Fallen Heart
It’s hard to describe what’s really like working as an independent volunteer in Tanzania or to explain the role of NGOs here because it is not always so clear.
I realized by now that it’s a lot more complicated than I ever thought. Decades ago, the Tanzanian president lured NGOs to come here and help him create a socialist utopia which some people still referred to as the golden era. Years later, the country is still being helped by many of the non-profit organizations. Instead of using the international support as a lever to leap forward, Tanzanians seem to have become dependent on the NGOs. There is no clear answer if the dependency is self-inflicted or created inadvertently by donors. Sometimes generosity breeds greed and over-reliance. I often wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse for Tanzania to have the donations pouring in like this.
Unfortunately, I was a witness to such dismay. I once helped someone with US$10 for bus fare and emergency but only to turn him into a liar who makes up sad stories to get sympathy money from easy-prey foreigners. He realized that it's a faster way to make money. The poverty or lower income (some of them are not all that poor) has given them a sense of entitlement towards foreigners who are considered better off.
But my biggest appointment was when someone I considered a good and trustworthy friend stole the donation money designated for the Mbulu project. The betrayal felt like a stab in the heart and left me bleeding and bleeding. It was as if someone robbed me when I opened up my home to welcome and help him.
Living in Arusha sometimes was like American soldiers serving in Iraq – You can’t tell foes and friends apart. That feeling really sucked when I wanted only to help the locals and nothing in return.
Were they the NGOs that helped weaken the social value in the Tanzania cities or were they the ones being taken advantage of when they were not careful? When an NGO gave handout without asking anything in return, was it being generous or was it creating dependency and opportunity for abuse?
And I thought all I needed in my backpack were my heart and a plane ticket.
I realized by now that it’s a lot more complicated than I ever thought. Decades ago, the Tanzanian president lured NGOs to come here and help him create a socialist utopia which some people still referred to as the golden era. Years later, the country is still being helped by many of the non-profit organizations. Instead of using the international support as a lever to leap forward, Tanzanians seem to have become dependent on the NGOs. There is no clear answer if the dependency is self-inflicted or created inadvertently by donors. Sometimes generosity breeds greed and over-reliance. I often wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse for Tanzania to have the donations pouring in like this.
Unfortunately, I was a witness to such dismay. I once helped someone with US$10 for bus fare and emergency but only to turn him into a liar who makes up sad stories to get sympathy money from easy-prey foreigners. He realized that it's a faster way to make money. The poverty or lower income (some of them are not all that poor) has given them a sense of entitlement towards foreigners who are considered better off.
But my biggest appointment was when someone I considered a good and trustworthy friend stole the donation money designated for the Mbulu project. The betrayal felt like a stab in the heart and left me bleeding and bleeding. It was as if someone robbed me when I opened up my home to welcome and help him.
Living in Arusha sometimes was like American soldiers serving in Iraq – You can’t tell foes and friends apart. That feeling really sucked when I wanted only to help the locals and nothing in return.
Were they the NGOs that helped weaken the social value in the Tanzania cities or were they the ones being taken advantage of when they were not careful? When an NGO gave handout without asking anything in return, was it being generous or was it creating dependency and opportunity for abuse?
And I thought all I needed in my backpack were my heart and a plane ticket.
posted by Nancy at 12:19 AM
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