compare the peace we got with what I lost," says Sarite Bonaya.
A 35-year-old Guji man, Sarite lives in the Oromia region near the Mormora River about a day-and-a-half's drive from the Ethiopian capital of Addis Ababa. Forced from his home during the conflict, Sarite lost much of his wealth, including 233 heads of cattle.
But under an agreement brokered by a newly formed Peace Committee, Sarite, who is responsible for the care of 25 family members, got something even more important back: the ability to return to his home and farmland.
The agreement, reached during a peace conference among the Borena, Guji, and Gebra in April, settles for good the recent crimes they committed against each other and lays the groundwork for punishing future offenses and settling disputes.
In the Borena and Guji Zones near Ethiopia's border with Kenya, herding is the main means people have of making a living—a lifestyle in which they move their animals in search of pasture and water. Although most of the people in this area share the same background and culture, they are divided along ancestral lines.
Each of the different clans has its own system of governing which is adept at solving disputes and punishing crimes within that particular clan. The problem is that the only justice for a person who has had property stolen from him or a family member killed by someone from a different clan is to take matters into his own hands. In an area where guns are everywhere, retaliation has the potential to get very ugly—and it has.
Scarce resources and greed-driven cattle theft have always sparked minor conflicts between different clans. In the past, however, the various clans had agreements with each other in order to keep conflicts from spiraling out of control. Due to a weakening in their traditional governing systems brought about by the introduction of a more formalized, central governing approach, the clans' old agreements had been undermined, allowing violence to escalate.
In early 2006 a series of killings and retaliations brought on by scarce resources and cattle theft sparked separate conflicts between multiple clans in the area. By August, thousands of people had fled their homes in search of safer territory after losing much of what they owned.
By April of this year, everyone in the area had had enough and they turned to the Ethiopian Red Cross Society for help.
With support from Oxfam America, the Ethiopian Red Cross Society, or ERCS, set up a conference in Alona village which brought together the Borena, Guji, and Gebra—the clans responsible for a great deal of the conflict. At the conference a committee was set up with 10 people from each of those clans. The clans elected the committee members, and they quickly got to work.
The committee reached a few key agreements to bring an immediate end to the violence. The most important of these was that people should not ask for compensation for what had been done to them in the past, and a repayment system was set up for future inter-clan killings and robberies in order to prevent retaliation. The Peace Committee saw this repayment system as the most effective way of keeping people from retaliating on their own.
Since April, the committee has met once a month in order to resolve outstanding issues and ensure that peace holds in the area. It has been conducting these meetings in various places where displacements had occurred. So far, the committee has been able to help people from six of the seven displacement locations return home. The most recent of these meetings was held in August in Darmee village—the place where thousands of Guji, like Sarite, fled from a year ago. A team from Oxfam America was invited to attend.
When we arrived at the village, we were quickly ushered towards the banks of the Mormora River. There, spanning the river, was what the villagers referred to as a bridge?a couple of steel cables, with some sticks tied between them, running 130 feet across the water. After a harrowing few minutes and many small, shaky steps we all made it safely over the rushing river 15 feet below.
After this experience it did not come as much of a surprise when, during the meeting, my translator leaned over and told me that people were identifying a root cause of conflict in this area as a lack of access to each other. Traditionally in this village the Borena live on one side of the river and the Guji live on the other, making casual social interaction a difficult task considering what they had to go through to cross the river. Members of both clans agreed that with more interaction they would act more like brothers and one clan would not have to feel threatened enough to flee the area as had happened last year.
The meeting—200 men strong—took place in the shade of trees in an empty school yard on the Guji side of the river. Soon, everyone had turned their attention to the fate of families displaced by the earlier violence.
A lively discussion took place between members of the Peace Committee, government officials, and those whose futures were being discussed. In the end, the displaced people agreed to return to their lands within the month under protections guaranteed by the arrangements reached in the Peace Committee.
However, they still remained adamant that something needed to be done about the bridge and the shortage of clean water which has led to outbreaks of waterborne diseases. They said that with better access to each other the Borena and Guji would act more like brothers and would not resort to violence in the future.
