why there is no doctor: high-risk migration patterns (4)


(photo: traffic in Johannesburg)

Apartheid worked on a model of strict population control for increased economic gains. Removing millions to overcrowded townships and Bantustans far from city centers developed a system of forced migrant labor. Both men and women had to leave these areas to find any economic stability for their families.

It has been estimated that one third of the adult male population in the Bantustans is absent at any one time, contributing to the low level of farming. Many women are also forced to seek work elsewhere to support their families. In general they are excluded from seeking work on the industrial areas of South Africa and the majority work as domestics or in agriculture (32).

The migration of Black populations to find work had adverse effects on the health of individuals, families, as well as communities. The movements of people from rural to urban areas became entrenched in the economic system where state interventions actively controlled and mobilized labor migrations (33). In 1990, a study in KwaZulu-Natal province found that men who were migrant workers in the mines had twice the HIV rates as non-migrant workers, while women who attended prenatal clinics in the province had twice the national level of HIV infection (34).

During the period of 1993-1999, there was a significant increase in migrant labor. This can be explained by the ending of apartheid laws creating an increased mobility of populations of workers. In 1993, 32.6% of rural Black Africans were migrant laborers (35). In 1999, almost 40% of rural Black Africans were migrant laborer and 34% of all these migrant workers were women (36). This period also marked the ending of apartheid laws, the first democratic elections in South Africa as well as the doubling of HIV prevalence rates (37). Recent studies have shown that labor migration patterns did not change with the ending of apartheid, but rather increased. A 2003 study concluded that,

Migration continues to play an important role in the spread of HIV-1 in South Africa. The direction of spread of the epidemic is not only from returning migrant men to their rural partners, but also from women to their migrant partners. Prevention efforts will need to target both migrant men and women who remain at home (38).

Professor Lurie and researchers from Brown University, Harvard Medical School and Imperial College London used data collected from nearly 500 men and women living in bustling towns and rural villages to create a mathematical model that shows that migration of South African workers played a major role in the spread of HIV mainly by increasing high-risk sexual behaviors. Very often young men would leave the rural Bantustans in order to earn a living in the urban areas and mines only returning home once a year. With the lifting of travel restrictions on Black South Africans after apartheid this “circular movement” increased (40). Professor Lurie said,

Our model showed that migration primarily influences HIV spread by increasing high-risk sexual behavior. Migrant men were four times as likely to have a casual sexual partner than non-migrant men. So, when coupled with an increase in unprotected sex, we found the frequent return of migrant workers to be an important risk factor for HIV (41).

Notes:
32. Seedat, Aziza. Crippling a Nation: Health in Apartheid South Africa, 18.
33. Posel, Dorrit. “Have migration patterns in post-apartheid South Africa changed?” 4-7 June 2003.
34. “HIV and other STDs. Chapter 3, Part 1” Population Reports. November 1996, 20.
35. Posel, Dorrit. “Have migration patterns in post-apartheid South Africa changed?” 4-7 June 2003, 3.
36. Ibid.
37. “HIV & AIDS in South Africa: The history of AIDS in South Africa.” Avert.
http://www.avert.org/aidssouthafrica.htm
38. Lurie, Mark N; Williams, Brian G; Zuma, Khangelani; Mkaya-Mwamburi, David; Garnett, Geoff P; Sweat, Michael D; Gittelsohn, Joel; Karim, Salim SAbdool. AIDS:17 October 2003 – Volume 17 – Issue 15 – pp 2245-2252.
39. Ibid.
40. Ibid.
41. Ibid.

Coming next: Scapegoating “tropical workers”

why there is no doctor: cleaning black spots off of a white land? (3)

Forcing people to live in separate racial areas of South Africa was the driving piece of apartheid’s “separate development” policy. The pockets of the Black population that lived among and near White city centers were called “Black spots” and the government actively worked to clean them out. During the 1950s and 1960s the first “forced removals” occurred after the passing of the Group Areas Act established these racial areas. More than 860,000 people were forcibly removed as a way to divide and control racially separate communities as resistance grew towards apartheid policies (23). Sophiatown of Johannesburg and District Six of Cape Town are just two examples of vibrant multi-racial communities that were destroyed by South African government bulldozers once they were deemed “White” areas (24).

Between 1960 and 1983, over 3.5 million South Africans were forcibly removed (25) and until 1984 another 1.7 million were under threat of removal (26). Blacks were removed to distant segregated townships, sometimes 30 kilometers away from places of employment in the central towns and cities (27). As a result ‘informal settlements’ formed as shantytowns closer to places of work, but many were destroyed. Farm laborers were also displaced by mechanized agricultural. As a result farm laborers were segregated into desperately poor and overcrowded rural areas and were not permitted to travel to towns to find new jobs (28).

Removals represented the “essential tool” for apartheid to work. Creation of the Bantustans stripped Black South Africans of all legal rights in South Africa and their welfare was no longer the problem of the South African government. Hundreds of thousands of other Blacks were dispossessed of land and homes where they had lived for generations in these “Black spots” now designated as part of “White” South Africa. Entire townships were destroyed and their residents removed to just inside the borders of Bantustans where they now faced long commutes to their jobs (29).

In other words, removal of people is not simply a physical act; it is part of a process and a strategy that seeks to push increasing numbers of South Africa’s people into ever more remote and inhospitable areas where, broken and fragmented by the experience of removal and all that it means, people are left to exist under conditions of increasing apathy and powerlessness (30).

One UN report on the forced removals noted, “that the demolition was executed in total disregard for the health and well-being of every individual concerned, in the most inhumane manner” (31). The forced removals created poverty situations where the infertile Bantustan lands had to sustain an overcrowded population. This policy of removal, coupled with the apartheid policies on health services in Bantustans and for Black medical training, shows the dire health effects on the Black population. These terrible health conditions later translate into environments easily susceptible to the spread of HIV/AIDS.

Notes:
23. “Forced removals” South Africa: Overcoming apartheid, building democracy. MSU African Studies Center.
http://www.overcomingapartheid.msu.edu/multimedia.php?id=5
24. Ibid.
25. “Forced removals” South Africa: Overcoming apartheid, building democracy. MSU African Studies Center.
http://www.overcomingapartheid.msu.edu/multimedia.php?id=5
26. “The uprooting of millions, forced removals.” For their Triumphs’ and Tears. ANC, 1983.
http://www.anc.org.za/books/triumphs_part1.html#3back1
27. “Forced removals” South Africa: Overcoming apartheid, building democracy. MSU African Studies Center.
http://www.overcomingapartheid.msu.edu/multimedia.php?id=5
28. Ibid.
29. Ibid.
30. J Yawitch, Betterment. “The myth of homeland agriculture” SAIRR: Johannesburg, 1981, p.86.
31. ‘Forced removals in South Africa 1977-1978’, paper prepared by IDAF for the United Nations Centre Against Apartheid, No. 44/78, Oct. 1978, p.9.

Coming next: High-Risk Migration Patterns

why there is no doctor: the health system via apartheid (2)

In order to fully understand the extent of the HIV/AIDS crisis in South Africa and the reasoning for its rapid spread without a response, the history of the health care system and apartheid must be researched. Creating a timeline (see Appendix A) of the health care system in South Africa will be critical to understanding current inadequacies and failures. Looking more critically at the policies of apartheid will also allow a better understanding of their effects on the health of the population, especially the Black majority.

Looking back to the Union of South Africa under Jan Smuts (8), the beginnings of government control of health care systems can be seen. In 1919, the Public Health Act marked the beginning of health service structure in South Africa where policy and procedure is delegated to specific provincial authorities by the central government (9). In the early 1940s there was talk of creating a National Health Service (10). However, when the National Party (Afrikaaner) came to power in 1948, apartheid laws were enacted and the health budget was cut “drastically” (11). This may seem a minor note, however this translated into the policy of “separate development” that left traditional homelands or “Bantustans” as well as Black townships to come up with their own health care services.

