Innovation vs. the Boring Stuff

Over the last year or so, I’ve encountered a tremendous push for innovation in the fields of development and disaster relief. Organizations big and small are looking for the ideas that will catapult millions of people out of poverty. The next clever gadgets that will cheaply and quickly filter water, prevent malaria, and stop the spread of HIV/AIDS. These ideas are almost by definition just over the horizon – because once an idea has been around for a few months, it’s not that innovative anymore.

And so what happens to those innovative ideas? What happens when the clever creator has received his fellowship grant and begins to work out the tricky details? From what I’ve seen, the funding organizations have moved on to the next ‘innovation’ and left the creator to work out the Boring Stuff on their own. My experience in Africa has pointed to the Boring Truth – 90% of what’s needed is not innovation but ‘capacity building’ – training, logistics, and equipment purchases. Building systems that can scale up to help thousands more people.

Take for example the work my fiancée does in health care. She is deploying an innovative new computer and mobile phone-based system to track and process health claim forms. It promises to reduce overhead and errors, increasing the rate at which health providers are reimbursed by funding agencies such as KFW (the German development bank). And yet the health providers she partners with, while supportive of her new claims system, are more excited by the equipment and training she is giving as part of the research. They’re excited about the opportunity to purchase laptops, check email, and learn how to track patients on Excel. And they want to do it on laptops, not smart-phones, as are being so heavily touted in development circles. They want to do things like we do in developed countries. Given the option, they’re taking the boring stuff before the innovative.

To a large extent I’ve found the same to be true in the work I do with water. The basic work – building gravity flow systems – has been done since the Romans! It’s not exactly cutting-edge technology. But the great improvements are coming from the Boring Stuff – GPS devices to mark pipe and tank locations. Creating a database to manage the hunt for new sources of water. These behind the scenes changes are making it much easier to build and manage a water system.

But unfortunately the Boring Stuff isn’t sexy enough to get funding. The truth is, nobody wants to fund it because they can’t put their names on it. The funding organizations can’t brag to their peers and donors about the Boring Stuff - “look we gave $10,000 to train X health practitioners on how to enter and process data!” But when they put out $10,000 to fund the Next Big Thing, out come the press, book agents, and dollars.

This trend points to a glaring fact – we in the developed world are more interested in creating a system that makes us feel good rather than creating a system that provides the resources people in the developing world need to succeed. And I will be the first to confess of this – I want to feel good about myself just as much as anyone else.

Now, all this is not to say that innovation is inherently bad – far from it. It is only to say that innovation should not be the absolute focus, or even the primary focus. We need to support the Boring Stuff, the physical and educational infrastructure that will be the foundation on which the vast majority of people are lifted out of poverty.


Elsewhere, Blood & Milk has argued along the same lines…

Don't these people want clean water? (Part 2)

This morning I met with the head water engineer at the Millennium Villages Project in Ruhiira, Uganda. The MVP in Ruhiira is within a few kilometers of a previous ACTS project. In 2009 the community protected a spring that we are now considering for use in a new project. I dropped by the offices to introduce myself and see if we might collaborate with MVP.

The meeting was very encouraging; the engineer was excited to partner with a local NGO given our long history in the area and our existing relationship with the communities. And I was excited to find a talented Ugandan engineer with some new ideas about how to implement a GFS project. In my last post I lamented how difficult it is to make a project sustainable. This engineer suggested a different method gaining popularity in Uganda: private operators.

Over the years, GFS implementers have tried different ways to maintain the system after construction. In the past little thought was given to maintenance, the assumption being that the users would naturally have an interest in maintaining the system themselves, and would find the money and skill to do so. The number of broken systems littering Uganda speaks otherwise. More recently, implementers have created "tap stand" committees to perform operation and maintenance (O&M). These committees are formed of elected individuals from the community, and their function is to collect fees and perform maintenance. The engineer I spoke to today made a good point, one that I am now discovering: these committees often fade away after the construction is finished. Now, this is less of an issue for ACTS because it maintains a presence in the area for years - it's not going anywhere, and is therefore able to return to communities and encourage them to continue their commitment. However, this is not done without difficulty. But for most implementers, the system breaks down within a few years of completion. Therefore, some are now willing to license management of the system to a private operator. There are several advantages to this approach:

• Uptime is in the operator's interest: every inoperative tap means lost revenue. The operator therefore has an interest in a high level of maintenance.
• Smaller individual payments: instead of having a committee come door-to-door looking for 1,000 UGX every month, the operator can put locks on each tap, and then charge for every jerry can of water. The charge might be 40-50 UGX. The smaller payment makes a huge difference because of the short-term mentality people have here. It's difficult to save money for any period of time, even a month. Paying 50 UGX a time would likely be much preferable than a 1,000 UGX lump sum.

