Some things in life don’t seem to change, like this part of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Known as the African Riviera, it is beautiful, abundant in resources, productive and full of good people. The lake calms after the steady breeze, and this is surely a paradise. A fisherman paddles by singing his rhythmic tune. My surroundings are peaceful. If only the view matched the interior of my mind and the vast volcanic landscape which sweeps westward.
I’m sitting on a lakefront balcony reflecting on my recent return to the eastern DRC. Seven years ago I was a younger aid worker, sure that if humanitarians did their job properly, then better if not good programming would be possible. Lives would improve, less people would die and we could leave the eastern Kivus in a more humane and hopeful state than the horror they had known since the Rwandan genocide spilled over and gave rise to the First Congo War. That was the humanitarian imperative and we believed at least in doing no harm. I wonder what I will find on this aid mission.
In 2013 I wrote in this blog about my initial impressions of the DRC in a piece called ‘NGO Graveyard’. Seven years on and so little has changed in terms of the fundamentals. Armed groups still run wild in the rural areas, donors demand layer after layer of compliance measures which rarely bring the increased accountability intended and good intentions still abound in the rhetoric of NGO publicity while the cynicism or wilful ignorance of their expat employees deepens. Local mechanisms for gaining wealth from international NGOs have become more and more sophisticated in terms of kickbacks and fraud, not to mention the dependency that has been built up over nearly three decades of employment and basic provision of WASH (water, sanitation & hygiene), shelter, infrastructure, healthcare, nutrition and food (read: proxy state structures). For a snapshot of this industry in DRC read this link: https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/investigation/2020/06/12/Congo-aid-corruption-abuse-DFID-DRC-UN-NGOs
The recent remark by the senior UN official responsible for humanitarian aid coordination in Congo, Mr Inganji, is risible. He is quoted as saying, in response to a major review of fraud and corruption risks which highlights the loss of over half a million dollars of aid money intended for vulnerable, conflict-affected people: “Everyone will be shocked.” This is either totally disingenuous or he is deluded. It is simply not possible to spend even a short time in a context like DR Congo and not see the failure of the system to achieve it’s stated goals, the sexual abuse and exploitation of beneficiaries and employees, mostly women and girls, and the determination and success of large swathes of the state, businesses and communities in defrauding those who have come ostensibly to assist the poor and marginalised Congolese masses who continue to suffer in this troubled place.
So, I no longer believe in the sector’s dominant narratives. I wonder how I will engage honestly with the people whom I now live amongst. I have changed so much since the days in South Kivu when I believed in a fantasy-fuelled identity as an aid worker. That person died long ago. Now it is a job and one that does not define me. I love the platform it provides to observe interesting, cross-cultural realities, and ways to relate to parts of humanity who have retained dignity, a desire for a better life and even joy in the face of some of the worst atrocities and hardships witnessed by humanity in the past 30 years. The question on arrival is not whether the aid industry is broken, but how badly. Can we still help those in genuine need in spite of the messy and complex reality? Or, is reality here something totally different?
On a personal note, I wonder what will become of me as I swim in these murky waters infested by Aid’s many-tentacled Leviathan with it’s three heads - corruption, violence and exploitation. Fed by its colonial overlords, disempowerment and self-interest prevail and I know that I am powerless. As Mother Teresa said so well, “we can do no great things, only small things with great love.”
C’est la vie humanitaire.
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