CORRELATION

The captain of British Airways flight 63 announced the final descent towards Entebbe International with 20 minutes remaining. A small commotion broke out onboard, as people ran towards the bathroom to freshen up while others repacked their bags in anticipation of finally getting off this 8.5-hour flight. Personally, an excitement bordering on dread took over me, realizing that this crazy plan I had of living in Uganda and working in social business would shortly be a reality, no longer some virtuous idea that made for great small talk at dinner parties. Looking out the window as the plane finally broke through the clouds, I caught my first glimpse of my new home, Uganda. Peeling back the clouds like unwrapping a present; a frustrating anticipation to see what was on the other side. I could see green rolling hills in every direction, small houses like polka dots speckling the countryside, sunlight reflecting off of tin roofs. As land came closer and closer, the eagerness grew and grew, till finally the plane touched down, the doors opened, and I walked down the air stairs to be greeted by an oppressive humidity heavily seasoned with the organic smell of unknown plants mixed with diesel fumes.

Uganda is rich in natural beauty.

I am in Africa for a little over three months with the goal of starting a solar power distribution network in the Lira area of northern Uganda. An MBA student at John Molson School of Business at Concordia University in Montreal, Canada, I am extremely interested at the convergence of business with international development. This has manifested in different forms, some call it microdevelopment, some call it microfinance, and others call it “bottom of the pyramid” strategies. What these terms all have in common is that the development world can learn a lot from the private sector in initiating schemes to improve the lives of the poor through commerce. This reflects a growing attitude away from traditional humanitarianism, where money, technology or time is given away for free, towards a trade-based alternative where solutions come from the collaboration of local stakeholders and outside investors, where knowledge and capital is exchanged, and where the responsibility for success relies on the cooperation of the poor and of the investors. Ideally, for a solution to be sustainable over time, the poor are educated with the tools needed to support their business; and escape, offering a freedom so sought after by so many. People want to be the masters of their own destiny. It is in this spirit of liberty that microfinance, championed by Nobel Prize winning economist Muhammad Yunus, aims to help people work out of poverty on their own terms. Central to microfinance is the idea that the poor want to take ownership of their own future, not handouts.

That's me, on (in) the road outside my house in Mbale. (Photo Bernardo Goriupp)

I will be the project manager of a solar energy distribution network during my time in Uganda. I am working with MAPLE (Microdevelopment for the Alleviation of Poverty through Learning and Entrepreneurship), alongside Bernardo Goriupp, a MA student in Law and Diplomacy at the Fletcher School at Tufts University, in the USA. Bernardo will be leading a fish farming project with a local savings group made completely of seniors. I will be meeting with several savings groups to determine which groups have the capital to invest in a solar project, and which groups would be able to and be interested in supplementing their savings with earnings produced from a small-scale entrepreneurial solar project.

Solar energy is a solution to several pressing social problems at work in Uganda today. First, most villages outside of urban centres are completely off grid, meaning that at night, villagers use kerosene, candles, or charcoal to light up their houses. This has many negative side effects; first, the smoke produced from these methods is a major cause of cancer. A rechargeable light can eliminate these noxious fumes instantly. It is also quite difficult for people, especially children, to study at candle light. Most children work during the day, so their studies are sacrificed to serve their daily needs, meaning most kids do not have advanced education. A longer day means more time for study, increasing literacy leading to better decision making skills. Lastly, as cell phones have become the major method of money transaction (among many other important uses), recharging batteries becomes costly and time consuming, as travelling to the towns with electricity can take several hours. If a solar vendor is in the village, residents can concentrate of farming, or studying, and not on getting to town. Bringing power to villages via solar energy will, I hope, solve all of these problems. This is my mission: to bring as many panels to as many savings groups or entrepreneurs as possible. I first have to understand the distribution networks here and the value chain.

The market in Mbale town.

It took three continents, seven time zones, and two night flights to finally arrive in Uganda. In Kampala, Bernardo and I boarded the “Elgon Flyer”, a blue, 1970s era bus. Destination Mbale! Walking into the bus was like walking into a pressure cooker; the sun, baking the bus all day left its occupants steamed and sweaty like half-cooked rice. Unsure if it was the sun, or the exhaustion, or both, but the bus trip felt like a hallucination; watching the countryside whizz by, thousands of beautiful black faces, incredible fauna (avocados the size of children’s heads), flowers and butterflies every colour of the spectrum, and massive cranes gliding effortlessly across the azure African sky. As I felt the air rush past me, cooling me off from the heat, I looked around and saw that everyone on the bus was smiling. At what? Not sure, but people here are incredibly warm and friendly. I will make it my mission to understand why they are so happy. Perhaps it is because this place is beautiful? Is that too obvious? Whatever it is, I find myself smiling too. I like that.

Outside Mbale town, towards the coffee fields of Bufumbo.

I am now staying at the MAPLE house in Mbale, seat of the MAPLE head office. I am pretty comfortable, there are no snakes in the bathroom, only roaches and mice in the bedroom, so it’s pretty good so far, relatively speaking. Every morning is a cacophony of chickens, children, roosters, and local DJs trying their hardest to be the loudest. Yesterday, Saturday afternoon, the sun was blazing, and there were about six little boys outside my window playing lions. Usually, six boys screaming outside my window when I wake up would be more than enough to make me lose my mind and then carry that anger all day till I fall asleep at night. Here, though, watching these little boys playing in the grass, hearing the happiness in their voices as they speak in English so elegantly: “March like a lion! You march more effectively!”... an English better than most people in Canada, I too am drawn into their make believe world, where happiness is contagious and where we are all lions.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of my familiarization with MAPLE, and hopefully understanding what exactly I will be doing here. Wednesday, I will be travelling to Lira, a city in the north of the country, to find my permanent digs. Not sure where I will be living (yet), but there are plans in the works. The longer I am here, the more I realize that things do eventually happen, just never when or exactly how you imagined they would. I invite you to follow me on my adventure in this surprisingly beautiful, completely confusing, totally wonderful country. I will try to update this blog weekly, or more, and will also let you know more about the solar panel project, and what my role will be outside of the project as well. But today, today is for exploring and discovering, and trying not to get run over by motorcycles!

Andrew Oliver

The town clock in the centre of Mbale.