Although I have driven through it countless times, I have never actually stopped in Lavie for more than 10 minutes…yesterday morning Jules picked me up and, camera in hand, we went to take pictures of his clients for Kiva postings. As soon as I picked up a bit of Kiva work again (unofficially of course, in my personal capacity) the frustrated observations came rolling back, even more starkly in one of the poorest villages I have seen yet in Togo.
Jules’ work as Chef of the Lavie caisse, of whichhe is incredibly proud, centers around providing tiny loans in the villages between Kpalimé and Adéta – Kpimé-Seva, known for its spectacular cascade, Lavie itself, where old men lounge under an enormous mango tree and petit-commerce somehow manages to eke out some meager existence and Akata, a sandy village that I swear has as many goats as it does people, all roaming about aimlessly…Jules beams when he shouts backwind to me on his moto, “Ici, c’est mon travail! Ils m’ont besoin!” (Here, this is my work! They need me!)
These are the bona fide African poor. In these villages a trip to Kpalimé is an annual and costly excursion…whose inhabitants sometimes never leave their dusty compounds and dismal mango stands except to forage in the bush for firewood, or to fill silver bowls with water at the pump and slowly slosh it back to their yards. Thus far, these villages are the only place in Togo that I felt a bit discouraged for these people. It was mostly in their reaction to me…the children were a more delighted, yovo-shreiking, giggling bunch than I have ever encountered…they literally followed me around the village in an ecstatic gaggle of jumbled ewe and toothy grins, squealing yovo! yovo! yovo! yovo! in unison until an old man (the most feared and revered member of these traditional communities) austerely cut off their parade and they tore themselves away from me in a somewhat-bashful-somewhat-frustrated retreat. While I was happy to snap their photo like a good yovo and wave and smile back at them, the fact that the only white people they ever see are those that speed by them in a commotion of dust and loud honking on their way to the next “tourist attraction” is incredibly sad. Everyone’s smiles were as wide and sincere as ever, but the lack of economic opportunity and stagnancy of their poverty was completely devastating…
There are exceptions of course. There are those that make the weekly trek into Kpalimé or Adéta to hawk goods at the marché rather than doze by the side of the road in hope that the occasional passerby might want to buy a tiny sack of arachides for 100CFA. There is also a man who has created a palm-roofed “factory” with 5 apprentices that, with their hands and bare feet, weave unique pagnes out of coarse thread (their weaving contraptions are fascinating.) But for the most part, these rural villages are static, sluggish and often forgotten. Their inhabitants are the poorest of the poor and, ironically but not surprisingly, are least able to benefit from microcredit – Kiva credit? Forget about it.
FECECAV has a tiny office in Lavie, an outpost of CECAV Avenir, with 2 employees, 2 rooms, 2 fans, and Jules at its helm. He is one of the most organized and proactive branch managers I have seen in action here and regrettably works on a computer that is so old and slow it can’t connect to a digital camera and a keyboard that is more often than not out of commission. As it is one of the smaller caisses, sort of by default and as a result of limited resources (not that I am justifying this by any means,) FECECAV doesn’t see upgrading his equipment as a priority. CECAV Avenir-Lavie does not generate as much revenue as other branches because of its own small size and, more importantly, the small size of its loans, which obviously yield less interest.
The petits crédits disbursed by CECAV Avenir-Lavie are a consequence of the type of people taking out these loans…the poorest clients who embody the real, intended impact of microfinance – a true MICRO loan, a starting point of a credit of $50 or less, for a client with everything to lose and no where to begin, destined to succeed little by little by little. I was struck by the genuine character of microfinance in Jules’ villages again and again, as he introduced me to clients who started out with loans as small as 10,000CFA ($25) and, after successfully paying it back, have now taken out $50 loans.
