A New Friend

I just got back to the office from lunch, and as I was heading back, with my bananas in hand, I decided to stop into one of the local barber shops. I needed a haircut, and I know I’m going to be busy this weekend, so I figured I’d just take care of it now.

As I was getting my haircut today, I had the good fortune to meet a pretty inspiring dude. His name is Gift Kampule, and he is the owner of the shop I went to today. Gift started this shop back in 2001 after having worked as a supervisor in a printing shop in Blantyre. He finished school and then started working with this company until he left because of “some problems”.

When I asked Gift why he prefers to be self-employed rather than work for a company or government, he said this (paraphrased).

“People think that, just because you finish school, you have to work for the government, or some company, or an NGO. I left in 2001 from Blantyre Printing and started this shop in Chileka. In companies, you might work, but the company might not be able to pay your salary all the time. They might pay you 8000 MWK in 30 days. Owning my shop here, I can get much more than that, I always have cash.

You go into town and you see people begging all over the place. This is not good. Just because they can not find a job does not mean they can’t work. They could be farming, or finding other businesses to do.

So many people finish school and then just sit around taking what they can from others. They think that because they can’t find a job with a company or government that they do not have to find another way. You can't just sit around and wait for someone to give it all to you. You have to work for yourself to have success.”

Gift says he’s trying to get a hold of more capital to work on different businesses. He wants to come up with 10,000 MWK so he can buy a fridge and start selling drinks. When I asked him how much start up capital he had when he opened this shop, he told me it was only 2000 MWK. I find it hard to believe that you could start a shop with only 2000 MWK unless he somehow came into the location for free or already had some other inputs, but I doubt that he was rolling in cash.

I guess one factor to consider is that Gift must have had some opportunity to take a risk on starting a business. It’s your standard risk versus reward dilemma here: if you have a job already, you could choose to get away from the industrial/ government/ NGO sector, all of which are pretty shitty IF you are a person who wants to be entrepreneurial. But doing so is a big risk and there are no safety nets, so many choose to stick it out and have their creativity hit a brick wall.

What does this mean for entrepreneurialism in Malawi? Well, there certainly is an opportunity gap. Access to capital is hard: loans are very hard to come by and interest rates are ridiculous, I think 30% or so. But it's not just about capital. Gift thinks, and I agree with him, that many people don't see opportunities to succeed as within their reach or withing thier sphere of responsibility to find. From my first glance assessment, I'd say the biggest thing Gift has going for him is his attitude and his willingness to make things happen for himself.

I only met the guy for 20 minutes, but I was still able to see a spark of creativity and entrepreneurialism of which I strongly feel Malawi needs more. Further, when people have that spark, I strongly feel it goes to immense waste in NGOs and government, partly because there aren’t enough people with it (very few, no critical mass) and partly because those whole sectors lack strong enough leadership and professional development for entrepreneurial people to have positive impact on them. Chicken or the egg: if these sectors had decent leadership, good leaders could help them be better, but they don’t, so good leaders just get swallowed in a sea of ineffectiveness.

Here’s hoping Gift and his family can keep leading the charge.

If this story is interesting to you, check out what of a friend of mine, Ryan Coelho, is up to. He is starting an initiative in Ghana called the Proving Potential Investment Fund. I think it’s a cool idea and I'm interested to see where it goes. He recently send out an email about an aspiring leader he knows named Daniel. You can read Daniel’s story here...

Thanks for reading,

~MK

Leaving Chileka in Blaze of…. Self Actualization?

Hey all,

You already been introduced to my family. It will be not too long now, not more than a week or two actually, until I move out from that place and head somewhere else. Due to some craziness with EWB’s overseas strategy it’s not very clear where I’m going to end up, but in all likelihood I will be in Blantyre city for at least a while. I’ll then be heading home in November, then back to Malawi in January 2010.

A couple of weeks ago a bit of a bomb was dropped on me about my family. Ndaziona, whom you met earlier, was not going to school, and I didn’t know why. I talked with Evelynne about it, and they did not have money to pay her fees. It turns out at least a few things were going on:

• Evelynne had fallen asleep with a few thousand kwacha on her (around $25, quite a bit), and some boys had stolen it apparently.
• The dad of the house has been hiding money from the family. This explains a lot of the weird dynamics in the place and how conversations are vastly different between when it’s just the mom and kids versus when he’s around.
• The dad of the house, who is Muslim (but who still prays with the family all the time), apparently has 5 girlfriends dispersed between Chileka, Blantyre, and Lunzu, and that’s where his earnings go to.

Does any of this make complete sense to me? Not quite. But what I did know is that Ndaziona was not going to school. I also know that Evelynne values school for her children – she only finished standard 4 (like grade 4), and I think she wants her kids to have more opportunity than that. Ndazi is the younger girl so she bears the brunt of the chores (though my family does do a pretty good job of sharing them between the girls and the boys, and even me when I am allowed and am around). She has also struggled in school and even failed her tests last year, so her likelihood of getting financed to get through school is substantially lower than that of Chinsisi, who is a boy, or Anasi, who is currently studying in Lilongwe. When faced with this situation I couldn’t do anything other than pay her fees, so I did. This, by the way, had to be kept our little secret from the dad.

