Photos of Life In Bole

Troy and I traveled 75 km north to a town called Gindabo to stay with a friend of Troy’s named John, his wife Esther, and their three children, Pheobe, Williams and baby Patricia.  
John fought his way into school and taught himself English at age 19.  He is one of the smartest men I have ever met.
John grows sorghum for Guiness to turn into their famous beer and a popular malt drink.  He is a great example of how private enterprise can help local farmers earn a decent wage.  But in true Ghanaian fashion he doesn’t save any of his money - instead all the children in the village know they can come over to John’s to get a good meal if there’s not enough food at their house – he invests in his community, not the stock market. 

The photo to the right shows Troy helping John unload Guiness-quality sorghum seeds to plant on his farm.   
Below is a card my best friend Jacquie made me that now hangs on our front door.

Above is a picture of me building our wardrobe. We’ve been fixing up our house little by little with pictures on the walls and crazy-luxurious things like table cloths. I love it; despite the green paint it’s wonderful place to come home to. 

We’ve had a lot of dinner parties at our house too.  Thanks to spices my mom sent and recipes from my uncle Craig, our Canadian cooking has become quite famous around the  neighbourhood.

In the photo above, from left to right is Shafiq and Haki who live in our compound, Troy, Sarah, our fearless EWB leader who came to visit us for the weekend, me, Jody, an EWB volunteer placed with the district assembly in Bole, and Sherifa, my dear friend and the wife of Shafiq.
Sherifa and Shafiq invited us over to celebrate Eid Al Adha with them.  They fed us until we nearly burst and then we all relaxed watching the Miss India South Africa competition on TV. Not the highest quality programming but Sherifa and I had fun imitating the dancers.

This is the volleyball court near our house.  I invited three friends from work (in red, yellow and purple) to join in on our regular game and we had a blast.

 

 

Sherifa came out to join us too.  Yes, she played volleyball dressed like that and still kicked my butt.

 

So that’s what our free time looks like these days.
Truly, the fun never stops in Bole!

Scorpion In My Bedroom

I came home last Friday to find a scorpion crawling on the wall just above my bed.

 

I was not pleased.

 

 

The scorpion did not live for much longer after that.

This is what a dead scorpion looks like – scraped off the wall by the cover of the book that killed it.

And my bedroom is a safe place once again, thanks to Troy and his steady book-swinging arm.

I Love My Work: Seeing Beyond Agriculture As a Business

Skepticism, not the desire to do what is needed most, seems to be the only thread that unites all of development.

Each NGO is critical of all the other NGOs. This prevents the collaboration that is so crucial in the development sector to help us collectively learn from our mistakes and not repeat or do overlapping work.

I think the skepticism stems from the belief that your NGO is the only one that understands how to do development; you are the only one doing it right. Everyone else is doing it wrong. In reality, everyone is trying to achieve the same goal – improving the livelihood of others – and collaboration would go a long way to help us navigate the complexity of the work.

This is why I love what I’m doing.  The Agriculture As a Business (AAB) program that was developed by EWB and the Ghanaian Ministry of Food and Agriculture (MoFA) isn’t another microloan program. It doesn’t give boreholes to communities, food to students, or combines, tractors or fertilizers to farmers. It doesn’t offer vocational training in soap making or leadership training to youth. It doesn’t introduce villages to new seed varieties or technologies.  It doesn’t ‘sensitize’ farmers to proper pesticide use. It doesn’t put girls in school or buy produce from farmers at high prices. It doesn’t do any of these things that most NGOs involved in agriculture do.

What AAB does, is support them all. That’s the beauty of it! 

The program is designed for farmer groups.  Almost all NGOs in Northern Ghana work with farmers in some way (not surprising as farmers make up over 85% of the population); many use MoFA to do the implementation of their project.  Almost all NGO projects work with farmer groups instead of individuals because it’s a more efficient way of reaching lots of people.  Almost all projects rely on the farmer groups to be strong for the project to succeed but rarely does project implementation invest in strengthening the farmers – they expect and depend on the groups to already be strong. 