What are the drawbacks? I can think of a few:

• Who do you license? Choosing an operator would likely be a very political decision. What qualifications should they have? What criteria would disqualify them? How do you keep the selection process transparent and fair?
• Land issues: in ACTS projects, we ask the community to donate all land for tanks, pipes, and tap-stands. We do this because the system is for the community's benefit. But if now someone stands to make money, I don't think landowners would simply give away their land. And if they don't, then the construction costs could be much higher. Where would this extra money come from? Would funding agencies foot the extra cost, or would it be passed along to the community in the form of user fees? (user fees typically only cover operation costs, with the construction costs coming from a funding agency such as CIDA).
• Community consent: would communities agree to pay a private operator? Would they trust them? Tap-stand committees have the advantage of being composed of people from the community, whom users presumably know and trust.

Personally, I think the advantage to using a private operator could be great. Any task that can be reasonably performed by the private sector likely has a greater chance for long-term sustainability because it is in the operator's financial interest.

Don't these people want clean water?

I frequently find it difficult to understand a Ugandan's motivations. Some behaviors are just odd. Like when four people are killed in a rural village for plotting to steal some bicycles. Like when a woman is assaulted for stealing a few watermelons. And like when half of Kampala riots because the ceremonial king isn't allowed to visit a particular district.

I chalk up the confusion I have from these news pieces to a lack of information. But I'm also confused by the way people behave in our project areas, where I have information, and where I understand what's going on a little bit better. I've spoken previously about how hard it is to get people to dig, even when they stand to gain so much. Turns out it's also difficult to get people to pay for what they've got.

Now you can call me captain obvious - of course people don't like to pay money! Especially the poor, who have little to begin with. But what baffles me is that in this case they need to pay very little, and receive so much in return. The situation is this: the beneficiaries of a gravity-flow water project agreed to pay 1,000 UGX (~ $0.50) per family per month to use a water tap, which is within a maximum of 500 meters of their home. The money goes towards system maintenance, replacing pipe, taps or cement that breaks down. Small as they are, these contributions are necessary to keep the system running. Because as simple as a gravity-flow system is, it will break down if not maintained.

But at one project site, few people are paying, and it's starting to show. Many of the taps are no longer functioning. The fix is cheap and simple, but there's no money to buy spare parts. So women and children, who used to fetch water close by, now walk to the next functioning tap, or to another source of water (which likely isn't clean). Why do they put up with such hardship rather than shell out the $0.50? I mean, even if you make just $1 per day, you only need to pay 1.7% of a month's wages to provide clean water to your family. What gives?

Speaking with friends and colleagues, their theories seem to break down into four catagories:

• They don't have the money. In rural areas many people have almost no money at all. Families eke out a living, feeding themselves with what they grow. In such a situation every shilling is precious. They manage to survive, but are completely removed from a formal, cash-based economy.
  
• They'd rather spend it on beer. Essentially this implies that priorities are elsewhere. Alcoholism is a rampant problem (I recently had to deal with a drunk village chief - not fun), and men are usually in control of the money. And since men control the money, they don't really care if the women or children have to go fetch water.
  
• They don't think the money does anything. Even when paying, the system will break down. The money goes to repairing it when it does, not necessarily in preventing failure. So users may not realize that their money is going to repairs, so they don't pay because even if they do, things will break.
• They don't like taxes. Because the fees for the water system resemble a tax, they refuse to pay. Taxes here are frequently squandered by corruption, and no one wants to give up what little money they have to fatten someone else's wallet.

Whatever theory is true, the end result is the same: system maintenance is a problem. The solution seems so simple, but so difficult to achieve. Don't they want clean water?

No Divining Rod Necessary

"This is a road?"

Wedged between two small plots of land and jumping steeply up the hill, it was indeed a road, and I had to get my truck up it. My coworker Asaf stepped out of the truck, engaged the four wheel drive, and we continued on our way. Farther down the road, a beautiful green valley stretched to our left, beginning precariously close to the wheels of our vehicle.

