LOST in a Radioactive Desert

"So...are you ready for tomorrow?" my housemate asked within minutes of my arrival from the blissful 11 days of a well-spent vacation in Italy.  Her tone told me there was something I should have been preparing for and the look on her face told me it was something quite significant...almost foreboding.  "Tomorrow...." I was racking my brain, "What's tomorrow?" I asked, completely confused.  "We're going to Arlit!" she said.  Arlit?  Way up in northern Niger, almost to Algeria, in the middle of the desert?  Where terrorist group AQIM's (al-Quaida in the Islamic Maghreb) hide-outs are?  Tomorrow?  Suddenly, Italy seemed very far away.  This new adventure had my full attention. 

The next morning had me and four colleagues on a private US Military 12-seater plane to the far northern region of Niger...a two-hour flight, 1,192 kilometers (741 miles) to the town of Arlit in between the Sahara desert and the Air mountains, 200 km south of the Algerian border.

The few and far between trees and green spots in Niamey seemed like a tropical paradise compared to the ground I saw quickly approaching as we landed on the dirt/sand runway.  Now this was the true desert...sand as far as the eye could see.  Desolate, absolute barren land.  So why in the world was a town here?  Apparently, I found out later, there was no Arlit before 1969 when uranium was discovered by the French government.  The French mining company, AREVA, now operates two mines, Somair (Societe des Mines d l'Air) and Cominak (Compagnie Miniere d'Akouta)  Apparently, French nuclear power generation and the French nuclear weapons program is dependent on the uranium mined from Arlit, with 1/5 of the world's uranium deposits found in this little area of Niger.  And apparently, the region of Agadez, where Arlit lies, is in the center of the smuggling route from the northern coast of Africa to the sea ports of southern West Africa.  AQIM, heavily involved in drug trafficking, smuggling and anything else you can imagine across the Sahel, finds this area a remotely perfect, silent, overlooked and untouched spot for many of its hideouts and operations, not the least of which is kidnapping random foreigners when given the opportunity.


Enter the US Military. "The U.S. military is expanding its secret intelligence operations across Africa, establishing a network of small air bases to spy on terrorist hideouts from the fringes of the Sahara to jungle terrain along the equator..." according to an article by Craig Whitlock in the Washington Post.
"U.S. officials said the African surveillance operations are necessary to track terrorist groups that have taken root in failed states on the continent and threaten to destabilize neighboring countries.  The unarmed U.S. spy planes fly hundreds of miles north to Mali, Mauritania and the Sahara, where they search for fighters from al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb, a regional network that kidnaps Westerners for ransom."

A convoy of three SUVs driven by a US special operations team in civilian clothes (their 'concealed' weapons bulging out from under their shirts) with Nigerien armed escort cars with machine guns on the back and eight armed men each in front and behind were there to greet us as we stepped off the plane.  The U.S. spy planes might be unarmed, but these guys sure aren't, I thought as I eyed their 'concealed' weapons bulging our from under their shirts.  This would become the norm for the next four days.  We didn't go anywhere without them and the Nigerien escorts even camped around the house where we stayed.  I'd never been in close proximity to so many guns in my life!

One of the two escorts that followed us everywhere.

A US special ops team training the Nigerien army on how to combat terrorism, including smuggling, drug-trafficking and general banditry in northern Niger.  But the US figured another good way to combat terrorism in general and the hold groups like AQIM have on the general population is to combat poverty and work with civilians as well.  So they called in a Civil Affairs (CA) team to do just that.  In case you don't know (because I didn't either and had to look it up, even after at-length conversations with the US Civil Affairs team themselves), Civil Affairs units "help military commanders by working with civil authorities and civilian populations in the commander’s area of operations to lessen the impact of military operations on them during peace, contingency operations and declared war." In Arlit, this means working on public health, education, and water, sanitation, and hygiene (WASH) issues in the area through government authorities and established and recognized groups. It also means trying to get NGOs to start working in the area.  Thus, the purpose of our own mission there...invited by the US military to assess the area to see if we'd be interested in working there.

Anti-terrorism special forces

Hang on a second...that sounds really familiar...especially as one who worked for another often over-looked branch of the government doing exactly the same kinds of things...the US Peace Corps (PC).  Health, WASH, education...volunteers came to work with communities on all these things...and stayed for two years doing it, learning the local languages and culture on extremely small stipends....in order to, in fact, spread peace.  Ironically enough, the US decided to pull the PC out of Niger at the beginning of 2011 immediately following the kidnapping of two Frenchmen in Niamey.  But then decided to send a CA unit to do the same thing less than a year later?  And for a 4-6 month stint? I can almost guarantee you that the cost to send one CA team for six months to Arlit could cover twice as many PC volunteers for two years...(sorry, don't have research to back that one up, just personal observations of the lives of these CA personnel and then my own experience as a PC volunteer...let's just say six months worth of PC stipends was spent in four days of life with the CA team, not including the private personal airplane ride).

Anyway, that first evening, the CA team took us to meet with a local women's group, run by a lady named Zalima considered to be one of, if not THE most influential women in the area, almost, if not more influential than the governor himself (unheard of in a male and Muslim dominant society).  On the way, I found out my driver makes his living by driving all types of people around the region and knew quite a bit about the area.  He told me everyone first of all hates the mining company, and second of all, lives in constant fear of the affects of the uranium on their health.  "Just wait and see," he warned me, "tomorrow, as soon as you wake up, you'll begin to feel the affects of being here for even one day."  He glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure I was listening.  "You'll feel tired, sore and stiff...as if your muscles can't relax."  I nodded, prompting him to go on.  "All the workers at the mines know that after they retire, they will only have a few more short years to live.  The uranium kills them fast."