"I am very happy," said Qumbi Dhoto, 34, with a big smile when the meeting was over. He was one of those who had to flee his home there. "This discussion will help bring peace to the area."
]]>In a conference room far from their native Liben in southern Ethiopia, the men painted a picture of that place—its herders, their hardships—that was so alive those listening to the stories could almost hear the cattle's hooves on the hard, dry earth and sense the struggles of the families who depended on them.
"These marginalized people living in the bush, in the dark, I see some light (for them)," said Kararsa. "I want to expand the light. I can't do it alone. I need people like you."
Their plan was simple: To help local herders by improving the health of their cattle and finding a way to educate their children.
They weren't looking for a handout: They were looking for a partnership. And they had come as community activists armed with local ideas for solving local problems. They even had a small reserve of cash—and livestock—donated by the Boren people to launch their initiative: the Liben Pastoral Development Association.
Less than a year later, this newly formed group now has a two-room office in the town of Negelle—funded completely by the community. It has refurbished a youth hostel so that children will have a place to stay when they attend school in Negelle while their families move off in search of fresh pasture for their animals. And the association has inaugurated its first project with Oxfam's help: a tick bath designed to rid cattle of the troublesome insects that have caused herders extensive hardship.
The ticks have been taking a toll. They cause mastitis in the teats of the cows, blocking the flow of their milk, and depriving herders of an important source of food for their families.
That day in the Addis office, Kote had come prepared with the facts. His fledging development group had surveyed 100 families in the Liben area and found that out of the 700 milking cows among them, 502 of them had mastitis.
"You can imagine the impact of this problem at the household level," said Kote. "This has great impact on food security for Boren families."
But the problem, back then, was that there was nowhere for the herders to take their cows for treatment, and some of the traditional methods of tick control were no longer effective. In the past, before there were permanent settlements scattered around Liben, herders had kept the ticks at bay by burning the rangeland. The government now bans that practice.
Using a long nail, herders collect as many of the ticks as they can off their animals. They rely on chickens and a local bird called a "chiri" to help by feasting on the engorged insects. And in some places, herders also use a mixture of salt and tobacco which they rub on their animals to discourage the bugs from attaching themselves. But more needed to be done. Lots more.
And that's why the Liben Pastoral Development Association's first construction project was the cattle dipping bath located about an hour's drive from Negelle. It's a long concrete canal filled with water and a combination of chemicals. From a steep entrance at one end, the cows wade in and swim to the other side where they walk out into a draining area. Within 30 minutes, the ticks begin to drop off. A committee elected by the local community is in charge of running the bath.
It's an investment the community takes seriously: local families raised more than half the cost of the bath. Oxfam's contribution was $25,794. The project is benefiting about 25,000 people and has been in constant use since it opened.
At a recent inauguration ceremony, Liben residents thanked Oxfam in a way that befits a herding community: They honored the organization by roasting a sheep and placing a piece of sheep skin on the wrists of visiting staffers.
For the people of Liben, this is just the beginning. The same day as the inauguration ceremony, the Liben Pastoral Development Association held a fund-raiser for its next project. Kicking off the event was a well-known elder who donated a camel—which could fetch up to $290 at market. His gift set the tone. By the end of the event, the community had raised about $10,000.
"The self-mobilization of this impoverished herding community was inspiring to see," said Tim Delaney, an Oxfam staffer who documented the day's events and tallied the donations: 55 cows, 73 goats and sheep, seven camels, and almost $2,000 in cash. "These are people whose only assets are their animals. Yet they were willing to give not because they had excess, but because they realize the importance of these projects. And they know they can't sit back and wait for donors to come along and offer money."
What's next on the agenda for the Liben Pastoral Development Association? With support from Oxfam, the group has plans to improve the water supply for about 5,000 people in the village of Hadhesse Korati. The association plans to install a generator, a reservoir, and two-and-a-half miles of pipeline so that the village and its school, health post, and veterinary clinic can all have a clean, reliable source of water.
