Across the Border (August 12, 2006)
Yesterday Eva and I went to Busia (U) to explore the fabric shops in town. I had been told that not only is fabric cheaper in Uganda, but that the quality is a bit nicer and that there was more variety. Whether or not those statements turned out to be true, I found myself amazed by the experience.
The actual crossing of the border, was in itself, bizarre. It involved a lot of guns, bureaucracy, and gates, and it was at the same time both free/open but militarized. It felt like you could easily walk from one side to the other, but you could easily expect to be machine-gunned down as well. I kept wondering if I would make the wrong move, say the wrong thing, or forget to do something on the way. Afterwards it wasn't so bad, and I'm sure as I do it more often it will become easier, but it still took getting used to.
Meanwhile, as we walked through No Man's Land we could see Sofia far in the distance. Sofia is a slum whose population is mostly Ugandan, and it is not claimed by either state. Kenya says that Sofia is clearly not in Kenyan territory, and Uganda makes the same claim. However, the people of Sofia largely say they are Ugandan and want to be afforded access to Ugandan civil society. Right now they have no vote, no government, no infrastructure, no law, no enforcement, and no amenities. The murder rate is high, the HIV/AIDS rate is higher, illiteracy higher still, and smuggling and sex work are the primary forms of employment. No one is beholden to this population, and for the most part Sofians seem to be a people without a country and without citizenship.
I asked Eva if NGOs worked in the area, and she said no, no one dared to work in Sofia. Part of this is undoubtedly because, when the shit hits the fan, there is no one to help you out. If you run into trouble in Sofia, which would not be hard to do, there is no hospital, no police officer, no one, who could help you. Perhaps I'm too naive, but I asked her, wasn't that the point of NGOs to begin with? To work where the government could not - or would not - work? And weren't there international groups or safety nets with which an NGO could align to help provide those emergency services and evacuations and whatnot? Apparently not any who are willing to take a chance on Sofia.
Back in Uganda, things I noticed immediately upon crossing included the relative poverty and poor infrastructure in the area. I had never thought of western Kenya as being particularly affluent compared to eastern Uganda, but it becomes obvious when you walk across. In Busia (K) there are a number of shops and market areas and homes off the main road that look perfectly respectable and nice. In Busia (U) I noticed that the population density seemed lower, there were fewer side streets, and the roads themselves were short or almost non-existent. The roads were wider but ridden with pot holes, and the energy was off for most of the day. Now, blackouts are common in the area, but we asked a hotel owner what had happened to the electricity. Apparently Uganda is rationing its energy on a 24 hour basis.
What does that mean? When I was in Punjab, the state would ration energy in that each block of a town would have a scheduled power outtage for 2-4 hours every day, or for 8 hours once/week. Granted, power went out much more often than that, but there was at least the semblance of a system. In Uganda, the government turns on the power for 24 hours and then turns it off for another 24. So let's think of how this effects your life in very basic terms, right? First, if you use any form of refrigeration (at a hospital or food store, or even at home), it is rendered useless within the first 6 hours of power being off. This means you have to either have an emergency power backup system (i.e. a very well-fueled and sturdy generator), or you empty your fridge every other day and turn people away from necessary items/provisions. Secondly, because people know that power will be out the whole next day, there's a huge spike in energy consumption. I have the feeling that if this were more graduated people would be able to work around it, but because the outtage is extreme, the reaction is extreme. Suddenly you have outtages - even on power-on days - because people are draining the system of all its energy and running every electronic item they need in that short period of time. This policy doesn't allow for a sense of conservation or moderation, and in some ways there can't be when things are set up this way. Finally, I don't know that this rationing system is even saving the government money, and given how much energy is imported from Kenya, it doesn't look like this will even make baby steps towards easing energy-dependence.
Of course this isn't a holistic view of what life is like in Uganda, this is just what it looked like to go from one border town to its twin for a few hours. But it makes me wonder about the larger power relationships between all the different East African countries. It's clear that Kenya is the richest of the 5-6 state consortium, but even then there are so many disparities within Kenya. Further, it makes me wonder how useful all these attempts are to scale localized projects for all of East Africa. Granted, if a project works well in an area that is similar to another it's reasonable to think it may work in place B. That said, when the infrastructure is better, or the corruption standard is different, or the amount of income in the population is different, or their health needs differ, how good are blanket programs after all?
