Connect with us

Op-Eds

White Saviours, Black Predators: What an NGO Tragedy Tells Us About Foreign Aid

7 min read.

Sex scandals exposed a culture of exploitation within leading NGOs, themselves deeply embedded in a White Saviour Industrial Complex. But what can we learn from the tragic story of ‘More than Me’? By RASNA WARAH.

Published

on

COCKUPS AND COVER-UPS: Why the #MeToo movement is unlikely to transform the UN
Download PDFPrint Article

A disturbing documentary released by ProPublica on 15 October shows how twisted, ill-informed and unaccountable foreign charities operating in Africa can be, and how Western donors are hoodwinked into supporting causes that may actually be doing more harm than good.

Unprotected tells the story of More Than Me (MTM), an NGO founded in 2008 by Katie Meyler, an American who has received several awards and accolades for helping poor Liberian girls go to school. The documentary’s main focus is on the MTM Academy in Monrovia, where female students were not just getting an education, but were also being systematically raped by none other than the NGO’s co-founder, Macintosh Johnson, a streetwise Liberian who recruited the girls from Monrovia’s poorest slums.

The story first surfaced after a Liberian nurse who worked at the MTM Academy found that many of the girls who came to see her were suffering from sexually transmitted diseases, including HIV, that they had contracted from Johnson. She initially did not report what she suspected to be sexual abuse by Johnson for fear of losing her job. And the girls did not complain about the abuse because they feared losing their scholarships. However, in 2014, a year after the academy opened, the nurse informed the school’s management, who according to MTM’s website, reported the allegations to the police. Johnson was subsequently arrested and tried but died of AIDS in prison in 2016 while awaiting re-trial.

Unfortunately, such incidents are not unique to this NGO. In recent months, particularly in the wake of the #MeToo movement, the staff of many NGOs and charities, including Oxfam and Save the Children, have been implicated in sexually exploiting women, girls or boys in countries where they operate. Recent cases, such as that of Peter Dalglish, a Canadian who is being tried in Nepal for sexually abusing boys, have highlighted the fact that paedophiles often use the cover of charity work to abuse vulnerable children in poor or strife-torn parts of the world.

However, while Unprotected does a good job of exposing the abuse carried about by Johnson, it also raises important questions about the nature of Western philanthropy in Africa. The documentary – which was also published as an article by TIME magazine – lays out in considerable detail how a young white woman with no experience in humanitarian work or in the field of education managed to raise millions of dollars for an NGO that claimed to be operating 19 schools and teaching 4,000 girls in Liberia. Nobody questioned why this large outfit was being managed by unqualified and inexperienced American administrators and teachers, and a US-based board, most of whose members had never been to Liberia.

In the wake of the #MeToo movement, the staff of many NGOs and charities, including Oxfam and Save the Children, have been implicated in sexually exploiting women, girls or boys in countries where they operate.

In the documentary, Iris Martor, the nurse who worked at MTM Academy, explains how white privilege allowed Meyler to get away with things that would have not been tolerated if she had been a black Liberian. “They think we are stupid, with little or no education, and our system is fragile, and they can get away with things because their skin is white,” commented Martor.

It is a phenomenon familiar to those who live in Africa: A 20-something white man or woman, looking for adventure in his or her gap year or because life back home is too comfortable or predictable, arrives in an African country for the first time, gets terribly moved by the poverty he or she sees, and decides to form a charity to help poor Africans. Before you know it, the charity manages to raise thousands, if not millions, of dollars and the young man or woman is touted as a saviour. Awards follow as do more donations. (Meyler was named Person of the Year by TIME magazine in 2014 and even had the ear of billionaire philanthropists, such as Warren Buffet, Opray Winfrey and Bill Gates.)

Iris Martor, the nurse who worked at the More Than Me Academy, explains how white privilege allowed Meyler to get away with things that would have not been tolerated if she had been a black Liberian.

Meanwhile, the Africans who are the object of these donations remain as poor or vulnerable as they were before because the intention of these NGOs is not to make them self-sufficient but to create dependency and to make the do-gooder feel good about him or herself.

