Posts filed under 'KF4 (Kiva Fellows 4th Class)'
Wheelchair donated to a Kiva Mozambican client by KivaFriends!!!
A week ago, Regina Jose, Hluvuku’s client in Mozambique, received a brand new wheelchair to replace her broken one!!! KivaFriends donated it, and with the help of many people it was bought, transported from South Africa to Mozambique and delivered to her!!
Regina was so happy with her new wheelchair that she even cried! Now she will be able to resume her activities and will go to church on Sundays, something she described as her favorite activity. As I wrote in my last blog, it took just over one month since my first journal about Regina to get all this done. One of Regina’s lenders who is also part of KivaFriends brought this into KivaFriends attention and in a teamwork event it was successfully concluded!
As I mentioned in my last blog, I’m quite impressed with this network of good-hearted people that don’t know each other in person but work together for the same cause – to help those in need.
The picture shows Regina shaking Bernardo Tembe’s hand (Hluvuku CEO) and with Ernesto Rungo, Regina’s loan officer from Hluvuku.
I’m already back from my fellowship in Mozambique and as some other fellow fellows, I will write about my microfinance experience in my next blog.
Ate mais.
Posted on behalf of Beatriz Mauro
5 comments 5 August 2008
TIA
TIA
A Tanzanian friend, who stays at the same guest house as me, came up with an expression that can be used to make any frustrating, confusing, or illogical moment in Africa, funny. TIA (this is Africa!). I can’t even remember the origin of this phrase (bad referencing I know), other than that my friend said it on the way home from a club one night, and made me believe that it was a commonly used expression in Dar es Salaam (N.B. sadly my gullibility cannot be attributed to drunkenness, it’s a special characteristic of mine, despite my supreme intelligence). This gullibility led to me using ‘TIA’ at will, until I realised that no one knew what it meant! I confronted my friend, who broke down and admitted that he had made it up himself and just wanted to embarrass me (although further research tells me he may have lifted it from the movie Blood Diamond). The minor embarrassment it caused has been well worth it though, because TIA has saved my sanity a number of times since.
Example #1: Dana Lunberry, my fellow Fellow in Dar, accompanied me on a trip to train an MFI’s staff on how to use the kiva system. The staff were professional, punctual, receptive, hospitable, kind (they gave us gifts), and generally wonderful (so much so that we finished the training a couple of days early). Until our second-last day. Usually we were picked up from our guest house at around 8am. On this particular day, we didn’t hear from our hosts until 11am (this wasn’t so strange because everyone realised there wasn’t really much to do, and we had been on an epic adventure the day before – involving a five hour drive to Lake Malawi with a fish flying along next to us in a plastic bag tied to the car to prevent it spoiling. The flying fish was subsequently presented to the manager and cook at the beach resort, who agreed to cook it for us. BYO fish was a new concept for us, but our hosts couldn’t understand our amazement and hysterical laughter).
Back to us waiting at the guest house. Our host rang and asked us if we were ready, because they were on their way to pick us up. “Of course”, I replied, cheekily using an expression often used out of context here in TZ, usually in cases where the implied obviousness of the situation does not exist, and where a simply yes would suffice (in this case, at 11am, I feel my polite “of course” was justified). So Dana and I waited, and waited, and WAITED! Until 4pm, when we decided a) to go for a walk, and b) to stop speculating as to why someone would say they were on the way to pick you up and then not show up. ALL DAY! As we observed later, neither of us ever suspected that a fatal accident or other form of emergency had occurred. Maybe we’ve been here too long. Anyway, the next morning one of the staff members showed up unannounced while I was still in the bathroom. Dana answered the door, and after the usual polite greetings asked, “So, what happened yesterday?”
“What yesterday?” our host replied.
“HOW YOU NEVER CAME TO PICK US UP YESTERDAY!” (Ok, Dana did not shout, she never does, I just couldn’t resist writing it because it would have been really funny if she had).
Our unnameable host: “Oh, we decided you were tired and needed to rest”.
???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
When Dana relayed the conversation to me later, I asked her what she said. “Nothing”, she replied, and anticipating my hot-tempered reaction to her non-response, added “What can you say to that?”
