Mei Elander, International Development and Globalization, 4th year
Country of fieldwork: Malawi
Canadian NGO: WUSC
Local NGO: Kwathu Ndi Kwanu
Position: Communications and Inclusion Officer
As I wrap up my internship I want to use this space to reflect on my experience as a foreigner living in the Global South working to strengthen the capacity of one of WUSC’s local partner organizations.
It is a difficult life for many people here. I hope to give insight into the livelihoods of many people here. I feel it's my duty to share what I have seen and provide a platform for those whose voices often go unheard.
While the world is so large, it is also so small, a speck of dust in the giant universe. I sometimes wonder how it is that in the same world, the same country, the same town, such large inequalities exist. While I am housed in an Airbnb and have the privilege of a bed, consistent meals, and safety there are thousands of others in the city who lack access to these basic needs. Our security guard, for example, sleeps outside each night on a concrete bench in a space no larger than 3x3 meters.
Malawians work incredibly hard. Many I know have side businesses on top of their full-time jobs, waking up early or working late to earn enough money. Some make and sell mandasi, others drive taxis or are consultants outside of their normal working hours.
Many people use their physical labour to earn a living. Across from where I stay wood makers are constantly sawing wood and building tables. Almost anywhere I go I see bicycles loaded with charcoal, sticks, pigs, and other goods that must weigh at least 50kg. I meet women along my runs who carry 5-gallon buckets of water on their heads or piles of sticks that are longer than myself. Women get up at 4:30 to cook fresh samosas, mandasi, and banana fritters to sell. Everywhere, women are set up selling baskets of fruit, oftentimes in the sun, making maybe $3 a day. On the main roads during rush hour, men hold up clothes, food, and electronics to sell to passing cars, standing directly in the hot sun for hours. Everywhere I go there are cyclists selling rides to people for next to nothing. I've taken one during my time here and felt guilty the entire time for the man biking around, even if I did pay him. Because so many are looking for work and one of their only skills is physical labour, it makes labour incredibly cheap here, perpetuating the need for jobs and desperation.
In all these situations I always wonder what happens if they're sick, if they're injured, or when they grow old. They have no unemployment insurance, sick leave, or social security. Being sick, injured, or old is a luxury that these people cannot afford.
One intern brought up the idea of pity. There is a fine line between pity and empathy. I've often found myself feeling pity and sorrow for the people here. However, as I've reflected, I realize that pity can prevent us from seeing the individual as an independent and autonomous human being. My immediate reaction was to help them and support them, but they never asked for my pity. Pity, I would argue, is a barrier to development and the goals we work towards. It fosters a white saviour complex where, because of our pity we feel compelled to help these poor people to alleviate our own guilt and sense of helplessness.
This is similar to empowerment. While I was creating a gender-sensitive and inclusive communications guide I referred to Oxfam's inclusive guidelines, where it advised against using the term "empowerment.” Initially, I was a little shocked because I've used this term countless times as does my organization. However, the explanation was that the people we're trying to support are already empowered, self-reliant people. Empowerment insinuates that we are the ones giving them power and independence.
Pity is a feeling that is difficult to grapple with, and difficult to stop. One of the guides who agreed to run with me on a hiking trail, and whom I ended up chatting with about his life, mentioned how he had completed secondary school, but was unable to pursue higher education because of money. When I asked what his goal was he said to become a doctor. At that moment I started fantasizing about creating a GoFundMe for him, imagining the donations pouring in and him fulfilling his dream of becoming a doctor. However, after reflecting upon it, he never asked me to do that. I had made up this fantasy situation in my head, where I would be the hero and he would be rich and successful. In the end, I tipped him what the guided run had cost, 15000mwk ($11.84CAN).
I find it hard to balance what is realistic and ethical in these situations. Would my actions have bordered on being a saviour? What is the correct response and action when listening to these stories?
I have yet to come up with an answer for how to act and feel in these situations. What I can say is that in my class about Indigenous Politics, we learned that what we can do is stand in solidarity with them. We can educate ourselves about life in Malawi. I can advocate on behalf of movements and work with local organizations. I can use these experiences to learn and reflect before I jump in and believe I can singlehandedly solve the problem.
What I can do for the people is listen to their stories. I can listen and try to understand their situation. I can be present and empathize with them instead of pitying them. I can use these stories to humble myself and reflect. The best I can do is keep these stories in mind when doing development work. These are people, not numbers. These are lives not just data.
Knowledge is power and I am determined to use my experience in Malawi as a guiding path for future work I do.