Poor? Hungry? Let's talk about Equality.

My alarm rings at 6am and, like any self-respecting NGO worker who is always on the clock, I snooze for the next 30 minutes planning in the deep recesses of my mind how the day ahead will pan out. Today was the day. The day to head out into the hinterland and deliver out concepts of Gender (definitions/ stereotypes/clichés). Our team assembled, I was joined by Suresh, CSR's driver/entertainer, someone with a deep understanding of the needs of rural Indians who is always willing and ready to share his views. To round out our team was Vikram, our webmaster/gifted Athenian orator, hailing from Haryana, a state infamous for gender-based violence, and a living example of how one can change mindsets.

We were on our way to Moradabad (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moradabad ), a city which retains a proud brass industry heritage as one of the country's largest exporters of brass handicrafts. As reported by the latest census, literacy rates are around 70% in men and 60% in women (rather high compared to the rest of Uttar Pradesh ), the sex ratio is 908 women per 1000 men. Altogether I went into this latest round of gender trainings with a positive and optimistic viewpoint of the city and its people, and assumed that our Gender Trainings would run smoothly. Basic concepts explained to straightforward people.

Upon our arrival in Moradabad we were met by our local partner organization SARD : Society for All Round Development, who piloted us through the city, driving through narrow lanes and what felt like a series of never-ending vegetable markets. We eventually arrived to the point where I had to leave the comforts of our air-conditioned car and face the reality of the blaring summer sun as I meandered through lanes, which just happened to be the exact size of my shoulder span.

The 500 meter walk was surely not intended for anyone with a sensitive olfactory system or with particularly high standards of hygiene. The small distance was dotted with twenty butcher stalls casual about waste disposal to say the least selecting the little drainage canals outside their shops while the heat and humidity ensured the flesh remains were colonized upon arrival. Finally, after ducking and diving my way through the lane I arrived at the training venue. I was relieved and tired. Damping down my sweaty brow, I looked up and realized that I was at the local madrasa. As I shook my head and stepped in, there was a power cut. Ominous you say?

Immediately upon entering the room, I noticed a pile of Qurans stacked high in the corner and a blackboard with sinuous Arabic lettering. The power cut on arrival meant no electricity leaving us in complete darkness in the room with the only source of light and ventilation being the little door through which I entered. Thankfully, the power cut did not seem to dissuade any of our participants and the room slowly filled up with a very diverse group ranging from dewy-eyed ten-year old boys to seventy-year old ‘maulanas' with many years experience as teachers of Islam.  I soon looked up and our little 20 sq meter room was filled to capacity with over seventy people with one door and no electricity.

When preparing to speak in front of large crowds there are only so many variables you can take into consideration. Did I know there was going to be a power cut? No. So I pressed on with my introduction to the group while beads of sweat trickled down my forehead leaving me after 10 minutes of cursory remarks in a pool of my own sweat. Setting the physical difficulties aside, we delved into the topic of 'Gender'.  I must admit that the group was very attentive and participated with great enthusiasm. We conducted a healthy discussion filled with smiles, laughter and agreement that there are different opportunities and expectations which come with being a man or woman and that these parameters are created, established and prolonged by all members of society. However, when the discussion turned to the topic of ‘Equality' the whole group suddenly turned silent craning their necks towards the elders sitting at the back, ‘the community elders', the ones with the final say. I had just been introduced to the judges of Moradabad's very own Kangaroo Court. 

You could have heard a pin drop in those first few minutes. The shock over the concept of gender equality was enough to drive these boys and men stone cold silent. The elders were gracious enough to smile, enquire after my name but then ordered me to continue.  When a trainer loses his authority it’s hard to conduct a training, however I made a light-hearted joke at the elders and did my best to continue. The training atmosphere had surely turned hostile but often one needs to make a point. So I continued on the topic of equality putting a simple question to the group: "What did they think about women having a job". Again a series of hushed conversations, silences and murmurs ensued when finally a young boy aged around sixteen answered, "Sir my Quran says women should always be dressed from head to toe otherwise it is a sin, since most jobs nowadays require them to wear western clothes they can’t do those jobs."  

