Foreign Aid and Homophobic African Governments

Recently came the news that homophobic countries in Africa are to have financial aid from Britain cut.

"In itself, such a move should be applauded. Countries where gay people are persecuted, imprisoned or even killed merely on account of their sexuality should be treated as pariah states. Giving money ostensibly to relieve need in places where such true human rights to life and liberty are routinely snuffed out like this is quite obscene," observes the UK's Daily Mail newspaper's Melanie Phillips.

While I welcome this move and think it is long overdue, I believe that the timing of the UK government's announcement is significant, coming just after a Conservative Party conference at which the Tories attempted to portray a compassionate image of their party - a move that has been widely scorned as being a stunt. After all, it is not only gay people who are being persecuted in many of these countries. Several other social groups also suffer abuse, as for example in Islamic countries, where women continue to suffer systematic oppression. Yet we hear of no plans to cut aid to those countries on their account.

I think this announcement might be a sweetener for those who have criticised the Cameron government for continuing to increase its foreign aid programme at a time when the same government is carrying out deep spending cuts at home. Prime Minister Cameron has famously stated that continuing to increase the aid programme at the time of austerity is a "sign of moral strength".

However, when one considers that the UK is having to borrow huge sums of cash from parts of the developing world, such as the Middle East and China just to stay afloat, but is at the same time doling out enormous sums in aid to poorer developing countries in Africa and Asia, one cannot but wonder whether the government's critics don't have a point. More so when the facts are that: although the budget for the UK's Department for International Development is set to increase from the current £8 billion per year to £11.5 billion by 2015, the Home Office budget, which pays for the Police and counter terrorism within the UK, has been cut over the same period, from £10.1 billion in the current financial year, to £8.3 billion in 2014/15. Yet, it is still the case that much of the aid given to poorer countries is not capable of being monitored as to how it is utilised.

Aid funds are manipulated by tyrants in order to oppress, enslave, suppress and even kill their own people and to prop up their brutal and corrupt regimes. (I will refrain from mentioning names, but to bear out this argument, there seems to be a correlation between those African countries most reliant on foreign aid, and those with the most brutally oppressive regimes). It has been argued (disingenuously in my view) that the problem of misapplication of aid funds is a thing of the past, and that aid budgets have now been made "rigorously accountable". But even the UK government-established Independent Commission on Aid Impact has stated that up to 27 per cent of the UK's aid budget goes directly to the recipient countries' governments to spend as they choose. A further one-third of official aid money goes to expert international bodies such as the World Bank and the United Nations. Only a relatively small amount is spent by the UK Government directly on humanitarian projects.

Therefore, governments that are recipients of foreign aid are free on the larger part, to do what they please with the money that they receive. This money is seen as easy pickings by those in power in those countries. And far from helping poor nations rise from destitution, foreign aid has encouraged dependency, fostered corruption and prevented the development of the free institutions of government and civil society, whose absence is the principal cause of the poverty in the first place. Also, to protect the rights of gay African people, it will not be nearly enough merely to force African countries to repeal or amend their anti-gay legislation. There must overall be changes in societal attitudes too, yet it is difficult for me to envisage how the withholding of foreign aid alone will bring those changes about.

In conclusion, I must express how strongly I feel about the fact that several decades after achieving independence from their former colonial masters, many African countries continue to rely so very heavily on financial aid from abroad, such that this aid has been allowed to become a whip with which African governments can be flogged into submission. This is another count in the long indictment against the leadership that the African people have had inflicted upon them.

Rays of hope from the land of the free

I was having a browse on a gay search engine (as I do), and came across this.

http://nomoredownlow.tv/

It seems very interesting and is long overdue. Here's a brief description

No More Down Low.TV is a groundbreaking, one-of-a-kind lifestyle and entertainment series dedicated to dispelling myths and stereotypes about same gender-loving people in the African American community.