I had never really thought about uranium before.  I think before that week, or before I arrived in Niger, I'd only really talked about it in high school chemistry class, and even then, it was just to memorize the periodic table....I couldn't tell you anything else about it.  Then, I arrived in Niger, and suddenly uranium was talked about a bit more frequently as the main export/resource of the country.  But even then, I still felt in the dark about what it was even used for...why it was so important.  Even, after five months in Niger I didn't understand until I was talking to a scientist friend who told me uranium was used for nuclear power (yes, it's true...before that point I never realized uranium was used in nuclear power).  Then it all made a lot more sense. 4,298 tons of uranium was extracted from the Arlit mines in 2010.  15 lbs (7 kgs) of uranium can be used to make an atomic bomb; of course, most uranium these days is used to power the world's nuclear power plants...so we think. (right before the Iraqi war, Saddam Hussein allegedly sought to purchase uranium from Arlit.  To power a nuclear power plant? I'll let you decide.)

We arrived at Zalima's house.  The group was gathered in her courtyard and we sat in a circle with them, outside under the night sky to learn more about them and what they do.  The women were preparing the traditional tea over coals, in anticipation of breaking the daily Ramadan fast at 7:30, when the sun was officially set.  We found they are part of a network of women's groups from several communities in the area, with the central one there in Arlit.  They followed the popular savings and credit group model found all over Niger (and West Africa), doing income generating activities together such as making soap, sewing clothes etc.  We asked them a bit about their personal lives as living in a mining town.  Immediately, we knew we'd hit a nerve...'unhappy with the mining companies' was the understatement of the year.  The women talked about lack of support, horrible conditions in the mine, lack of healthcare.  But haven't the companies built a hospital to provide free health care to all its miners and their families?  "Yes," they said, "but once the husband dies, the wife and children can no longer have access to it.  And all of our husbands die early...there are so many of us who are widows now....because of the mines...the uranium."  But isn't there another government-run clinic you can go to?  "Yes, but it's so expensive.  We can't afford it."  When we asked what effects the uranium has, they all mentioned lung/respiratory problems as the number one problem.  The women pleaded with us to come help them and the women in the network, and through that, help their families as well.

After a short visit, we left the women to begin their feasting, having not eaten all day, and we continued on to dinner at the local miner's restaurant.  A restaurant built especially to serve miners and expat miners coming in and out.  All food for the restaurant is imported directly from France.  I was beginning to understand why people, despite hating the mine working conditions and the desolate environment, decide to move there.  These miners get paid more than most Nigeriens, with  all housing and healthcare included.  In fact, the town had some of the nicest consistent housing structures I'd seen in Niger, and most people, even the women from the group were quite nicely dressed.  Of course, these aren't always concrete signs that people aren't struggling, but it's hard not to compare to other areas I've seen in Niger.  But I'd try to save my opinions for later when I could get more information.

The next morning, the CA team met us at our house and, as is normal Nigerien protocol, we went to meet the governor, the mayor, and the chief of the village we were going to visit that day, outside of Arlit, to do our community assessment.  We piled into his small office and did general introductions with the three men.  We were in the middle of explaining our planned agenda for the day, along with the village chief, when the door burst open and in comes a short, lighter-skinned, well-fed (trying to put it nicely) man in elaborate clothing.  His voice booms out over everyone else's as he does his rounds greeting everyone.  We look at the CA team, confused, and ask them if they know who he is, but they're just as confused as we are and have never seen him before.  Suddenly, he takes over the meeting and before we know what's going on, he's joined the convoy.  The meeting ends and he jumps in first car of the now 10-car convoy to lead the way on the 2-hour drive through the desert to meet with the community (which we suddenly find out isn't really a community, but a nomadic desert Tuareg group).  We start stopping at random places on the drive with Mr. Personality showing us random wells we need to rehabilitate etc.  As we talk with the other Nigeriens with us, out of earshot from Mr. Personality, we find out who this guy is.  My driver:  "Oh, him?  He's one of the richest Tuaregs in the region.  A drug smuggler.  No one can stand up to him because he owns 90% of their livestock and herds and has the money and influence to make their lives miserable."  Great, I thought, in trying to be low key and avoid terrorist kidnappings, our 'mission' gets hijacked by one of the top drug smugglers in the region who is now showing us all the wells we need to rehabilitate to benefit his livestock and keep his trade going.  The irony of the US military personnel training the Nigerien army to stand up against people like this very guy who was now sitting side by side with those same personnel was definitely NOT lost on ANY of us.

'Assessing' a broken well. I'm sure you could guess from my description, but Mr. Personality is third from the left.

But, as one must do in the daily unexpected events that occur in Niger everyday, we had to go along with it.  Cultural complexities are so tricky, and this was no exception. 

Driving across the desert was an experience in and of itself.  Absolutely nothing but sand as far as the eye could see and when you could see no further, mirages took over.  All the childhood stories and cartoons came back to me of mirages in the desert etc...mirages are so very real...matter of speaking!  I kept wondering how in the world the drivers knew where to go...there were no roads, they were just driving...with no landmarks that I could see to mark the way.  But I remembered that the Tuaregs are adapted to desert life and, after all, they must know how to navigate the desert or they wouldn't survive.