I was about to involve others in the discussion when one of the elders sitting at the back interjected and warned me that "You should watch what you say, you are in a room where we teach our kids about Islam, a word against the Quran and you won’t leave this training on your own two feet". Shocked and dismayed, I thought to myself "Wow, this hundred-year old bloke half my size, actually threatened me". So I used the finest and only weapon available to me, humor, to break the ice quoting the famous Bollywood saying ‘Gabbar singh yeh keh gaya, Jo darr gaya wo maar gaya'  (no guts no glory). The group broke into fits of indulgent laughter and congratulated my defensive move with a round of applause. Realizing we had all reached our boundaries of tolerance both mentally and physically for the day I concluded the training.

Afterwards, our host organization was kind enough to serve us a generous spread of cold drinks and snacks while we exchanged stories of our experiences from a truly challenging day. I decided to take a stroll back to where I had left my normality. Walking back through the narrow path I was overwhelmed by a sense of hypocrisy. The group of men I had just spoken to had never experienced equality, did not know of rights because they had never exercised their own and live in an India where government provisions are a myth.  Their battles are for survival, their worries for how to feed their families and the only glimmer of hope they have in this battle, which they will eventually lose, is religion.

All the big words used in proposals sent to UN agencies are good and great for those who are fortunate enough to live in the comfort of air conditioned conference halls with purified/ ozonified/ reverse osmosis-treated bottled water. But for the majority of my country these so-called 'necessities' bear no meaning as their struggle is for survival not for class not for justice but the basic instinct to stay alive. As a result they will align themselves with anyone who shares, ensures and prioritizes that same basic ambition.

They did not sit in that crowded, hot room because they cared about Gender. They sat there because they knew they would be provided with a meal at the end. Trainings are a valuable exercise but I sometimes think we forget why some people choose to attend. Vast amounts of money is spent inviting trainers from the big cities and on refreshments for a huge gathered crowd, which is often unaware of the topic but is very aware that they will be served a meal if they stay until the end. It is a common practice I have seen across the NGO sector in India and it is a reality we must come to terms with.

Perhaps we ought to entertain the thought that maybe we need to spend more time and money on what people need and want rather than telling them how to behave. Also, if UN bosses spend more time in the field they would realize that it's not a lack of capacity but lack of opportunity that is the main barrier. They should invest this money in hospitals, schools and nutrition. I realize that 'our bosses' sit in their beautiful offices and are chauffeured from one strategy meeting to another while expecting that a new version of social change will automatically take place every year but the reality on the ground is more complex, nuanced and demanding. This reality is certainly worth looking into.

Poor NGO Types

I work for social change. When I started in this field I was often the butt of my own jokes and did joke about how I was always broke. Somehow it goes with the image, but the more time I spend in India working on civil society projects relating to women's rights, the more I realize how ridiculous it is. Sure we can all conjure up the traditional image of an Indian social worker,  'Khadi ka Kurta pajama', in our minds with a cheap Jhola bag resting on his shoulder and dusty kolapurri chapals on his tired feet. In addition to being obviously poor and hungry. Well I could not disagree more with that image. Yes, I believe in working tirelessly for the needs of others. Yes I believe that we all owe it to ourselves to make sure that our fellow woman and man is well taken after. But no, I do not need to be hungry and poor to help the ones who are. I do not need to live below the poverty line in order to help people who do. Just like I don’t need to turn into a maple tree in order to save one, or a woman to work for women's rights.

I ask you this, why on earth are the people who work for the good of others forbidden from enjoying a comfortable lifestyle? No one would ever question my lifestyle if I made millions by marketing the merits of poisonous products such as Coca Cola or tobacco but the second a social worker drives a car or eats in a nice restaurant she/he is considered to be dishonest. 

Had I been a doctor or a lawyer no one would question my fancy German car, or accurate Swiss watch, fine Italian suits or lavish holidays on some luxurious island resort with a hard to pronounce name.

When I asked Dr Anand Kumar a noted sociologist the same question, he answered "Society accepts preachers who are practitioners, be it Vivekanand, Gandhi, Mother Teresa or Anna Hazare. Socially cautious entrepreneurs like Ratan Tata, Narayan Murti and Azim Prem ji are all highly respected by all strata of society. Social entrepreneurs like Sunita Narayan, Aruna Roy and Vindeshwar Pathak are all examples of women and men who have broken away from the cliché of the impoverished individual working towards social change.”