It's amazing to me how green this part of Uganda is, and yet how hard it is to find water springs. The land is green and lush, and yet when we finally find a spring, it trickles out of the ground. We spend days driving around, from one low flow source to the next. And without fail, every source is described as "big" by locals. "How big?" I ask. "Big", the invariable answer. I'm becoming something of a skeptic. Trying to quantify relative differences is difficult - one of the classic cultural disparities between someone like me from "the West" and Africans.

I have been searching for sources for the last few weeks in hope of finding enough water for a new gravity flow project. To secure funding, we need to demonstrate a flow of at least 3 liters/second, or 48 gallons per minute. That's a lot of water, which makes it difficult to find a source strong enough. And it also means I do a lot of driving, each day hoping I'm doing to get lucky.

At each source we perform two tasks. First we measure the flow of the source by timing how long it takes to fill a jerry can (see the photo above). Secondly, we collect a sample of water to test for contaminants. We only consider clean sources for projects because incorporating water filtration into the system reduces the likelihood the system will be maintained in the future. Unfortunately, it also means that we limit the potential number of sources we can use for a new project.

Once we've found a promising source, I will be putting together a project proposal with preliminary engineering. Given the amount of water required, such a project would likely help around 10,000. Motivation enough to keep going out each day in hope of finding the big one.

Teka Teka

In Runyanchole, the language of southwest Uganda, "teka teka" means "to think". So, in these waning hours of the first decade of the 21st century (profound, huh?), I thought I'd give some thoughts about my first nine months in Africa.

• Finding your place is hard - coming to Africa as an individual was undoubtedly the right thing for me to do, but it's been hard. I came with an unclear idea of my role or organization, and it's taken some work to be assertive in making a place for myself. I'm now doing some great work for ACTS, sharing in the design work for a new GFS project, creating new water testing equipment, and soon writing proposals and preliminary engineering for new projects. As with most pursuits in life, no one has guided me by the hand. This has been a tremendous lesson in self-motivation and determination.
  
  
• Does the world need more NGO's? Last week I had an encounter with one of the many characters you'll find in Africa, the old male ex-pat. Married to a Ugandan woman, he was recently retired from work with the European Union and now helping his wife to run a small guest farm in western Uganda. After dinner, he came over to our table and whispered in conspiratorial tones about the underside of politics in Uganda, which is wicked indeed (and of course it is, or it wouldn't make a good story!). But the thrust of his discursive soliloquy was that in the last 15 years the number of NGO's has exploded across Uganda. Bloated, bureaucratic and unresponsive, he railed against the huge overhead they spend on ex-pat staff, wasting most of the donor's money.  And the government plays along, all to happy to relinquish responsibility for tasks it would normally handle in a well functioning state. Indeed, they also crowd out opportunities for the private sector. In fact, a friend of mine now just finishing their first year of university has told me of his great desire to work for an NGO, because that's where the best opportunities are. So, does the world need more NGO's? A hyperbolic and impossible question to answer in so short a space, but I'll say at least this - all effort should be put into finding private sector solutions to issues before resorting to the creation of another NGO.
  
  
• The world is, uh, complicated - every action you take affects others in potentially a myriad of ways. This is especially true when you enter into a vulnerable environment in an effort to help. Bottom line is, think, and think twice before setting up new projects to help people. You may end up doing more harm than good.
  
  
• Matoke, matoke! Ugandans LOVE steamed matoke. They love posho, and they love g-nuts. I mean, they love this stuff. I find it entirely pleasant, but I admit I'm putting together an epic list of restaurants to visit once I get back to Berkeley.
  
  
• Goma is a strange place  - This city on the eastern edge of Congo, clutching the north shore of lake Kivu, is a study in constrasts. It's home to legions of mzungus, who work for an ABC list of NGO's, or the UN (MONUC). There's parties, bars, and fantastic restaurants. The incredible barricaded homes along the lake are just beautiful. In fact, Mobutu's (now Kabila's) notorious vacation villa is just a few hundred meters away from HEAL Africa's Maji Matulivu. And yet in those meters between, the destitute children of Goma que up on the lake shore to carry water in 5 gallon jerry cans, often many kilometers to their homes. The wooden shack is by far the most common home in the city. Because of the huge foreign presence, prices for basic items have spiraled up, putting them out of reach for ordinary people.
  