I couldn't have put it better myself, so I didn't; I just borrowed that from the About page on the site. While there I also found out that the site was launched in 2010, so it's been around a while. It's free to check out the blog and look around, see what's new and happening in the areas the site covers, and you're going to find that this isn't just your ordinary blog. There are lots of posts and interviews and the episodes of themselves, of course, but there's also a community area and bonus videos. Perfect, a great place to check out LGBT issues concerning the African American community.

It is a relief to know that change can come from a land that is more enlightened, than Africa & the Caribbean (for the most part). It makes a refreshing change than to read of stories such as,

Ghana Rounding Up And Arresting Gays & Nigeria: Days of Gay Marriage will soon be Numbered

which are all too depressing to dwell on.

However as the esteemed Akin says on his blog:

"In other words, the concept of the acceptance of homosexuality in Africa will only be under duress from free societies in negotiations for other things than it becoming an accepted thing in society.."

Taken from Akin's blog post, Editorial: Legislating for the Unforeseeable of Same Sex Marriage

This is not to say the struggle for equality should be left solely to those overseas, the more intimidating and infinitely more dangerous campaign must continue from the home base also.

Coming Back to the Future

 

It's been quite a while since I've put something up on this blog. The reason for this is that I've been otherwise preoccupied. My time was taken up by professional disciplinary proceedings, which commenced just over three years ago, but came to a climax over the last few weeks. (I had mentioned it previously on this blog here and here).

It has not been easy having to wait for such a long time and having to live with the uncertainty about the future that is inevitable in such circumstances. For me it is a matter of great relief that finally the proceedings have concluded and the long wait is over. Of course you would expect me to divulge the outcome of the proceedings, and I will, but only to a limited extent, given that those proceedings are not the real subject of this post. To assuage your curiosity though, suffice it to say that the outcome for me in particular was a reasonably good one, given all of the circumstances.

I have emerged in a considerably better position than I had imagined, and am now able after a period of prolonged professional paralysis, to think about and consider the future. And this relatively favourable outcome is essentially thanks to the assistance of a wonderful brilliant senior barrister, whose services I would not normally be able to afford but for the great professional indemnity insurance policy that I had ensured was taken out by my former firm, which included cover for legal representation before the disciplinary tribunal.

So now that hurdle is in the past, and the time has come for me to pick up the pieces of my career, which I must admit is in unmitigated tatters. I feel almost as if midway through my working life, I am now required to start my career afresh, when one is at that age when Human Resources departments are not exactly falling over themselves to take you on; together with the added disadvantage of the world being in the middle of a horrendous economic crisis. I find myself wondering why I ever imagined that the end of the disciplinary proceedings would also bring to an end the uncertainty about the future, the apprehension and the worry.

Climate Change Adaptation and Conflict in Nigeria

"Climate change, a growing number of voices in media and policy circles warn, is raising the risks of violent conflict in the twenty-first century. Dire futures are predicted for some of the world's poorest, least prepared countries and their most vulnerable citizens. This report, (authored by Aaron Sayne, who in July 2011 published policy recommendations with background on Nigeria's Petroleum Industry Bill (PIB)), is sponsored by the Centers of Innovation at the U.S. Institute of Peace and evaluates these claims for conflict-prone Nigeria.

Based on a comprehensive literature survey, interviews with senior government officials, academics and private sector figures and the author's work as a conflict analyst in Nigeria, the report calls for a more nuanced approach to mapping the links between climate change and conflict. It reviews evidence of such links in Nigeria and outlines a process for achieving conflict-sensitive adaptation to the effects of climate change."

Click on this link for the 16-page Special Report

And he died (Part 3)

Years passed and with the passage of time our friendship suffered change. The change was slow, gradual and subtle, but it was forced upon us by the increasingly limited opportunity available to enjoy the closeness that we once enjoyed, and still felt. It was brought on by a combination of factors; first, that we both were engaged in full-time careers; second, that as a family man TJ just could not be there as he had been before. And I was quite understanding of this too, taking every opportunity when it presented itself to visit him at his office at Bonny Camp, at Victoria Island, spending untold hours with him, just being together.