“TIA!” we chorused in unison.
Disclaimer: I love Africa, and Tanzania, and SELFINA, but I have gone beyond the ‘culturally sensitive’ stage of accepting everything I come across (although TIA is a form of acceptance). It’s now gloves off when it comes to cultural observations and criticisms, and in my experience most Tanzanians find it funny and refreshing (maybe because I’m just as critical of my own culture!)
N.B.: More examples to follow – I can guarantee that ahead of time!
2 comments 23 June 2008
Meet CAURIE Microfinance in Senegal!
By Mary Moseley
Senegal Fellow
CAURIE MF, Caisse Autonome pour le Renforcement des initiatives Economiques par la Microfinance, is a mid-size microfinance institution that serves over 15,000 clients in Senegal and as of March 31st 2008, has a loan portfolio just over $4mUSD. They are present in several regions of the country: Diourbel, Kolda, Louga, Thiès, and Ziguinchor. Their mission is to offer best practice micro-finance services to poor, female-owned micro-enterprises in primarily rural areas while investing in their own eventual financial autonomy.
CAURIE is the organizational offspring of the Catholic Relief Services (CRS) and its primary regional partner, Caritas Internationalis. After a decade of Microcredit activities in Senegal, CRS realized that as an NGO, it would not be able to operate effectively within the realms of Credit and Savings, nor would it meet the needs of the country’s growing Microfinance market. Caritas-Thiès and CRS-Senegal then joined forces to launch a Microfinance project utilizing their program experience and after 5 successful years, decided to officially establish CAURIE Microfinance in September 2005.
A monthly meeting at one of the Village banks established by Caurie.
As a Kiva Fellow in Senegal, I’ve therefore gotten a chance to learn a lot about CAURIE and would like to introduce them to you! Read on to learn a little more about this amazing organization.
I’ve been working and living at the CAURIE Headquarters since March 2008. The director, Mamadou Lamine Gueye, has all the makings of an amazing leader: hardworking, responsive, decisive, and a nice guy to boot. Mr. Gueye has Fatoumata Binta Daniff, an ex-loan officer and accountant, spearheading the Kiva loan processing from headquarters. Mrs. Daniff is incredibly hardworking and creates each loan profile with precision and care. I think that Kiva has partnered with CAURIE at a really interesting time. CAURIE is an emerging microfinance company – it is growing rapidly. The inclusion of Kiva into its loan funding process is sure to foster their planned growth as an organization.
It’s important to note that amidst massive growth and expansion, CAURIE’s Village Bank lending methodology remains faithful to the core concepts of microfinance and, in my opinion, succeeds because of it. CAURIE lends to groups of women who form village-banking groups. Once the women organize themselves, CAURIE provides microfinance training (savings and loan methodology), improving a woman’s chance of success from day one. CAURIE has over 275 Village Banks (VBs) in Senegal with between 35 and 60 women in each. VB’s can get started in a variety of ways. CAURIE will sometimes send representatives out to villages to offer their services. Other times, groups of women approach CAURIE asking to set up a bank in their village. To begin, several informational meetings are held between CAURIE staff, the village leaders and the future borrowers. Within each Village Bank, the women split up into Solidarity Groups of between 3 and 10 women. In lieu of putting up collateral for loans, they agree to be held responsible for their fellow solidarity group members’ loans. Solidarity Groups are one of the reasons CAURIE’s loan default rate is 0% to date.
Caurie staff, Mary & clients during a monthly meeting at one of the Village banks
CAURIE’s loans are usually for a duration of 6 months and repaid by one single bulk payment at the end of the cycle. Although payments are made at the end of each loan term, the Village Banks meet monthly. During the meeting, each woman is called up to present her deposit into her savings account. Loan payments are also made in front of the group. At each monthly meeting, the members can opt to take out small loans from their Village Bank’s savings account. These monthly loans are very small and not related to the larger loans that CAURIE and Kiva lenders fund. But, small amounts like $20 US can be helpful in these women’s lives, and at each monthly meeting many of them choose to borrow a small sum to be repaid in full the following month.
Caurie staff visiting a client of a Village bank.