AAB actually focuses on strengthening farmers and farmer groups. The curriculum itself focuses on group meetings, record keeping, finances, planning a group project, marketing and evaluating but the outcome of AAB goes well beyond these simple business skills. 

In the two months I have been implementing AAB I have finished the curriculum with four farmer group. (See the post entitled “Let Me Introduce You to My Farmers” if you would like to read about them.)

When I started, most of the groups did not hold regular meetings, have any savings, nor do any work on a group farm. In short, they were not really groups but they called themselves such because they know NGOs only work with groups.

Now every member of the group speaks up in their weekly or bi-weekly meetings, all the members contribute to their savings, they have planned a group project together that will earn them all some extra money, and they are confident in their abilities as a group to maximize their profit by planning their ‘farm business’ and negotiating a good price for their produce at market.   

Even better is that through AAB the farmers have built a solid, trusting relationship with their MoFA Agricultural Extension Agent (AEA). The AEAs respect their farmers more after hearing their insights instead of always closing their ears and mindlessly disseminating technologies from NGO and government projects.

I see the AEAs now working to help their farmers because they want to see their farmers succeed. When AEAs listen to their farmers it means that farmers have a voice within their government and this can help change government projects to better address real farmer challenges. These are amazing changes to witness that will continue to help farmers long after I have left Ghana.

For the reasons mentioned above, I am convinced that AAB on its own does great things for farmers, farmer groups, and their AEAs but I come back to my original point that AAB also has the ability to support projects from other NGOs.

I like to think of AAB, and the strength it builds in farmer groups and AEA-to-farmer relationships, as the first rung of the development ladder. Other NGO projects that come to MoFA or directly to farmer groups with microloans, training, technology, etc. are the second rung. But without that first rung the second is unreachable. It’s too high up and the projects fail because the first rung isn’t there; the groups aren’t functioning or the extension from AEAs isn’t focused on the best interest of the farmer. 

Thus, AAB works in two ways. It builds farmer groups up so they can make a good profit without outside help but it also prepares groups to succeed with other projects if an NGO decides to work with them. It’s a great feeling to know that no matter what happens next, these farmers will be better off.

Let Me Introduce You to My Farmers

Monday to Thursday of every week I travel to a different village to meet with a farmer group. All four groups have spent our last 7 meetings learning how to plan their farming activities to make the most profit possible through a program called Agriculture As A Business (AAB) that was created by EWB and the Ministry of Food and Agriculture (MoFA). This week, all four of the groups finished the AAB program and I am so proud of their accomplishments I just have to share them with you!Monday is Esunga Farmer Group in Mandari, a village 5 kilometers from the Black Volta and Cote D’Ivoire border. The AAB program has helped Esunga plan their 5-acre rice farm.  The group will likely get a loan from the central government to cover the cost of inputs (about CAD $1000). After expenses, they expect to earn a profit of $830 but don’t know the interest rate on the loan so that could not be factored in. Typical interest rates for farmers range from 15% from internationally supported banks to 35% and more from local institutions. The banks justify the high interest because of the tragically low repayment rates. In an average situation, Esunga will walk away with about $600. But the group knows loans from the government typically show up late, if at all, so they have a contingency to plant only 2 acres and pay for the cost of inputs with their bi-weekly contributions and group labour. Tuesday is Nyorpeo Farmer Group in Jama.  Nyorpeo is scaling-up their 4-acre maize farm to 8-acres this year and are paying for the scale-up with money they earned selling sheep to be slaughtered for Eid Al Adha.  Their MoFA Agricultural Extension Agent (AEA), Ditcha, encouraged them to wait to sell until Eid when prices would be highest and the group earned an average of $100 per animal – a huge sum by Ghanaian standards. They expect to earn a profit of $1250 from their maize next year.Wednesday I meet with Nuoriyeni Farmer Group in Seripe.  This group has no start-up capital but wants to sow 2 acres of peanuts. The costs of the inputs is about $400 but they plan to do all the labour (ploughing, planting, weeding, harvesting, drying) themselves so they only need to come up with $75 to pay for seeds.  They have devised a plan to get the money in time for planting which sees the members making 75 cent contributions every two weeks and working on other people’s farms to make up the balance. They expect to make $320. And Thursday I meet with Awuladese Farmer Group in Bole. This group has an unpaid loan from 2006 with the Agriculture Development Bank but, thanks to encouragement from their AEA, Eugene, they are now starting to pay off the remaining $275 they owe.  When they do, they will be able to get another loan from this forgiving bank at a 15% interest rate (thanks to IFAD) and will use this money to plant 20 acres of peanuts. Their expected profit is $2000, even after including the interest. That being said, they know there is always a chance they won’t get the expected loan so they have a contingency plan.  Each member will contribute 37 cents per week to cover the costs of planting just 2 acres of peanuts which will earn them about $350. 