After a couple hours of driving like that, we finally arrive at the 'destination,' suddenly surrounded by hundreds of livestock, grazing on grass that had sprung up from recent few and far between rains.  Yep, I thought, the Tuaregs sure do know where to go in the desert.  Colorfully clad Tuareg men riding around in a circle on camels, with the women sitting in the middle playing drums and singing were there to greet us as we got out of the cars.  We were literally out in the middle of nowhere...not a structure to be seen.  I watched the scene in front of me...my Tuareg friend from my French class had told me about this custom...camels 'dancing' in a circle to the music.  It was an amazing sight to see, even though I knew it was all a show, probably also arranged by Mr. Personality, who was in the midst of it all, telling everyone what to do and making sure we were watching.

Watering hole made by recent rains

 

Community assessments, we found, were hard to do when we were suddenly in a different kind of 'community' than what we expected.  But we made it work, dividing the men and women and talking with them to learn about their culture, ways of life etc. It was actually quite fascinating as I'd never talked with a desert nomad group before to really learn about how they live and survive in the desert.  The hard part was, well, we were in the middle of the desert, in the middle of the day, with no trees/protection to be found.  Just when I thought my skin wouldn't be able to take it anymore and might spontaneously burst into flames, the women did one of the most beautiful things I could've imagined.  They took off their head-wraps, unfolded them, and stood around us, holding them as a canopy over our heads to protect us from the sun.  The effect was immediate and I felt like crying in relief and appreciation...they probably thought we were crazy for being out in the sun in the middle of the day, and making them come out too, but they still sacrificed their own comfort to shade us and our ill-adapted skin and bodies from the harsh desert sun. Over and over again, they pleaded with us to bring our NGO's work up here to Arlit and surrounding communities...there is so much need...and no one to help...

Tuareg women creating shelter for us from the sun. Zalima, on the far left, was our translator

The biggest need we saw, as can be assumed in a desert context, was water. this Tuareg boy was given this water to drink directly from the pond shown in the picture with the camels above

As we said our goodbyes, I couldn't help wonder if I had just experienced one of those nearly once-in-a-lifetime experiences. Unforgettable. Druglord and all.  The MREs (Meals - Ready to Eat) provided for our late lunch on the drive back by our military friends topped it all off.  I'd always heard about those meals but never could've imagined what they'd be like.  Speaking of nuclear power...I now know that MREs could, in fact, withstand a nuclear fall out!!  But, they are kinda handy in situations such as that one where we're in the middle of a desert....

The next and final day, we decided we should visit the hospitals to see what the complaints of the people were all about.  First was the government-run clinic.  I braced myself before-hand since I've never had a good experience at hospitals and clinics in West Africa.  I dread going every time...horrible facilities, dirty, smell of death, not enough doctors or nurses to go around, no medicine...it's always my number one reminder of how hard people have it here, moving me to tears wishing it was different and how I don't deserve the kind of care I've always received.

However, as soon as we stepped foot in this clinic, the experience was so different.  It was the cleanest, nicest clinic I'd ever seen in West Africa.  Even more, I couldn't believe how empty the place was of patients!  There were three nurses just following us around along with the doctor as if they had all the time in the world.  There were empty beds, disposal facilities, every patient seemed well taken care of.  Something didn't seem right!

We moved on to the mining company's hospital.  We drove through the entrance and again, I noticed we were the only car in the whole parking lot.  We walked down the deserted walkway to the main building and opened the door.  I immediately felt as if I'd walked into a building from the Dharma initiative: long sterile hallway, that aqua green/blue paint, everything from the 1970's, and completely empty.  Room after room fully equipped with beds, surgery tables, chairs, supplies, but no one around.  The head doctor (I half expected him to be that doctor on LOST and greet us with 'Namaste') led us down the hallway to his office at the end.  We made brief introductions and then he took us on a tour of the empty hospital before leading us back to answer questions.  It was, by far, the nicest hospital I'd seen in West Africa (which might not be saying much as I haven't really visited THAT many).  Super clean, equipped with good technology and supplies, well-staffed, air-conditioned (!!!!) birthing ward and patient rooms, etc.  When we met with him at the end, we brought up his opinion on the effects of the uranium on people and the most common illness he treats at the hospital.  "Hardly any illnesses related to uranium...we most commonly treat people who've gotten hurt in motorcycle accidents, to be honest." Wow...so no respiratory infections?  "Nope." And you don't treat anyone who is not related to miners, correct?  "Not quite true...yes, we are here primarily to treat miners and their families, but we treat anybody who comes through our doors, free of charge.  All they have to bring with them is a slip from the government-run clinic saying they couldn't treat whatever it is they have."  Mind blowing....how could that be possible?  Again, something just wasn't right! No effects of uranium? Free healthcare to all? How could the people themselves say such different things?  We asked his opinion on the conditions of the mine and he said there's nothing wrong with the mine conditions.  He even said Greenpeace came through awhile ago to do a study on the mines and the environmental impact etc., "They didn't find anything of interest," he claimed.  I made a mental note to look up that study later.  We asked several more questions and, at the end, like everyone else, the doctor pleaded for us to come and help in the area.  He said there's been only one other 'aid' agency that's come through Arlit in his 15 years working there...someone from the Peace Corps looking into sending a volunteer to work there, but then never sent one.  Why?  I wondered.  And why weren't there any other agencies like WFP (who is all over Niger), PLAN etc.? Most of all, if everyone said Arlit needed aid and NGOs so badly, why didn't the mine take responsibility for its own town it created and help fight the social issues and poverty all around it?