[…] the health services aid in the reproduction of the Black labour force according to White economic needs. The provision of health care for Blacks outside the bantustans is geared towards the urban population as the supplier of a large and increasingly skilled, Black workforce, rather than the Black population at large. Secondly, the health services support the commitment to ‘separate development’ in various ways. […] They help to establish the credibility of the bantustans and their leaders, and of the representatives in the new segregated parliament. They also provide a lever with which the government can pressurize bantustan governments into accepting ‘independence’. […] Thus health policy is shown to be an instrument of the state’s twin imperatives: reproducing the conditions of capitalist accumulation and maintaining White supremacy. (12)

Following the legal creation of apartheid, the health system continued to evolve. The year 1951 brought the Bantu Authorities Act, which established traditional homelands for the majority of South African citizens. This action took away the rights and citizenship of 9 million Blacks. In the same year the Prevention of Illegal Squatting Act continued the forced removal of Black South Africans and began the destruction of basic health services that had been established (13). Up until 1970, health services run in Bantustans by mission stations and churches were under the control of ‘local government’ authorities (14). However, following 1970 all health services were placed under the control of the South African Department of Health (15). Along with the removal of people living in the wrong areas and the destruction of health services in those areas, the South African apartheid government was slowly taking control of all aspects of health service to the Black population. In 1973, the Department of Bantu Administration and Development began to gradually take control of all mission hospitals (16). This increased government control led to severe staff shortages as mission doctors did not want to be under the authority of the South African government. This was called an intermediate progress step before completely handing over financing of health services to ‘homeland’ governments. Within the health care system of apartheid South Africa, the notion of “separate development” quickly came to mean absolute government control.

The South African Institute of Race Relations made a Survey of Race Relations in 1982 and quoted a doctor talking on rural health services in the Bantustan homelands,

[…] gave some credibility to the homeland administration itself by enabling it to promote services to local communities. The separation of rural health services into homeland health services allowed the government to manipulate health statistics to give the impression that the health status of SA’s people was improving. An apparent fall in the rate of tuberculosis notifications between 1975 and 1980 was a result of the exclusion of statistics from Venda, Bophuthatswana and the Transkei. […] the separation of statistics also allowed the SA government to claim that most infectious diseases were occurring ‘outside of SA’ and were the responsibility of the appropriate homeland authority, not the SA Department of Health. (17)

The quote from this doctor working in the Bantustan health services shows the direct contradictions of the “separate development” policy within the health care system of South Africa. The doctor talks about how the South African Department of Health takes no responsibility for health statistics in Bantustans (1982), but since 1970 the Department of Health had controlled health services. This contradiction is an excellent example of the apartheid policy’s effect on health, an effect with a planned negative outcome. In interviews in 1983, doctors in the Department of Medicine at Baragwanath hospital in Soweto, Johannesburg noted the inadequacies of health services for the Black population:

[…] described the overcrowding and shortage of medical staff as having reached a ‘breaking point.’ Journalists who visited Ward 21 found that its 40 beds were occupied by 89 women and one child. […] ‘There are not enough doctors and too many patients to do things any other way here.’ Bedletters, giving the crucial medical and drug history of each patient, often got lost in a confusion of movement as patients moved outside the wards during the day to give the doctors greater freedom to work inside. ‘Sometimes I haven’t been able to find out what medication a patient was receiving,’ on doctor said,‘People are not being treated properly here.’

Health, access to health services, and control of health services was an active aspect of the apartheid government policy. The greatest impact of apartheid policy on health infrastructure for South Africa was denying proper training for Black health workers. At the end of 1981, it was estimated that 93% of the medical practitioners in South Africa were White and the ratio of Black doctors to patients was 1 to ever 91,000 people (18). While these numbers do not reflect the direct availability of health services, as much can be gathered. The numbers do show the availability of medical training for certain populations. Along with issues of access to training, there was also the issue of distribution of doctors. Approximately 60% of the population lived in rural areas, but only 5% of doctors practiced in those rural areas (19).

The medical profession of South Africa is White dominated. Medical training was offered at the major provincial universities. Black Africans were allowed to train at just three of these universities until a new medical training center was established in one of the Bantustans as a way to phase Blacks out of the White medical universities. Under the provisions of the Extension of University Education Act of 1959 a new medical training center was establish and the Minister of Education and Training (formerly Bantu Education) had the power to vet all applicants (20). It was policy to limit the number of Blacks as part of ‘Bantu Education’ (21). As Dr. Verwoerd stated in 1954:

The education of a white child prepares him for life in a dominant society and the education of a black child for a subordinate society [. . .] The limits (of Native Education) form part of the social and economic structure of the country.

This unequal access to facilities translated even deeper into medical education as there were restrictions for Black medical students even at the ‘mixed’ universities. The discriminatory laws translate into an inadequate medical training: Black students cannot attend post mortems of Whites, were not allowed to attend ward rounds in White hospitals, and Black students were asked to leave the room when White patients were used for clinical demonstrations. These issues related to access to training were seen across the board for doctors, nurses, pharmacists, and within professional medical organizations. The issues ranged from access to training, lower salaries, and lack of promotion.

Health in South Africa was not departed from the apartheid policy and was an active tool in ensuring political, economic, and social control by the White minority government. The only way to fix health care in South Africa depended on ending apartheid and discrimination and increased government attention to health problems (22). The effects that apartheid policy had on the health system of South Africa, specifically for Black South Africans, laid the groundwork for HIV/AIDS to rapidly spread and take such a heavy toll. Some of the active policy actions that contributed to HIV’s spread were forced removals and migrant laborer movements, both internal and international.

Notes:
8. “History of South Africa.” Wikipedia.org.
9. Seedat, Aziza. Crippling a Nation: Health in Apartheid South Africa, 63.
10. Ibid.
11. Ibid.
12. Price, Max. “Healthcare as an instrument of apartheid policy in South Africa.” 1986. http://heapol.oxfordjournals.org/cgi/content/abstract/1/2/158
13. Seedat, Aziza. Crippling a Nation: Health in Apartheid South Africa, 63.
14. Ibid.
15. Ibid.
16. Ibid.
17. Ibid, 69.
18. Ibid, 84.
19. Ibid.
20. Ibid, 86.
21. Ibid.
22. E. O. Nightingale, K. Hannibal, H. J. Geiger, L. Hartmann, R. Lawrence and J. Spurlock. “Apartheid Medicine.” Committee on Health and Human Rights, Institute of Medicine, National Academy of Sciences. Vol. 264 No. 16, October 24, 1990.

Coming next: Cleaning Black Spots off of a White Land?

why there is no doctor: introduction to an epidemic (1)

Subtitle: The Impact of HIV/AIDS in the Post-Apartheid Health Care System of South Africa

Introduction to an Epidemic

Everyone in the car remained silent as we passed a sea of gravestones on the way to Zonkizizwe, an informal settlement south of Johannesburg (1). The cemetery seemed to extend for miles. This was the reality of HIV/AIDS in the peri-urban, informal settlements. It is a reality that is not far departed from scenes in rural homelands as well as the urban townships of South Africa. I was not new to the HIV/AIDS epidemic, but I was new to the experiences of those living in an informal settlement under apartheid, struggling with the crippling impact of HIV in an area where I never even saw a doctor. Why were there no doctors?

It is estimated that one in five South Africans aged 15-49 are infected with HIV. Since the last UNAIDS report in 2008, 5.7 million people are living with HIV in South Africa and 1000 people die everyday from HIV/AIDS related causes (2). The cause of death for 71% of people aged 15-49 is now AIDS (3). Some people have even noted that South Africans spend more time at funerals than they do at weddings. There are an estimated 1,400,000 orphans as a result of HIV/AIDS (4). The numbers of those infected does not reflect the real impact of disease because the impact of HIV/AIDS extends further into families, friends, and communities.

Life expectancy has fallen considerably in South Africa as the prevalence of HIV/AIDS spread rapidly from 1990-2003 (5). This time period is marked by violent, but positive changes in government rule and policy. The first case of AIDS in South Africa was diagnosed in 1982 among the gay population, so why was the most rapid spread during this time period (6)? Many experts and professionals posit that this rapid spread of HIV and the lack of a response to the epidemic in South Africa is due to the political turmoil of the 1980s into the 1990s. However, this represents a failure to look deeper into the history of South Africa and its health care systems.

While violent conflict had a direct effect on the response to HIV/AIDS in South Africa, a number of other factors with greater impacts based in apartheid policy led to the rapid spread and limited possibility for a comprehensive government response even if there were an absence of violence. South Africa has a difficult history of formulating a response to HIV/AIDS: from apartheid health policy to AIDS denial, from a failed treatment program to the absence of doctors and adequate health infrastructures.