The Nigerian-American writer Teju Cole dubbed this phenomenon “The White Saviour Industrial Complex”, which he says is not about justice but about having “a big emotional experience that validates privilege”. In an article published in The Atlantic in March 2012, Cole wrote: “Africa has provided a space onto which white egos can be conveniently projected. It is a liberated space in which the usual rules do not apply: a nobody from America or Europe can go to Africa and become a godlike saviour or, at the very least, have his or her emotional needs satisfied.”

Most of these charities have little oversight – they are rarely monitored by the governments of the countries where they operate and their board members, if any, are usually citizens of the charity founder’s country, not citizens of the beneficiary country, which means they have little knowledge of the culture, norms or laws of the country whose people are being helped by the charity.

Moreover, most of these charities are less accountable to the host country governments than to their Western donors, who for the most part do not care how the charities they fund carry out their day-to-day operations. This means that the charities are not bound by the rules and laws that govern public or state-run institutions and so can essentially make up their own rules. This leaves the recipients of their largesse completely at their mercy.

On their part, African governments are only too happy to hand over a job they should ideally be doing to these do-gooders. Their thinking is along these lines: Why spend money on a hospital or a school when rich Westerners are only too happy to do it? Who cares if the people who are supposedly being helped by these charities get exploited? At least they get to go to school/do not starve/get free medicine.

It is only now, after the release of the ProPublica documentary, that the Liberian government has launched an investigation into MTM. Meanwhile, Meyler has “temporarily” resigned from MTM and a US-based law firm has been appointed to audit the organisation’s governing structures and administrative policies.

Robtel Neajai Pailey, who used to work for the Liberian government when Meyler started MTM, says that often African governments willingly cede responsibility towards their citizens by encouraging foreign NGOs and charities to do the work of government in their countries. Former Liberian President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf not only endorsed MTM but also donated an abandoned government building to the NGO so it could build the MTM Academy. The Liberian Minister of Education also recruited Meyler to help Liberia privatise government-run schools.

“What qualified Meyler to a run a number of ‘partnership’ institutions is anyone’s guess,” Pailey wrote in a scathing opinion article published in AlJazeera. “A lot can be said about the failures of More Than Me and its reckless founder. However, Meyler is a symptom of something much more sinister. The biggest disappointment rests with us, Liberians, who neglected to protect the academy’s students from one of our own. We must accept this child rape saga as emblematic of our deeper, societal pathologies. Pathologies of secrecy, paedophilia and impunity. Pathologies of constantly looking outside of ourselves for solutions. Of pandering to clueless foreigners.”

Foreign charities and NGOs operating in Africa also fail to address the systemic and structural causes of poverty in Africa, and conveniently forget that the West contributed to making the continent poor. Slavery and colonialism robbed Africa of its human and natural resources. Neocolonial policies and aid dependency ensured that even after independence African countries were tied to Western capital. And Western corporations and the Bretton Woods institutions have created a situation where African countries are net creditors to the rest of the world.

“What qualified Meyler to a run a number of ‘partnership’ institutions is anyone’s guess,” Pailey wrote in a scathing opinion article published in AlJazeera. “A lot can be said about the failures of More Than Me and its reckless founder. However, Meyler is a symptom of something much more sinister. The biggest disappointment rests with us, Liberians…

“Honest Accounts 2017: How the World Profits from Africa’s Wealth”, a report published last year by a consortium of NGOs, including Global Justice Now and the Jubilee Debt Campaign, found that $134 billion, mainly in the form of loans, foreign investment and aid, enters Africa every year. However, $192 billion, mostly in the form of profits made by foreign companies and tax evasion, is taken out of the continent, which means that Africa suffers a net deficit of $58 billion every year. The report states that in 2015, African governments received $32.8 billion in loans but paid $18 billion in debt interest and principal payments. Africans in the diaspora remit $31 billion to the continent every year, almost the same amount that multinational corporations repatriate to their home countries annually. “The figures show that the rest of the world is profiting from the continent’s wealth – more so than most African citizens. Yet rich country governments simply tell their publics that their aid programmes are helping Africa. This is a distraction, and misleading,” concluded the report.