Tragically, these loans are the least desirable and profitable for an MFI, as it takes 50 of these miniature loans to accrue the same amount of interest as 2-3 larger loans – which would be given to someone with a larger capital guarantee or entrepreneurial experience. But don’t we have a social mission to try to also reach the poorest of the working poor? At the same time, how can it be worth it to an overstretched MFI working in a developing country to support clients that yield less of a profit in the short term? I see all sides of the equation and am unconvinced of a moral reconciliation of, on one hand, the immediacy of needs, cash-flow and entrepreneurship, and on the other, the long-term ethical benefits of exhaustedly providing tiny loans to the most desperate of the poor.
Additionally, and this is the point that upsets me, these loans are destined never to appear on the Kiva site. While FECECAV can sometimes justify privileging higher-interest loans, rich Americans cannot…
A major flaw in Kiva’s methodology is that they encourage (not necessarily intentionally) MFI to pass over these authentic micro-credits, because a) it is far too much work to post that many loans on the site (the current workload is painful enough) and b) the 0% interest rate will bring a larger monetary benefit to the MFI on a big loan. While financially this is a good thing for the MFI, it misses the ethical point of reaching the poorest of the poor. Which is Kiva aiming for? If it is the former, the social mission is greatly diminished – why not just give loans directly to the MFI, rather than make them do all of this work chasing down clients, taking photos, writing descriptions, and buying internet time? If you really want to give people a chance to “loan to the working poor,” you must make it possible to reach ALL of the working poor, the POOREST of the working poor, not just those that are most convenient…
I thought about whether it is ok to say that these results come about simply “by default” or can be seen as “unintended consequences…” In my opinion, this is insupportable – if you’re going to do something, do it right. While well intentioned, yet another attempt at eradicating poverty misses the most dire candidates (and in this case, encourages FECECAV to overlook them as well…I saw this with my own eyes when I told Daniel that I wanted to post ten 25,000CFA loans from Lavie. He waved me away saying it wasn’t worth it. After much persuasion he allowed me to do it, but 2 hours and 3,000CFA of internet time later, we had entered 10 new loans and hadn’t made a dent in the monthly limit…)
Unfortunately, the Kiva policies and processes that I tried to train people on in my first month here (when I was officially working as a fellow) have all but dissipated…it is incredibly difficult to maintain procedures and organized processes here, as a result of the constant need for improvisation. Kiva work becomes an even mightier task every time there is unreliable electricity and internet, a client isn’t available for a photograph because their uncle died and they are in Lomé for the week (let alone the fact that the loan officer took the time and energy to research his dossier to make sure it is in accord with nit-picky policies, and to go find the client in the first place – this is not as easy as you might think,) or a certain computer or won’t read a particular USB key or digital camera. The inventiveness and flexibility with technological equipment and information sharing I see here on a daily basis blows my mind. It’s the reality, it’s the only thing that works right now and it makes Kiva’s meticulous policies and procedures seem utterly absurd on the ground.
The thing that does seem to be working is the spreadsheet I made with all of the required information for a Kiva posting. It is very simple, can be filled out on the computer or by hand and encourages the loan officers to sit down with the photos they have taken as well as the dossiers for those clients and fill it out, simultaneously verifying the information. There is a box to list the number of the photo from the camera itself, in order to identify the client here in Kpalimé if the individual branches cannot download and rename the photos themselves. The process of downloading and renaming photos and bringing them to Kpalimé along with word documents of client dossiers generated directly from PERFECT is a long way off…that formula is truly another ball game and, while it is a fantastic and sustainable vision, relies too much on technology and a level of “orderliness” that just does not exist here. For the moment (until we bring them solar energy!!) if FECECAV can use the simplified documents and abridged version of the process that I have emphasized and re-emphasized and re-emphasized, to generate $31,000 from the site every month, I think we will all be happy.
I do worry about FECECAV’s success with Kiva in my absence…as much as I have tried to be hands off this month, I have largely managed the information gathering process, delegated business-description-writing tasks, re-sized photos and even helped with a few postings. I waited until about the 5th of the month to see if anyone was going to jumpstart the process for May and, when no one did, I got the ball rolling. If I hadn’t, there is a chance that they may have lost out this month, which is by far the worst outcome and I could never live with myself if, in the name of “independence and sustainability,” I didn’t help out. However, what is going to happen for the rest of the summer when I am not here?