In the March 2009 elections, health was a driving factor for many voters and appeared on many political party platforms. The African National Congress (ANC) ran with promises to cut HIV infections by 50%, launch a National Health Insurance program, and ensure decent wages for health workers (7). With such a far-reaching crisis at hand, politicians must formulate a better, more comprehensive plan to address the effects of apartheid history combined with the current strains on the health care system if they are to effectively combat HIV/AIDS. Why has the response to HIV/AIDS been so poor? Why was HIV able to spread so quickly in South Africa? Why is there no comprehensive treatment program? Why are there no doctors?

Notes:
1. Personal account of Alex B. Hill who interned at Vumundzuku-bya Vana ‘Our Children’s Future’ in Zonkizizwe (Proper), South Africa from May-August 2008.
2. UNAIDS 2008 Report on the Global AIDS Epidemic http://www.unaids.org/en/KnowledgeCentre/HIVData/GlobalReport/2008/
3. Centre for Actuarial Research, South African Medical Research Council and Actuarial Society of South Africa (2006, November), ‘The Demographic Impact of HIV/AIDS in South Africa – National and Provincial Indicators for 2006’
4. HIV & AIDS in South Africa: The history of AIDS in South Africa
http://www.avert.org/aidssouthafrica.htm
5. UNAIDS 2006 Report on the Global AIDS Epidemic, Chapter 4: The impact of AIDS on people and societies
http://www.unaids.org/en/KnowledgeCentre/HIVData/GlobalReport/2006/default.asp
6. HIV & AIDS in South Africa: The history of AIDS in South Africa
http://www.avert.org/aidssouthafrica.htm
7. Cullinana, Kerry. “Healthy election promises.” 31 March 2009
http://allafrica.com/stories/200903310649.html

Coming next: The Health System via Apartheid

the universal currency of being under the weather

Review of Healing and Curing: Issues in the Social History and Anthropology of Medicine in Africa
by: Megan Vaughan

Everyone everywhere gets sick whether it is a common cold, a serious disease, or even a life-threatening virus. Likewise, communities across the world work to heal these illnesses and afflictions. Megan Vaughan reminds us that illness and healing are everywhere; there are unwell bodies everywhere and always attempts to heal those bodies. Illness and healing are regular, even normal, features in our lives. However, as Vaughan notes, illness and healing have different definitions and meanings in different areas of the world and within different cultures. How then can we unite the rhetoric into one common topic for academics to discuss?

One of my first thoughts goes to the international organization, Medecines Sans Frontiers (MSF, Doctors Without Borders), and their work across the globe conducting medical missions. How are they able to work towards comprehensive fighting of illness and healing when there are so varied ideas of illness and healing? Do they have anthropological training? Are they equipped with a cultural guide?

Vaughan notes that in Feierman’s article he cited Gilbert Lewis’ work in Papua New Guinea.

Lewis had defined the universe of misfortune by determining who was and who was not ill according to scientific criteria, and then observed how illness was diagnosed and treated within the community. As Feierman pointed out, this was a radically different anthropological approach to that taken by Victor Turner in The Drums of Afflication, a study in which illness appeared to have little independent biological reality, but was described as an important stage in a social drama. (284-5)

Lewis’ work was both innovative and radical in that he worked to apply his Western scientific knowledge well at the same time watching and learning how local communities treated illnesses.
I’d have to say this idea is no longer so radical and more likely than not has become the norm for those working in organizations like MSF.

Among ordinary people in cases of illness caused by sorcery, or in other words by one person’s aggression against another, the course of treatment developed into a contest of power between the medicine men working for and against the sick person. The patient could not recover unless his supporting healer proved fully dominant, and therefore capable of ending the contest of strength. (286)

An issue often arises between separating metaphor and symbol from biological reality in discussions of illness and healing. This is an especially important context in Africa where illness and sickness can refer to actual disease as well as spiritual imbalances or curses. Recognizing the overlaps of science and culture within medical practice is key to effective healing. If culture is ignored in scientific medical realities there can be terrible consequences. But, where is the boundary of biological science in medicine?

More often we have to choose between approaches, since we simply do not have the textured evidence which might allow us to trade both the extent of biologically defined illness and the cultural experiences and constructions of that illness. I would like to argue, then, that we might want to learn something from the new well-documented pluralism of African healing systems. (287)

Something that I have studied and seen is this pluralism of African healing systems. Most notably in Ghana the traditional healers and birth attendants are integrated into the formal health care system. They are provided training and certification and often work alongside those practicing Western orthodox medicine.

[…] we neither have to be totally biologically ‘blinkered,’ focusing exclusively on the disease vector, nor do we have to go so far down the road of social constructionism as to render ‘biology’ totally passive. (287)

Beyond various relative understandings of illness and healing it is important to break into the realm of colonial medicine in order to understand certain inadequacies in response to illness and failures of healing. Vaughan notes that the study of colonial medicine has been one of the areas that has illuminated most clearly the limits of colonial power (288). In Africa, she writes how, “colonial medics were simply too thin on the ground and their instruments too blunt to be viewed either as agents of oppression or as liberators from disease, and studies of African demography confirm this view.” (288)

Although colonial medicine may have been more an inadequate colonial department, it is important to look further and apply the past to the present. The impacts of Western diseases brought by colonial powers ravaged Africa. Because of perceptions of Africans and lacking colonial medical systems, these new diseases were not addressed. A history of disease patterns doesn’t reflect on colonial medicine, but the responses to disease patterns in Africa does. Colonial responses to illness reflected problematic representations of Africa and Africans and so the historical medical accounts are filled with issue.

[…] of course there are many important differences between theories and practices of twentieth century biomedicine, and those of African healers, but in order for us to understand these differences the practice of scientific medicine in its various forms needs to be specified with the same attention to detail as are those of its African counterparts. (291)

To conclude, I applaud Vaughan’s call for medical practice to reflect the pluralism found in Africa health care systems. She writes a compelling piece and hopefully her ideas are heeded at least in medical work conducted in Africa.

changing human behaviors: sexual and social

Review of AIDS in Africa: a perspective on the epidemic
by: Michael C. Latham

Africa is a continent wrought with many pressing issues, these issues are often not natural or specific to the continent, but they have been forced and applied to the people and so become a burden of near epic proportions. One of these pressing issues is the epidemic of HIV/AIDS. Responses to HIV/AIDS are based in human behaviors, both sexual and social.

Michael Latham noted that many accounts, “may suggest that the virus originated in Africa, and therefore it is Africans who are blamed for this human scourge.” (39) However, as many know, HIV/AIDS is not solely an African problem, uncontrolled and spreading like wildfire. These accounts springboard off of old myths of a ‘dark continent’ into new myths of dirt, death, and disease. This new myth is of a continent ravaged by disease inside and out, you can’t run from all the disease in Africa. It is also important to note that there is still no solid proof or knowledge of the origin of HIV/AIDS.

If the world is to blame Africa for HIV/AIDS, then Latham writes,

[…] but does it matter that syphilis was probably spread to the rest of the world from cases brought back to Europe from the Americas, to that cholera originated in the Ganga Delta of India and eventually reached East Africa from the middle east only in the mid twentieth century. Should Africans flagellate North Americans and Asians for spreading highly infectious diseases to Africa? (39)

Here we are at the historical spread of diseases and also, more notably, the social implications of associating one area or group of people with a disease. The social implications of chalking AIDS up to African causes becomes especially problematic in the medical community. Latham writes about when one potentially useful drug in the treatment of AIDS [HIV] waa described by the Kenya Medical Research Institute in 1990, it was largely ignored by the world press and […] the west.” (40) This proves a strong disdain and indifferent to Africa as well as a lack of respect for African doctors.

A key feature of HIV/AIDS is that it places all segments of society at risk: mother and father, child and grandparent, youth and elderly. Latham decries the lack of adequately funded research on HIV/AIDS in Africa, or anywhere (42).

We should have African anthropologists and sociologists in the bars and on the truck routes, in the urban slums and rural villages, gathering data on human behaviours, including sexual behavior, that may influence the spread of the disease. We need local epidemiological sleuths conducting the kinds of studies which led us to understand how cholera was spread and how pellagra could be controlled. (42)

Comprehensive understandings of HIV/AIDS and sexual behaviors in Africa will only be more helpful, but the social behaviors of the West and its institutions create a serious roadblock. The Kenyan discovery of Kemron was shown to reduce the effects of full-blown AIDS, but the announcement by the Kenyan president didn’t even make headlines. If a Western doctor had made the discovery the coverage would have been entirely different (46).