All women are welcome into the program and allowed a first loan of up to approximately $60 USD for a 6-month loan term. After the first loan, each borrower’s credit limit is evaluated and re-calculated based on her repayment history, their savings account balances and their experience with loans. With each 6-month cycle, the women have an opportunity to build their credit and take a larger loan or remain at whichever borrowing level is comfortable for them. I’ve met with many of CAURIE’s borrowers and loan officers. I’ve attended several monthly meetings and met with the elected management committee at each bank. The management committees are elected by the VB and are VB members themselves. All of these have been incredibly positive experiences, without exception. I believe in CAURIE’s methodology and I highly respect the hard work of the staff and the dedication of their borrowers.
Both CAURIE and the Microfinance sector in general in Senegal are growing rapidly. To date, there are over 600 microfinance institutions in the country. The beauty of Microfinance in Senegal is that it reaches out to typically under-served rural areas as opposed to traditional banking, which is primarily focused in urban areas. CAURIE is growing its loan portfolio, opening more Village Banks, and will be expanding its services to include micro-insurance this summer!
*This blog was posted on behalf of Mary Moseley*
3 comments 18 June 2008
Was Kiva ever meant to be a Microfinance Fund?
I wonder if Jessica and Matt Flannery, Kiva co-founders, meant to create a Microfinance Fund to help local entrepreneurs in developing countries have money to grow or help their business. When I decided to join Kiva as a Kiva fellow I told my friends I was going to work for a Microfinance Fund. Last week I understood I was completely wrong. Kiva is a global community, not a microfinance fund based on small individual lending.
The other Friday, June 6th 08, I posted a journal about a client I visited the previous day. Nothing special, that’s one of my main tasks here. However, the client, a disable woman, mentioned that her wheelchair was broken and that she hasn’t been to Church in almost 2 months, and therefore was considering using a next loan to buy a wheelchair. I wrote that. The following morning I read a comment on the journal written by a Kiva Friend saying that KivaFriends would be willing to donate a new wheelchair to Regina Jose (picture below). The next day Jill, the KivaFriend, created a new thread at KivaFriends and on Monday, June 9th, when I opened Kivafriends.org for the first time in my life I saw that more than 300 people had seen Jill’s message and there were around 30 replies. People around the world were committed to give Regina Jose a new wheelchair, and then, for the first time, I realized I was working for a community, not for a Microfinance Fund. Now this message board has been seen for more than 900 people!!
For those not familiar with KivaFriends, it is a parallel non-profit organization that was created by very committed Kiva lenders, with the intent of helping further Kiva clients and Kiva itself. I am quite impressed by the power of Internet and global instant communication. Within 10 days the wheelchair was chosen and will be acquired next week, with delivery scheduled for the following week, hopefully in time for me to deliver the chair (representing KivaFriends) and take a few pictures on the occasion.
I am thrilled to see so many good people in the world wanting to help a client in a very poor neighborhood in the outskirt of Mozambican’s capital city Maputo. So many people have given advises and tried to help! A few even joined KivaFriends for the first time to help with donation!
If Jessica and Matt wanted a microfinance fund, they have it. Kiva is a fast growing fund on its way to be one of the largest microfinance funds in the world. Congratulations for that. But I believe they need a long applause for the community of good people they put together for the cause – helping alleviate poverty and promote economic development.
I’ll keep you posted on Regina’s wheelchair story!
Khanimanbo.
Add comment 15 June 2008
Field Experience
I’ve been working in Mozambique with Hluvuku-Adsema for the past 3 months now and I’m not even close to adapted. I must have visited more than 100 clients so far, and sometimes it is still quite hard to face reality. As a professional in the field I’m supposed to leave my emotions aside, right? Why is it so hard? Am I a bad “field employee” because I feel or am I just hurting myself?
I remember when my brother started to operate while in Medical University. My aunt, a doctor herself, told him the hardest part of being a doctor was to put the feelings aside and not suffer for all the patients’ lives my brother would loose in his career. I remember the first time my brother lost a patient. He went to my parents’ house devastated, and wouldn’t even talk. Four or five years have passed since my brother became a surgeon. I’ve listened to him talking about a few patients he has lost, but never emotional. Does this mean he doesn’t feel anymore, that he adapted? Or that he is just pretending he doesn’t feel anything?
