Tag Archives: Ghana

Corruption – A receipt is not enough

13 Mar

There were signs all over Iloilo City when I was there – urging people to ask for receipts.

(Right next to those asking people to vote NO on the Reproductive Health Bill — making for an interesting political display of corruption and sex.)

Businesses had all sorts of clever incentives to encourage their customers to keep an eye out for their receipts — free goods, deductions from bills, or vouchers for subsequent purchases.

This is motivated by a desire to formalise the economy, reduce corruption — and ostensibly to increase city taxes.

Australia — model nation?

One thing I’ve discovered in my travels this year is that Australians are renowned for being uncorrupt, law-abiding citizens.

When I was in Ghana, a friend told me she wouldn’t move to Australia because “it would be too hard to do business.” In Greece I was told by a former Australian — with eyebrows suggestively raised — that it was “nice” to be able to negotiate directly with the person you are speaking to.

I guess this might be part of the reason I’m so oblivious to corruption. In Ghana I paid a bribe to a police officer without realising. The Philippines is renowned as one of the most corrupt countries in the world, and yet, despite doing business there I did not witness to any “unusual” interactions. In Indonesia I baulked at the tax rate, before I was told it was only a “special tax”, applicable only in “special” situations.

I just don’t get it

I just don’t.

I keep having faith in the rules. I just think — well, if you keep following them, you’ll get where you need to get to, eventually. Even where corruption is pervasive. With patience you’ll jump through all the hoops, pass all the red tape.

Except of course, in all those situations when you can’t.

When I was in India, I was told of a dedicated NGO worker who was building schools for disadvantaged kids, and had to pay $2,000 in bribes to extend his visa..

In the Philippines, I was told of a development project which received around $2,000 in funds. But these funds would not be released by the local government, unless a $200 “processing charge” was paid.

When I was in Mauritius, I was told of a lucrative exclusive mobile phone contract which was awarded, after a “gift” of several very luxurious cars was received.

C.K. Prahalad in his book Fortune at the Bottom of the Pyramid recounts story after story of agricultural workers, who were routinely exploited by the only purchasers they were able to access — middlemen who “weighed products incorrectly” and shifted purchasing prices at a moment’s notice.

What would you do?

I’d like to think I’d be a pillar of society in the face of corruption, just like this inspiring Acumen Fund project who stood his ground and refused to pay any bribe to a local government for his local development project.

But the reality is probably very different.

Would I want to stop working on a school project I was utterly dedicated to? Would I want my development project to stop? Would I want to be responsible for slowing cheap connectivity to Mauritius?

A friend in Nepal related a situation in his engineering work where a contractor had put a significant amount of pressure on him to approve sub-par work. His manager told my friend that he had no choice, he had to sign it off. If he didn’t, he might lose his job.

This reminded me of difficult situations I’d seen the engineers at my former workplace in.

Except in this case, my Nepali friend got paid (a significant sum) to sign it off.

A receipt is not enough

My friend in Mexico told me that I had no idea about how difficult it was to evade corruption. In Mexico she was labelled an evangelical for imploring her friends to stop encouraging corruption. They would laugh at her.

In theory, we all are on the side of my Mexican friend. Corruption reduces access to information — making business and general everyday life trickier. It takes even more power out of the hands of those who can least afford it.

But what would you do if your boss told you you would lose your job if you didn’t approve a set of shoddy documents?

And I’d been thinking it was enough to ask for a receipt.

Image:  Some rights reserved by toastforbrekkie

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On having a mission – Part 1

3 Oct

This is my scariest post so far, right before this one a few weeks ago.

Like the last one, this one took many edits and a while to post.

Many changes of tack until I got to an approach which began to look acceptable. So now, it is actually 3 posts.

And despite these editsI keep thinking, what if I’ve got it wrong? What happens if I change my mind?

What if I fail?

Actually I already know I am going to fail.

Actually, I hope to have the strength to fail many times. To be completely broken.

So here it is.

Thoughts on a mission for life which is not yet fully resolved.