A year ago, Kote spoke about his dreams for establishing night schools so students could attend classes after they had finished their herding chores. And he stressed the need for more health clinics in the area. For women having difficult labors, the nearest functioning clinic is more than 60 miles away. Carried on stretchers, they often die before they reach it, he said.
"As a Boren man, I feel ashamed," said Kote last year. "I can't do anything for my people. People are suffering from illness. They're thirsty. They're signing (their names) by fingerprint."
But now, Kote—and the herders of Liben—have plenty to be proud of, and a way to keep moving forward.
"Social change could not have been more clearly seen than at the inauguration of the cattle bath that day in Liben," said Delaney. "Everyone in our group was amazed at how motivated this community was and what they are capable of doing."
]]>Earlier this month, Ethiopian farmer cooperatives, coffee exporters, and government officials met with American and Canadian coffee companies in Long Beach, California to talk more about the trademark and licensing initiative.
The historic meeting at the Specialty Coffee Association of America conference represented the next stage in dialogue between Ethiopians and North American roasters, which started in Addis Ababa this February. There, roasters committed to help bring their peers to the table and Ethiopians agreed to begin building the program's infrastructure. Much was accomplished in just three short months. Getachew Mengiste, director of the Ethiopian Intellectual Property Office, told a standing-room-only crowd in Long Beach about recently completed training workshops for staff from embassies, farmer cooperatives, and exporting companies.
Ethiopia launched its coffee trademark and licensing initiative to give farmers more control over their world renowned coffee brands, strengthen farmers' negotiating position, and ultimately help them capture a greater share of their coffee's value. At the conference in Long Beach, the Ethiopians used their time with roasters to discuss the best ways to work together to put the program's "nuts and bolts" into place.
"We are working together for a common cause," said Mengiste as he opened the gathering. "This initiative should meet the interests of farmers to ensure that they get benefits from their fine coffee. The interests of our roaster partners should also be met. The whole idea behind this initiative is to connect our coffee farmers with the roasters."
Attendees agreed on the key points for discussion, which included ways that the coffee brands would be used on packages and labeling, joint marketing promotion strategies, guaranteeing quality, and expanding the network of participating roasters. Tadesse Meskela, manager of Oxfam partner, the Oromia Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union, opened the floor for discussion. As he stood in front of the room, Meskela thanked all of the participants and gave special acknowledgement to the roasters who have already committed to the project by signing a licensing agreement.
For two hours, participants discussed ideas, challenges, and opportunities for moving the trademarking initiative forward. The spirit of the conversation was collaborative with roasters giving the Ethiopians many points to consider when they return home and begin implementation. Participants took on a shared sense of responsibility for carrying out their individual roles in the process. As Dean Cycon, owner of Dean's Beans Organic Coffee Company, one of the most recent companies to sign a licensing agreement with Ethiopia, said, "Whatever we're creating together we want to protect."
It will take a lot of hard work to ensure that the trademarking and licensing initiative creates real change for Ethiopia's poor coffee farmers. But the second meeting of Ethiopian stakeholders and North American roasters ended with participants ready to take up the challenge.
"We have said that the farmers have the right to own their coffee brands," said Ashenafi Argaw of the Sidama Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union. "Now all of the stakeholders need to work very hard together to bring them the benefits."
]]>Ato Teshome Belayneh, the chairman of the surrounding area, stood tall in his worn and dusty suit, a regular mode of dress for Ethiopians where even in the most rural areas it is considered important to be well-dressed. He explained that prior to the installation of this pump, which brings clean drinking water from almost 100 feet below the surface, the women of the village collected water from a small river, which he pointed out about 500 yards to the west in a steep ravine.
As the women filled the containers, they would cover the opening with cheesecloth to strain the worms and other small parasites from the water. Ato Teshome pointed out that there were many other dangerous things that the cloth failed to stop, but people here had little choice as this had previously been the only source of water. Stomach illnesses and diarrhea were rampant.
These once common illnesses have now decreased in Neftegna as the people have a clean source of water thanks to Oxfam America and our partner OSRA.
As Ato Teshome puts it, "this is a rebirth for us."