$600, $1250, $320, $2000/$350 for one year of farming. They are insignificant sums to a Canadian audience but to a Ghanaian farmer, who usually just produces enough to live on through individual subsistence farms, this money means that they have a tiny bit to line their pockets if bad luck befalls them. 

And while getting farmers to keep records, plan ways to market their goods and think about costs and benefits probably seems a bit immaterial to a Canadian audience, believe me, these are HUGE steps forward.  Most of the farmers I work with have never gone to school, and those that have are still illiterate. Most of the groups were haphazardly thrown together by MoFA to get NGO agricultural projects into the district. And most of the groups struggled to make a profit from their group activities or had simply abandoned their group work all together.

Two months of Agriculture As a Business training later, illiterate farmers are now keeping records with creative uses of stones, beans, marks on the wall, etc. which means they are much less likely to get cheated; the quietest members feel important enough to contribute to group discussions and decision making; and groups know they are powerful enough to negotiate fair prices with buyers and make a profit they are happy with.  These are all small steps that form the foundation of huge change in the lives of the farmers I have had the pleasure of getting to know.

The Craziest Thing

Amidst the laughter and catching up that characterizes a phone call home, my best friend asked me “So what’s the craziest thing you’ve seen in Ghana?”

“Uh, I don’t know. There hasn’t really been anything I would call crazy.” A disappointing answer, no doubt.

But as the conversation continued I realized how many things that astonish people back home have become absolutely normal to me. Writing about how normal everything is makes for a pretty boring blog post, but thanks to Jacquie I have been reminded of the Canadian perspective of my day-to-day life and, I must admit, it’s pretty freaking crazy sometimes.

I’ll start with the fun stuff.
I commute on a fire-engine-red motorcycle named Porsche. I learned to ride on what is widely agreed to be the worst road in Ghana: a 250km stretch of muddy potholes from Tamale to Bole. It took two days. I crashed three times, was covered in mud head-to-toe, but remained uninjured (Porsche got a broken rear-view mirror and a dented gas tank for those who are concerned). It rivals going three days in the village with almost no water as the hardest thing I’ve ever done - and I totally loved it!

  

 

 

 

 

 

A big part of my job is teaching business skills to farmers. I ride out to see them. I hang in the village for the day (inevitably learning more than I teach) and then I ride home. Amazing scenery aside, I can’t even begin to describe the feeling at the end of a farmer group meeting when everyone gets up and starts singing and dancing. It really shouldn’t be called ‘work’.

There are basically three meals eaten in Ghana: mashed potatoes with peanut oil, beans with peanut oil, rice with peanut oil, and for a snack, peanuts. You will never find a Ghanaian who is allergic to peanuts.

It is insulting to pass or receive an item with one’s left hand. However, it is standard practice to pee in the shower and pick one’s nose in public.

The electrical outlets at work are always full with employee cell phones because many of them don’t have electricity in their homes.

I shower with a bucket. I do my laundry and wash my dishes in the same bucket. I have a giant bucket of water on my porch for the days when the well runs dry.

I was given a sack of yams, some delicious home-brewed beer made from sorghum, and a live chicken as a gift after my last farmer group meeting. 