Last Thursday I’ve visited 16 clients (Kiva and non-Kiva clients) and when I arrived home at night I was completed exhausted; emotionally devastated. I had seen so much poverty, so many problems, so many kids in horrible situations, diseases, hunger, lack of a proper home to live. A strong storm hit the region the previous night, and many people that had plastic roofing had just lost their home with everything inside. Many clients lost their stand and their place to sell their products, but they weren’t as scared as I was. They were sad, but behaving as “we lost it all one more time”, which for me was even more hard to take it.
I come from a developing country. I have already volunteered in slums in Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. I’ve seen poverty and many children begging in the streets. Why am I still not used to it? Why do I still feel so much? I would like to work with economic development as a profession. Does that mean I will never be good enough for it? I will never adapt? Or am I just in my first “field year”, just like a first med school year?
Yesterday I walked through the capital city Maputo the whole day, just thinking and trying to understand the reality I am facing. With my sad spirit came my furiousness. If I already wanted to help the poorest reach the ladder of development, now I will.
Jeffrey Sachs said in one of his books that you can’t study, understand, and advise a country in it’s economic development path without going into the field, without clinically diagnosing what is the country’s “disease” so that you can find the best “remedy”. I agree. A field experience changes one’s looks and comprehension of the world. It does put life into perspective.
Khanimanbo.
4 comments 8 June 2008
A Few of My Favorite Clients
“Blackouts without notice
And “internet down”
Spreadsheets that prod me
To cry and frown
Riding on motos
And closing my eyes
Clients are always my humanity ties…”
Okay, fine, that was really corny. Consider yourself lucky, though, because it was either that or “In da Field” to the tune of “In da Club” by Fiddie Cent.
This wonderful woman read my palm. She told me that if I married it would be to an older man, then asked me why I would want to marry such an old man. I don’t know? Also, at 64 she runs a fairly lucrative pillowcase business with her cousin to help support her quad-generational family of seven.
Probably the coolest elderly couple of all time. She made delicious khmer cakes with sticky rice, bananas and coconuts and sell mangos in the market. They were serious about making me their daughter-in-law. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but I’m pretty sure my buddies Vichet and Sopheap were busy trying to arrange a dowry from them.
“Give me my money!” The pearls are an extra nice touch, lady.
Vichet, Josh, and I are really happy — we are fresh on sugar highs induced by the homemade sodas this lovely client made for us. She is also a member of the Human Rights party and has fantastic business ideas and plans.
This client had an otherworldly regal beauty. Josh and I were awestruck and couldn’t stop talking about it for days. She sold homemade Khmer food at a food stand by her house.
Talk about badass. This lady took her loan so that she could purchase her stand instead of paying rent and commission on it. Now she rakes in around $250 per day.
2 comments 1 June 2008
Is Impact Impact?
Probably one of the biggest issues facing microfinance today is that of impact. To what extent has microfinance actually affected global poverty? In what ways can its impact be measured, and how sustainable is it? Will it continue to grow? Though I agree that understanding impact is crucial and developing social impact studies and matrices is a valuable undertaking, I question the ability we have to concretely measure the more soft-data effects. How does one quantify the feeling of being better off?
One of the main responsibilities of Kiva fellows is to assist with the journaling process of our MFIs. With no interest rates, journals are the only tangible ROI for Kiva lenders. They are intended to show the progress of the clients’ businesses and essentially attempt to convey the impact of the loans on the clients’ lives. This opportunity to witness impact first-hand is probably what excited me most about this experience. Having now worked in Cambodia with CREDIT MFI for almost two months now, the interviews I have had with clients for these journals have done a tremendous amount to inform my own attempts to answer these questions.
With the clients I have met, repairs and construction, buying motorbikes, purchasing inventory, tools and equipment for their businesses, and paying for basic household amenities make up the overwhelming majority of loan usages. Those that are able to generate greater income after applying the loans tend to reinvest in their businesses, pay for their children’s education, and try to set aside a savings. Most hope for higher education and a better standard of living for their children.