Phrases which seem to make sense at the moment are “contribution”. “Global”. “Sustainability”. And most of all “poverty”.

I don’t know exactly what this means yet or how it is going to work.

When I was in Ghana I met an amazing woman who was building a vocational training centre for unemployed youth in the far west of the country. She was directing the whole thing and using funds from a small province in Canada.

She was 67.

In 40 years I’ll be 67.

So I’m giving myself 40 years to make this happen. To figure out what it means. I figure just like anything else in life it will take practice. So I just need to work at it a little every day.

There will be many steps.

But I want my first to be to begin to understand.

To understand what it means to be poor.

To understand what has been done so far.

And to understand why it is that it has not been enough.

To help me understand more of what I should do next, and why.

As part of all this I’m going to start giving a substantial amount this year to charities which work in poor communities.

I’m going to need to some help with the how and who.

More on this soon.

—> You can read now also read Part 2 and Part 3

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Transitions (or, exhaustion + devastation + airports = remarkable thinking)

10 Sep

There is something about leaving a country which you have lived and worked in, and straight away moving to another one.

This year I have done this so many times I am starting to lose count. Already I am at 7, and I think that I will have 3 more before the year is out.

(For the travel hackers amongst you, I think my year is going to look something like this: SYD-MAU-ACC-ATH-ACC-SYD-ILO-KTM-SFO-PNH-CGK)

At the beginning of the year I kept asking people who moved around a lot what the hardest thing about travelling was. I thought maybe I would get tired of living out of a bag, or that I would miss my family, or my close friends, or you know, zucchinis.

I didn’t think it would be the transitions.

I am not upset to be without roots this year, in a way I feel like I have been without roots my whole life.

But somewhere in the transition of picking up everything to put it back down into a new place, my body seems to go into a state of shock.

I usually cry on the plane. When I went back toSydneyfor 3 weeks I felt bizarrely numb for a few days, in a way I could not explain to people. It was just plain weird. And then everything came crashing down and I cancelled all my plans, instead spending a weekend inside with my brother, staring at a wall.

(Don’t worry, insane amounts of partying still happened, just later on).

I think part of the reason for this is the last week before I leave anywhere is totally packed – catching up with friends, finishing off projects, getting through all the “lasts”. I am usually utterly exhausted by the time I leave. And the first week in my new country is always relatively quiet.

So it goes from super intense to super quiet, and the realisation of what I am doing hits me. Where exactly am I? What exactly is it that I think I am doing? Am I crazy?

Not to mention the the thought of all the amazing experiences that I have left behind. The people I will probably never see again.The fragments of language and expressions that I have learnt. And the weird nuances of culture that you only get from being in a place.

(In Mauritius– being in a meeting where three languages are spoken at once. In thePhilippines– the flamboyant culture. In Ghana–the MASSIVE religious billboards. And in Nepal– the relaxed attitude to privacy).

The flip side is that this outpouring of emotion has brought on some of the best ideas that I have had this year. I have written beautiful poetry. Come up with business ideas. Followed up on hard things which I really needed to do. And formulated all of the things which are most exciting about this year. Including achieving all my goals for this year in 7 months – and they were not small.

Call me crazy, but I can only conclude that there is something remarkable about the combination of exhaustion, devastation and airports. Alone, they are just irritants – but with their powers combined…?

My brother reminds me of often of my own words:

“I don’t mind being upset, because I often do my best thinking when I am upset”.

As I prepare myself for the shock that will be leaving Nepal for San Francisco, I am going to do my best to take solace in these words.

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<3 Bus Trips

4 Aug
Three-reasons-to-love bus trips:
  • Sometimes, like just around the corner, you arrive at something you were not expecting. Like the amazing scenery of Panay.
  • In Ghana and the Philippines at least, amazing food, delivered right to your seat
  • Guilt free day dreaming time

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<3 The things I forget about myself

2 Jun

Everyone has things which they forget they do. That they keep being reminded about.