The new pump has been turned over to the Water Users' Committee, a group of seven people from Neftegna who OSRA has trained to manage the device. The community considers this new source of water so valuable that it has instituted strict measures to ensure the pump functions long into the future and that the water does not run low.
The pump is only available for operation for about five hours a day—once in the morning and again in the evening—as there is concern that using it during the heat of the day will cause damage. There is also an age limit placed on pump use: No one under 18 is allowed even to enter the fenced area.
As the people were explaining the restrictions they have put in place to keep their pump in good condition we witnessed the value that they put on this important community tool.
A member of our group stepped around to try the pump. As he was unaccustomed to using a pump like this he raised the handle quickly, meeting less resistance than he expected. As the handle reached its upper limit, it clanked loudly, metal hitting metal. The collective gasp from all 40 people almost completely blocked the reverberation. It was a minor issue, not causing any harm to the pump, but the gasp of alarm was a clear indicator that the users of this pump normally treat it with the same gentle care given a newborn baby.
In order to quell the fears of the water running low, the community has agreed to limit water usage to about 26 gallons per day per household. This is all the water a family of five to 10 people will use for the entire day to drink, cook, wash, and bathe. This is less than the amount of water people in the United States generally use to take a shower. An average American uses between 80 to 100 gallons a day according to U.S. Geological Survey, which means that a family of 5 uses about 500 gallons a day—almost 20 times the amount that a family in Neftegna uses.
While most Americans tend to take clean drinking water for granted, the people of Neftegna do not. Each household, 66 in total, contributes about 22 cents a month towards the upkeep of the pump.
The men that were still gathered as out visit drew to a close explained that people who live a two-hour walk away are coming to use the village pump, and while the people of Neftegna are willing to share what they have, they would much rather see the burden of their neighbors eased with the building of pumps in their respective villages.
Oxfam America has already funded the building of 10 pumps in Bacho, but clearly many more are needed.
]]>Billed as the first summit between the Ethiopians who produce the coffee and the US and Canadian companies that buy it, this week's meeting showcased real unity and support for Ethiopia's efforts. Ethiopia has asserted ownership of the names of its coffees so that it can increase the coffees' value, gain more leverage, and receive an equitable price in the market. Already some companies, such as Green Mountain Coffee Roasters, have agreed to work with Ethiopia on this initiative. Their representatives showed their support by attending the meeting.
"Now that the trademarking work is becoming fruitful, many in the specialty coffee market are happy with us and accept that we want to increase our negotiating power and ensure greater returns to small farmers," said Tadesse Meskela, manager of Oxfam partner, the Oromia Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union.
As the three-hour meeting unfolded, I was struck by the achievements already realized by the Ethiopians. It was clear that everyone in the room was ready to work together to help Ethiopian farmers get an equitable share of the coffees, which have sold for as much as $26 a pound in the US. The stakeholders and coffee companies left the meeting with a "To Do" list and a promise to meet again in the coming months.
It was a tremendous achievement for Oxfam's partners, three farmer cooperative unions, to sit side-by-side with private exporters, government representatives, and foreign coffee buyers, discussing ways to improve the livelihoods of Ethiopia's coffee farmers.
During the meeting, I had the opportunity to speak about the tremendous global support Ethiopia's efforts have garnered. Since October, more than 90,000 Oxfam supporters from around the world have voiced their solidarity for Ethiopia's initiative. Through their efforts, these supporters have sent a clear message that coffee companies must recognize the legitimate right of countries and farmers to use the names of their coffees and their unique reputations to compete in global markets and realize higher incomes.
While much attention has been paid to Starbucks's unwillingness to recognize this right, I left the meeting feeling inspired. The conversation has moved from whether Ethiopia has the rightful ownership of its coffee names to how the coffee industry should recognize those rights and act accordingly.
As Ashenafi Argaw of Oxfam partner, Sidama Coffee Farmers Cooperative Union, said, "Our farmers deserve a better price than they are getting right now. Let's plan and discuss ways to get them better benefits from the market."
]]>For them, the fact that they were playing soccer together at all was what counted.