Another well-known fact about HIV/AIDS is that it is highly preventable. The only thing that needs to be changed or taught is human behavior: both sexual and social. There needs to be adequate health education for female members of a community. Female members also need more control in those communities, socially and sexually. Very often there is a strong gendered focus on women, but men also need serious engagement and education if their mindsets are going to change about women.

HIV/AIDS is an illness that requires changes in human behaviors: socially and sexually. There needs to be more comprehensive education on sexual prevention as well as a shift in the minds of Western organizations and institutions. There cannot only be a call for changed sexual behaviors in Africa, there must also be a concurrent change in the social behaviors of the West.

not in our time: burn the magic blankets and smash the band wagons

To posit that poverty, even just simply extreme poverty, will end or has the possibility to end in our time borders on naïveté. There are many within the development sphere that would jump on Jeffery Sachs’ bandwagon only to find that there are no bands scheduled to play. Like a marching band without instruments, Sachs’ claims seek to present structural solutions to problems without addressing structural root causes. One cannot expect too much from those who want to present good ideas, but do not challenge the status quo or the pockets of power that drive the “development” agendas. If there is to be real social change that benefits people in development then power structures must be addressed. Philip McMichael focuses on the role of power within the development field. Making sure to note the master and subject relationship between those of the ‘modern’ world and those who have not grown in the same vein as that power strapped modernity. A key aspect forgotten in many development discussions is history, including the very history of development. Many enter a community or country and attempt to present a diagnosis before even researching how and why the country, deemed ‘developing,’ has arrived at the poor conditions viewed as the worst possible indicators for ‘development.’

Post-World

We are living in a society that is wrestling with the idea that everything once held in high regard has actually been a set of extremely violent and detrimental practices to both our fellow human beings and our earthly habitat. As a result we talk of post-development, post-modernity, post-materialism, alternatives to globalization, and anything that rejects actions of the past. Calls like these are nothing new and have been expressed and published for the past 30 odd years by various experts and activists. It seems we are only now beginning to collectively grasp the importance of these post-world analyses. However from all these post-analyses it is easy to arrive at scathing conclusions of past failures. What is not as easy is to move forward from the wrongs of the past into the present and future with a firm understanding of what needs to change. Many within the development field fall victim to this analysis leaving the real issues unaddressed and the violent structure intact.
Addressing Inadequacies Effectively

Jeffery Sachs stepped to the limelight of the development world with his once seemingly far-reaching and radical assertions that we, the wealthy world, could easily do so much more to help those in grave situations. He was undoubtedly correct, but few took the time to really look at how he was saying (or not saying) we should implement this help. In Chapter One of his book, The End of Poverty, Jeffery Sachs writes,

Today we can evoke the same logic [the ability of advances in technology to underpin continued economic growth] to declare that extreme poverty can be ended not in the time of our grandchildren, but in our time. The wealth of the rich world, the power of today’s vast storehouse of knowledge, and the declining fraction of the world that needs help to escape from poverty all make the end of poverty a realistic possibility by the end of 2025. (3)

Here Sachs’ greatest mistake is laid bare. He does well to note that the wealth of today’s rich world is needed to make a difference in reversing the trends of poverty. However, he nearly exclusively focuses on the wealth of today’s rich world and not on the innovation and ability of those being ‘developed’ to know best about their situation. He misses the greatest uplifting accomplishment of human nature; empowerment. Yes, the ‘developed’ and Western world has harmed much of the ‘developing’ world in its pursuit of power and wealth. However, the key is not then to dictate the uses of that stolen wealth, but to redistribute it to those who are effectively addressing the issues that they face.

Sachs is an economist and not a historian. He nearly completely misses the make and break issue of development – colonialism and its effects. His structured solutions that tote the nation-state do not take into account a colonial past or its present implications that hold back development. Sachs as an economist is also from the “centralized” economics camp. He studied under shock therapy and structural adjustment programs (SAPs) for failing economies and seems to have never left behind the idea that people in poverty cannot help themselves and require experts or professionals to get them out.

Contradictions are a constant in Sachs’ work, the biggest one being his call for decentralization (278). His new big plan is the Millennium Villages Project (MVP), which looks like a very promising model except for the fact that it focuses on getting experts into villages to ‘develop’ and modernize them as opposed to allowing the village community to develop itself with support from the West. He calls for decentralization, but constantly follows the regular flows of development experts in advancing the role of the state in controlling development, as opposed to the people. The MVP has a great potential to be a working model for decentralized development spurred by individual communities in autonomous villages working for sustainable living, but those at the village level must then be empowered as such.

Relying on the market to help people is also a great failure of many current development economists, especially Sachs. If the market worked as it was supposed to, then wealth would redistribute itself through the structure to those without. This does not happen, there are cracks between the fingers of the invisible hand, and no markets are truly ‘free.’ Again Sachs fails to address power structures that drive markets and economies. The modernist approach with an individual at the helm driving his or her own advancement in society completely destroys the idea that people have a linked and interdependent existence. While Sachs critiques the magic bullet approach, he instead presents a magic blanket to cover the world of development issues without regard to power structures, colonial histories, or failures of the market (309). Sachs comes from the ‘development as modernization’ approach and he cannot seem to kick the habit.

Death by Consumption

Anyone with a basic understanding of the world can easily tell you that the way we currently live is extremely unsustainable and violent if the human race and world as we know it are to continue with future generations. Our practices destroy environments, force the extinction of animal species, destroy the lifestyles of those without, and kill people. We are essentially killing ourselves with the power hungry system we have established across the globe. When it was a wealthy minority that propagated the globalized stratification that we now see, it has become a collective “we” with a responsibility to change. In Chapter One of his book, Development and Social Change, Philip McMichael writes:

We are at a critical threshold: Whether consumer-based development remains a minority activity or becomes a majority activity among the earth’s inhabitants, either way is unacceptable for social (divided planet) or environmental (unsustainable planet) reasons or both, Development as we know it is in question. (1)

McMichael’s statement that, “We are at a critical threshold,” is not a new one. This sentiment has been echoed with the same calls for action for the past 30 years as many watched the earth deteriorate and society fracture across lines of income.

To overcome this threshold McMichael goes into the racist policies of colonization and talks about the benefits of decolonization in relation to development. The most important idea to cover here is the notion of modernity and the rise of neo-colonial practices funded by foreign aid. Are developing peoples modern? Can they be modern? How can those developing be considered modern if they never had a hand in developing what it now means to be modern? This is a very post-modern perspective, but I think a very valid one. If ‘developing’ societies want to effectively develop into sustainable communities that account for both the needs of people and their environment then they will need to reject every notion of being modern. Just because a Rwandan can use a computer doesn’t mean that s/he is modern mostly because s/he is not accepted as such in the global system. ‘Developing’ countries and communities need to also look at the implications of becoming modern: environmental degradation, liberalized and open economy that does not benefit everyone, exploitation of labor, the desire for things un-needed, and the fracturing of society in relation to wants, gender, and class.

The global world has come to commodify everything, including your much needed breakfast in the morning, possibly very soon your life could be legally bought and sold on the market. If everyone became modern and consumed at the rate that the wealthy do now – we will join the ranks of species made extinct by the human race. Those who have the highest power and wealth in society need to recognize and reduce their desire, while those without power and wealth need their basic needs provided.

McMichael’s writings focus on the impact of development projects and policies on people, and as such also the habitats of those people. Where most developers look beyond people straight to the nation-state and the increases in GDP, McMichael offers real life examples of development at work and models for sustainable development. McMichael doesn’t attempt to present any grand plans or solutions but instead focuses on case studies of groups and communities resisting global development and attempting to spur their own development (231).

Dichotomy: Will Modernity or Tradition Save the Day?

The potential solutions are many and the ideas just keep coming, but what really works and what is just a stack of papers, a nicely written book, or a pile of garbage. If we focus solely on the ideologies of Sachs and McMichael, I think it is possible to marry the two ideas for solutions to creating models for sustainable development and moving towards a more equal and mutually beneficial society.

