Meeting Hopping

Droplets of sweat ran down his face as he lifted a mud brick out of the wooden brick press. It was noon, and he had been working for three hours with only a few breaks. The sun poured upon his dark skin, turning it to leather. It was the 65th brick he had pressed that day, and he was expected to make 200. Molding, lifting, pressing, stacking. He was in his late forties, and his body fatigued quicker than when he was young, so the 200 bricks he was to make seemed like a difficult task. He was to receive 200 shillings or $2.40 for the day's labor – a shilling for every brick. His total day's work would amount to 7 solid hours, so his pay: 34 pennies per hour. Although it was barely enough for his wife and three children to survive, he counted his blessings - yesterday he had no work.

But tomorrow there was a seminar, something from USAID or World Vision, and he was signed up to attend. He had been selected by the new chief of the village, who was actually his second cousin.

The next day he walked in to the classroom for the seminar and was handed a stack of materials: two pens, a pencil, a full-sized notebook and a binder. He did the math quickly in his head (30kshs – pens, binder & notebook – 70kshs), and discovered he was given half a day's wages in writing materials. On top was a paper written, “Community Development,” and an outline for the days lectures. He had barely finished primary school, and was far removed from the necessity to speak and write in English. He could not understand the words written on the outline.

The speakers lectured for a few hours in Swahili, and he wrote concepts down furiously: sustainability, environmental protection, business opportunity. It was the first he had ever heard of these concepts, and honestly the last he would ever need to. In the back of his mind, he asked, “So what are they going to do to help improve my life?”

Lunch was provided, and each member was given bottled water, soda, tea, and biscuits intermittently during the seminar. At 25 shillings per bottle, soda was a luxury he would never afford. Then, at the end he was asked to sign his name on a piece of paper, and then he was given 1000 shillings or $12. He looked at the money in his hand in wonder and bewilderment – the money he was just given for sitting for four hours was equivalent to 5 days of back-breaking labor. Not to mention the lunch, and all the other treats he was given along the way.

As he got home, he gave his school children the pens he had received, and he used the scrap paper as kindling to light the firewood for cooking. From then on, he cared not to ever lay his hands on the wooden brick press, or lug another heavy brick again. He searched for the next seminar, the next teaching session, the next free meal and easy money.

He went to seminars on community health work, water, sanitation, environmental protection, politics, HIV, sitting patiently in the class and scribbling notes, only waiting for the allowances to be dished out at the end. Though he vowed to teach others in his community, the pages of his notes were inevitably used to light firewood at the end of the day. Hopping from seminar to seminar had become his official, and only source of income.




On the other side of the world, there becomes an increasing push toward assisting developing countries. Students in undergraduate classes are learning about inequality and disparity throughout the world. The media catches wind of exploitative stories of sweat shops and severe conditions in Africa, and images of torturous working conditions and starving children broadcast before the masses. International research becomes prime picks for Ph.D students, where their research inevitably shows the importance of environmental protection, social rights, political transparency, business training, basic health... there is a great push toward sharing knowledge globally so people can then live better lives. They read something about how 1 African child in 4 dies from unclean water, and then they are moved to educate the masses on public health policies and proper sanitation.

And from this push, the seminar was born. World aid organizations began facilitating educational seminars to help fill the need for education on different topics so as to improve people's lives. It was a great plan, but the problem was that people did not attend. People were too busy trying to survive, fetching water, cutting firewood, cleaning, cooking, sewing, harvesting, planting, that they could not be bothered to sit in a classroom to learn something that was not immediately useful. Plus, those sessions were not always nearby, so the transport fees alone would be enough to deter attendance. So the response was to reimburse people for their time and their transport. Sitting allowances began to be common practice at these educational seminars.

Unfortunately, this incentive became like poison. Many would go to seminars only for the sitting allowances. Their eyes glaze over, thinking only that at the end of sitting for 4 hours, they will be able to receive the equivalent pay of 4 days, back-breaking labor.

To exacerbate the issue, the village elders and the chiefs choose who goes to the meetings, often picking only those closest to them or those from whom political favor must be won. While a bunch of old people who are hardly literate sit in a class getting lectured, appropriate, youthful candidates who may have the audacity to change their community are left sitting idly – falling prey to drugs and all the other vices which flourish in one's idleness.

What's worse, is when smaller organizations or even peace corps volunteers have a great idea and want to gather people to share that idea, they do not have the amount of money required to bribe people to come and learn. People have become so used to receiving that allowance, that it becomes handicapping for anyone else wanting to initiate good ideas.

The disconnect between education and the people who need it is difficult to reconcile. There is a sincere desire for researchers and people with knowledge and technology to share that knowledge and technology with others whom they feel it will benefit, yet it is disheartening for me to watch it be squandered before my eyes by people who do not really understand its value. But it is not to say that all of these seminars are wasted that way; some find nuggets of life-changing information and truly do spread it to their communities. And even still, the high sitting allowances do help people in their daily living. But imagine being paid $200 to sit in a seminar for four hours (about the equivalent of four days minimum wage $7x32hours, tax free). If the seminars were frequent enough, I would quit my minimum wage job too.