I had to bribe a policeman a dollar (“You give me a gift.”) at a checkpoint near my home for him to let me pass.

When it rains, the world stops. Everyone gets around by foot or by motorcycle so when the rain comes down it’s just impossible to go anywhere.

I drink my coffee, yoghurt, peanut butter, and water out of little plastic bags.

Everywhere I go, groups of children sing me the song “Obrunie (white person), How are you? I am fine. Thhhhhank you!”

The name Ashley is very difficult to pronounce for a Ghanaian and those who have heard it before know it only from the (male) soccer player, Ashley Cole. Everyone here calls me Aisha.

 

And finally my home:
In the centre of the compound that I share with seven families there is a lime tree.

 

All of my furniture is made of teak wood and I built my own wardrobe (in the photo below) and bookshelf this morning before work. My room is concrete covered by lime-green paint with brown windows and doors. At least a third of the compounds in Northern Ghana are painted this colour; the rest are electric neon blue - or mud. I’m growing to like the green; I’m told it’s the colour of Islam and it’s a bit like living in a lime tree-forest.

 

When I showed up the room was packed to the brim with bags and  bags of (yes, you guessed it) peanuts. It cost a meagre $500 (and four tins of Raid) to make this concrete box a happy home.

And in the end it’s just like living anywhere else. Regardless of how ‘crazy’ some of the differences are, it is painless and instinctive to adapt. You truly can get used to anything. So my answer to Jacquie’s question: The craziest thing is that happiness, and a sense of belonging, can be found everywhere.

UBC Science Connect

Now for a little bit of self-promotion -
I'm featured in the latest issue of the UBC Science Alumni Magazine!

http://www.science.ubc.ca/sites/science.ubc.ca/files/connect/2009_4/4-2009.htm

What is Poverty?

Abungamuri is a wealthy man. He is head of his 30-member family and lives in a mud compound about 25 km from the closest town, Navrongo. He has at least three wives and his sons also have multiple wives. He has a heap load of cows, land, crops and family. But he, and all the members of his household, live on less than $1 per day – the definition of extreme poverty.

Michael is also a wealthy man. He lives in the town of Paga and has a full gym, flat screen TV, rocking stereo system, countless movies, etc. He works for the Ghanaian government installing water towers, is unmarried, and has a level of disposable income that is rarely found in Ghana. However, his home is a single concrete room, with one small barred window, no running water, a shared shower and latrine, and flaking green wall paint.

So why do I call these men wealthy? And what is poverty anyway?

They are wealthy because both Michael and Abungamuri chose their lifestyles and are being adequately compensated for work they enjoy and excel at.

Now I’ve only been here two weeks, but so far it seems there are only two ways to be rich in Ghana: 1. You’re VERY hard working and really good at farming; or 2. You are fortunate to be born into a family with connections and/or money for post secondary education and you are smart enough to get one of the few high paying jobs.

So what about everyone else? Imagine for a minute that you only have those two options open to you. What if you wanted to be an architect, start your own company, or become a chef? Sorry, you’re a farmer.

Doing something you don’t really want to, that doesn’t pay all that well, so that you can keep you and your family fed, clothed and educated: that is a lack of opportunity; that is poverty.

Here is where you ask me “But Ashley, what can I do to help Africans rise out of poverty?” Well, I definitely don’t have a full answer for you, and I might come up with something completely different tomorrow but here is what I’m thinking right now.

Do you work at a company that has overseas operations?

If the answer is yes, I think the single greatest thing you can do is have your company hire locals. And you say “But we already DO hire locals.” Well then take it one step further and have the entire overseas operation run by locals: CEOs, managers, labourers, financial analysts, everything. Give the folks overseas more opportunities for entrepreneurship and varied employment.

If the answer is no, well, I haven’t figured that out yet. I’ll get back to you.

P.S. Feel free to comment!

Becoming a Villager

This time of year is known as No-Quie-Ah: the end of the rainy season, before the Harmatan winds blow in, and the busiest time for farmers who must harvest their crops and prepare for the dry season.