Sachs will have to make some concessions if the marriage is to last beyond the honeymoon however. When Sachs calls for decentralization (278), he has to really mean it. His MVP model needs to embody this idea that small-scale groupings of people can create their own solutions for development. As McMichael writes, models of self-organizing development need to be adopted as opposed to the dominant centralizing version (239). In the same vein of decentralizing needs to be the idea of localization. McMichael writes of Wolfgang Sachs’ idea of ‘cosmopolitian localism’ where diversity is embraced at the local levels. A great example of ‘cosmopolitian activism’ is the advent of cooperatives that infuse democratic values and respect for local ecology.

In a case study in Ghana, McMichael outlines this idea better (248). Local farmers switched from growing a national crop of cassava to growing corn for the local markets. This was in a sense a slight rejection of the state economy and global economy to ensure a sustainable local community. The goal of many developing countries related to the environment is to create alternatives to the capital and energy intensive agro-industry and sustain local ecologies by building alternative models to top-down bureaucratic systems (249).

Conclusion

The solution will not be a large-scale plan that is facilitated by the West or modeled by modern advances. The solution will be in decentralized, small-scale, local villages and communities working collectively together to preserve their ecological habitats and meet everyone’s basic needs. The state will become irrelevant, the global economy will be allowed to collapse, and people will seek to be closer to one another in their shared natural commons.

Works Cited:
McMichael, Philip
2004 Development and Social Change. Thousand Oaks, California: Pine Forge Press.

Sachs, Jeffery
2005 The End of Poverty. New York: Penguin Press.

From Oppression to Development: Chevron’s Policy Rethink in the Nigeria’s Bayelsa State

Presenting my research in style (photo credit: Nick Micinski, 2008)

As a Research Assistant to Dr. Rita Kiki Edozie in 2008, I participated in researching for Resource Scarcity and Abundance: Oil Democratization, and Conflict it he Niger Delta. The research proposal was submitted to the Global Area Thematic Initiative (GATI) 2006 in conjunction with two other Michigan State University professors.

My research is focused on the tripartite relationship between the Chevron corporations, communities in Nigeria’s Bayelsa state, and the Nigerian government. A relatively new state in Nigeria, Bayelsa is at the tip of the Niger Delta, but has a long history of oil oppression. Oil corporations have long used government forces to violently repress opposition among communities who are unhappy with the exploitation of their resources. More recently oil corporations have started focusing on Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) as well as more community friendly development projects.

Related blog posts:

from oppression to development: chevron’s policy rethink in nigeria’s bayelsa state

Abstract

Conflict over the oil resource in Nigeria is not an issue that can be simplified into a single driving cause. The issue is complex and cuts across the topics of violence, environmental degradation, and democratic representation in the Niger Delta. These topics within the issue of conflict over oil encompass political, economic, and social histories where effects can be seen at the local, state national, and international levels. The conflict over oil is largely fueled by the financial interest of western Multinational Oil Corporations. With over 80% of the Nigerian federal revenue being supplied by oil exports to foreign countries, the US in the lead, it is not difficult to identify one of the driving factors of Nigeria’s oil conflict. The Chevron Oil Company has established itself as a formidable force within Nigeria’s oil fields, particularly in the Bayelsa State. Chevron and its partners have held a presence in Nigerian oil discovery and production since the Gulf Oil Company’s first off-shore mining in Okan conducted in 1963. In Bayelsa State there have been frequent kidnapping and attacks carried out by youth, citizens and militias unhappy with the environmental degradation and distribution of the oil wealth. Chevron, among other oil corporations, has been accused of exploiting local rivalries and ethnic differences as well as assisting the government in carrying out raids on communities hostile to Chevron’s presence. More recently Chevron has changed its position from one of suppressing local communities’ concerns to increasing development assistance and community investment. The effectiveness of these new programs will help to determine the stability of Niger Delta region in the future as other Multinational Oil Corporations recognize the importance of engaging local communities instead of forcibly suppressing their growing concerns.

Tripartite Troubles: An Introduction

The quotations from the previous page refer to the some of the most horrific events related to access to the oil resource of the Bayelsa State of Nigeria. As with many conflict regions, the facts and statistics are far from absolutely accurate, but what can be deduced from these accounts is the terrible violence being committed against the Nigerian people by their own government forces backed by multinational oil corporations (MNOCs). Women are raped, children are murdered, and communities are leveled all in the name of the Chevron Corporation’s continued benefit and that of the Nigerian federal state.

The oil resource has developed into an issue that is deeply rooted historically, politically and socially. MNOCs have been operating in Nigeria as far back as 1908. They have established themselves in communities and have become a driving force for the continued poverty, conflict and environmental degradation. Chevron’s relationship with local and national governments perpetuates conflict over the oil resource in Nigeria and destroys communities.

Price at the Pump: Death

The most well covered aspect of the Nigerian oil resource conflict is the ever-present violence. Since violence is what makes the story for most media outlets that is all the majority of the world thinks when they hear about oil in Nigeria. Since 1999, large-scale conflicts in the Niger Delta have been between ethnic groups, government soldiers and security forces. A recent World Bank report even goes so far to say that protests in the Niger Delta are being, “transformed into something more akin to American gangland fights for control of the drug trade.”

In Bayelsa, a state of emergency was called from December 1999 through January 2000 where 240 people were killed in clashes between Ijaw youth and Nigerian government forces. Four days before the state of emergency was called in response to the killing of six police officers, federal troops entered the town of Odi. The destruction that followed was comprehensive and severe. Many civil rights groups contend that the Odi ‘massacre’ represented the Nigerian government’s determination to control the three oil wells and be, “a signal to other restive oil communities of the wrath that awaited them should they fail to ‘make things smooth and easy for the oil companies’.” The invasion ‘was for oil and oil alone.’ In May 1999, a group of Nigerians filed a lawsuit against Chevron claiming that the corporation had used government military and police to fire on peaceful protestors as well as kill four villagers. Twenty-four Chevron workers repairing an oil pipeline on the Benin River were kidnapped in 2000 by heavily armed youths. A cycle has developed with the increase of violent suppression by MNOCs and the responses of communities and militias to remove Chevron’s influence.

As a response to the increased violence the Joint Task Force (JTF) was created to stabilize the Niger Delta region. Because of the Niger Delta’s importance, producing nearly 80% of the federal government’s revenue, the JTF was created as a direct national interest to protect the MNOCs from further attacks. However, the armed government soldiers of the JTF are often accused of using “heavy-handed” tactics that result in unnecessary death and destruction. An Amnesty International (AI) report stated, “[…] security forces are still allowed to kill people and raze communities with impunity.” This has caused people to start advocacy and activist organizations to combat the abuses. One such group, the Niger Delta Women for Justice (NDWJ) has organized over 1000 multi-ethnic women and the Ijaw Youth Council in a protest march to deliver a letter to a military leader. The letter was a protest against the ‘military occupation,’ human rights abuses, and rape and assault of women in Bayelsa State. Human Rights Watch (HRW) reported in 1999 that, “no fewer than 34 women were apprehended by the soldiers, stripped and beaten in the open.”

The protests and actions by community groups as well as local militias have been many and are a direct result of Chevron’s disregard for local communities. Unfortunately these actions bring brutal repercussions. The year 2002 marked what seemed to be a second major upswing in community actions as a group of women took over the Escravos tank farm in July, effectively making Chevron’s operations impossible followed by the takeover of 4 swamp flow stations. In May of 2007, protestors took over an oil field in Bayelsa State and the Movement for Emancipation of the Niger Delta (MEND) bombed three oil pipelines, disrupting the flow of 100,000 barrels. Just in 2007 there was a long list of kidnappings. An American, Four Italians and a Croat were kidnapped for a month in May from an off-shore Chevron facility in Bayelsa, four US oil workers were kidnapped from a barge near the Chevron Escravos export terminal, twelve people are freed after a month in captivity in Bayelsa State, and more recently the son of a Bayelsa State government official was kidnapped this year from the Bayelsa State-owned Niger Delta University. As a result of these kidnappings and community actions ChevronTexaco froze nearly all of its assets as increased violence left over 100 dead and up to two dozen villages destroyed.

Chevron, like many MNOCs, plays on the local ethnic rivalries. In the case of Bayelsa State Chevron has lent development support to the Itseriki people and not the rival Ijaw.