In many ways, I find all of these motivations, applications, and hopes to be not unlike those of individual borrowers in the States. Mortgage payments, student loans, and start-up capital for businesses are what come to my mind when I think about why people I know borrow money from banks at home.
What strikes me is that at its root, microfinance is a singularly simple concept. “Small finance”– providing access to reasonable financial services in denominations that are proportional to the income and needs of the very poor. A concept that is so bizarrely basic that it is has become revolutionary. Yet we wouldn’t expect access to loans to prevent bankruptcy or to guarantee upward income mobility at home. It would be equally foolish to expect total global poverty alleviation at the hands of microfinance.
What microfinance does do is provide financial access to those who exist outside of mainstream financial systems. This “normalizing” effect can serve as a powerful catalyst and tool. It is what makes the concept revolutionary and the implementation necessary –regardless of the tangible social impact that we are able to measure out of it.
1 comment 1 June 2008
Ruth
The first week I came to MCDT, Justine, my supervisor, and Olivia, her supervisor, were looking at pictures of borrowers they were preparing to post to the Kiva website. They called me over to look at one person in particular, standing in the middle of a group of five and said, “You must meet Ruth!” They told me she was the embodiment of the entrepreneurial spirit and a real survivor. They told me how she’s living with AIDS and lost her husband to the disease 10 years ago. They told me how she as at least 5 businesses. I didn’t know quite what that meant until I went to visit her earlier this week.
Justine and I walked down the hill from the MCDT office to Kamwokya, the slum area where MCDT gave out its first loans. Walking through the narrow alleyways and jumping over a few gutters, we reached Ruth’s home. We went into the most cluttered house I’ve seen here in Uganda, but it was cluttered for a reason: everything would be used for some business purpose or another.
There was very little light in the house because huge bags of charcoal were stacked up around the outside (business #1). Inside, a woman sat on a stool waiting for Ruth to return to finish braiding her hair (business #2); next to that stood an ironing board with an iron heated with charcoal for Ruth’s laundry business (business #3). In the inner room, even darker than the first, with just a little light coming through a gap in the corrugated metal roof, Justine and I sat on a small sofa while Ruth sat on a mat she had woven and brought out other mats she had made and sells (business #4). She could have brought down one of three kerosene lanterns she keeps on top of a wooden breakfront that she rents out to people (business #5). In the lower right hand cabinet we could see several phones that she has used as pay phones, but the person she had employed to help her with that was unavailable. She was waiting to find someone to do that so she could start the payphone business again (business #6). To our right was a stack of baskets she had woven that she not only sells, but also rents out to people who are making a formal presentation to bridal families (business #7).
After a short visit, we went outside again to see Ruth’s grocery (business #8). Immediately to the right of the grocery is a small hut which is Ruth’s pub (business #9). We went into the pub, which is about 8’ X 10’ or thereabouts, where Ruth displayed her wares. (I asked if she had any waragi, or local brew, an alcohol made from sugar cane. She held up a bottle. Then she pulled out a plastic packet of vodka and said, “Mazungu waragi.” Yes, indeed.)
The first picture heres show Ruth standing between her grocery business and the entrance to the pub. You can also see the charcoal at her feet. The second picture shows her sitting in her pub.
As we left, Justine told me about some of Ruth’s struggle to make sure she pays her loans on time. She gave me this story as an example. Ruth travels out to the country to see to each shipment of charcoal, wanting to make sure to get good chunks rather than charcoal dust. One time, one of the coals was still burning and the whole shipment of charcoal burned before she even got it home. Because MCDT offers group guaranteed loans, Ruth could have said she simply couldn’t pay that week and depended on the other group members to pay for her. Instead, she got sugar cane on credit, chopped them into bite-sized pieces and bagged them, putting them out for sale near her pay phones (business #10). Somehow, she was able to scrape enough money together to pay back her loan each week on time. The dedication and integrity she has shown is simply remarkable. Goodness knows not every borrower is like that, but the fact is there are borrowers like this, and it is a real honor to meet them and know that these loans are making a difference when taken in conjunction with ability, spirit and will.