Early on, it became apparent that there is no individual here in Kpalimé that can be solely responsible for managing and carrying out Kiva work – there is just no one with that kind of time. I have decided that I am going to continue to help them for the next few months from afar, to ease the transition into autonomous Kiva-ing. I can’t leave them in the lurch and will try to continue to remind Daniel at the end of each month to get people collecting info for the next month and am happy to also personally post some loans with my speedy internet connection in the States. This is what friends and partners are for, and I maintain my mission to help FECECAV in whatever capacity I can.
* * *
Later in the afternoon I had a rendezvous with the director of an NGO (who spotted me at FECECAV one day and asked to chat) whose insurmountable mission is to orient the mentality of Togo’s youth towards the idea that democracy and transparency, peace and equality, and education are fundamental human rights, indigenous to Africa, that must be restored. His intentions are honorable, and after initially balking at his idealism (shocking I know, coming from me of all people) I was won over by his ingenuity and optimism. He organizes “training camps” for Togolese youth to discuss, impart and educate on the values his NGO promotes. The first two camps were funded by a private Togolese benefactor. The third, based around the theme of “Good Citizenship,” is only partially funded and he obviously was hoping that I could help him out. I explained that I am starting my own project and am really stretched to the fundraising limit right now, but that I would try to find some contacts for him.
Every day another man asks me with pleading eyes if I can find someone in my country to sponsor his daughters. Every day another of my friends in Kpalimé suggests some scheme to export mangos or peanuts to sell at their inflated price in New York. With all of my heart and capacity, I want to help everyone here and it is hard to realize that one person can’t do it all, no matter how much hope rests on me. Eventually that will kill me…however, there is no reason I can’t occasionally help raise $1000 for a particularly impressive cause, send packages of clothes and toys a few times a year to kids in Kpalimé, help FECECAV when they need help with Kiva and launch SunPower Afrique…all at the same time…right?
Jules’ work as Chef of the Lavie caisse, of whichhe is incredibly proud, centers around providing tiny loans in the villages between Kpalimé and Adéta – Kpimé-Seva, known for its spectacular cascade, Lavie itself, where old men lounge under an enormous mango tree and petit-commerce somehow manages to eke out some meager existence and Akata, a sandy village that I swear has as many goats as it does people, all roaming about aimlessly…Jules beams when he shouts backwind to me on his moto, “Ici, c’est mon travail! Ils m’ont besoin!” (Here, this is my work! They need me!)
These are the bona fide African poor. In these villages a trip to Kpalimé is an annual and costly excursion…whose inhabitants sometimes never leave their dusty compounds and dismal mango stands except to forage in the bush for firewood, or to fill silver bowls with water at the pump and slowly slosh it back to their yards. Thus far, these villages are the only place in Togo that I felt a bit discouraged for these people. It was mostly in their reaction to me…the children were a more delighted, yovo-shreiking, giggling bunch than I have ever encountered…they literally followed me around the village in an ecstatic gaggle of jumbled ewe and toothy grins, squealing yovo! yovo! yovo! yovo! in unison until an old man (the most feared and revered member of these traditional communities) austerely cut off their parade and they tore themselves away from me in a somewhat-bashful-somewhat-frustrated retreat. While I was happy to snap their photo like a good yovo and wave and smile back at them, the fact that the only white people they ever see are those that speed by them in a commotion of dust and loud honking on their way to the next “tourist attraction” is incredibly sad. Everyone’s smiles were as wide and sincere as ever, but the lack of economic opportunity and stagnancy of their poverty was completely devastating…
There are exceptions of course. There are those that make the weekly trek into Kpalimé or Adéta to hawk goods at the marché rather than doze by the side of the road in hope that the occasional passerby might want to buy a tiny sack of arachides for 100CFA. There is also a man who has created a palm-roofed “factory” with 5 apprentices that, with their hands and bare feet, weave unique pagnes out of coarse thread (their weaving contraptions are fascinating.) But for the most part, these rural villages are static, sluggish and often forgotten. Their inhabitants are the poorest of the poor and, ironically but not surprisingly, are least able to benefit from microcredit – Kiva credit? Forget about it.