TJ was shortly going off to the United States of America on a training course, and I recall accompanying him from one military office to the other government office as he did the legwork necessary to put together all of the official paperwork for his trip; me dressed in my smart dark business suit, he in his even smarter Army Major's uniform; a uniform that caused doors to open with an alacrity that astonished me, whichever door it was that we knocked on.

On the night of his departure, we both said goodbye to his family at his home and it was I who drove him to the airport, where, when he had completed the formalities and was just about to go through the gate taking him air-side, his eyes boring into mine, we held each other for a brief moment, our hands on each other's shoulders. The words were unspoken, but they were clearly understood. "Thank you for being my friend, thank you for standing by me." 

Quite a feat, seeing how stiff and awkward TJ always was prior to that, a proclivity that had endeared him to me over the years. It is that evening of his departure that comprises the indelible memory of my friendship with TJ.

I use the word 'memory' because from the title of this story, it ought to have been clear from the beginning that this is not a story with a happy ending. TJ was away for a few weeks and shortly after his return, received a further promotion to Lieutenant Colonel, (he was only a Lieutenant when we first met twelve years earlier). 

I am not sure about this, but I will assume that the promotion also meant that he was qualified for different, presumably more prestigious housing, because he moved house, again. The promotion also led to him being reassigned from Bonny Camp to Defence HQ to do more security sensitive work, working long hours, making him quite inaccessible while at work. Thus not knowing where he now lived there was a period of about a few months after his return that I had no contact with him. And this was in the days before mobile telephony. 

Eventually, contact was re established and it was arranged that he would show me his new place on a date to be specified. 

Some time later, while at my work, a colleague of mine walked into my office with a strange look on his face. He started by stating that he had just been to see General Somebody at Defence HQ. The General was my colleague's personal client, and he had invited my colleague to his office to discuss some personal legal matter. While my colleague was seated in this General's office, some underling entered the room and confirmed to the General that the reports were true. 

Very upset by what he had just heard, the General narrated to my colleague the details of the report that he received a short while before. One of his senior officers had apparently died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound, mentioning the name of the officer. My colleague did not know TJ in person, but he knew of him and knew his name.

According to my colleague the General recounted that over the previous few weeks he had noticed a change in this officer's behaviour. He was withdrawn, and listless, something the General thought was unusual for this particular officer. After the report of the shooting it was explained to the General that the officer (TJ) had discovered that his wife had been having an affair with one of the couple's neighbours. This officer, in a blind rage, had broken into the home of this neighbour, and with his service revolver shot at the neighbour. He then walked back to his own residence, and placing the gun against his temple, shot himself dead, spattering bits of his brain across the wall and the stairwell. 

The bitter irony of this whole incident, was that the wife's suspected lover survived the gunshot and was taken to hospital.

It is impossible through writing to accurately describe or convey how distraught I became on hearing this news. Even after so many years, I don't believe I have successfully in my mind fully articulated my feelings surrounding this whole affair. As I said at the beginning, I shoved it aside, choosing instead not to think about it, in the vain hope that the pain somehow would go away. But it did not disappear, and continues to haunt me. I feel guilt. I feel as if I let down my dear friend. I should have been there for him in his time of distress. 

I believe that had I been aware, and been there for him, he would not have taken such drastic action. I would have been in a position to intervene. He must have felt so alone in his time of crisis. He was not one to make many friends, and certainly not friends in whom he would confide and entrust such a sensitive matter. He was introverted, and very proud; but he would have trusted me, and allowed me to hold his hand through that difficult time. I feel somehow that I let him down. I am sad that he went through such intense anguish, and I was not there for him. 

It is about eighteen years since TJ died, and I find myself for the first time breaking out in tears as I type this. Perhaps writing this story was the catharsis I needed, but if I'm to be honest, I did this not for me alone. I did it for TJ too, and to commemorate that wonderful closeness that we shared and enjoyed, that which two human beings can have between each other. He really did mean so much to me, and I still get the feeling that even after all I have written, I have not done justice to the beautiful thing that we shared. May his soul rest in peace.

Rest In Peace Ter.