$134 billion, mainly in the form of loans, foreign investment and aid, enters Africa every year. However, $192 billion, mostly in the form of profits made by foreign companies and tax evasion, is taken out of the continent.

Foreign aid and foreign charities are, as Cole says, “a valve for releasing the unbearable pressures that build in a system built on pillage.” While Africa is systematically being impoverished by the West (and now increasingly by China), aid organisations and foreign charities are working overtime to fill a gap that should ideally be filled by African governments. This leaves African citizens vulnerable to incompetent and predatory foreign NGOs like MTM that end up doing more harm than good.

Foreign aid and foreign charities are…“a valve for releasing the unbearable pressures that build in a system built on pillage.”

African governments must bear the responsibility for this. They are the ones who enter into contracts with foreign mining companies that exploit Africa’s natural resources on unfair terms that mostly benefit the companies. They are the ones who take out huge, unsustainable loans that sink poor countries into debilitating debt. Much of Africa’s wealth is also siphoned by corrupt African leaders who deposit their loot in offshore tax havens. And because these leaders and their governments fail to provide essential services, such as education, to citizens, women like Meyler and her NGO fill the vacuum, often with devastating consequences.

Support The Elephant.

The Elephant is helping to build a truly public platform, while producing consistent, quality investigations, opinions and analysis. The Elephant cannot survive and grow without your participation. Now, more than ever, it is vital for The Elephant to reach as many people as possible.

Your support helps protect The Elephant's independence and it means we can continue keeping the democratic space free, open and robust. Every contribution, however big or small, is so valuable for our collective future.

Rasna Warah
By

Rasna Warah is a Kenyan writer and journalist. In a previous incarnation, she was an editor at the United Nations Human Settlements Programme (UN-Habitat). She has published two books on Somalia – War Crimes (2014) and Mogadishu Then and Now (2012) – and is the author UNsilenced (2016), and Triple Heritage (1998).

Op-Eds

Haiti: The Struggle for Democracy, Justice, Reparations and the Black Soul

Only the Haitian people can decide their own future. The dictatorship imposed by former president Jovenel Moïse and its imperialist enablers need to go – and make space for a people’s transition government.

Published

on

Haiti: The Struggle for Democracy, Justice, Reparations and the Black Soul
Download PDFPrint Article

Haiti is once again going through a profound crisis. Central to this is the struggle against the dictatorship imposed by former president Jovenel Moïse. Since last year Mr. Moise, after decreeing the dismissal of Parliament, has been ruling through decrees, permanently violating Haiti’s constitution. He has refused to leave power after his mandate ended on February 7, 2021, claiming that it ends on February 7 of next year, without any legal basis.

This disregard of the constitution is taking place despite multiple statements by the country’s main judicial bodies, such as the CSPJ (Superior Council of Judicial Power) and the Association of Haitian Lawyers. Numerous religious groups and numerous institutions that are representative of society have also spoken. At this time, there is a strike by the judiciary, which leaves the country without any public body of political power.

At the same time, this institutional crisis is framed in the insecurity that affects practically all sectors of Haitian society. An insecurity expressed through savage repressions of popular mobilizations by the PNH (Haitian National Police), which at the service of the executive power. They have attacked journalists and committed various massacres in poor neighborhoods. Throughout the country, there have been assassinations and arbitrary arrests of opponents.

Most recently, a judge of the High Court was detained under the pretext of promoting an alleged plot against the security of the State and to assassinate the president leading to the illegal and arbitrary revocation of three judges of this Court. This last period has also seen the creation of hundreds of armed groups that spread terror over the entire country and that respond to power, transforming kidnapping into a fairly prosperous industry for these criminals.

The 13 years of military occupation by United Nations troops through MINUSTAH and the operations of prolongation of guardianship through MINUJUSTH and BINUH have aggravated the Haitian crisis. They supported retrograde and undemocratic sectors who, along with gangsters, committed serious crimes against the Haitian people and their fundamental rights.

