It is common for skeptics to question whether we can actually achieve the Millennium Development Goals set by the world back in 2001. In the midst of the current economic downturn, many are even more concerned about the efforts leaders would put in to further the progress that has already been made.
So, we were refreshed in a recent post we saw, ‘Freeing the entire human race from want’, by David Steven from Global Dashboard. Steven effectively challenges the skeptics and points out that the outlook is not as grim as people have imagined – genuine progress has been made, even in the face of global recession:
‘The Great Recession largely spared the developing world (so far at least) and, far from slowing down, the decline in poverty accelerated. According to the GMR, the headline target – halving the proportion of people living in poverty by 2015 – is not just going to be met, it’s going to be smashed.
In 1990, 41.7% of the world’s population lived on less than $1.25 a day. That’s dropped to 25.2% in 2005, less than five percentage points above the 2015 target of 20.9%. By 2015, the IMF and World Bank project it will be down to 14.4% – a reduction of nearly a third.’
But what about the clichéd argument that once we take China and India out of the equation, progress towards poverty eradication is negligible?
‘At this point, it’s more or less obligatory to point out that this is all down to China (with a small contribution from India), and that ‘real’ poverty – in Africa – hasn’t been touched. Except that’s not the whole story.
China has seen an astonishingly rapid progress – poverty was down almost fourfold by 2004, and is projected to be cut 12.5 times by 2015. India is also seeing accelerating improvements and is projected to have reduced poverty by more than half by the target date.
But Africa isn’t expected to do as badly as many people think. Its poverty rate was 57.6% in 1990, had fallen to 50.9% in 2005, and is projected to be 35.8% in 2015. That’s still ten percentage points above the target, but if attained, it would be far from an abject failure (180m fewer Africans in poverty in 2015 than would have been the case with no reduction in the proportion of the poor).’
Of course there will be challenges and much depends on policy decisions made by developing countries, but encouraging success stories suggest that rapid progress is possible.
‘much will depend on the nature and quality of growth that is generated, and whether we will continue to see the worrying divorce of income growth from human development (health, education, gender, etc.).
The GMR has an interesting box on poverty in Brazil, which was one of the most unequal countries in the world in 1990, but has seen both growth and a sharp decline in inequality since 2003:
The 1990s marked the expansion of social safety nets in Brazil. Public social expenditure, including conditional cash transfers such as the Bolsa Família, targeted to poor families rose from 17.6 percent of GDP in 1990 to 26.0 percent of GDP in 2008—an increase of almost 50 percent in education, health, housing, and social security. Recent evidence suggests that this increase in social spending and better targeting contributed much to reducing poverty and inequality.
The Bank and IMF believe that these policies took an additional 17.5 million people out of poverty, bringing the absolute poverty rate down by 9 percentage points more than if inequality had stayed high.’
He goes on to argue that there is no reason why progress wouldn’t continue in the future. Not only should we continue to strive to achieve the MDGs, further commitments also need to be made.
‘In 1990, there were 1.8 billion poor people (in a world of 5.3bn people). If the IMF/Bank projections pan out, by 2015, there’ll be 882.7m poor people left (in a world of 7.3bn). That represents real progress in both relative and absolute terms.
Here’s a thought. In the debate about what should succeed the MDGs, one obvious option is simply to extend the current set of goals and focus harder on the challenges facing the 15% of the world’s population that will still be below the poverty line in 2015.
If poverty does indeed fall by a billion between 1990 and 2015, then there’s no reason why it shouldn’t fall as fast over the next fifteen years, even as the global population grows by another billion. In other words, having halved absolute poverty, leaders could commit to abolishing it by 2030.’
In his conclusion, Steven argues that the world’s leaders should live up to what they have promised in the Millennium Declaration:
‘In the Millennium Declaration, the world’s leaders described the world’s central challenge as ensuring “globalization becomes a positive force for all the world’s people” and promised to “spare no effort to free our fellow men, women and children from the abject and dehumanizing conditions of extreme poverty.”
They were committed, they said, to “freeing the entire human race from want.”
