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Father David Garcia, head of national clergy outreach in CRS' U.S. Soutwest office, accepts photo of "Dikidini" SILC group in Pounkouan, Burkina Faso.
Photo provided |
By Father David Garcia
For Today's Catholic
While the world’s attention was riveted on the World Cup and South Africa, I had the great privilege of touring another part of the continent with Catholic Relief Services (CRS). We were a delegation of Hispanic Church leaders from all over the US who were visiting the West African countries of Ghana and Burkina Faso to promote global solidarity among Hispanic Catholics. CRS is about human dignity. It is the official US Catholic agency for humanitarian relief and development throughout the world. Working in over 100 countries it seeks to help people help themselves through programs of micro finance, health care, education, agriculture, water and food.
What impressed me the most were the stories of the people we met who had benefitted from the collaboration and support of CRS and other partners. Each was a very human story of people simply wanting what all of us want in life: a place to call home, food, work that allows us to raise a family in dignity, education for our children and security.
It seems so elementary for those of us born and raised in the developed world. We take so much for granted because it has all been there for us throughout our lives. The majority of the world lives very differently.
I met Nathalie Oudjebou under the shade of a huge mango tree in the rural area of central Burkina Faso, one of the three poorest countries on earth. Half the population lives on $1 a day or less. Nathalie is a mother with three children. She is part of a group called, “Dikidini” which in the local Kassena language means, “let’s try and see.” What she and 23 women and three men were trying was a savings and investment project that helps them access small amounts of credit to engage in revenue generating enterprises to supplement their meager subsistence farming. CRS helps support the group in the program.
Small plots of land support the majority of people here. In times of little rain, there is hunger. Because of credit, that extra income, small as it is, can make a big difference. Those of us who pull out a credit card many times a day have no idea that credit is simply not available to poor people around the globe.
Dikidini demands that each person save some amount each month and invest it with the group, which then lends small amounts with interest to members. We were visiting on the day, once every eight months, each would receive back their savings and their share of the profits from the credit loans. There were lots of smiles around the circle as they celebrated the accomplishments of the group.
The meeting was a model of financial transparency. Wall Street could take some lessons here. Before the entire group a large metal cash box with three padlocks was placed in the center with two women sitting next to it. Three other women, each with a key, opened one of the locks. Next to the group was a large poster with the names of each member, how much they had saved in this time period and their share of the profits from the loans. The money was counted in front of all, shown and then given to the recipient, who often smiled, danced or gave a few whoops. It was a happy moment.
Following the meeting, I walked with Nathalie to the small mud hut that she calls home. It was circular, maybe fifteen feet in diameter. Next door was her mother’s hut, the same size. Dirt floors, no electricity, no indoor water, no kitchen. There are tree houses in our country with more amenities.
Through an interpreter we chatted with her about how her life has changed by participating in the program. She was shy but willingly spoke of the satisfaction that it gave her to accomplish something she never dreamed of. She had used the credit to make peanut butter and millet beer that she sold at the local market. All her life she has worked hard, not knowing if there would be food for her or the children. Everything else, beyond the basics, was simply never possible. Now, something had changed for the better.
I found myself questioning how such a person thinks about themselves. How does it make you feel about yourself when every moment of life is so hard? How do you cope with the insecurities and threats that are simply part of everyday life here? I got my answer when I asked her what she had done with the little extra income from the program. She said she was now able to pay the school fees for her children. Otherwise they would not be able to get any education.
As she continued to speak to the interpreter, I noticed he looked down at her feet. Through the worn sandals she wore I could see her toenails polished a bright red. She has been able for the first time in her life to buy something just for her, toenail polish.
It was such a simple yet deeply human moment as I stood there. I wanted to cry. The next time you use nail polish or see someone in this country who does, please remember Nathalie. Solidarity means I am in some way responsible for everyone on earth, especially the poorest. I need to make some adjustments in my own life to include them. I need to pray for them, think about them regularly and carry them in my heart. I need to modify how I live my life so I can directly help them more with my contributions. I also need to advocate for them with our government to direct more foreign aid that will enable them to live in dignity.
Dignity can come through many ways, even toenail polish.
I am proud that CRS, representing all US Catholics, helps people find that God-given dignity in their own way by helping themselves.