For this, the people of Haiti deserve a process of justice and reparations. They have paid dearly for the intervention of MINUSTAH: 30 THOUSAND DEAD from cholera transmitted by the soldiers, thousands of women raped, who now raise orphaned children. Nothing has changed in 13 years, more social inequality, poverty, more difficulties for the people. The absence of democracy stays the same.

The poor’s living conditions have worsened dramatically as a result of more than 30 years of neoliberal policies imposed by the International Financial Institutions (IFIs), a severe exchange rate crisis, the freezing of the minimum wage, and inflation above 20% during the last three years.

It should be emphasized that, despite this dramatic situation, the Haitian people remain firm and are constantly mobilizing to prevent the consolidation of a dictatorship by demanding the immediate leave of office by former President Jovenel Moïse.

Taking into account the importance of this struggle and that this dictatorial regime still has the support of imperialist governments such as the United States of America, Canada, France, and international organizations such as the UN, the OAS, and the EU, the IPA calls its members to contribute their full and active solidarity to the struggle of the Haitian people, and to sign this Petition that demands the end of the dictatorship as well as respect for the sovereignty and self-determination of the Haitian people, the establishment of a transition government led by Haitians to launch a process of authentic national reconstruction.

In addition to expressing our solidarity with the Haitian people’s resistance, we call for our organisations to demonstrate in front of the embassies of the imperialist countries and before the United Nations. Only the Haitian people can decide their future. Down with Moise and yes to a people’s transition government, until a constituent is democratically elected.

Continue Reading

Op-Eds

Deconstructing the Whiteness of Christ

While many African Christians can only imagine a white Jesus, others have actively promoted a vision of a brown or black Jesus, both in art and in ideology.

Published

on

Deconstructing the Whiteness of Christ
Download PDFPrint Article

When images of a white preacher and actor going around Kenya playing Jesus turned up on social media in July 2019, people were rightly stunned by the white supremacist undertone of the images. They suggested that Africans were prone to seeing Jesus as white, promoting the white saviour narrative in the process. While it is true that the idea of a white Jesus has been prevalent in African Christianity even without a white actor, and many African Christians and churches still entertain images of Jesus as white because of the missionary legacy, many others have actively promoted a vision of Jesus as brown or black both in art an in ideology.

Images of a brown or black Jesus is as old as Christianity in Africa, especially finding a prominent place in Ethiopian Orthodox Church, which has been in existence for over sixteen hundred years. Eyob Derillo, a librarian at the British Library, recently brought up a steady diet of these images on Twitter. The image of Jesus as black has also been popularised through the artistic project known as Vie de Jesus Mafa (Life of Jesus Mafa) that was conducted in Cameroon.

The most radical expression of Jesus as a black person was however put forth by a young Kongolese woman called Kimpa Vita, who lived in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth century. Through the missionary work of the Portuguese, Kimpa Vita, who was a nganga or medicine woman, became a Christian. She taught that Jesus and his apostles were black and were in fact born in São Salvador, which was the capital of the Kongo at the time. Not only was Jesus transposed from Palestine to São Salvador, Jerusalem, which is a holy site for Christians, was also transposed to São Salvador, so that São Salvador became a holy site. Kimpa Vita was accused of preaching heresy by Portuguese missionaries and burnt at the stake in 1706.

It was not until the 20th century that another movement similar to Vita’s emerged in the Kongo. This younger movement was led by Simon Kimbangu, a preacher who went about healing and raising the dead, portraying himself as an emissary of Jesus. His followers sometimes see him as the Holy Spirit who was to come after Jesus, as prophesied in John 14:16. Just as Kimpa Vita saw São Salvador as the new Jerusalem, Kimbangu’s village of Nkamba became, and still is known as, the new Jerusalem. His followers still flock there for pilgrimage. Kimbangu was accused of threatening Belgian colonial rule and thrown in jail, where he died. Some have complained that Kimbangu seems to have eclipsed Jesus in the imagination of his followers for he is said to have been resurrected from the dead, like Jesus.