A few short years ago, school boys in Moyale—a southern Ethiopian border town where bursts of violence plague the region—would never have joined a game that teamed children from one ethnic group with those from another. The Gabra, the Borena, the Guji, the Gari—they just didn't get along.
But with assistance from Oxfam America, that dynamic has begun to change. The agency helped to plant the seed of peace at the Moyale Primary School, and its roots are now spreading throughout the district.
Through a series of three grants, Oxfam helped the Moyale Primary School, which now serves 3,000 students in grades one through eight, construct three new classroom buildings and equip them with materials, including books and computers. In conjunction with that, school officials launched a massive public education campaign, targeting parents in particular.
The message? Ethnic conflicts coupled with cultural expectations about the limited role of girls had caused enrollment in the school to plummet. A divided administrative system, with different ethnic groups aligned with each of the two divisions, had also left the school severely short of funds. The end result meant a generation of students was at risk of not being able to get the education that is so vital to their future success.
The solution? Improve the school facilities with the understanding that the buildings—and the opportunities they represent—belong to all the students and their families, regardless of their ethnicity. The school would also serve as a place for conflict resolution.
The parents embraced the idea.
"They are beside us today," said Tsegaye Desta, who recently became the coordinator of the school system after serving as the principal of the Moyale Primary School during its transition. "Before the coming of Oxfam America, the enrollment of students was very low. Now it's very high."
Work has helped pull the families together around a common cause. About 25 percent of the new construction on the school grounds has been carried out by community members, including students and their teachers.
"When they do it together, they build not only construction, they build peace," said Desta. "When there is peace and unity, it is possible to do a lot."
A small tree nursery inside the school compound has also served as a place for students to get to know each other.
"They forget about conflict. When they work in the nursery, they discuss things as friends would," added Desta.
With those new friends kicking up clouds of dust on the soccer field behind him, 15-year-old Tegalu Sale, took a break from the game to describe how things have changed since Oxfam began helping the school.
"Before the construction, there was no sitting place and not enough books," he said, sweat beading on his forehead. "We ran to the class to get a bench. The others did it too. Then, things happened."
And now?
"The conflict is minimized—and that's why we're here exercizing together," Sale said.
Besides the new construction, which has allowed class sizes to drop from as high as 120 students down to 50, the school has incorporated discussions about peace-building into its curriculum.
Teacher Aschelew Mokinnin doesn't have to look far for material for his students.
"Mostly we take the surrounding problems as an example, and the solutions—they're always discussing (those) face to face," said Mokinnin.
"There is great improvement," added Mulu Seba, an eighth-grade teacher. "The students' interaction is very nice. It's positive."
And that bodes well for students like Sale: His dreams stand a good chance of becoming true. "In the future, after I complete school, I will help myself and my family," he said. "I'd like to be a teacher or a master of a school."
]]>Tato Boru, 48 and the mother of five children, is a peacemaker. She leads the Moyale area women's peace council which Oxfam's local partner, the Research Center for Civic and Human Rights Education (RCCHE), helped to found.
Here, near the Kenyan border, many people make their living as herders. Droughts plague the region, and their consequences—shriveled pasture and water sources sucked dry—are particularly severe for families of herders and their animals who depend on those resources for survival. Tension over shortages can trigger disputes, as can concern about land demarcation lines drawn by the government. Add guns to the mix, and conflicts quickly turn lethal. Over the years, fighting in the area around Moyale has taken many lives.
One of several similar committees, the council Boru heads advocates for peaceful coexistence among the different ethnic groups in the region and helps mediate between them when conflicts start to simmer. There are also councils for young adults and village elders.
Giving an example of how her group works, Boru told about a recent dispute that erupted when a group of Somalis settled in a nearby village predominantly occupied by Gabra.
"There was a stone attack and there were a few gun shots, but no one was hurt. We felt it was time for our intervention," she said. "We went...and told them that land is the gift of God and we all can share it."
Accompanied by members from the other two councils, the women urged the sparring groups not to resort to violence, but to engage in discussions first, and if that didn't work, to take the matter to court. In the heat of disputes like this, council members try to visit the troubled village at least once a week. As things cool down, they cut back their visits to once a month.