(The end)

And he died (Part 2)

After the exams at the end of second year, TJ confided to me that he didn't feel confident about his performance and he worried about the likely results. Nevertheless, that summer holiday was perhaps the most memorable, for despite the fact we were not on campus and I was living at home miles away, (and even on occasion travelled out of town), TJ and I still managed to see each other practically on a daily basis. We had clearly become a significant part of each other's life, but as this was in the '80s, well before the age of the mobile phone and emails, our incessant rendezvous were arranged by strictly kept appointments. Sometimes, I found myself as a guest at some officers' mess or other, feeling distinctly out of place in the midst of all that boisterous military banter. And I recall with some fascination how a shirtless TJ suddenly stiffened and stood to attention when someone, whom he later confirmed was a Brigadier, strode past us one evening as he was walking me to the gate of his compound.

When the results of the exams were finally released, it came as no surprise that TJ had not made it. He would have to resit some papers during the holidays. And despite all of the support that I offered, he still didn't make it at the resit. So when third year began TJ was not seated beside me as he had been for all of the preceding two years. He would have to repeat second year in its entirety; he was now in a different class and was absent in the seat next to mine. It was a strange feeling not having him as a reference point and I suppose that this was when we started slowly to drift apart, being on different schedules and doing different things. By the end of third year, sometimes a whole week had passed before we would meet. And we would meet only either because he came knocking on the door of my room at the hostel, or because I went looking for him at his flat, in the vague hope that I would find him at home and alone.

Third year ended and I graduated from the university, but by this time things were no longer the same. I moved on to one year of Law School located across town, but this was a hectic, intensive course that did not allow for much free time. We weren't seeing each other half as frequently as before, since he remained at the university. And the fact that the nurse, not wanting to leave anything to chance, had now moved into his flat, didn't help matters either. However, that we did not meet as frequently as before did nothing to dampen the intensity upon which our friendship was formed and built, hence my reference to the phrase "more than friends" earlier. On the occasions when we found ourselves together, it was as if we'd never been apart. Sometimes, he would send word through another officer who lived near him, but who was also at Law School with me, to let me know that he missed me, even though such messages were coined in such a way as not to give away the true depth of feeling. And so it went on. 

But alas, my time at Law School came to an end. And while TJ was heading for his own one year at law school, I was winging it more than a thousand kilometres away to a place called Bauchi in the north of Nigeria for my one year of compulsory national youth service. It was during this one year that the distance between us began to grow. After my one year of service I stayed on in the North, and it must have been nearly three years before I made it back to Lagos for a visit. And of course I went looking for TJ, finally tracking him down, although he had been relocated from his bachelor-officer flat to a more ample family accommodation, still within the military cantonment. 

TJ had been promoted, and he had married. And his wife was heavily pregnant, a surge of realisation that sent me reeling momentarily. Before you start wondering, no, she wasn't that nurse that I knew.

All in all it was a great joy to see him again and from what I could tell, he seemed overjoyed to see me too. And the Mrs, well, she was extremely pleasant and welcoming, and she and I got on famously, a fact which effect on TJ was not lost on me. Obviously, she meant a lot to him and the joy that he exuded was palpable, almost tangible. I too was greatly happy to see such joy in his eyes. And when he dropped me off that evening, sitting together in the car, he let me know that my presence on that day brought it all together for him. I'd never seen him so happy.

Moving forward in time, I eventually moved back to Lagos. By this time TJ and his Mrs had given birth to two strapping boys both of whom I was very fond of, and I would visit them frequently at their new home. TJ had been promoted again, and they now lived in a big house. The boys loved me too, and since I'm quite good with kids, we were a happy bunch indeed.

My friendship with TJ remained pretty much as it always was, quiet, intimate conversations sitting together in the car on a dark street, (I discussed things with him that I could discuss with no one else - and vice-versa, I'd like to think); going for very long walks usually setting out around sunset so as to be together for as long as possible; walks on the beach; me sitting on the side watching him play tennis. I enjoyed being with him. 

And so it went on, for a while, until the day when the news came to me.

(To be continued)