“Ndi chinsisi chathu, musandandaule” – I remember saying, which means “It’s our secret, don’t worry.” This was met with big laughs.

And when I leave Chileka in the next week or two, I am going to leave behind a sizable sum of money for the kids’ school. I don’t know if that just perpetuates the whole National Bank of Azungu mentality that is clearly alive and well with this family. But honestly, sometimes, I don’t really care. I’ll be finishing up a post about action and ignorance in a couple of days which will explore my feelings about this kind of thing in a bit more detail.

This is Anasi

This is Evelynne

For all the whining I’ve done about my host family (it is quite a challenging environment to live in), I do have a lot of love for them and care about them a great deal. I want to see Ndaziona succeed. That doesn’t mean a woman can’t succeed by just being a good farmer and family wife, but I think Ndazi wants more than that, and she deserves the chance.

Last night I was eating dinner, and the dad had already finished so I was alone. Ndaziona came into the dining room to get something.

“Ndazi, tabwera” I whispered, asking her to come close.

“Aphiri!” she answered with her usual joyful tone.

“Ndazi, umapita kusukulu tsopano eti?” – "you are going to school now right?"

“eee”

“Umapita tsiku lili lonse?” -- “every day?", I asked

“eee, Monday to Friday!”

“OK, ndipo, udzamaliza liti? Sukulu idzatseka liti?” – “when does school close?” I asked her.

“October, ndipo idzayambanso January”, she answered.

“OK. Ukudziwa kuti ndidzaputa posachedwa, ndipo pameme ndidzapita, ndidzasiya ndalama

zina, kuti upitalize kukapita kusukulu.” – “you know I’m leaving soon. And when I go, I am going

to leave some money for you to continue going to school.”

“OK”, she said, a bit more seriously once she realized I wasn't just screwing around, which is usually the context in which we communicate.

“Ndikufuna kuti upite kusukulu nthawi zonse. OK? Ukuyenera kumwaliza sukulu, chonde.” - “I want you to go to school all the time. You need to finish school, please.”

“OK, ndidzamwaliza Aphiri.” – “OK, I will finish.”

Here's Ndaziona with a bit of her sass

If there are any worries about this action being insulting to the family or something – haha, no. This family has always been quick to take my money so I’m not too worried about that. I am worried about something, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. At the end of this conversation Ndazi got a little cheeky and ask me to give the money directly to her. I laughed and told her I’d be giving it to her mom.

I am also thinking that I’ll talk to Odala about leaving him something so that Desire and Moses, his children, can be sure to go to school. I know that’s one of his worries. If he can use some seed money to start up his business finally, or maybe use in for the South Lunzu Post Test Club, his NGO, or even his save it directly for school fees, I think it’s a worthwhile investment. Maybe that’s the conclusion all azungus eventually reach which is why there’s sometimes this baseline expectation that azungus will give money to Malawians just because. I have expressed genuine frustration with this mentality and my feelings about how it is crippling for development. But I think there’s a difference between a random person asking you to buy them things and assuming you will, and helping someone with whom you have a real friendship.

Here's Odala

I'm teaching him to use the computer

Maybe I’m just rationalizing because my ego can’t stand to take a hit like not offering to help people I know I can help, or maybe I’m actually right. Not sure, don’t care (actually I do care). But I feel like if I choose not to help when I can in a situation in which I would if it were with one of my non-Malawian friends, choosing not to would be ever more paternalistic and would devalue the friendship. You might even call it racist.

Question:

§ I’ve talked at length about how aid undermines Malawians’ abilities and drive to solve their own country’s problems. It creates an underlying accountability dynamic of the aid system being responsible for Malawi’s success, so that development actors become accountable to donors rather than to the people of the country. I see a difference between this and helping individuals whom you really know. Do you see that difference, too, or am I mistaken?

Thanks for reading!

Critters

“Atate mu dzina la Jesu Kritsu ndikuphempera kuti mundipatse mphamvu…”

That is the sound of Chinsisi’s before bed prayer. If you don’t recall, Chinsisi is the 14 year old boy with whom I live.

Chinsisi (AKA Sisi)

Sisi loves to pray – he is usually the one who has taken off with the Bible when Aphiri the preacher is trying to figure out where it is. Most nights before bed he prays for a good 20 minutes, yelling style. He does this even on nights when the whole family has done a good hour and a half of joint praying, complete with the yelling, screaming, and occasionally crying that I’m used to hearing.

Here's a glimpse of my night life:

On one particular night, a few nights ago, Chinsisi went to bed extra late for whatever reason, so it was about 11:30 PM when he got started. I had to get up early the next morning, so I was relieved when he was finally done. With the prayer done and my body good and tired, I thought it was time for a good night’s sleep. I was wrong.

