Why I Can’t Give Abozu My Camera
13 November 2008
This is my first post from the field, and, unfortunately, I’m not writing to share an inspiring microfinance success story or even a heartwarming cross-cultural anecdote, as I was hoping I would be. I am writing to tell about a conversation that threw an uncomfortably bright spotlight directly on the basis of my being here in Africa, and the basis of Kiva’s mission itself.
I am stationed in Togo, a tiny West African country that ranks the 13th poorest in the world, with a GDP per capita in 2007 of $167. I am living with a Togolese family, and there is a 26-year old guy named Abozu who works in the house, cleaning, bringing me my breakfast, and doing lots of other things. He works very hard and we’ve gotten to know each other over the week that I’ve been here.
We were sitting on a bench outside the house this afternoon, and I had my camera with me. Here’s a picture of the two of us:
So, after showing him how to use the camera, he asked me if I was going to buy him one when I got back to the United States. I said no, it’s too expensive. What followed was a long discussion about the difference between charity and microfinance, and why I am not willing to give him things that could help his life even though I say I want to help people in poor countries. He said, “Isn’t Togo a poor country?”
I said yes, then tried to explain why I don’t think charity is the real solution to poverty. I said, “First of all, if I give someone money, he will spend it, and nothing in his life will really change.” (Keep in mind, this entire conversation is in French, which I am nowhere near fluent in.)
He replied, “But if you give me this camera, I can take pictures of people and sell them their pictures, and make money.”
He had a point – this was, after all, one of the first microfinance projects – Muhammed Yunus gave some Bangladeshi villagers a cell phone, and they charged their neighbors money to use it. So I said, “Yes, that would work. But you would have to repay me for the camera once you earned enough money.”
He asked me how much the camera cost, and I told him $200. He said, “What if I paid you $100?”
Aggh. At this point I was a bit frustrated by the bluntness of his questions, but we were getting to the core of the debate that has been raging in my heart and mind for years. I said, “No, $100 wouldn’t be enough, because it has to be based on capitalism, not charity.” I tried other arguments, too – that I want to help create change on a grander scale, not just for him; that I want poor people to be independent, not reliant on people who have more money; that I could give away all my money and the world wouldn’t really be much different; that if I give him my computer, I’ll have nothing to give to the Senegalese people during my next Kiva Fellowship; but, mostly, that capitalism is the world, and the only foundation on which one can erect any type of change that won’t blow away in the wind. (All in French…not easy.)
I suppose it’s not surprising that he persisted. He pointed out that the Togolese family I’m living with has given me lots of things – housing, food, a cell phone, transportation. It’s true. I tried to respond that they gave me those things because I’m here trying to help their country. But it made me think – even though I’m not giving money to people directly, I’ve spent a ton of money to come here, and I’ve also given up a lot in my life: my very well-paying job in New York, my apartment, my comfort, my family and friends. All of that is charity…how is it different from me giving Abozu my camera?
To be honest, I’m not totally sure. I feel deep down that it is different – I’m trying to plant the seeds of something that I hope will grow to be bigger than anything I could accomplish by giving away my money. It all comes back to our favorite word, sustainability. But try explaining that to a 26-year old Togolese man who makes $700 a year and just wants to be able to provide for the family that he doesn’t have yet – and in French.
So, he kept pressing, asking what I was going to give him as a souvenir when I left – a motorbike? A computer? A bicycle? “Why can’t you give me a loan?” he asked.
“You don’t have a business,” I said.
“What if I put a little table out and start selling things, like them?” he asked, pointing at two women across the street.
“I’m not a microfinance organization,” I tried to explain. “I don’t have everything that’s necessary to give a loan – but that’s why I’m working with an organization that does.”
I started to get kind of upset, but he didn’t notice. If only he understood that the question he kept asking me, face-to-face, over and over, was a question that has made me cry many times, that keeps me up at night, and that I am hoping to God that microfinance can at least attempt to answer:
“How can you help me?”
***
Post-note: I left the conversation kind of abruptly, because I thought I might start to cry. While I was writing this in my room, Abozu came and found me and apologized, said that it was just curiosity that made him ask all those questions. Then I really did start crying, and I asked him if he understood the difference between charity and microfinance. He said that he understands now…but, then again, guys will say anything to make a girl stop crying.
Then he promised to make me an omelet for breakfast tomorrow.
Is that charity?
I guess, according to my philosophy, I owe him an omelet. Plus interest.