With poverty in retreat, I think we should be doubling down on that commitment, and moving from halving poverty by 2015, to ending it by 2030. It’s a stretching target, especially if contagion from the economic crisis finally hits developing countries, and especially as the last of the poor will find it hardest to escape from poverty.
But it also seems to be a target that could be achieved.’
With news on the cuts of foreign aid and the cancelling of the Global Fund’s Round 11 of grant-making, this is an important reminder to all of us of the incredible progress that has been made and that the achievement of the MDGs is very much possible.
The high street represents the realm of the female.
Steely-faced mannequins ooze attitude, mimicking the throngs of self-made style queens passing below. Fashionistas, Super Mums, high-powered businesswomen, savvy hipsters, you name it – even the retail brand directors and global buyers are women. Across the 8 years of my career as a buyer I never worked on a floor with more than 10% of employees being male.
And amongst the hordes of relentless, image-hungry consumers, flitter the next generation. These ever-younger females seek to emulate the mass of images broadcast at them every day – suggesting that to be a success is to be a beauty. To be a beauty one MUST have style. To have style one MUST shop. And what does any woman worth her salt know better than to shop?
Yep us ladies sure rule the high street. This is today’s modern society, where to be female is to communicate power and freedom through our personal interpretation of the trends of our ever-deepening jungle. We pick our tribe and represent it daily through the clothes we choose to wear. We support our faltering economy with feverous solidarity. Queens of the shops, rulers of our domain; we walk to the beat of our own drum.
But there is an irony that escapes us on an almost daily basis. There is a glaring inequality that has been born almost entirely out of the female pursuit of equality over the past 100 years.
The irony that a huge proportion of the garment workers involved in the 46 billion pound a year British fashion industry are, in fact, women. Underpaid, exploited, harassed, and discriminated against, women. They suffer unspeakable violations of their human rights, making products that will be bought religiously on the other side of the hemisphere, by other women.
The cruel truth is that very few people actually benefit from this anxiety provoking 21st Century condition. The economy appreciates the increased purchasing fundamentals and the government enjoys its now increased rate of 20% VAT from each transaction. The business owners and shareholders of the largest retailers can find themselves in the top percentile of rich lists, although the industry is so notoriously fickle even they are running into hard times.
But what of the individual consumers like you and me? Weighing down our precious wardrobes with burdensome items that are incredibly hard to dispose of, but often never worn after the season in which they were bought. For myself these purchases have often made up for 80% of my closet. Do I feel better when I buy them - yes. Does the feeling last, contributing to an increase in my quality of life - sadly, no.
And what of the individual producers like Moni, a woman the same age as myself?
Moni and I share some similarities. We are both women in our early thirties. We enjoy spending time with our family and friends. We often wonder what life would be like had circumstances been different. We feel nostalgic about our distant youth. We aspire to be greater than we are…
Moni started supporting her family at the age of 14. I spend my money as I choose. The longest day I ever worked was 13hours, usually 9. Moni works 18hour shifts regularly and begins her day at 5am. Maternity leave is standard in my workplace. Moni was not entitled to maternity leave. Instead her managers would shout obscenities at her or threaten to fire her for needing the bathroom. I receive a living wage directly into my bank the last day of each month. Moni has no guarantee she will receive her wage if business has been slow. Moni and her family’s only shelter is a fragile shack in a slum that is often flooded, where one toilet is shared between 90 people. My tiny one bed in Tufnell Park is warm and cosy.
A Cambodian garment worker is carried to an ambulance after fainting at a factory in Phnom Penh. Photograph: Samrang Pring/Reuters
OK you get the picture. But it’s not a comparative thing as my beloved boyfriend often tries to tell me. It’s true that Moni is more resilient than I am due to her circumstances. She is undoubtedly capable of working longer hours than I am. She can survive on much less money than I can and would be far more stunned by luxurious clothes, cars or restaurants. But even Moni is aware that the conditions in which she works and lives ARE disgraceful. Not just by our standards, but by hers also. Bangladeshi workers have been revolting against their humanitarian hardship since 2006. Even in their comparable standard of living – this is totally unacceptable.
So why are women funding this frenzy? Why are we comfortable exploiting vulnerable women; women suffering the same discrimination we faced ourselves in this country only 100 years ago?