“Not too long ago, Chevron was accused by the Ijaws of supplying weapons to the Itsekiri and by the Itsekiri of giving money to the Ijaws to buy weapons. […] In the Ilaje community of Ondo state, the American oil giant Chevron procured and flew in armed soldiers who came down very heavily on defenceless peaceful demonstrators who had occupied their Parabe oil facility. Two youths were shot dead and several others injured in that operation that was supervised and directed by Chevron. The Chevron public affairs manager admitted to American journalists that they called in the soldiers and that the protesters were peaceful.”

Chevron has a history of supporting violent intervention by government forces that will quell civil unrest in response to their corporate irresponsibility. Chevron’s relationship with the JTF and other Nigerian military units comes as no surprise since Chevron has long been involved with the numerous military regimes to gain access to the oil. At a meeting that was supposed to include community members and oil corporations Carwil James, Oil Campaigner with Project Underground, a Berkeley-based human rights organization which has supported Niger Delta communities in their struggle for environmental justice, spoke on Chevron’s absence, “Chevron is clearly much more comfortable behind military guns than face to face with the communities it affects.” A communiqué issued by the meeting’s participants called Chevron’s absence “a continuation of the established tradition of transnational corporations treating local people and groups with disdain.” In 2003, after military security reorganization, a team of government troops (army & navy) intervening in the two week Ijaw-Itsekiri ethnic war that crippled oil production in much of Chevron’s Western Niger Delta base were reportedly using Chevron’s Escravos oil export terminal as a base for launching attacks.

“The oil companies, which hire private security firms to protect their facilities, often support such attacks. Chevron Nigeria (a subsidiary of Chevron Texaco), the leading US exporter of Nigerian crude, lent the federal government its terminal at Escravos and its helicopters, so that government forces could raid communities hostile to the company. The oil firms play on local rivalries. Chevron made the Itsekris, who have been vying with the Ijaws since the days of the slave trade, the main beneficiary of its development programme.”

So far the relationship between Chevron and local communities in Bayelsa State has been oppressive, abusive, and dismissive. Development funding has become a weapon in the Niger Delta to ensure conflict between communities, but that violence has increasingly affected the operations of Chevron.

The Military Had to Make One More

The name of Bayelsa State is taken from the acronyms of BALGA for Brass Local Government, YELGA for Yengoa Local Government, and SALGA for Sagbama Local Government. In 1979, the three local governments, formerly of the Rivers State, were combined into a Senatorial District for the purpose of the federal Senate elections. Because of the arbitrary creation of the name, Bayelsa is most often used by politicians and activists. On October 1st, 1996 General Sani Abacha publicly announced the creation of the State and helped to include more people in its usage. The name gained national and worldwide attention after “disturbances following the youth protests against the exploitation of oil resources, political marginalization, and neglect of the Niger Delta region by Nigerian governments and the multinational corporations extracting its oil wealth.” Located in the heart of the Niger Delta, Bayelsa State is comprised by a majority of Ijo people, who make up the predominant ethnicity in the Niger Delta. Bayelsa is now said to be, “a melting pot of Ijo communities, and a highway of contact among communities of Eastern and Western Delta, as well as up the Niger.”

Historically Bayelsa State, initially a region of Rivers State, was demanded as a way of acting on the fear that majority ethnic groups would dominate. The demand for a Rivers State was granted as a way to weaken the political power of the next Nigerian leader. With its creation, it was hoped that Rivers State would appease all regions, but it soon became evident that regions up-river benefited the most form social and economic policies. After a number of regime changes and subsequent demands for a new state on the basis of creating a region for Ijaw people, the Mbanefo Committee of Abacha’s regime approved the creation of Bayelsa State. The Committee recognized that the region of the Niger Delta had been much neglected by past and present state and federal governments and yet produced 40% of the nation’s wealth. It is important and interesting to note that the evolution and creation of Bayelsa State was strongly supported by high-ranking members of the Nigerian military. All of the current 36 States have been created under military regimes as a way to reward or appease various ethnic groups.

With a history of neglect and a founding based on ethnic and military power, it is no wonder that Bayelsa State has become a region of great conflict in regards to the oil resource. The ethnic difference and power structures have been exploited by MNOCs and now the greatest difficulty is bringing communities back together in order to foster development.

Germany, Gulf Oil, and Growth

Beginning of Oil / Development of Chevron in Nigeria
1895 – Oil seepages discovered by German expedition
1908 – Nigerian Bitumen Company of Germany began to drill boreholes
1937 – Shell Petroleum Development Company (SPDC) arrives as first MNC
1947 – First serious oil exploration
1956 – Commercial quantities discovered in Oloibiri
1964 – Gulf Oil Corporation oil discovery in Okan
1960s-70s – Chevron Nigeria Limited (CNL) oil successes
1985 – Chevron buys up Gulf Oil Corporation in Nigeria and Angola
1992 – CNL conducts updates on the Gulf Oil platforms
1996 – Increased oil production across Nigeria by CNL
1997 – CNL begins operating Escravos oil fields including export platform
2000 – Chevron merges with Texaco taking over all Texaco operations in Nigeria

In 1895 a German expedition reported oil seepages along the beaches of the western Nigeria coast. Later in 1908, the Nigerian Bitumen Company of Germany began to drill boreholes to assess the existence of petroleum deposits. The German oil exploration attempts were interrupted by the start of the First World War. The Shell Petroleum Development Company (SPDC) arrived in 1937 only to be stalled by the onset of the Second World War. The beginning of serious oil exploration was able to begin in 1947 and the first successful discovery of commercial quantities of oil came in 1956 in Oloibiri, which is in present day Ogbia Local Government of Bayelsa State. The Gulf Oil Corporation (now owned by Chevron) began oil operations in Nigeria in 1964 with its first discovery in Okan and became one of the top oil exporters in Nigeria. “Further ‘successes’ were recorded by a number of oil companies, including Chevron Nigeria Limited,” (CNL) in the 1960s and 70s. In 1985 Chevron bought up the Gulf Oil Corporation taking over all operations in Angola and Nigeria. In 1992, Chevron conducted updates for all Gulf Oil platforms and significantly increased production by 1996. In 1997, Chevron began operating the Escravos oilfields and began using the Escravos oil export platform. October of 2000 brought yet another bold move by Chevron as it announced the merger of the Texaco Corporation. With these expanded operations Chevron current has 40% interest in 13 oil concessions covering 2.2 million acres across Nigeria. The company holds 32 oil fields, 380 Texaco service stations, and employs 1800 Nigerians.

Chevron has become one of the top three stakeholders in the resource conflict of Nigeria’s petro-state. The only other corporations that control more oil production in Nigeria than Chevron are ExxonMobile and Shell.

Nationalization, Where Does the Money Go?

In 1971, Nigeria nationalized control over its oil reserves in an attempt to deal with the misconduct of MNOCs. In that same year Nigeria joined OPEC putting the MNOCs on the defensive. The lead up to a nationalized oil resource was prefaced by the 1969 Petroleum Decree which placed petroleum ownership completely in the hands of the state. The Nigerian government took over control of equity stakes in joint ventures with the NNPC’s (Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation) creation. The NNPC creates Joint Venture Agreements (JOA) with oil operators. The MNOCs are called operators, but the NNPC reserves the right to become an operator. The Joint Venture between the NNPC (60%) and Chevron Nigeria Limited (40%) is considered the second largest oil producer with roughly 400,000 barrels per day (bpd). CNL plans to increase production to 600,000 bpd.

The revenue collected by the Nigerian government through the NNPC is supposed to trickle down from the federal level to the states and therefore to the people, but this trickle is evident nowhere. “Political disputes over the allocation of oil money in Nigeria have led to sabotage of oil company equipment and attacks on their workers.” The distribution of oil revenue has fueled much of the recent conflicts. The amount of oil revenue has significantly risen from $250 million a year to well over $60 billion a year in 2005. During this increase in revenue and production Nigeria changed from a military dictatorship to a democracy, but those benefiting from oil revenues did not change. Military elites in the government have remained the primary benefactors of the oil industry. The International Security Group reports that a “cancer of corruption” has continued since the first attempt at federal government in 1999. The government, as the NNPC, lost its bargaining power with Chevron and other MNOCs because of its fiscal instability and its inability to cover its share of joint oil ventures. Because of the Nigerian government’s failure to meet the agreement, the oil companies’ disregard for local communities has been reinforced.

At the local government level oil revenues are highly contested. Often times this contest ends with local government’s not receiving revenue from the federal government, or local communities not seeing the results of those revenues as communities leaders sit on large sums of oil wealth.