Here are my three-reasons-to-love the things I forget about myself:

  1. I eat very, very slowly. I always have – since before I can remember. But I forget. Or I don’t notice. I am told, by Ghanaians, that I am not using the correct technique for eating. This makes me laugh.
  2. Actually, this makes me laugh with my whole body. I often laugh with my whole body. But I keep forgetting this, which means I keep doing it. This makes other people laugh. Which makes me laugh even more. (With my whole body).
  3. All this laughing makes people tell me I am crazy. This, I am sure is true. And this, I definitely keep forgetting. But this, I have to love. Because this, this is what brought me here.

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<3 tro-tros

26 May

My three-reasons-to-love tro-tros:

  1. They are, in the words of Pearl, ‘ridiculously’ cheap and convenient.
  2. If you ask a question the entire tro-tro load will try and answer.
  3. Passengers on board will randomly erupt in synchronised laughter or song, depending on the content of the on-board radio.

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Life in Ghana part 2 (or, the value of patience, take 2)

16 May

Seeing as the last post elicited so much feedback here are a few more thoughts on Ghana, thus far.

Wow, the passion.

In addition to an amazing sense of humour – Ghanaians are so, so impassioned. Especially when it comes to the top three: Ghanaian politics, religion and the sport of all sports, soccer. (Sorry, football).

I am constantly being asked about what I think about Ghanaian politics. And actually, politics in general. I swear people here know more about politics in Australia than many Australians do.

Then I am asked about religion. (Wait, you are not Christian? You must come to my church!).

Then my favourite soccer team. (WAIT, WAIT, WAIT. You DO NOT HAVE A FAVOURITE TEAM?!).

Doing business.

Or should I say, doing bureaucracy.

Nothing is available online. No one knows the phone number of the person you need to speak to.

You first need to go to this building. (I don’t know the street, but it is around the corner from that building. You don’t know it?)

Then, you need to find out when said person is back from lunch/meeting/taking over the world.

Then when you meet said person, you need to come back with a letter, typed on letterhead with your request.

Then you need to pay at the cashier and wait 5 working days for your answer.

And yes, you will need to sit 2 hours in traffic either way, each time.

Working with NGOs

This has reminded me how hard it is working at a distance – with organisations you don’t know and with people you’ve never met.

With international consultants. International investors. International donors. Who fly in, and then fly out. Who expect answers and results, right away (thankyouverymuch).

Who send different people, with no warning, every time. (Who still expect answers right away).

Who change their addresses and bank account details and don’t tell you.

Who have given me much respect for the Acumen Fund’s mantra of “patient capital”.

And plenty of much needed time to work on my patience.

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Advice to myself when I was 17 (or, what to do when you are sad)

10 May

The Sunscreen Song is so, so popular on the radio over here in Ghana.

Hearing it over and over has got me to thinking – what sort of advice would I give to myself 10 years ago?

(Also, this would hardly seem a blog with an “advice to my young self” post).

Eating is the most important things that you do every day.

If you do nothing else each day, eat.

And do it often.

Don’t worry so much about what. Or how much.

Just do it.

And stop skipping breakfast.

(You will again get this feedback in a career performance review in 10 years time).

Relationships are important. And everyone can teach you something.

You already know this.

But, I cannot emphasise it enough. There will be times when you will wonder whether it is really worth the effort.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

No matter their age, 4, 40, 400, other people have had a lifetime of experience that you have not had. And they can point out things about you that you will never be able to see.

On top of that, every single major event in your life (thus far) will be precipitated and then aided by a relationship which has been forged over time.

(Thank you, thank you, thank you)

Don’t worry so much about finding inspiration, it will come.

Just be on the lookout for when it does.

And leave the time and space to act when it does.

(This includes the middle of the night).

Also, on that, relationships will come. And as my father reminded me just this weekend, responsibility, it too will come.

There is nothing wrong with sadness.

So be patient and it will pass. It always does.

It is a part of you, just like it is a part of everybody else.

But it is hardly all that you are.