When we pull on your jeans/ jeggings/ treggings tomorrow, let’s spare a second thought to the worker who stitched them, who, like Moni, works so hard to create the clothes we desire so badly. And let’s hope that for all her hard work and dedication, she’ll be able to feed her family tonight.
Add your name below to hear more about how you can take action to promote more ethical purchasing decisions.
As we’ve shown over the past few weeks in our “More than Money series”, there are many different sides to extreme poverty besides just a lack of money. This week’s topic goes even further beyond the tangible issues of health and education and focuses on the issue of gender inequality.
If you’re a girl growing up in extreme poverty in a low-income country, you are at a severe disadvantage from your female counterparts in richer countries. The inequality gap is much larger between men and women in these poorer countries, providing very little opportunity for the female population to see their capabilities realised.
As a girl living in extreme poverty, you are more likely to:
• Have a lower education. 53% of the 67 million children missing out on school are girls, and according to the Global Campaign for Education UK, there is not a single country in Africa that sends more than half its girls to secondary school. And despite the knowledge that a child born to a mother who is able to read has a 50% better chance of surviving past the age of 5, two-thirds of the 759 million illiterate adults are still women.
• Marry younger. Since girls living in poverty are more likely to quit school earlier, or get no education at all, they are often married off much younger so they are no longer seen as a burden on their family. This means that currently 1 girl in 7 in developing countries marries before the age of 15 and 38% will marry before they’re 18 (Girl Effect).
• Have children younger, and more of them. Just as girls marry younger because of leaving school earlier, they also begin having children sooner. In developing countries, 14 million girls aged 15-19 give birth each year, meaning one-quarter to one-half of girls in these countries become mothers before the age of 18 (Girl Effect). Furthermore, the majority of African countries have a crude birth rate in the range of 30-40 per 1,000 people compared to 13 in the UK and 14 in the US (World Bank).
• Earn less wages. With lower educational attainment for women in developing countries, it’s obvious that they would make far less money than men who often have more years of education. But even for educated women in the workforce, there are only 117 countries that have equal pay laws and women still earn 10-30% less than their male counterparts (UN Women).
• Acquire a deadly disease like HIV/AIDS. The World Health Organization estimates that 60% of the people living with HIV in sub-Saharan Africa are women. Women in developing countries are overexposed to the virus because of the occurrence of older men (who have numerous sexual partners) having sexual relations with younger women, the higher prevalence of violence against women and forced prostitution, and gender-related barriers to accessing preventative services, amongst other things.
• Die during pregnancy or childbirth. For girls and women in developing countries, pregnancy and childbirth are currently among the leading causes of death and disability. 99% of the 358,000 women who die of complications during pregnancy or childbirth each year live in developing countries, where only 63% of births are attended by skilled health workers (White Ribbon Alliance).
Is this the fate we want for our daughters and sisters? Of course the answer is no. So why do we allow this to happen to millions of women in the developing world? You can support organisations like the Girl Effect (who made the video below that many of you would have seen before) to help bring justice to these girls and women around the world who deserve an equal chance in life.
This was originally posted on the Daily Beast and is reproduced with the author's permission. Julia Lalla-Maharajh was volunteering in Ethiopia when she came across the scale and impact of female genital cutting. She subsequently won a YouTube competition to appear at the World Economic Forum in Davos, to discuss the issue with world leaders. Following that experience, she set up the Orchid Project which aims to see a world free from female genital cutting by 2025.
In Africa, female genital cutting is being abandoned—an unexpected result of an innovative program that promotes community-level problem solving. Julia Lalla-Maharajh reports from The Gambia
I found it hard to believe what I was seeing and experiencing. I kept sitting straighter, concentrating harder, unable to reconcile my thoughts with what was happening in front of me.
Sitting in the front row of a square, amongst over a thousand others, I had pride of place. Around me, women were dressed in bright colors, the sunlight fierce on their faces. I was in The Gambia to bear witness, to come the closest I have yet, to female genital cutting and the communities who have practiced it for decades, even centuries. The heat pervaded, the insistence of the drummers grew louder as performers leapt, sang, and enticed the crowd. Around me, young girls sat, fidgeting, nervous. I too felt nervous.