The actual crossing of the border, was in itself, bizarre. It involved a lot of guns, bureaucracy, and gates, and it was at the same time both free/open but militarized. It felt like you could easily walk from one side to the other, but you could easily expect to be machine-gunned down as well. I kept wondering if I would make the wrong move, say the wrong thing, or forget to do something on the way. Afterwards it wasn't so bad, and I'm sure as I do it more often it will become easier, but it still took getting used to.
Meanwhile, as we walked through No Man's Land we could see Sofia far in the distance. Sofia is a slum whose population is mostly Ugandan, and it is not claimed by either state. Kenya says that Sofia is clearly not in Kenyan territory, and Uganda makes the same claim. However, the people of Sofia largely say they are Ugandan and want to be afforded access to Ugandan civil society. Right now they have no vote, no government, no infrastructure, no law, no enforcement, and no amenities. The murder rate is high, the HIV/AIDS rate is higher, illiteracy higher still, and smuggling and sex work are the primary forms of employment. No one is beholden to this population, and for the most part Sofians seem to be a people without a country and without citizenship.
I asked Eva if NGOs worked in the area, and she said no, no one dared to work in Sofia. Part of this is undoubtedly because, when the shit hits the fan, there is no one to help you out. If you run into trouble in Sofia, which would not be hard to do, there is no hospital, no police officer, no one, who could help you. Perhaps I'm too naive, but I asked her, wasn't that the point of NGOs to begin with? To work where the government could not - or would not - work? And weren't there international groups or safety nets with which an NGO could align to help provide those emergency services and evacuations and whatnot? Apparently not any who are willing to take a chance on Sofia.
Back in Uganda, things I noticed immediately upon crossing included the relative poverty and poor infrastructure in the area. I had never thought of western Kenya as being particularly affluent compared to eastern Uganda, but it becomes obvious when you walk across. In Busia (K) there are a number of shops and market areas and homes off the main road that look perfectly respectable and nice. In Busia (U) I noticed that the population density seemed lower, there were fewer side streets, and the roads themselves were short or almost non-existent. The roads were wider but ridden with pot holes, and the energy was off for most of the day. Now, blackouts are common in the area, but we asked a hotel owner what had happened to the electricity. Apparently Uganda is rationing its energy on a 24 hour basis.
What does that mean? When I was in Punjab, the state would ration energy in that each block of a town would have a scheduled power outtage for 2-4 hours every day, or for 8 hours once/week. Granted, power went out much more often than that, but there was at least the semblance of a system. In Uganda, the government turns on the power for 24 hours and then turns it off for another 24. So let's think of how this effects your life in very basic terms, right? First, if you use any form of refrigeration (at a hospital or food store, or even at home), it is rendered useless within the first 6 hours of power being off. This means you have to either have an emergency power backup system (i.e. a very well-fueled and sturdy generator), or you empty your fridge every other day and turn people away from necessary items/provisions. Secondly, because people know that power will be out the whole next day, there's a huge spike in energy consumption. I have the feeling that if this were more graduated people would be able to work around it, but because the outtage is extreme, the reaction is extreme. Suddenly you have outtages - even on power-on days - because people are draining the system of all its energy and running every electronic item they need in that short period of time. This policy doesn't allow for a sense of conservation or moderation, and in some ways there can't be when things are set up this way. Finally, I don't know that this rationing system is even saving the government money, and given how much energy is imported from Kenya, it doesn't look like this will even make baby steps towards easing energy-dependence.
Of course this isn't a holistic view of what life is like in Uganda, this is just what it looked like to go from one border town to its twin for a few hours. But it makes me wonder about the larger power relationships between all the different East African countries. It's clear that Kenya is the richest of the 5-6 state consortium, but even then there are so many disparities within Kenya. Further, it makes me wonder how useful all these attempts are to scale localized projects for all of East Africa. Granted, if a project works well in an area that is similar to another it's reasonable to think it may work in place B. That said, when the infrastructure is better, or the corruption standard is different, or the amount of income in the population is different, or their health needs differ, how good are blanket programs after all?
posted by Camille @ 6:31 AM
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