Some ethnic nationality leaders argue that oil producing state governments should directly appropriate the hard currency generated by sale of crude extracted from their territories, and then allocate up to 20% to the Federal Government. Others contend that local, not state, governments should receive revenues from oil extracted in ‘their’ territory and then share it out among all villages under their authority.

In Nigeria at present, some 13 percent of monthly federal oil revenue goes to producer states through local government or through the Niger Delta Development Commission […]. Revenue sharing between local and national governments is problematic at the fiscal and the political levels. At the political level there are so many layers of government that tax collection and accountability are near impossible to uphold and regulate. As such, this makes the local government revenues highly volatile and uncertain.

From the perspective of most Niger Delta people, the MNOCs are the supreme authority and it does not matter as much what control a local government has or what revenue they collect. MNOCs are able to indirectly intervene in communities by way of vigilante groups, private militias, police, federal military, national and international NGOs. This has helped to create a type of ‘military/ war industrial complex’ in Nigeria’s oil producing states. One community stake-holder claimed, “I can easily mobilise youths I know to stir up trouble and put pressure” on MNOCs.

Descendents of ethno-social pressure groups, leaders assembling a followership around the identity of marginalised youth, development brokers, the staff of oil companies, ‘community development’ departments, and state officials strengthened their bargaining power vis-a` -vis the oil companies and the federal government between 1998 and 2003. They succeeded in challenging the authority of the petro-military alliance and its fragmented offspring.

Observers have noted that the business practices and indirect private governance in Nigeria has created a, “lucrative political economy of war.” While there is contention between states and local governments about oil revenue, the MNOCs have the last word.

Since there is no accountability at almost every level, corruption is found at every level in the Nigerian political system. “The head of Nigeria’s anticorruption agency estimated that in 2003, 70 percent of oil revenues, more than 14 billion dollars, was stolen or wasted.” Interestingly a Western diplomat referred to the issue of oil revenue distribution as, “institutionalized looting of national wealth.” In the oldest oil town of Oloibiri, the population has dropped from 10,000 to 1,000 in the past 30 years. There are many signs of abuse and neglect in Oloibiri and the town now stands more as a forgotten memorial with its signpost reading, “This is Oloibiri, the Goose that lays the Golden Egg.” “There are no roads, no hospital, no potable water and not a single modern industry.” Pollution has turned the surrounding creeks into oily and turbid dead seas. The town consists of thatch houses, shanties, dirt tracks and angry men and women (Akpan, 2004:5) Tom O’Neill of National Geographic reported from Oloibiri:

“[…] a dirt road passes between rough-hewn houses, some roofed with thatch, others with sheets of corroding metal. A small shop offers a few bananas and yams. Inside the only freshly painted structure, a lemon yellow, two-story house, Chief Osobere Inengite of the Ijaw tribe apologizes for the appearance of his town: “Oloibiri is supposed to be compared to Texas,” he said. “I ask you, in Texas have the people in 50 years seen one second of darkness? But look here, we have no light, no water, no food, no jobs.”

The chief looked prosperous. He was wearing an ornate black-and-purple robe, a chunky coral necklace, and a black derby, his outfit for a neighboring chief’s coronation downriver in Nembe later that day. Like most chiefs, Inengite has a business—dredging sand from the river for roadbuilding. He always keeps an eye out for visitors to Nigeria’s historic Well No. 1. He wants them to leave Oloibiri with a message for Shell, which owns the local oil fields. “Tell them to help us. Tell them to train 50 boys and girls from here for jobs,” the chief pleaded. Then he sighed, “If we had never seen oil, we would have been better off.”

Oloibiri remains with no electricity, no jobs, and no more oil from the 28 holes drilled in the area. The chief seems to be doing well possibly from past oil successes, but the town is far from prosperous. How has Nigeria’s oldest oil well, that produced so much oil revenue, fallen into a place that is devoid of any constructive development for the people of the area? Where does all the money go? This question echoes across the lips the communities of the Niger Delta. As the MNOCs begin to recognize that leaving communities in the dark leads to violent conflict and jeopardizes their oil revenues, the question remains where does the money go? Are the community development programs initiated in response to increased violence really focused on constructive engagement or just an appeasing handout?

Community Development: Appeasement or Engagement?

The idea of Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) has taken a strong hold in many MNOCs. This idea has taken such a strong hold that the Chevron Oil Corporation uses the tagline: “Chevron: Human Energy,” attempting to focus on the responsible side of their business and moving away from their focus on revenue production.

“Chevron takes its role as a member of the community in Nigeria seriously and is active in many projects promoting health, economic and educational programs.

Many projects focusing on infrastructure, health, education, power and clean water have been completed while work has continued on ongoing capacity-building programs to promote economic development. These projects include construction of teachers’ quarters, science classrooms and laboratories, classroom blocks, water boreholes, footbridges, and jetties. Other infrastructure development projects include the provision of drainages, dining halls, kitchens, covered walkways and power in some communities’ schools and hospitals to make them functional.

Chevron Nigeria Ltd. provides communities near its operations with power and drinking water, in many cases directly from company facilities. These are either stand-alone projects or are tied to existing Chevron facilities. In many communities, the company has also purchased and installed electricity generators, which the company also fueled and serviced.”

Chevron has had a policy of dashing (giving free) gifts to communities: a school building, a generator, a new road – but more often than not these projects are started and are left unfinished while the oil is pumped out of the community. Creating this ‘host’ community relationship was the first major response to local youth threatening oil platforms. As well as dashing projects, MNOCs handed out cash payments on demand to militant youths, which were later not spent on community development projects. Local leaders often sing the praises of these ‘development’ projects in order to look good for the federal government when the people of the community are the ones impacted the most by these uncompleted projects and invasion by oil MNOCs. Local leaders have become the proctors for development and this role has been formalized with regular stipends and other privileges making their flowery reports all the more necessary for their continued benefit from oil revenues. The youth have spoken out against this control by village elders and chiefs. Keeping the secrets of community benefits in contracts with MNOCs drives distrust among community members, especially between village elders and youth, who have become more militant.

In 2005, Chevron Nigeria said that it had, “adopted a new approach to our community engagement in the Niger Delta that was designed to create participatory development processes to better address the needs of the communities in our areas of operation. The new model is said, “to give communities greater roles in the management of their own development.” This notion is a quick reversal for MNOCs operating in Nigeria. A Shell official in the 1990s reported that more was spent on bribes than on community development projects. Until 2000, there was sufficient evidence to allege that the Chevron oil corporation had ‘wasted’ [given away corruptly] US$28 million for community development projects between 1990 and 1997.

With their history of supporting militias and supplying federal military groups to keep favor in various communities, a ‘decisive’ shift was taken from 2002 to 2004 in relation to the relationship between local communities and MNOCs. In that time period MNOCs exponentially raised their spending on ‘community development’ projects in order to gain ‘license to operate’ in the Niger Delta.

“Thousands of secondary and university students receive scholarships from oil companies each year. A row of national and international NGOs are engaged by the companies in order to implement programmes, conduct workshops and realise infrastructural projects. In a range of villages and towns, official and inofficial ‘development finances ’ from oil companies and the command over these resources are today one of the most important material foundations of power.”

This represented a radical shift, but one that may not be the most effective. Those involved in this exponential development investment were paid per diem in ‘substantial cash payments.’ Support for university scholarships was part of the major push in the community development. However, of the sixteen federal and state-owned universities in the Niger Delta, ‘none are properly funded.’ The primary and secondary educational infrastructure is ‘deplorable.’ So as community development is pushed by way of university scholarships, who is to benefit from these scholarships when those who may benefit do not have even an adequate secondary education? The Niger Delta Development Commission (NDDC) had said, after its creation in 2000, that its main focus was to build schools and other educational infrastructure. Akpan, who completed extensive research in the Niger Delta and Bayelsa State in 2005, saw no such development.

Local observers have actually called for an end to development aid in the Niger Delta because it ‘aggravates the struggle’ for government jobs and those that hand out payment for ‘facilitating’ development projects. Observers say there are no checks and balances, all the money goes to government agencies, and there is absolutely no accountability. In 2007, as part of its corporate social responsibility to host communities, CNL along with the NNPC, committed Naira 53 million to support human capacity building and micro credit schemes. These were said to support 15-month training programs to help communities in poverty alleviation programs. The idea is that people will be able to, “generate gainful self- employment or secure employment with established firms.” This is yet again a paradox of CSR and development in the Niger Delta because the MNOCs are leaving many of the communities as oil wells dry up and do not hire people from the communities where they operate. Unless there is a shift in the employment of community members this will be another wasteful program that will fail. Chevron and the NNPC also announced that 1300 students were benefiting from their universities scholarship scheme and from 2001 to 2006 over 5000 successful awardees had gone through university education. This is hard to believe with the current education system in the Niger Delta and the access to education of Niger Delta communities.