A young girl listens while her mother attends a meeting to eradicate female genital mutilation in the western Senegalese village of Diabougo on September 10, 2007. (Credit: Finbarr O'Reilly / Reuters)
But not because I was about to witness a graphic act of cutting. Instead, this joyful ceremony was actually marking the end of the practice of genital cutting. People had gathered together to celebrate the fact that from that day forward, their daughters would not be cut, would still be married, and most importantly, that they themselves had chosen this path.
The energy of the occasion was incredible. Colors swirled as people danced to affirm their commitment; speeches were brief and poignant, talking about change; women spoke—some for the first time in their entire lives, in front of a gathered audience, their dignity and pride apparent.
For me, the most incredible sight was the former cutters dressed in long red shifts, swaying briskly into the center of the square to the rapid beat of a drum, carrying leafy branches. They danced, then stood in front of the crowd and explained that they now were aware of the implications of female genital cutting, that it brings health problems, that there are many difficulties. The woman who was the spokesperson held out a calabash, a hollowed out gourd traditionally used to hold the cutters' instruments. Now, ceremonially she put it down in front of them, on the ground. Bringing her foot down with a stamp, it shattered and she held her hands out to the crowd:
"We are no longer going to practice this. We are no longer going to practice this."
People responded. Around me were religious leaders, elected officials, youth groups, village elders, the police, a representative from the government's Women's Bureau. As villagers from the host community, Sare Ngai, performed a play about child marriage and FGC, everyone leaned forward in their chairs, entranced.
Communities themselves identify what no longer serves them. In this way, the changes made are sustainable and owned.
This was so different from the last year I had spent, trying to raise awareness about FGC and its scale and impacts. One year ago, almost to this day, I left the World Economic Forum in Davos, having exhorted attendees and the world's listeners to "End FGM Now"—my outrage was apparent and passionate. YouTube voters sent me to Davos in a competition that asked for a human rights abuse to be showcased. I set about trying to find out what was really happening at the grassroots and community level and was amazed at what I found—which is why, today, I am in Senegal to witness the remarkable impacts of over 5,000 communities declaring that they want change.
So how does this change happen? The theory is simple: what unites us all is a common purpose to uphold peace, unity, and safety. These moral norms are shared by people all around the world. In the communities where the African women's empowerment group Tostan works, the first question asked is, what do you aspire to? Invariably, the answer is peace. The next questions are around issues that might threaten that peace—not only externally, but also from within a community. Participants, both women and men, young and old, work with a community facilitator who explores human rights and what this means in reality.
This is the start of a three-year program that covers democracy, human rights, problem-solving, hygiene, health, literacy, numeracy, and management, to name but a few. Ending FGC was in fact an unintended consequence of the program, but now, over 5,000 communities in 6 African countries have abandoned it. Fundamental to the change is that women find their voice and have a safe space where they can explore their human rights and their responsibilities; equally important is that they learn how to put these sometimes intangible concepts into practice.
Once they learn about basic rights to health and freedom from harm, people themselves start to question their own behaviors. They speak with one another and discover the stronger links between, for example, female genital cutting and tetanus—if you don't know your daughter has died from tetanus, because you've never understood that there are invisible germs that lead to an infection that can take hold two weeks after an initial wound, would you necessarily relate the two?
Knowledge really is power. What is so powerful is that communities themselves identify what no longer serves them. In this way, the changes made are sustainable and owned.
Quite simply, the construction of a social norm (say, FGC) which has existed for centuries to uphold a moral norm (say, that every daughter must be married for her own protection) is seen to be no longer valid. It might once have been, but given what is known today, it is no longer acceptable. Once a community grasps this, it moves very quickly towards abandonment and declares its intention to no longer cut girls. The declaration is vital, not only because it is public and witnessed, but also because other intra-marrying communities are involved. Thus everyone knows that a girl will be uncut—both the prospective husbands and their families.