We all left the hospital shaking our heads at the entire experience of not only the hospital but the last three days.  Was this some strange episode of Twilight Zone?

The same airplane came the next morning to take us back to Niamey.  As we took off, I caught an aerial view of the uranium mines.  My first glimpse of them.

Aerial view of one of the mines

I mentioned in one of my first blog posts upon arriving in Niger about the multiple international mining companies who have rooted in Niger to exploit resources with few benefits to the Nigeriens themselves.  Billions of dollars made by these companies from a country second to the bottom on the Human Development Index.  Seeing some of that injustice firsthand had really stirred something even more inside.  Safe and sound back in my uranium-free house, you better believe I went right to work researching.   

Health impacts to those living near or working in uranium mines?  Well, turns out there really hasn't been much research done about it, and what is out there turns up with conflicting reports.  The biggest risks come from inhaling the particles or ingesting in food or water.  It doesn't permeate through skin.  Possible lung cancer, though one study said there's no risk of cancer...decreased white blood cell count, some possible birth defects, increased risk of diabetes and kidney disease.  Oh, and it looks like uranium miners have more first born female children.  A report published by Hibakusha Worldwide on this specific Arlit area has some strong words to say, though:

A large mountain of nearly 35 million tons of mining waste has accumulated over the years, uncovered and exposed to desert winds. The tailing dump is located close to the city's vegetable fields. Children regularly play in the radioactive rubble.  Until the 1980's, miners were not provided with even the most basic protective gear.  They mined in t-shirts and shorts, without masks, gloves or dosimeters. According to local NGOs, doctors did notice rising rates of lung cancer, but did not raise alarm. Countless miners have contracted lung cancer, but so far not a single case has been officially accepted as an occupational disease.

The report went on to say organizations like Greenpeace have found abnormal concentrations of radioactive radon in the air and water.  4 out of 5 tests of the drinking water found rates higher than WHO's recommended rate.  So I looked up Greenpeace's study and report, published April, 2010 and entitled: "Left in the dust: AREVA's radioactive legacy in the desert towns of Niger".  Apparently, to that point in time, a "comprehensive, independent assessment of the uranium mining impacts' in Arlit had never taken place. Even Greenpeace was only able to do a brief scientific study of the area but is calling for a comprehensive study to take place.  Their findings, if really true, are extremely disturbing.  This statement sums it up nicely:

The people of Arlit and Akokan continue to be surrounded by poisoned air, contaminated soil and polluted water. With each day that passes, Nigeriens are exposed to radiation, illness and poverty - while AREVA makes billions from their natural resources. The Nigerien people deserve to live in a safe, clean and healthy environment, and to share in the profits from the exploitation of their land.

Billions?  Yep, right on AREVA's website.  2008 boasted 13.1 billion euros in revenue from its operations worldwide.  200 million euros in sales from Niger's uranium production alone.  A third mine in the Arlit area is planned to start production in 2013 and will be the second largest uranium mine in the world.  More from Greenpeace?

On the streets of Akokan (near Arlit), radiation dose rate levels were found to be up to almost 500 times higher than normal background levels. A person spending less than one hour a day at that location would be exposed to more than the maximum allowable annual dose.

So what about the doctor from the mining hospital that claimed no respiratory problems?

Exposure to radioactivity can cause respiratory problems, birth defects, leukaemia and cancer, to name just a few health impacts. Disease and poor health abound in this region, and death rates linked to respiratory problems are twice that of the rest of the country. Yet AREVA has failed to take responsibility for any impacts. In fact, its company-controlled hospitals have been accused of misdiagnosing cases of cancer as HIV. It claims there has never been a case of cancer attributable to mining in 40 years—what it doesn’t say is that the local hospitals do not staff any occupational doctors, making it impossible for someone to be diagnosed with a work-related illness.

Other evidence from the study showed that AREVA is not following international safety norms in its operations of the mines and disposal of mine waste.  But its website claims 'safe, clean and green technology' in its uranium extraction.  Apparently, after Greenpeace published its report, AREVA came right out with its own report to address the accusations called "AREVA and Niger, a Sustainable Partnership"It's website also claims a sustainable partnership between AREVA and Niger, boasting that:

As the country’s first private employer and main industrial partner for the past 40 years, AREVA is a major stakeholder in the Nigerien economy. Mining activity generates important revenues that have a positive impact on the development of social and public initiatives (employment, population health, training, infrastructure development, etc.).  AREVA has been contributing to the improvement of living conditions of local communities for a long time.

In the report, AREVA claims regular monitoring of mining activity under Niger's supervision, environmental protection, and health and safety for its workers.  It even mentions that the Greenpeace study "seems to basically rely on the public's fears and disinformation, which does not bring anything constructive to the process" and later calls them hostile. It claims the same standards for the Niger mines are used for its European and Canadian mines, and that exposure to radiation of its workers is regularly monitored and comes out 15% lower than the regulatory limit.  It also claims to regularly test the water, air and soil quality which stays within WHO's recommended limits.  What about those social and public initiatives? AREVA says it has spent over 25 million Euros on community development over the past six years, 37 million Euros in various taxes to Niger and 3 million Euros in 'societal contributions.' In Arlit, it says it started and equipped a library for the general public and also holds constant on-site trainings for its workers.  It backed up the doctor's claim that the hospital is open to all residents free of charge and said it spent 1.14 million euros in 2009 to run the hospital.  They do acknowledge the higher rates of respiratory problems, but equate it with the general conditions associated with living in a desert environment with all the dust and sand.  And finally, AREVA has consistently responded to humanitarian need in Niger in the ways of food assistance and flood assistance to those affected by the crises.