Last week I had the amazing opportunity to spend three days in a rural village in upper east Ghana with a family of subsistence farmers. I really wanted to know what life is like for someone who has no electricity or running water and must produce all the food they need to stay alive. Because my work with Engineers Without Borders is to help farmers make more money, I felt it was vital I understand the challenges they face.

So, it turns out village life is a lot of hard work and as hard as I tried, I really couldn’t cut it as a farmer. I was exhausted after five minutes of working the Shea butter when a girl half my age stepped in and worked tirelessly for two hours. I pounded millet but could do nothing but watch as the women expertly separated the grains from their shells with a couple of large bowls. I was okay at harvesting peanuts, but then, so were the toddlers who sat beside me. I tried to weed the rice fields but was sent back to the peanuts as I kept getting stuck in the mud. The men humoured me as I tried to weed the corn fields mostly because it is unusual to see a woman doing such a task. The clothes I washed with a bucket and bar soap did not get clean. And it took three days, but I finally managed to carry water on my head – they had to give me a bucket with a lid.

The perception is that white folk are too weak to live a village life. After my adventure, I have to agree with them. All their water came from a murky pond (lily pads and all) nearby. They drank it straight. I had to filter it through my t-shirt (I’m told it removes larvae and the eggs that cause worms) then add a bunch of chemicals until it tasted like mouldy pool water. For the most part I chose dehydration as my preferred alternative.

But my host family made the work fun and the pool water bearable. At night, I sat with the women and girls to tell stories, sing and dance. I learned that the scars people have on their face, stomach and back are markings unique to the community they are from, a tradition that was started during slavery so you could always find your family if you managed to escape. I was asked “Is it very different in your place?” and talked about washing machines, apartment buildings, and huge farms that feed millions of people who don’t know how to grow food. I also contributed a rendition of House of the Rising Sun (for mom) and Take It Easy (for dad) but I’m afraid I could not compete with the talent and excitement of their traditional songs and dances.

Despite the fact that I make a pretty lousy farmer, spending those three days in the village is one of the best things I’ve ever done. I know I will think back to my stay every day of my life and be inspired by the hard work, kindness, generosity and sprit of the people I met.

I hope I can alter the western perspective of what it means to be African. Those children we know from the World Vision commercials with the extended bellies and flies landing on their heads were instead running around laughing and playing pretty much all the time and they absolutely loved it when I started making funny faces with them. Yes, there is illness, hardship and a serious lack of opportunity for entrepreneurs but there is also immense happiness, family and community, ambition, love, and hope for what the future will bring.

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Introduction to my work in Ghana

We’ve all heard stories and seen pictures of Africa that involve starving children, AIDS, conflicts, corruption, desperation. These messages may be factual but they are far from describing the whole picture. For every tale of desperation and heartache, there are a hundred of hopes and successes that are leading Africa towards a bright and positive future. What motivates me to work in development is knowing that change is possible.

My role as overseas staff with Engineers Without Borders (EWB) will be supporting the Ministry of Food and Agriculture (MoFA) in the Northern Region of Ghana.

Most people in northern Ghana make their living as small-scale farmers. MoFA is the main government body which exists to serve the needs of these farmers. They manage to reach the small-scale farmers through their team of Agricultural Extension Agents (AEAs) who are scattered around the country.

My focus with MoFA is to develop sustainable systems that can motivate AEAs to innovate and encourage them to use their ingenuity to solve the many challenges of the small-scale farmers of northern Ghana. One such system already being examined by EWB overseas staff is the possibility of influencing the curriculum at agricultural schools where AEAs get their training.

I will be employing problem solving, insight and networking skills to further the extent and effectiveness of MoFA at spreading on-going and newly-developed solutions to the challenges AEAs face in reducing rural poverty.

I firmly believe that poverty is an absence of opportunity and we can always choose to make a difference. My goal is to leave a strategy and lasting mindset within the extension services of MoFA that inspires creative and progressive problem solvers to work their buns off for the rural Ghanaian farmer.