Some weeks ago several large bags of maize were moved into my room. They had been being stored in another small house (the house that was originally supposed to be mine but still has no floor), but for some reason the family wanted to move them, so I helped Chinsisi move them into my room. Since then, my room has been the village’s hottest new destination for nocturnal rodents to fill up on as much maize as their bodies can hold.

Now, it’s not the rustling of the many mice who have taken a liking to the bags of maize in my room that bugs me. It’s not the mouse shit that I routinely find all over my bamboo floor mat that bugs me. It’s not even the occasional mouse screaming match (I think they are even fighting or fornicating, or both, or one then the other) that bugs me. Rather, it’s the fact that they seem to be organizing some kind of revolution, and they have allies.

On the night in question, after Chinsisi had finished his prayer, it was time to go to sleep. As soon as I had blown out my candles and the loud prayer had subsided, it was time for the mice to come out from wherever the hell they hide and begin their evening ritual. It started with the signature rustling. The mice climb up the bags of maize and seem to do some kind of dance. They don’t just sit still and munch on maize kernels, no, they move around and choose different pieces of maize from different parts of each bag to maximize the amount of noise they make. Sometimes when they do this I throw coins at the bags in an effort to make them shut up, but it doesn’t work.

Occasionally I even try to quietly reach for my flashlight and turn it on to try to spot them, but I never do. They always hear me flailing around in the dark trying to locate my flashlight and then go into hiding. When I turn it off, they are at it again after around 10 seconds.

On this night, I gave up with the rustling and munching and just let them go at it. Then, as I was trying to get to sleep, I heard a very light thump. Take a dime and drop in on pillow from a height of 10 cm and you’ll hear the sound I mean. Normally a sound of little consequence, but when you know you are surrounded by critters, it's a bit alarming. My eyes widened as soon as I heard the sound. Was it a mouse who’d jumped on my bed and was going to crawl all over me as I was trying to sleep? I lay there stunned for a few seconds, but was sobered by a light touch of something at my side. Something moving, brushing past me as I lay in my bed. Trying to keep still and calm, I slowly reached for my flashlight and turned it on. I removed my blanket quickly. Nothing. Damn it, where did he go? Is the little fucker hiding under my pillow or between my legs or what? I slowly sat up, eying the halo of my flashlight on the mattress like a hawk. I turned my body, and then I saw him.


A mouse??


No. It was a massive friggin’ cockroach who’d squeezed himself under my lower back. This was not the first time I had been infiltrated by insects in the bed. During the rainy season I’d routinely find bits of chewed up wood on my mattress with dozens of tiny termites in them that had been eating the support beams above. And once, back in April, I rolled over in bed to hear a crunching sound and felt something on my side. I removed whatever it was with my fingers, sort of gooey but not quite liquid. I remember thinking at the time, “I don’t recall having eaten any M&Ms since being in Malawi. But this sort of feels like a melted M&M. Weird…” I then sniffed my fingers in the dark, half expecting to smell choclately goodness. But it wasn’t choclately goodness at all. Rather, it smell somehow acrid and biting; it offended my nose. It occurred to me that it could be a cockroach, and I madly scrambled to find my flashlight to hopefully discover that it wasn’t. But it was! I had squished him to a pulp, which was now on my fingers and smeared across my torso. Pieces of his exoskeleton were still on me. That was unpleasant.

But this time I was having none of that – this thing was going to leave my personal bubble, and fast. I freaked out a bit and used my flashlight to flick him off the bed. It didn’t quite work the first couple of times, so I gave him a stronger flick, launching the roach towards the wall, the flashlight slipping out of my hands and flying after him. At least it was still on so I could find it easily. Time to go to sleep, right?

SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH

The mice in Malawi seem to be huge, and can make a disproportionate amount of noise. And as if I was living in some kind of “Azungu in Malawi” sitcom, the mice decided at this point to have their turn. One of them was outside my door, and as my door is a fine example of Malawian infrastructure, it is unduly snug with the floor, meaning that the mouse couldn’t get it with the door closed or just didn't fee like squeezing. But that didn’t stop him from scratching at the door. He was scratching incessantly trying to get in. I threw something at the door hoping to scare him off.

Ineffective. After several minutes of this, I decided he wasn’t going to give up, and I surrendered. I’d had enough. I went over and opened the door, actually granting access to this mouse so he could join his friends in eating the family’s maize. I had to make this concession because they had the upper hand. It was nearly 1 AM by this point, and they had worn me down. Their revolution appears to be making headway due to a strategic alliance with the cockroach faction.

Here is a video log of number of the different factions I’ve come across in Malawi. Note – between 2:46 and 2:47 of the video there’s a really cool recon frame of a locust in flight. I hope you like my nerdy and lame play-by-play commentary. Enjoy!

The current "intel":

Thanks for reading,

~MK