Four days after I left Arlit, a headline came across my Niger Google news alert:  Workers strike at AREVA's Somair uranium mine.  I quickly clicked on the link to find the workers had started an open-ended strike due to poor living and working conditions.  Not much more information was said, but again, the workers themselves seemed basically unhappy.

There's still much to process with this experience and ensuing research.  As I reflect on this story, all the different people I talked to, all the different perspectives, conflicting stories...I can't help but think this is what it must be like for a lot of similar situations all over the world.  If AREVA was doing everything right, and ensuring the safest environment possible, and taking care of its workers and their families, wouldn't it show through to those very workers and family and thus the community?  So if (and only if because ultimately I might not ever truly be able to say) injustice really is occurring in Arlit due to AREVA, the prevailing attitude of complacency ensues:  what are the lives of a few thousand Nigeriens dubbed some of the poorest people on Earth in the middle of an easily overlooked desert compared to billions of dollars from a lucrative trade run by some of the wealthiest people in a rich nation?  Yet, this is only one mine of several in Niger and thousands more in Africa (now I'm seeing all the mine news such as the recent events in South Africa)...along with thousands other situations like it around the world.  Not to mention mining is only one trade, one form of injustice in a sea of multitudes of others.  So what now? What do you think?

Igloo vs. Mudhut

I got a postcard today.

Just as I'd laid my forehead down on my desk, in frustration at a series of distressing events that made me wonder again why I'm doing what I'm doing.  A series of distressing events today in a long line of frustrating weeks turned into three months that have curbed my motivation to write.

I glanced at the picture before quickly turning it around to read the penciled words hand-written just for me. 

What motivates someone who I have not seen in 11 years, who I have only had one real conversation with in those 11 years, to take the time to send me a postcard all the way from Alaska?  How does it happen that someone I barely knew in high school and even barely know anything about now would send a colorful piece of cardboard through many planes, over an ocean and desert on which is written two sentences that would inspire me to publish a post tonight?

Alaska.  Written underneath a beautiful twilight scene of an igloo, warm light emanating from within, as if it was the coziest place on earth, and mountains as the backdrop.  I had now taken time to study the front of the postcard after reading the handwritten note a few times.

Alaska.  What an opposite environment to the current one where snow, ice and mountains are only rumors and legend to Nigeriens. I pondered the irony of a home made with snow bricks looking so very similar to those made with mud bricks here...which led to marveling once again at the incredible resiliency of humans and their capacity to live in extreme circumstances all over the world.  (Also on my mind because my housemates and I watched an episode of the BBC's Human Planet last night - the oceans one - where we saw a man who can hunt underwater, sinking 20 meters and walking along the bottom as if he he was on land, holding his breath for 5+ minutes as if it all were nothing)

I showed the picture to a Nigerien colleague sitting at the desk next to me and tried to explain a house made with snow/ice bricks.  His wonder only deepened mine.  I read the note a few more times, strangely not feeling so frustrated anymore...the days/weeks/months worries seemed a bit more manageable.  Carried it home with me and stared at the picture for a long time, reflecting on life, friendship, paths, connections.  Strangely not wondering anymore why I'm doing what I'm doing.

A high school friend. Eleven years.  Thousands of miles. Opposite environments. Two sentences. Coziest place on earth. Right here.

Typical Day in the Life

Typical day in the Life (when I'm not in the field):

Two and a half hour meeting in the morning at UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner of Refugees) on the relocation of Malian refugees in the north of Niger currently in temporary sites to a more permanent site.  Stating what my organization and others represented around the table can and will do in the camp relating to water, shelter, food, sanitation, hygiene etc., and listening to everyone argue how frustrated they are with MSF (Medecins Sans Frontieres) who were yet again not represented at the meeting yet are supposedly running the WASH sector of the camp.  Oh, and listening to a French representative from ACF (Accion Contre la Faim) trying to take over the meeting (though he wasn't the one who called it) and complain that nobody was volunteering to do anything when at the end of the meeting his own organization hadn't volunteered to do anything.  The whole meeting was in French, creating a somewhat indecipherable set of Franglais notes in my notebook as I tried to write in English what was being discussed in French.

On to a 1.5 hour meeting at OCHA (United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs) to receive the latest coordination news of humanitarian efforts across Niger, and reading the mind-boggling monetary figures of how much is being poured into development efforts here.  United States is the number one donor by far...even though USAID (United States Agency for International Development) doesn't even have an official office here.  The first part of the meeting I couldn't stop thinking about the sweat running down all parts of me and wondering why nobody had turned the air or fans on in 108 degree weather.  Finally, halfway through, the meeting head asked if anyone else was hot to which the whole room sighed in relief as he got up to turn the air on.  More Franglais notes then ensued.