Raising awareness is one of the key objectives of the peace council, and something its members take on regularly in both formal and informal settings. Occasionally, the women will ask community officials to organize a gathering of local people at which the council will then make a presentation. Other times, community events, such as weddings, can serve as an opportunity for peace teachings.
Peace initiatives like these are helping women reclaim a degree of authority that was once theirs—an authority that gun-fueled violence has severely eroded. With RCCHE's help, women are now speaking out about the suffering armed conflicts shower on their families. They are finding a voice and sharing their burdens of loss and sadness.
"Before this, we weren't in a position to disclose our feeling about conflict. We simply suffered with it. But now, we've got a chance to speak on peace and work on it. Our awareness and participation bring change," said Boru.
"In the late '90s, there was an awakening to the value of traditional conflict resolution methods," said Muthoni Muriu, Oxfam America's director of regional programs. "That's when the role of women in peace building really came on stage."
It's a role that is rightfully theirs: Women bear the brunt of hardship when violence rips through a community, leaving husbands dead, homes in ashes, livestock looted.
"They lose fathers, brothers, and sons," said Boru, seated on a low stool in the cocoon-like quiet of her tukul. "They take care of the wounded, the children, the animals. Even if they don't die, they have to shoulder so many of the burdens...the horror."
There is acknowledgement among men in this patriarchal culture that women bring something unique to peace work.
"They are better than men," said Boru Roba, a man and the leader of a peace committee for elders.
"Women can play both a fueling role and a cooling role in conflict," added another man, Galma Roba, a representative for traditional leaders. "If men get initiated for conflict and women interject, the men might change their minds."
Highlighting the awful consequences of conflict—the death, the destruction—against the broad benefits of peace is at the core of the women's strategy. It's an argument few can refute.
"When we try to sensitize them on the importance of peace, there is no man who opposes us," said Mako Dalecha, a mother of five children and a member of the peace council. "Peace—and rain—are the basis for life in our area."
]]>Following a traditional coffee ceremony featuring some of Ethiopia's finest coffees—Harar, Sidamo, and Yirgacheffe—the farmers said they wanted the opportunity to make more money off the coffees they cultivate, which command such high prices among consumers.
While Starbucks charges as much as $26 a pound for Ethiopian specialty coffees, Ethiopian coffee farmers get only 5-10 percent of that price. For this reason, Ethiopia has asked Starbucks to sign a trademark agreement that would give Ethiopia the ability to control the use of its coffee names, occupy a stronger negotiating position with foreign buyers, and capture a larger share of the market.
"Just because I'm a farmer, don't think that I don't understand what's happening in the global market," said Tadesse Terro, who traveled from Yirgacheffe to speak out. "I do listen to the radio and I know how much my coffee retails for overseas. The money I earn for my hard work does not come close."
More than 200 people came to the Sheraton hotel in Addis Ababa to attend the coffee ceremony. Government officials and diplomats joined community activists and farmers. Each person signed a petition asking Starbucks to honor its commitment to Ethiopian coffee farmers by recognizing the country's ownership of its coffee names.
One farmer, 85-year-old Gemede Robe, left his Abaya district hometown for the first time to attend the event. Unable to read and write, he signed the Starbucks petition with his fingerprint.
Robe became the face behind Ethiopia's trademark initiative late last year when Oxfam began using his photograph to publicize the campaign.
"Like any other human being, we Ethiopians hold our names very dear," Robe said. "If given the opportunity to speak with people at the big company (Starbucks), I would ask them why they're resisting us owning our coffee names. I am sure they know, as the whole world does, that our coffees are some of the best in the world. But why are they refusing to give us the recognition we deserve?"
Oxfam is part of a broad coalition calling on Starbucks to sign a trademark agreement with Ethiopia. More than 89,000 people in 70 countries have already joined the campaign. Earlier in December, activists from New Zealand to Scotland to the US demonstrated outside of Starbucks stores. The coffee ceremony in Addis Ababa represented the culmination of these global actions.
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