  
• Corruption is killing potential - this isn't anything new to the cynics out there, but it's particularly depressing to see it up close. In Uganda especially, parents put a huge emphasis on education, sometimes going into crippling debt to pay school fees. And yet the hope of their children find a job is slim, because the managers in charge of hiring are looking for a 5 million shilling bribe ($2,500).
  
  
• Music! A quick list of some of the music I've find during my time here: Maisha Soul (Congo), Khadja Nin (Burundi), Afrigo (Uganda), Yo-Malé (Senegal), Moses (Uganda). I was blown away by the street music you hear in the villages of eastern Congo on a Sunday afternoon.
  
  
• My New Year's resolution - the opportunity to be here and have the freedom to learn and participate as I wish has been a huge blessing to me. Occasionally I remember to really absorb that fact, but it slips away so easily. In 2010 I resolve to be more thankful for the people and groups I've worked with in Uganda and Congo. I don't want to look back with regret when I get home, wishing I'd appreciated more the chance I'd been given.

Heri za Mwaka Mpya!

Compulsory Community Involvement

Most development projects these days rightfully focus on community involvement, in other words, getting beneficiaries to contribute to the success of a project. This fosters a sense of ownership, which should allow whatever is being done to last far after the implementing organization has left. I've seen many failed water systems here in Uganda, most likely done in because the local community had no stake in the construction or implementation process.

The ACTS GFS project in Bwesumbu is following the current thinking by working hard to include the local communities that will benefit. There are 5 "cells", comprising about 8,000 people. One Ugandan staff member is dedicated to meeting with local government and religious leaders to encourage them to moblize their communities to contribute to digging (and there's a lot of digging to be done). While this has gone pretty smoothly on previous ACTS projects, it's proving to be a challenge here.

In fact, on several occassions the local police, in a happy show of their own authority, have set up a road block on the main road that winds through the hills. All travelers are stopped, and those living in the project area have been "encouraged" to get off their bodas or trucks, grab a shovel, and get to digging. And the work sure has sped along on these days.

The police set up a road block to gather workers

But unfortunately, while such tactics are popular here in Africa (the local police captain told me that Africans are "lazy". I nodded politely), they circumvent the entire purpose of community involvement - ownership. If the beneficiaries must be compelled to work, they clearly have not fully understood the benefits of the project. And compulsion fuels resentment.

I suspect this current project is moving slowly because of the sectarian split between the Church of Uganda (Anglican) and the Seventh Day Adventists. Neither wants to work unless it's clear that the other is also. We have therefore worked especially hard then to reach out to local government leaders. Unfortunately, there appears to be a talent gap in the local leadership department, which is hampering our efforts. However, we will be back in force after the new year, ready to redouble our efforts to convince the community about the enormous benefits of the project.

Spreading Light

UPDATE: The solar power manufacturer we used at the second clinic is Barefoot Power.

Recently, I heard a statistic that surprised me - 86% of Uganda is without power (granted, I have no idea where this comes from). While I find this hard to believe, I spend most of my time in Mbarara, which is a pretty well developed town in the southwest. Up in the mountains at the work camp north of Kasese, there is no power for at least 10 miles in any direction.

So whatever the statistic, power is a precious commodity in much of Uganda. And that's especially true when it comes to health care. Medical emergencies don't wait for daylight - some issues have to be resolved immediately. Delivering a baby or performing a C-Secion by the light of a gas lantern is a dangerous task.

Providing light is therefore important, and it is the primary goal of WE CARE solar. WE CARE works with clinics in several African countries to provide a packaged solar solution, allowing for quick installation and ease of use. The package comes with the solar equipment (panels, charge controller, breakers, etc) and a series of lights for use in the clinic (headlamps, overhead lights). It also comes with batteries and a cigarette outlet for using DC power cables (for use in charging mobile phones, for example).

My fiancee is partnering with WE CARE for part of her dissertation research, and so I accompanied her to a small town outside of Ibanda to explain to the clinic what they were receiving, how it should be used, and what they could expect from it. The owner was very happy to participate in my fiancee's study and to utilize the new solar gear. She will be working with the clinic for the next few months to observe how the solar items are used (and of course to conduct her own separate research).

On the way back from Ibanda, we stopped at a second clinic participating in the study. This clinic received a smaller commercial product called the Pawa Pack by Barefoot Power, which comes with some lights and a 5 watt panel. It's quite small, but it will be used only for lighting.