Back to the office to grab a plate of rice and sauce before heading to the office that I share with 5 others on the second floor.  Another 6 hours of drafting a near million dollar proposal on a 3-year food security program we plan to implement in Niger, interrupted (happily) about 3 times by deliveries of shots of my favorite traditional Touareg tea, to keep me going of course :-)

17 tabs now open in my browser (from left to right):

• Google Translator (French/English)
• French conjugation tool
• Africa News - Headlines, stories and video from CNN.com International
• Famine Early Warning Systems Network (FEWS NET)
• USAID Niger - Food Security Outlook
• Sahel Food Crisis website
• Sahel Crisis OCHA
• Sahel Dashboard Feb 2012
• Global Response in Niger manual by OCHA
• Relief Web - Niger
• WFP - Niger (World Food Programme)
• Official Niger government website
• Medair -  Relief workers abducted in Afghanistan
• UNHCR
• Moringa-the miracle plant
• Gmail
• Blogger (just opened to post this)

Hurriedly pack everything up and drive off through the maze of Niamey traffic to the French Cultural Center for French class.  Afterward got in my car, turned the key to absolutely no response from the engine.  Dead.  Several calls later, Hassane shows up on his moto, gets a troop of guys standing around watching the whole thing to help push, and stalls it into starting. Thanked him profusely and drove away only to find myself a couple kilometers down the road stalled again in the middle of a 3-way intersection, at night, in the middle of Niamey.  I've never heard so many honking horns in my life.  Another call, Hassane again, more pushing, harder to start this time, but finally some life.  Hassane decided to drive me this time.  Made it home.  More thanks.  Collapsed under the air conditioning to recover.  Power went out.  Power went on.  Power went out.  Power went on.  End of day.

The Plight of Women

My thoughts lately have been swirling around the plight of women.

A friend just sent me the link to this article:  Saving the Lives of Moms published on Mother's Day.  If you have time, take a moment to read about this largely unheard of yet life devastating injury among women.

I remember the first time I heard of fistulas and, sadly, it wasn't until I was already in grad school.  The night I did find out about it was definitely a night that marked me.  Our professor, without any introduction, proceeded to show the documentary A Walk to Beautiful. At the end of the documentary, there wasn't one dry eye in the class...men and women alike were deeply moved.  The plight of women continues to pull at my deepest heartstrings. 

My eyes were first truly opened witnessing it first-hand day in and day out in my village in Burkina, from Female Genital Mutilation to domestic abuse, to rape, to hard labor morning until night.  Four year old girls carrying their one, even two-year old siblings on their backs.  Five and six year old girls already carrying heavy wood and water on their heads.  In my Burkinabe family, the family I lived and shared life with for two years, it was little 7 year old Lucee who got up at the crack of dawn already sweeping the courtyard, washing her younger cousin Beneditte, off to look for wood to cook breakfast, all while her brothers got ready to go to school, a luxury she probably would never have.  It was 17 year old Elise who was left to bring up her young baby while the father moved to the city after he found out she was pregnant.  Also never having the opportunity to go to school Elise confided in me that she'd always dreamed of writing her name on a paper or being able to decipher what all those lines written everywhere said.  If anything she did required being able to read, she was at the mercy of the educated men around her who didn't always have her best interests in mind.  The stories of the village male school teachers forcing sexual favors from their few young female students in exchange for advancement to higher levels, often causing unwanted pregnancies causing the girls to drop out anyway.  It was Honorine who hid her two baby girls from the village elders coming to perform genital mutilation on them, having suffered the consequences of the procedure herself from when it was done to her as a young girl, and now having to suffer the social consequences of protecting her own girls from it.

Ever since witnessing all this and more firsthand, my passion for seeing women empowered and given a voice only grows. 

Just the other week, I came across another article, Sold Into a Life of Despair, dealing with another huge issue mostly affecting women, human trafficking, with Burkina highlighted as having the worst trafficking problem in West Africa.

Finally, and perhaps most disheartening is the one article that has come up over and over in the past week and forwarded to me several times as people come across it and think of me in Niger:  Save the Children's latest State of the World's Mothers Report released last week puts Niger as the worst place to be a mother out of 165 ranked countries.  The study takes into account the well-being of mothers (healthcare, education and economic opportunity) as well as the health of their children.  When I first read it, and even since, I sit in incredulity that I 'happen' to be living in, in essence, the worst place to be a woman.  Granted, that's just the perspective of one organization and one research study but it's definitely made all the top headlines around the world.

Just last week I had the opportunity to see more of Niger and to visit our work in the villages.  We work in some of the most un-reached villages of Niger-those villages left alone by most other NGOs.  For one village, we off-roaded through the mostly desert terrain for 2 1/2 hours before arriving, nearly getting stuck several times in the seemingly endless sandpits.  After arriving and exploring the village a bit, meeting and talking to the people, 'food-crisis' doesn't adequately describe their situation.  Right before leaving, two ladies approached me, each with a baby in her arms.  One baby seemed 'normal' though small as is common around here...but the other one made my heart nearly stop.  Basically a skeleton of a baby with only hours to live, his eyes already filming over.  A month old little boy named Saadou.  The mother was too sick to bring Saadou and his twin brother Soude from the next village over so it was the aunts who now stood in front of me.  The headline wouldn't stop playing in my head 'worst place to be a mother...niger...worst place to be a mother..."