For me, this concept is so successful because it works with ultimate respect for the community involved and addresses the issue at the root. Sustainable change only happens when there is an understanding about what motivates communities in the first place. If we start from the basis that every parent wants what is best for their child, then we are in the right place. This was the first and most important lesson that I learned that shifted my understanding of FGC. It is this understanding and deep respect for communities, for their right to choose how to make decisions that will affect their lives, that is making a difference in thousands of local communities.
At this very moment, we have a chance to say that we are the last generation alive to bear witness to and experience female genital cutting. If this can be taken to scale and resourced and implemented across all the countries where it is practiced, we will no longer need an annual day to express our international concern. We will no longer need to use statistics to call the world's attention, statistics that somehow mask the reality of the pain of our girls and our women. I, for one, long for that day.
I later had a conversation with Saikou Jallow, a pharmacist and health worker from the village of Sare Ngai. He spoke with such thoughtfulness and dignity about his decision not to cut his daughter. I realized that what had been offered to him was true empowerment—the decision he made allowed him to reach for a higher good - one of peace and well-being for his child. Surely that is all we ever want? As I left him, I clasped his hand and said "jaarama"—thank you, in Fulani. "Yes,"he said, "thank you, thank you for coming to see. Make sure you tell people."
Tuesday March 8 is International Women's Day. In celebration, here's a post from Global Poverty Project team member, Julie Cowdroy, which was originally published on the ABC Drum.
This week we celebrate 100 years since the first official International Women’s Day (IWD). Women celebrate the constitutional rights, civil liberties and privileges that are enjoyed today. We reflect and applaud the women who navigated their way through the last hundred years.
One example of improvement for women in the West over the last century, is in the area of maternal health. Up until 1920, high maternal mortality rates occurred in the US despite improvements in access to health care and antibiotics. Yet major reductions in the Maternal Mortality Rate did not occur until the achievement of women’s right to vote.
Similar political struggles for women are still occurring around much of the world. Achieving women’s rights has not been easy, and in fact on a global level, there is still much to be done. Globally, women still suffer disproportionately to men. Women make up approximately half the world’s population, yet two thirds of those who live in extreme poverty are women. Women perform two thirds of the world’s working hours, yet only earn ten per cent of the world’s income and less than one per cent of the world’s property.
However the problem should not be measured or described as purely an economic one. While estimates by the United Nations suggest it would cost $83 billion to achieve gender equality, naming a price can underestimate the complexities of the issues. Economic solutions for women can achieve some results, but as we observed in the US, the issue of women’s marginalisation cannot be addressed only with money.
For instance, Sri Lanka has managed to halve its maternal deaths since 1935 even thought Sri Lanka only spends three per cent of Gross National Product (GNP) on health care each year. On the other hand, India spends five per cent on health care, yet Indian women are eight times more likely to die in childbirth. Sri Lanka is seeing improvement due to higher education and literacy rates, excellent monitoring and data collection through a strong civil registration system and an effective functioning health care system in rural areas. All of these factors come from a strong political will by the Sri Lankan people, themselves.
In his best-selling book, Half the Sky, Nick Kristof quotes the journal Clinic Obstetrics and Gynecology:
“Women are not dying because of untreatable diseases. They are dying because societies have yet to make the decision that their lives are worth saving.”
When considering how women’s rights can be achieved globally, it is important to be reminded of the complexities of our own development history. Development in other contexts will not just happen with a step-by-step process, a “tick the box” plan, or with a whole lot of capital or economic growth. Poverty reduction for women is not just about an increase in resources, it is about removing the barriers that inhibit access to these resources. Local cultural and political factors can limit access, but so too can international institutions, rules and norms – or put simply, political will at the international level.
Improvements are possible when the international community champions global rules and institutions that strengthen gender equality, such as increasing the number of women in decision-making roles in the health sector. Real progress will be made when both local and global actors work to support women’s greater bargaining power and control at a local level. Positive examples can be found in the Top 10 Maternal Health Highlights in 2010 report issued by maternal health campaign organisation, Women Deliver.
IWD 2011 provides us with the opportunity to celebrate the rights and privileges we enjoy in Australia today, but also provides us with the chance to reflect on why women remain the most marginalised group in the world, and what we can do to rectify that.