Kimbangu’s status among his followers is however similar to that of some of the leaders of what has been described as African Independent Churches or African Initiated Churches (AICs). These churches include the Zionist churches of Southern Africa, among which is the amaNazaretha of Isaiah Shembe. Shembe’s followers see him as a divine figure, similar to Jesus, and rather than going to Jerusalem for pilgrimage, his followers go to the holy city of Ekuphakameni in South Africa. The Cameroonian theologian, Fabien Eboussi Boulaga, in his Christianity Without Fetish, see leaders like Kimbangu and Shembe as doing for their people in our own time what Jesus did for his people in their own time—providing means of healing and deliverance in contexts of grinding oppression. Thus, rather than replacing Jesus, as they are often accused of doing, they are making Jesus relevant to their people. For many Christians in Africa, therefore, Jesus is already brown or black. Other Christians still need to catch up with this development if we are to avoid painful spectacles like the one that took place Kenya.

This post is from a partnership between Africa Is a Country and The Elephant. We will be publishing a series of posts from their site once a week.

Continue Reading

Op-Eds

In Magufuli’s Shadow: The Stark Choices Facing Tanzania’s New President

One immediate concern is what steps Hassan will take on the pandemic, and whether she will change direction.

Published

on

In Magufuli’s Shadow: The Stark Choices Facing Tanzania’s New President
Photo: Flickr/Gospel Kitaa
Download PDFPrint Article

The sudden death of Tanzania’s President John Pombe Magufuli has thrown the East African nation into a period of political uncertainty.

Vice-president, Samia Suluhu Hassan, has been sworn in as his successor, making her Tanzania’s first woman president.

The transition is all the more challenging given the major rupture – both political and economic – caused by Magufuli’s presidency. Magufuli, who won a second term in October 2020, dramatically centralised power and pursued an interventionist economic policy agenda. He courted controversy on a number of fronts, most recently, by claiming that Tanzania – contrary to mounting evidence – was Covid-free.

Hassan has called for unity and counselled that now is not the time to look at what has passed but rather to look at what is to come.

Despite the 61-year-old leader’s forward-looking stance, questions remain about how Magufuli’s legacy will shape her time in office.

The authoritarian turn

Magufuli oversaw the marginalisation of opposition parties and a decline in civil liberties. His first term was defined by heightened intimidation and violence against opposition leaders, including disappearances and physical attacks.

Thanks to five years of repression, the October 2020 general elections saw the opposition all but wiped out of elected office. The ruling Chama Cha Mapinduzi now controls all local government councils. It also holds 97% of directly elected legislative seats, up from 73% in 2015.

In addition, media freedom and civil liberties were also restricted. A law passed in 2018 imposed jail terms for questioning the accuracy of official statistics.

But Magufuli’s authoritarian tendencies were not unprecedented in Tanzania. For instance, the rule of his predecessor Jakaya Kikwete was also marred by human rights abuses as well civil society and media repression. Kikwete also cancelled Zanzibar’s 2015 election due to a likely opposition victory.

It remains to be seen whether Hassan will adopt a more liberal approach, loosening restrictions on opposition parties, the media and civil society. Even if she does, the damage will take time to repair. Opposition parties, for instance, may well struggle to regain their strength. Among other setbacks, they have lost almost all local elected representatives – a core element of their organisational infrastructure built up painstakingly over decades.

Centralising power in the party

Another key pillar to Magufuli’s legacy is the centralisation of power within the Chama Cha Mapinduzi.

In the early years under founding president Julius Nyerere, Tanzania’s ruling party was dominated by the president and a hierarchy of appointed state and party officials. But, following economic liberalisation in the 1980s and Nyerere’s retirement from politics, the party became steeped in factional rivalries. These were spurred by new political alliances and an emerging private sector business elite.

This factionalism reached its height under Kikwete amid accusations of widespread corruption. Magufuli’s nomination as party presidential candidate only occurred because the rivalry among these factions left him as the unexpected compromise candidate.

Once in office, though, Magufuli quickly signalled he would be nobody’s puppet. He used his position as ruling party chairman to create a “new” Chama Cha Mapinduzi. This involved breaking with party heavyweights, including Kikwete, suppressing factional organising, and consolidating his own support base.