How to even help a situation like the one Niger is facing?  One of, if not the highest fertility rate in the world couple with one of the highest infant mortality rates in the world.  Women losing their babies as if it was a natural part of life yet knowing with their maternal instinct that it can't be natural.  And the issue of women not having a say in who or when they marry or even when or how often they'll have babies.  I don't want this to become a man-bashing blog post, yet I do believe that men must be a part of women's empowerment initiatives or we'll simply constantly be preaching to the choir.  I also must admit here that I was saddened by my own organization that went from village to village, white men mainly talking with the male elders/leaders of the village, even discussing issues such as wells and water when it's nearly 100% women who use those wells. 

But there is hope.  Good things are happening.  In fact, the first article and the documentary I discussed earlier are full of hope and restoration and healing.  A hospital is opening in Niger to help women with fistulas, organizations are helping trafficked women in Burkina, a hospital opened in Burkina to help reverse the female genital mutilation done to women so they can lead more full lives.  And if there's one thing I learned from living among the Burkinabe women in my village and meeting others since, it's that these very women who suffer the greatest are the most resilient, ingenious, beautiful creatures I have and will ever meet.  I learn from these women life lessons that are irreplaceable and can't be found elsewhere.  What better place to learn to be a good mother than the very place dubbed the worst place to be a mother because they are moving forward against all odds, surviving and living where it seems impossible.

I must admit, the past few days have been filled with a pain in my heart for some personal situations I've been facing, largely revolving around being a woman.  As soon as I start to feel sorry for myself, though, please remind me to come and read my own blog post on the plight of women around me to kick my sorry self out of the self pity and focus my energies on what's truly important in the world.

Contextual Marketing

I was a marketing major in under-grad.  Granted, I was originally pursuing a Business Management degree and found out that a Marketing degree only took 16 more credit hours so I tacked it on mainly for how it would look on my diploma to have double-majored in both Management and Marketing.  I must admit that I was both fascinated with and completely turned off of the worlds of marketing and advertising.  It only took Intro to Marketing to make me realize the big scheme to get people to buy more things they really don't need in the first place and I could never walk into any store after that without being paranoid that I was buying something only because ‘they’ had psychoanalyzed someone of my demographic to trick me into buying it.  After I graduated, I never pursued anything marketing-related but have always been aware of the marketing taking place all around me all day, every day.  

Even, if not especially, right here in Niger.

The other day I was out and about around Niamey going to all sorts of meetings and running errands.  Nothing too unusual until I noticed a camel on the corner of one of the major intersections not far from the office.  Again, not unusual as camels being led through the streets of Niamey is also a daily sight.  This camel, though, was draped in a huge orange cape with the very familiar cell phone company name 'Orange' written across both sides.  My eyes followed the rope to the person leading the camel and he too was fully decked out from top to bottom in a neon orange outfit with ‘Orange’ written all over it, complete with what looked like an orange jester hat.  Yep, one of those hats with points going every which direction and balls on the end.  Both he and the camel looked extremely bored despite the flurry of activity you find at any major intersection in Niamey.  I have often wondered at the marketing techniques used in West Africa, but this was a new one for me.  Most marketing tactics I’d seen to that point were ones that had been copied from western countries justified as techniques that people figured obviously worked having come from ‘those countries.’  In my limited studies, however, marketing is best when used contextually and targeted specifically toward the consumer who buys the item.  “Now this,” I thought, “is good marketing.”  It didn’t stop there, though, as I continued all over town and found it was a mass coverage of the city for one day.  Every intersection had at least one camel and many times four, with a bright orange camel and guide on each corner.

Way better marketing than even Camel’s cigarettes, which, if you think about it, are completely contextually inappropriate.  No one finds camels roaming the streets of an American city.  Another reason to enjoy living in Niamey.

Corruption and Culture

I had dinner this past weekend with five new friends I’ve made since arriving in Niamey.  One is a teacher at the local international school, one is a teacher at the local university, and the remaining four of us work for my organization.  All of us have spent multiple years in Africa.  A huge dinner and delicious dessert set the stage for an evening of good, long conversation.  Since it was ultimately a birthday celebration, we talked about birthdays, life stories, what brought some of us to where we are now etc.  Then the discussion changed slightly to Niger, culture, and the economy.  The person who had lived here longest in Niger, eight years to be exact, remarked that there seem to be a ton more ‘whiteys’ now in Niger than there ever was before, especially with the Chinese running the uranium plants, the Canadians with their gold mine that doubles as Canadian soil where they simply fly the gold directly in and out of that space and others.  I threw in how it saddened me that these companies are coming in, exploiting Niger’s resources without any of it actually going into the local economy…basically a form of rape to me.  I was surprised to see what effect this had around the table as the university teacher soon countered my comment saying the Nigeriens let it happen; someone, some Nigerien, had to have been paid off at some point and let these companies in.  She then went on to say she had a conversation with her Nigerien university students recently who were complaining about the same thing-these foreign companies exploiting Niger’s resources.  The teacher responded to the students by saying “Well, you let this happen…you put the president in power and are letting this corruption happen.”  I immediately responded asking how in the world the Nigerien people had a say in any of those decisions, even in the president they had/have, or whoever had made that decision to allow the companies to exploit their resources.  “You can’t truly believe that if Nigeriens knew the whole story they would have ‘allowed’ this corruption of their governments and exploitation of their resources to happen…”  The teacher looked at me in disbelief and went on to give a short speech to us at the table about how “of course the Nigeriens put them in power, of course they allowed this to happen.  It’s their culture.  Corruption is a part of their culture, it’s perfectly fine for those in power to exploit in any way they want to so of course the people allowed it.”  I could feel my blood pressure literally rising with the thoughts just bursting through my head, made worse by the nodding heads of agreement all around me at the table.  I wondered if I should express any of these thoughts to keep the conversation going but as I was outnumbered five to one and I felt I needed to think about it some more, I bit my tongue and forced myself to be quiet.…plus, I barely knew these people, really…and, even more, what if they were right?  