The models for community engagement are varied, but all have an ineffectual impact. Chevron has so far followed the standard model of Western development groups – throw money at a problem without really look into the best practices for community development or evaluating the effectiveness of that community engagement. Chevron’s varied programs include a notable riverboat ambulance clinic, but all other programs have not shown any real effects in the communities of Bayelsa State and the Niger Delta. MNOCs are working diligently to appear that they have CSR, but that CSR does not translate to anything worth noting at the community level, beyond the perpetuation of violence and more advanced exploitation of communities with oil by creating the notion of responsible development.

Conclude to Exclude

What would be the best relationship for the communities of the Bayelsa State in the Niger Delta of Nigeria with the Chevron oil corporation? If the MNOCs operating in the Niger Delta do not move away from an exclusionary policy in community development programs then conflict will continue. With the new shift in policies there have been good intentions, but ineffectual outcomes. The best option for local communities is if MNOCs are out of Nigeria, but that is not about to happen any time soon because the extraction and production of the oil resource requires such large and sophisticated operations. As a response there needs to be constructive engagement models.

The good intentions of MNOCs by way of micro-credit, scholarship, and health service programs need to do more than just be programs for Nigerians. CSR programs need to address the root causes of conflict in the Niger Delta and give Nigerians agency in their own community development. These programs need to have more than a mediating role between communities and MNOCs as a way to appease. In that same sense, multi-ethnic and multi-state community advocacy groups need to be strengthened to act as a watchdog for the Nigerian federal government as well as MNOCs. These groups need to be dedicated to community development that is beyond simple handout programs.

Ultimately there will need to be a strong tri-sector partnership between local communities, MNOCs, and the federal government. To promote positive community development, the federal government will need to firmly support democratic governance and accountability. Stronger democratic governance will allow the Nigerian government to check MNOCs and ensure the non-exploitation of local communities. Community groups need to demand this accountability from both its government and the MNOCs operating in their areas. With these tripartite checks in place the negative effects of the oil industry can be reversed and constructive community development models can be implemented.

Nigerians living in the Niger Delta, and specifically the Bayelsa State, have absolutely no agency in the development of their own communities. MNOCs come in and start programs and then leave them to fail. They create programs that do not address the underlying issues surrounding an exploited oil resource. The underlying issue is the disregard for people. Constructive development models would include a respect for the environment to ensure the health of the local community. Creating jobs for Nigerians that centered around the environment of their community by containing the harmful effects of the oil industry could employ a great number of people, cut violent conflict, allow people to make their own income, and give people ownership of a commodity extracted from their own community. In this same regard, a model based in the technology of the oil industry would give an even greater agency in community development. Growing the educational infrastructure of the Niger Delta, continuing to provide university scholarships, and teaching Nigerians to work in oil extraction and production fields at all levels (worker to administrator) can guarantee oil wealth owned and operated by Nigerians for Nigerians. This model will work especially well if there is a stronger democratic governance at the federal level.

Having Nigerians involved in the production of oil and environmental protection from oil will solidify the tripartite relationship and mandate constructive community engagements based on a model of accountability at every level. What most may see is a failure and conflict surrounding the oil resource in Nigeria, even a curse. However, while there may continue to be terrible consequences with the discovery of oil, there is also great potential for a reversal of negative effects when root causes are address and people are given agency in their own social, political, and economic development.

Works Cited:

Akpan, Wilson Ndarake. Between the ‘Sectional’ and the ‘National’: Oil, Grassroots Discontent and Civic Discourse in Nigeria. A Thesis Submitted in Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy of Rhodes University. Oct 2005.

Alagoa, Ebiegberi Joe. “Introduction.” The Land and People of Bayelsa State: Central Niger Delta. Port Harcourt: Onyoma Research Publications, 1999.

“Armed Conflicts Report – Nigeria (1990 first armed combat deaths).” Project Ploughshares. January 2007. .

Brown, Steven E.F. “Chevron venture to develop oil field off Nigeria.” San Francisco Business Times. 29 February 2008. .

“Chevron and Texaco Agree to $100 Billion Merger Creating Top-tier Integrated Energy Company [Press Release].” Chevron. San Francisco & New York: 16 October 2000. .

“Chevron Nigeria – Death and Devastation by Gunboat.” Amnesty International. 2007. .

“Chevron, Oil Pollution and Human Rights.” Africa Resource. 6 November 2005.
.

“Chronology – Nigerian Militant Attacks on Oil Industry.” Reuters. 15 June 2007. .

Dickson, Prince. “Son of Bayelsa State Deputy Speaker Kidnapped.” USA Africa Dialogue Series (Google Groups). 27 March 2008. .

Douglas, Oronto and Doifie Ola. “Defending Nature, Protecting Human Dignity–Conflicts in the Niger Delta.” in Monique Mekenkamp et al (eds), Searching for Peace in Africa. Utrecht: European Platform for Conflict Prevention and Transformation in cooperation, 1999: 337.

Eberlein, Ruben. “On the road to the state’s perdition? Authority and sovereignty in the Niger Delta, Nigeria.” Journal of Modern African Studies. Cambridge University Press, 2006: 573-596.

Ekundayo, Kayode. “Nigeria: NNPC, Chevron JV Commits N53m on Capacity Building.” AllAfrica. October 2, 2007. .

Ibeanu, Okey and Robin Luckham. “Nigeria: political violence, governance and corporate responsibility in a petro-state.” Oil Wars. Eds. Mary Kaldor, Terry Karl and Yahia Said. London: Pluto Press, 2007.

Ikelegbe, Augustine. “Engendering civil society: oil, women groups and resource conflicts in the Niger Delta region of Nigeria.” Journal of Modern African Studies. Cambridge University Press, 2005: 241-270.

Ifeka, Caroline. “Oil, NGOs and youths: struggles for resource control in the Niger Delta.” Review of African Political Economy. 1 March 2001.

James, Maxwell. “Making Oil Revenue Work.” The Daily Trust. 22 August 2007. .

“Joint Venture Operations.” NNPC. .

Kaldor, Mary, Terry Karl and Yahia Said. “Introduction.” Oil Wars. Ann Arbor: Pluto Press, 2007.

“Kidnapped Nigeria oil workers freed.” BBC News. 19 June 2000. .

Marquardt, Erich. “Intelligence Brief: Nigeria.” PINR. November 8, 2005. .

“Nigeria – Highlights of Operations.” Chevron. Updated: March 2008. .

“Nigeria – Chevron Operations.” APS Review Gas Market Trends. 8 August 2005. .

Odocha, JNK. “Organisations Must Serve The Needs of Communities.” NAPETCOR 2nd Quarter, 2002: 25.

“Oil and Violent Conflicts in the Niger Delta.” Eds. Charles Ukeje, Adetanwa Odebiyi, Amadu Sesay, Olabisi Aina. CEDCOMS Monograph Series No. 1, 2002: 17-19.

Okoko, Kimse A.B. and A. Lazarus. “The Creation of Bayelsa State.” The Land and People of Bayelsa State: Central Niger Delta. Ed. Ebiegberi Joe Alagoa. Port Harcourt: Onyoma Research Publications, 1999.

Omeje, Kenneth C. High Stakes and Stakeholders: Oil Conflict and Security in Nigeria. Ashgate Publishing Ltd: 2006. .

O’Neill, Tom. “Curse of black gold: Hope and Betrayal in the Niger Delta.” National Geographic. February 2007. .

Polgreen, Lydia. “Nigerian Oil Production Falls After a Pipeline Hub is Overrun.” New York Times. 16 May 2007. .

Servant, Jean-Christophe. “Nigeria: the young rebels.” Le Monde. 06 April 2006. .

Shelley, Toby. Oil: Politics, Poverty and the Planet. New York: Zed Books Ltd., 2005.

“US judge lets Chevron Nigeria lawsuit continue.” Reuters. 16 August 2007. .