Incidentally, the best way to fix sadness is people (see relationships, above).

But, you will keep forgetting this.

So keep reminding yourself.

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 Thoughts on inspiration in this post come from Hugh McLeod.

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Life in Ghana, thus far.

3 May

A few thoughts on life in Ghana thus far.

Why all the interest?

Friends have been far more interested in my time here in Ghana than they were in Mauritius. I was also more interested in coming here than Mauritius.

Perhaps Mauritius just felt like another tropical island, as similar as those off the east coast of Australia.

Perhaps West Africa feels far away. Australians seem to make the trek to South America more often than Africa.

Perhaps it is the violence prominent in news about the region – with conflicts in Cote d’Ivoire, Burkina Faso and Nigeria.

 So, about the conflict?

It is all very far away from the busy streets of Accra.

As a Ghanaian put it to me – why do you keep asking? It is miles away from here!

Perhaps they are used to it. But more likely that it feels just as far away as past conflicts in East Timor and Indonesia did to Australians.

First impressions of Accra

The first thing that struck me is the constant haze. I’ve hardly seen blue sky here at all. Next was the disparity in living conditions. My 3 star hotel home looks down onto a tin shed with an outdoor wood fire kitchen which a multi-generational family calls home.

Also similar to Mauritius, it has been hard to make myself understood here. This is despite English being the national language. Speaking on the phone is difficult, and AGAIN the problems with directions.

(But, I think I’m learning this might just be me.)

And there are SO MANY languages. Twi and Pidgin English in the office, Gaa elsewhere in Accra, Ewe with the hotel staff and the places I’ve been hanging out the east.

You try learning how to say “How are you” in 4 different languages at once!

So, we hear you had a car accident.

Ah, yes, the driving.

Firstly, may I point out they drive on the other side of the road. And I am driving the largest car I have ever driven. (Cars here seem to either be 4x4s or 20 year old sedans).

Driving here is quite aggressive. Cars will pull out in front of you and expect you to stop. In return, you must also pull out in front of other cars and trust they will stop.

But, people generally do not drive fast. And truly unsafe driving is completely frowned upon. Drivers are ALWAYS paying attention and driving defensively. You will get a short (friendly) honk if you are doing something wrong.

Which is especially appreciated by this yovo driving on the wrong side of the road.

This ties in with what I am currently reading in Gladwell’s “What the Dog Saw”. He talks about risk homeostasis – where increased safety leads to people taking greater risks. As an example, the introduction of ABS saw taxi drivers become more reckless – driving faster, taking sharper turns and tailgating more. When Sweden changed over from driving on the left to the right traffic fatalities dropped by 17% in the following year.

But of course, people still make mistakes. The accident happened at about 5km/hr and I was rear ended by a tro-tro. (Mum, I am fine. The car is fine.)

And yes, yes, I am white

This is something I am reminded of frequently. Kids standing on the roadside in rural villages yell out “yovo” as I drive past. Architects in the office I work in will describe me to others as the “white lady”. The receptionist at a client’s office always remembers who I am as there are only two obruni’s who visit.

And the other is a man.

This is especially interesting for me as I am not considered white in Australia. Whites are from the UK or northern European. I am a wog.

Oh, the hilarity of it all

Luckily enough for me, Ghanaians have an amazing sense of humour.

They tease in the same way as Australians so I’m allowed to joke about everything.

My whiteness. How the cobbler told me he’d lost my shoes when he really just hadn’t finished. How my lunch lady charged me less every day that I visited her until she realised I was hanging around.  How I misunderstand everything. How I’ve had about 20 marriage proposals since arriving. How I TOTALLY LOVE the food. How I paid a bribe without realising.

And how much I totally want to stay.

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<3 Food in Ghana

28 Apr
three-reasons-to-love food in Ghana
  1. The dishes are AMAZING.
  2. Ghanaians have been so patient in teaching me how to eat it/make it/enjoy it.
  3. They have their own version of Mexican*.

(*Or perhaps Mexicans have their own version of Ghanaian?)

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