Of course, at first glance, I could see her point, myself having lived in West Africa for a couple of years and seeing it all first-hand:  the bribery that goes into getting anything done, the power struggles, the systems in place rendering basic procedures impossible, the feelings of entitlement to other people’s well earned money just because of relation or status.  Even more,  I’ve seen these situations and read about these topics in many countries across Africa.  Believe me, I’ve asked myself several times if it’s just the culture and they allow all these things to happen anyway so it’s their fault ultimately in the end that all these bad things are happening and that they can’t get a let up economically etc.  

But I also see the decades of oppressive systems these cultures have been forced to live under, the stripped resources (especially human) that has happened for over a 100 years, the desperation of living day to day and trying to feed your family.  And I’ve also lived side by side with Africans who looked down upon anything dishonest being done with community-earned money, communities mobilize to change for the better, to remove those in power who lacked integrity and put in place those who truly cared for the well-being of the whole.  I think of countries all over the world that have been faced with the same stigmas and situations.  The oppressed rising up to be the oppressors simply because that’s all they’ve known…it’s their only model of authority (see Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paolo Freire).  (Perhaps I should insert here that I’m writing this with a view that ultimately, corruption is a form of oppression)  Is corruption cultural, or is it a human race that is just naturally flawed?  Is the U.S. any different to have fled an oppressive culture in order to have religious freedom in a new land only to oppress those it encountered as soon as it landed in the new world?  And are we, as foreigners, any less corrupt for exploiting the resources of developing countries, taking advantage of their state of poverty and/or lack of systems in place, selling them and buying the goods in our own countries without a thought to where they came from?  (a whole other topic…)  

To think that if Nigeriens truly knew the big picture, if all were told exactly what was happening or what would happen if outside countries and companies came in to strip them of their land and resources, if Nigeriens knew what could happen if in fact much of that money was poured back into the economy or if the products leaving the country were taxed for better infrastructure, education, health systems, if Nigeriens really knew what life could be like if just systems were in place…well, I find it hard to believe they would actually still choose or allow all of that to still take place and for a president who made those decisions to be in power.  Ask those families in most of the villages across Niger who still don’t have schools or clinics nearby, who had no say in the last election, if they care that another country is making millions upon millions of dollars off resources in their own backyard that could be spent on providing their villages with education and health care…give them the whole picture and then ask them if they allowed it to happen as a result of their corrupt culture.  Just ask and see…then let me know.  Maybe I’m completely wrong.  Maybe my optimistic view of humankind shouldn’t be so optimistic after all…like the fact that it is much more well-known in the US about where the goods Americans buy are coming from and the conditions of the sweatshops and the child labor that is poured into the products.  Yet, Americans continue buying these products and organizations like Wal-Mart keep expanding.  So maybe knowledge isn’t what will actually move people, such as Nigeriens, to action against corruption or oppression.  Especially if it really is cultural and 'just the way they are.'

I welcome your thoughts.

Outside Niamey

As I’ve mentioned before, Niger is experiencing a major food crisis…a topic of discussion everywhere I go, especially in the NGO/humanitarian world.  Much of my organization’s focus is on the food security situation and we are currently running several feeding/food distribution projects.  We launched one just last week in the Tilaberi region of Niger, north of Niamey, giving me the opportunity for my first glimpse of Niger outside of Niamey.  The excitement started before we left Niamey, even before we left the office.  Walking to work that morning, I turned the corner to see two Gendarmerie (army) pick-up trucks each loaded with 6 soldiers carrying guns sitting in the back plus two in the front cabs.  These were armed escorts to go before and behind our two NGO SUVs just for the trip an hour north of Niamey to attend a 15 minute ceremony to launch the food distribution program.  I, personally, had never experienced anything like it.  To that point, I had never felt unsafe at all so all I could think was ‘Is this really necessary?!’ As many of you know, I’m not a fan of weapons at all or even any kind of military force so as I stared at the gleaming gun barrels, I couldn’t help but be uneasy at the slightest thought of being in any kind of situation where these 16 gendarmes would be given the opportunity to use those guns.  You can imagine the scene we made everywhere we went that day…even just leaving Niamey with our flashing head and tail lights and the gendarmes stopping all traffic for us to go through. 

Anyway, I really was able to take my focus off the guns long enough to take in the landscape as we drove.  I could see first-hand the effects of deforestation and desertification in Niger.  Where crops once grew, sand was slowly but surely taking over, making the ground completely useless for growing much of anything.  My colleagues with me in the car explained the gradual process of soil becoming sand.  With a lack of trees and grass to stop the winds from carrying away the finer clay and dust from the soil, only sand remains.  No nutrients remain in sandy soil and water doesn’t soak but rather just runs off.  To add to this landscape, we passed a few livestock that had died probably due to starvation.  In this Muslim culture, unless an animal’s throat is slit to kill it, the meat can’t be eaten.  In other words, the meat of an animal that suffered before dying cannot be eaten…even as people themselves are struggling to find enough nutrients for their own bodies.  The ironies seen already as we were on our way to launch a feeding program…