3 comments 31 May 2008
Final Thoughts
Does microlending work? That’s one of the questions that I wanted to answer as a Kiva Fellow and that’s the question I’ve been asked on numerous occasions since I returned to Seattle. After a couple of weeks of readjusting to the American pace of life, I’m prepared to provide an answer.
Yes, it works. But, it works differently than I thought.
When I left for Ghana, I had my preconceptions about microfinance. I was intrigued by how these loans could enable wealth creation for the working poor. Through my market-oriented frame of reference, I was hoping to see how a loan was helping an entrepreneur expand their business from a small market space and beyond. Perhaps, it is my American-bred fascination with innovation and aggressive growth, but I viewed the loans as an opportunity to invest in the next big idea in a small corner of the world. What I found out after three months in the field is that wealth is being created, but it’s a different kind of wealth.
While there are stories of how microfinance borrowers have used their loans to significantly expand their business, the majority of the stories are much more human, more real and, in the end, more meaningful. After interviewing more than one hundred borrowers and asking them how the loans have changed their lives, the most common answer was not about their business. Instead, it was about how the loan allowed them to help pay for their children’s school fees, put more food on their table, and pay for health insurance. Sure, the loans helped them increase their inventories, sales, and profits. But, more than creating wealth these loans are providing a type of social insurance to these borrowers. As a Kiva lender I am not simply financing a business, but financing a safety net.
And, in the process of answering one question, I realized I had answered another question. What does a profit-oriented social business look like? It looks like the single Ghanaian mother whose thriving roadside cocoa yam stand enables her to keep her business running and keep her daughter in school. A true double-bottom line. And its all powered by loans from Kiva lenders.
3 comments 29 May 2008
Fortune and Privilege
Higher education opportunities aren’t a reality for most females in Cambodia. Making it to university is a feat for the average male, let alone female. With limited household income, rural families have difficulties supporting their children through school, especially beyond a primary education. The odds for children to make it through secondary school will inevitably be dependent upon the school’s distance from the household: transportation to and from can be cost prohibitive. Take into account the large number of households that must pull their children out to support the family income, and the pool becomes even smaller. If a family is fortunate enough to have the funds and economic security to support a child through school, the luck of the draw ends here for the one or two of the lot who will be chosen and the male children will be prioritized for the privilege. Given this, I am always inspired to learn about the backgrounds of those who have made it against the odds and how much they relish their “fortune.’
Meet Chandeth Phon, Credit Officer at Maxima.
Q: How was she able to continue her studies to university, when so many others cannot?
A: She continued her studies until the 9th grade, at which point she returned home to support her family by weaving. Very driven in school, and never falling below the top 3 in her class, she was devastated when she had to quit. Watching her brothers continue their studies, although they lacked her focus and drive, made her all the more frustrated.
Three years later, upon finishing 12th grade, her friends were preparing to take the university entrance exam. As passionate as ever about continuing her education, Chandeth convinced her parents to let her take the test, and eventually talked them into letting her attend university.
She still remembers the day Mr. Kiry, Loan Manager at Maxima, crossed the river from Phnom Penh to visit her island. He was recruiting new staff members for Maxima. When asked if she would like to join the team, Chandeth jumped at the opportunity. One month after working at the MFI, she started attending university- resuming her education for the first time since 9th grade and holding her own in the classroom.
Q: How does she finance her education?
A: Now finishing her second year of university, she is able to pay for school on her own, thanks to the interest-free loans* Maxima offers its employees for education.
*60% of Maxima staff members are capitalizing upon the interest-free education loans to pursue continued studies. A typical day for most starts around 6 am with work ending around 5 pm. Then it’s off to school until 8:30 pm, followed by the commute home and a late dinner. While some credit officers attend classes on the weekends, those who don’t are back in the office on Saturday, working to promote microcredit offerings and recruit more KIVA clients.
The work of a credit officer never ends, but you won’t find one complaining. In fact, you hear the opposite. In the words of Chandeth, “I used to think I had no fortune in life. I was so unhappy I could not go to school and I did not want to weave. Now I think that I have great fortune… I am much more fortunate than others.”
1 comment 26 May 2008
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