13 November 2008 at 4:35 pm
Thanks Abby, we cry with you. I applaud him for being persistent. He sounds like a hard worker who is definitely looking for a way to survive in his difficult world. And good for you for trying to explain why charity not helpful in the long term. The main reason I am so addicted to Kiva is because, even here at home, we give and give but nothing ever seems to change. Other than conditioning people to sit and wait for the next gift. And then where do they turn when it doesn’t arrive? Bless you and be well within yourself. jan
13 November 2008 at 7:39 pm
Hey. This is an amazing piece of writing that takes me back to so many conversations I’ve had throughout my life. I’ve been trying to pursue something in between capitalism and charity as a way to reconcile the pain associated with just settling on either side. From afar, it’s just too easy to take an ideological stance on issues around poverty. Up close, all those stances seem to break down and you are left feeling pretty lost for words sometimes. Hope you are doing well otherwise Abby and thanks for what you are doing.
14 November 2008 at 2:18 am
I really liked your candid account. Best of luck with your work.
14 November 2008 at 5:12 am
I think it’s amazing writing too. I feel like honestly I should be doing charity and microfinance both. I do a little of each but really not nearly enough. Do I give of my substance? No, I really don’t. Do the poor have that claim on me? Yes, I feel they do. They’re my brothers and sisters, and I have much more than I need. They have so little. But the “what are you going to give me” attitude doesn’t feel right either, does it? It’s complicated. I feel ya.
14 November 2008 at 8:30 am
great post Abby. in the long run, the results of your efforts there will be much more valuable than any amount of dollars… keep up the good work.
14 November 2008 at 8:33 am
Thanks for sharing this with all of us Abby. I think that as Fellows (and as any individual interested in microfinance) we struggle with this issue often. A complicated, difficult conversation, indeed. In any language. I’m glad you arrived safely, and I hope that you are settling in!
14 November 2008 at 6:43 pm
you really said it well…
this is the point that has always struck, confounded, and confused me everywhere I have worked…and no, I don’t have an answer either…
14 November 2008 at 8:17 pm
Abby, Thanks so much for sharing your experience. Your courage and strength is VERY inspiring to someone like me that struggles for find her own to do more to help and make a difference. Best of luck with the remainder of your post.
15 November 2008 at 12:53 am
Abby,
It was refreshing to read this frank outpouring of the conflicting feelings you were dealing with in the situation you found yourself in. Obviously, there is no one or simple answer to the questions you (and I’m sure many others) raise about the charity versus ‘helping’ conundrum. It’s difficult to address intellectually and near impossible to deal with when face to face with it! In a simplistic analogy, I find myself thinking the same thing when stopped at a traffic light in India and having the dilemma of whether to offer some spare change to the beggars who are invariably present. I feel very uncomfortable simply forking over money, so I try and remember to keep some candy or crackers (sweets and biscuits in Indian lingo) and offer those. Often this is met with contempt and mockery by the beggars themselves, which is fine by me and not unexpected, but when a child beggar gratefully accepts the edible items and hungrily devours it, it feels like it was a worthwhile contribution in some small way.
And about your Togolese caretaker, it seems like he has the right attitude generally, in that he did think about the fact that if you gave him your camera, he could make money off it -and- repay you. I think that would be an excellent way to help him out without it being charity per se. Basically, you become a sort of micro-finance agent yourself even though you don’t have the infrastructure to be one all by yourself. The only thing you would need is trust that he would abide by his word and indeed use the camera as intended (make money by selling pictures), and pay back the original cost of the camera, I assume depreciated to account for it being a used camera.
In any case, as you said, you have taken actual steps and put yourself out there and helping in person, so no matter what, whatever you are doing is very commendable. Keep it up!
Take care,
- Aamir
16 November 2008 at 3:43 am
Dear Abby,
I am so touched by the eloquence with which you convey your eternal and profoundly sincere struggle to understand what true compassion is. I am greatful for your sharing.
Be well,
Tanya
16 November 2008 at 10:44 am
I have had this post up on my computer screen for over a day now trying to think of something inspirational to write. At a loss, I just want to say that this was an excellent expression of the issues of which people from the developed country should be aware. En francais – courage!
16 November 2008 at 12:15 pm
wow ~ I cant even tell you guys how much it means to get so much sincere support in response to this post. i was feeling pretty crappy after the whole incident (i couldnt really eat the whole next day…though that might have had more to do with an encounter with some fermented cornmeal (they make it fermented on purpose…dont ask me why)). but after receiving all these wonderful responses, i have realized that i truly do have a forum where i can express these frustrations and, most importantly, that im not alone in struggling through these difficult issues. even though i dont know most of the people who wrote comments, the fact that we can connect so deeply over this common ongoing struggle is inspiring. thank you all so much for your encouragement.