FECECAV has a tiny office in Lavie, an outpost of CECAV Avenir, with 2 employees, 2 rooms, 2 fans, and Jules at its helm. He is one of the most organized and proactive branch managers I have seen in action here and regrettably works on a computer that is so old and slow it can’t connect to a digital camera and a keyboard that is more often than not out of commission. As it is one of the smaller caisses, sort of by default and as a result of limited resources (not that I am justifying this by any means,) FECECAV doesn’t see upgrading his equipment as a priority. CECAV Avenir-Lavie does not generate as much revenue as other branches because of its own small size and, more importantly, the small size of its loans, which obviously yield less interest.
The petits crédits disbursed by CECAV Avenir-Lavie are a consequence of the type of people taking out these loans…the poorest clients who embody the real, intended impact of microfinance – a true MICRO loan, a starting point of a credit of $50 or less, for a client with everything to lose and no where to begin, destined to succeed little by little by little. I was struck by the genuine character of microfinance in Jules’ villages again and again, as he introduced me to clients who started out with loans as small as 10,000CFA ($25) and, after successfully paying it back, have now taken out $50 loans.
Tragically, these loans are the least desirable and profitable for an MFI, as it takes 50 of these miniature loans to accrue the same amount of interest as 2-3 larger loans – which would be given to someone with a larger capital guarantee or entrepreneurial experience. But don’t we have a social mission to try to also reach the poorest of the working poor? At the same time, how can it be worth it to an overstretched MFI working in a developing country to support clients that yield less of a profit in the short term? I see all sides of the equation and am unconvinced of a moral reconciliation of, on one hand, the immediacy of needs, cash-flow and entrepreneurship, and on the other, the long-term ethical benefits of exhaustedly providing tiny loans to the most desperate of the poor.
Additionally, and this is the point that upsets me, these loans are destined never to appear on the Kiva site. While FECECAV can sometimes justify privileging higher-interest loans, rich Americans cannot…
A major flaw in Kiva’s methodology is that they encourage (not necessarily intentionally) MFI to pass over these authentic micro-credits, because a) it is far too much work to post that many loans on the site (the current workload is painful enough) and b) the 0% interest rate will bring a larger monetary benefit to the MFI on a big loan. While financially this is a good thing for the MFI, it misses the ethical point of reaching the poorest of the poor. Which is Kiva aiming for? If it is the former, the social mission is greatly diminished – why not just give loans directly to the MFI, rather than make them do all of this work chasing down clients, taking photos, writing descriptions, and buying internet time? If you really want to give people a chance to “loan to the working poor,” you must make it possible to reach ALL of the working poor, the POOREST of the working poor, not just those that are most convenient…
I thought about whether it is ok to say that these results come about simply “by default” or can be seen as “unintended consequences…” In my opinion, this is insupportable – if you’re going to do something, do it right. While well intentioned, yet another attempt at eradicating poverty misses the most dire candidates (and in this case, encourages FECECAV to overlook them as well…I saw this with my own eyes when I told Daniel that I wanted to post ten 25,000CFA loans from Lavie. He waved me away saying it wasn’t worth it. After much persuasion he allowed me to do it, but 2 hours and 3,000CFA of internet time later, we had entered 10 new loans and hadn’t made a dent in the monthly limit…)
Unfortunately, the Kiva policies and processes that I tried to train people on in my first month here (when I was officially working as a fellow) have all but dissipated…it is incredibly difficult to maintain procedures and organized processes here, as a result of the constant need for improvisation. Kiva work becomes an even mightier task every time there is unreliable electricity and internet, a client isn’t available for a photograph because their uncle died and they are in Lomé for the week (let alone the fact that the loan officer took the time and energy to research his dossier to make sure it is in accord with nit-picky policies, and to go find the client in the first place – this is not as easy as you might think,) or a certain computer or won’t read a particular USB key or digital camera. The inventiveness and flexibility with technological equipment and information sharing I see here on a daily basis blows my mind. It’s the reality, it’s the only thing that works right now and it makes Kiva’s meticulous policies and procedures seem utterly absurd on the ground.