Magufuli’s new base was a cohort of freshly appointed party officials as well as civil servants and cabinet ministers. His loyalists likened these changes to a revival of Nyerere’s Chama Cha Mapinduzi. But, in our view, the comparison is misleading.

Like Magufuli before her, Hassan will be taking office – and party leadership – without her own political base. She will also have to contend with revived factional manoeuvring as sidelined groups try to regain an upper hand.

Hassan could align with a loyal Magufuli faction, which includes influential figures within the party. But, early indications suggest she intends to follow the advice of “party elders”, notably Kikwete. The former president reportedly attended the party’s most recent central committee meeting on Hassan’s invitation.

Aligning herself with Kikwete will likely lead to the reemergence of the internal factional rivalries that characterised the former president’s tenure.

Implications for economic policy

If president Hassan does continue to take a political steer from Kikwete, one likely outcome is that there will be a change in economic policy. In particular, a return to growth that’s led by a more business-friendly approach to the private sector.

Calls are already being made for such a course of action..

The danger for Hassan, however, is that under Kikwete this model was associated with high levels of corruption and unproductive rent-seeking.

A careful reassessment of the Magufuli era is needed to guide future policymaking.

Magufuli used his control over the ruling party to pursue an ambitious policy agenda. This was also linked to his political project of centralising power.

Although this trend actually began under Kikwete, Magufuli accelelrated a move towards more state-led investment. Under his leadership, both state-owned and, increasingly, military-owned enterprises were offered strategic contracts.

This ambitious programme initially won him praise. But over time, his authoritarian decision-making, mismanagement, and lack of transparency prompted a more critical response.

Many state enterprises remained cash-starved, relied on government financial support, and registered losses.

When the government’s controller and auditor general called for more scrutiny of public finances, his budget was slashed. And he was ultimately forced to retire and replaced by a Magufuli loyalist.

Alongside state investment, the president also sought to discipline private sector actors. Some observers suggest that this led to more productive investment, notably by domestic investors. But others point to renewed crony capitalist ties.

Magufuli’s most high profile corporate battle was against Canadian-owned Barrick Gold and its former subsidiary, Acacia Mining. From the two, he demanded USD$190 billion in tax arrears and a renegotiation of operating terms.

Many saw this resource-nationalist approach as an inspiration and a model for African countries seeking to take greater control of their mineral wealth. But in the end – partly due to externally imposed legal and economic constraints – Magufuli walked back on some of his demands. Instead he opted for cooperation rather than confrontation.

He negotiated a joint venture in which Barrick took a majority stake of 84% and Tanzania the remaining 16%. Key elements of the nationalistic mining legislation passed in 2017 were also reversed.

On the plus side gold overtook tourism as Tanzania’s biggest foreign-exchange earner. In addition, some small-scale miners saw their livelihoods improve. Results were more mixed elsewhere, especially for Tanzanite miners in the country’s north.

Ultimately, Magufuli leaves behind a mixed economic legacy. It combines misdirected authoritarian decision-making with positive efforts to pursue an active industrial policy. Reining in unproductive domestic investors and renegotiating adverse contracts with foreign investors were part of this agenda.

There is a risk, given this complex mix, that Tanzania’s policymakers may learn the wrong lessons from his presidency, leading back to the flawed model existing before.

Significantly, neither Magufuli nor his predecessors managed to achieve more inclusive growth. For this reason poverty levels have remained stubbornly high.

The pandemic and beyond

One immediate concern is what steps Hassan will take on the pandemic, and whether she will change direction.

Whatever she does, the health emergency and associated economic crisis will likely define her presidency. It could indeed define the economic trajectory of the African region in years to come.

Both Kikwete and Magufuli ruled through an economic boom period. Commodity prices were high and access to international finance was fairly easy. This gave them latitude to choose between various development approaches.

If Tanzania reverts to the status quo of the Kikwete years, the risk is a reemergence of rent-seeking but without the same highly favourable economic growth conditions. Indeed, as external conditions worsen, Hassan may find her options far more limited.The Conversation

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Continue Reading

Trending