19 November 2008 at 5:53 am
When abroad, I try to keep in mind that, in most parts of the world (outside of North America), the exchange of small gifts or token favors follows a basic pattern, a set of expectations. So does the way of advancing a conversation or a possible friendship. It isn’t ritual bribery or fake politeness; it’s tradition. The communication and relationship-building is smooth, and all goes well, as long as both parties understand what comes next, if only subconsciously.
Though when two vastly different cultures come together in conversation or in collaboration, there is bound to be confusion and disappointment, to say nothing of simple misunderstandings from just the language gap. Both parties act according to their own norms, but feelings can be hurt anyway. Neither party should be blamed.
An old observation comes to mind… Americans will invite people they barely know into their homes or apartments for a visit with hardly a second thought. It is a mild gesture of generosity and openness and fortunately pretty common. Not so in some cultures, in which the home is only for the family; you instead are invited to a cafe or restaurant, where guests are entertained. So, Americans who are invited into a home in a far away land may fail to appreciate fully what has just happened. Some sort of reciprocity is expected — not equivalent in magnitude (that could be insulting), but something having meaning to the host as well as yourself, such as a packet of cookies or a chicken (still flapping its wings of course), or such as a few gestures, like teaching a game to the the kids (who gather around shouting Yovo! if you are in Togo) or learning a few phrases in their maternal language. In turn, they will serve you some of those cookies along with a special beverage of their own. Or they will make a chicken dinner at which neighbors, who are due a return favor, are invited and who bring *you* a little something as a gesture….
It’s the back-and-forth over time, the recurring exchanges, that is the main thing between people who are connected and interconnected. Though it may seem so, materialism is not at all the focus (hardest of all for many Americans to understand because of our habit of ownership). Of course recurring exchanges can spiral out of control in long relationships, yet this exchange aspect of many cultures is the norm.
So yes, in some situations, it may be quite right to give the camera away — but in the context of two people in which there are periodic exchanges. But not if you really need the camera. On the one had, you won’t be expected to exchange anything requested in all situations, but on the other hand, you may be asked bluntly for something only as a catalyst, a starting point, especially if a lack of awareness in tradition is perceived. Notice how the first ‘offer’ or suggestion is soon forgotten.
Anyway, all this has very little to do with charity, nor “pay it forward”, nor “teach a man to fish…” Rather, I see it as another social norm for connecting to people. Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s easy for all parties involved! I motivate myself by thinking: Doing as the Romans do just for awhile can lead to real learning by doing.
19 November 2008 at 8:33 am
Hi, Abby. I’m so touched by your post. I Sypmathize with your words as I have similar experience as well. Thanks for sharing your experience. I’m looking forward to reading your next post.
3 December 2008 at 9:25 am
[...] freezer). But it was a wild animal, and it was gross. I ran and got Abozu (see my previous post – Why I Can’t Give Abozu My Camera) to ask him what it was. “Un renard.” He said. I ran to my French-English dictionary (I was [...]
26 December 2008 at 12:14 pm
Abby – I love this post…thanks for relaying this experience to the rest of us — and I love the way you end the article. Got me thinking even more…
6 January 2009 at 8:32 am
Abby,
I finally had some time to sit down and read some of your blog. Amazing! You amaze me; what can I say?
I hope all continues to be well with you. I will continue to read your blog postings, but I wanted to respond to one of your rhetorical questions in this blog entry.
Your decision to leave your life in New York and your good job with colleagues who adore you is not an act of charity. It is an act of self-sacrifice and investment in the future of economically disadvantaged people. You have chosen to act as a conduit to encourage change and positive growth. The people you seek to help are not benefiting from your sacrifice, which, as you point out, would not leave them in a better place. Rather, because you are using your life in this way, they will benefit ten-fold. You are investing in them.
So rest easy and know that you are doing something truly awesome (and I mean that in the most Biblical sense, not the common way we use the word now)!
Take care of yourself!
Warmest regards to you,
Maren
20 January 2009 at 8:22 am
re ‘camera’
Abozu is a bit like a 4-year old, in the sense that he has absolutely nothing to lose by continuing to ask – & you (as well as every other westerner) are extremely wealthy, comparatively speaking. remember that even very poor people in the US have a tv, a refrigerator, a car, free schooling for the their kids, & some form of medical care. a tip when you leave, & sometimes a small token during the time you are with the family are appropriate. you may be able to help in Togo, but most of the things you do will fail. if it were easy, it would already be done – but the point is that you have to try. i’ve been to Tanzania twice, & i plan to go back to Africa.
don’t give up, & don’t feel guilty. just recognize your responibility & do your best to change things.
-jeanne
13 March 2009 at 4:26 am
[...] I can’t give Abozu my camera. But sometimes you just want to buy a little girl a soda. So I handed Maimouna the Sprite and told [...]