The thing that does seem to be working is the spreadsheet I made with all of the required information for a Kiva posting. It is very simple, can be filled out on the computer or by hand and encourages the loan officers to sit down with the photos they have taken as well as the dossiers for those clients and fill it out, simultaneously verifying the information. There is a box to list the number of the photo from the camera itself, in order to identify the client here in Kpalimé if the individual branches cannot download and rename the photos themselves. The process of downloading and renaming photos and bringing them to Kpalimé along with word documents of client dossiers generated directly from PERFECT is a long way off…that formula is truly another ball game and, while it is a fantastic and sustainable vision, relies too much on technology and a level of “orderliness” that just does not exist here. For the moment (until we bring them solar energy!!) if FECECAV can use the simplified documents and abridged version of the process that I have emphasized and re-emphasized and re-emphasized, to generate $31,000 from the site every month, I think we will all be happy.
I do worry about FECECAV’s success with Kiva in my absence…as much as I have tried to be hands off this month, I have largely managed the information gathering process, delegated business-description-writing tasks, re-sized photos and even helped with a few postings. I waited until about the 5th of the month to see if anyone was going to jumpstart the process for May and, when no one did, I got the ball rolling. If I hadn’t, there is a chance that they may have lost out this month, which is by far the worst outcome and I could never live with myself if, in the name of “independence and sustainability,” I didn’t help out. However, what is going to happen for the rest of the summer when I am not here?
Early on, it became apparent that there is no individual here in Kpalimé that can be solely responsible for managing and carrying out Kiva work – there is just no one with that kind of time. I have decided that I am going to continue to help them for the next few months from afar, to ease the transition into autonomous Kiva-ing. I can’t leave them in the lurch and will try to continue to remind Daniel at the end of each month to get people collecting info for the next month and am happy to also personally post some loans with my speedy internet connection in the States. This is what friends and partners are for, and I maintain my mission to help FECECAV in whatever capacity I can.
* * *
Later in the afternoon I had a rendezvous with the director of an NGO (who spotted me at FECECAV one day and asked to chat) whose insurmountable mission is to orient the mentality of Togo’s youth towards the idea that democracy and transparency, peace and equality, and education are fundamental human rights, indigenous to Africa, that must be restored. His intentions are honorable, and after initially balking at his idealism (shocking I know, coming from me of all people) I was won over by his ingenuity and optimism. He organizes “training camps” for Togolese youth to discuss, impart and educate on the values his NGO promotes. The first two camps were funded by a private Togolese benefactor. The third, based around the theme of “Good Citizenship,” is only partially funded and he obviously was hoping that I could help him out. I explained that I am starting my own project and am really stretched to the fundraising limit right now, but that I would try to find some contacts for him.
Every day another man asks me with pleading eyes if I can find someone in my country to sponsor his daughters. Every day another of my friends in Kpalimé suggests some scheme to export mangos or peanuts to sell at their inflated price in New York. With all of my heart and capacity, I want to help everyone here and it is hard to realize that one person can’t do it all, no matter how much hope rests on me. Eventually that will kill me…however, there is no reason I can’t occasionally help raise $1000 for a particularly impressive cause, send packages of clothes and toys a few times a year to kids in Kpalimé, help FECECAV when they need help with Kiva and launch SunPower Afrique…all at the same time…right?