Kuber Sharma, a modern day social activist, argues that "This doesn't exist in my world. I know that this lifestyle is something I don't survive in. Hence while I am not averse to working in the grassroots and have worked in little villages all over India, as a full-time profession I prefer a cushy Delhi office. No I still don't have an air-conditioned office, but at least I can be myself here. If clothes and gadgets will dictate what I am and how I think, then let people judge me."

Devendra Kumar, a development professional and also one of the first people who told me "I want to make money through doing good" (this was about 10 years back ), when I gave him a ring for this blog post explained that "Social work in India is still considered a voluntary action and not a professional one. This is a major downer for the development sector. The salaries of the social sector need to marginally match the ones of the corporate, then only can one expect quality social activists. We need to look into the development sector as a professional one if we want to bring about large scale sustainable development."

Manish Tiwari, a political journalist, argues that "If one was to create two categories of NGO’s the ones using the funds and the ones stealing the funds, the list of thieves would be miles longer (I could not agree more). This extreme disparity has led to the critical take of society. No one as such is against social entrepreneurship, but everyone is against con artists minting money in the name of philanthropy. 

Dr. Rohit Negi, who teaches Development Studies and also the catalyst behind this blog post, explains that “The origins of this notion are in Gandhian practice. Prior to Gandhi's entry on the Indian political scene, the leadership was largely elite, and they had very little pretensions of reaching out to the masses. Gandhi's message was to live and dress like those on whose behalf one claimed to speak, which is what representation--government or non-government--is essentially about.  Even today, civil society and social workers are viewed through that same lens: they must be incorruptible and lead what the larger society considers a simple life. Because, in part, non-profit also means non-well to do. That someone who is in the development sector, broadly defined, also make good money and live a more-than-decent life attracts allegations of impropriety, and undermines his/her credibility.  For better or worse, I believe this is a fact. There are obvious merits of holding civil society to a tough standard, but then it means that anyone who wishes to be in this arena with a degree of honesty needs to choose between the work and a comfortable life.”

So what happens to me? A guy with a technical degree who believes in viable social change . Do I starve to fit into a cliché ? Or do I battle it out , changing professional norms as I progress ? Or do I give up both and jump back into the corporate sector designing micro chips and selling them to the highest bidder?  

Old is NOT always Gold

28 years on this planet, have been working for the past 10 years, in various fields. Have made a few shifts from hardly paid student jobs, to over paid corporate jobs, and finally to the social sector (let’s not even get into the salary bit of it ) .

When I started working at 17 as a COBOL software developer for a firm which made Income tax calculating software for the ‘rich’ in south Germany. Everyone was highly impressed by the fact that a young Indian boy is helping them out. (For scandal sake I’ll say I was the reason for ‘ Inder statt kinder’ debate which led to MR Jürgen Rüttgers gaining some media mileage )

Now the journey has been amazing since then, and age was always on my side, and the older/wiser/grey hair or totally bald men, did not take me as a threat. Rather I was the rookie they were very happy to give ‘ Gyaan ‘ to. With all honesty I must say I really used to listen in back in the day.

Lately specially when it comes to plan’s of future, methodology to address the youth, what appeals to a nation with the majority of its citizens below the age of 45. I get tsunami’s of arguments always starting with the same tone of “What do you know about this? Back in our day…….” Before I lose my cool, I think to my self, well it’s apparently NOT back in your day, and for sure the ideas applied then were probably NOT good enough.

Now the social sector, like the intelligentsia, has ensure that it is a closed club. Both these club have a code language they speak in, which no body in the ‘real’ world understands. Well here is a BIG middle finger to both these clubs and every one in them, Your knowledge and ideas and work does not matter if it is not known/understood by the common person.

Putting it simply no one gives a fuck about what you did ‘back in the day ‘as its not about you ! & your club ! it’s about how a simple common person steps in for social change , to spread knowledge , in himself , in his environment ,Before global and local , it HAS to be personal .

But then again I have been around for 28 years, whereas you clowns have seen the planet go round for a longer period. Although it’s the quality of time which matter and not quantity !!!