Challenge: give each paragraph a multiple of seven words.
Once upon a time, rock stars were selfish. Then they decided to sing for causes. Now rock stars are noble. Through Live8 and similar events, rock stars have eked out a promise from our powerful governments: 0.7% of our income must fight poverty. This is war, evidenced by bombardments of drums and firings of powerful lyrics.
Once upon a time, our governments were selfish. Then they gave up and listened to the rock stars. To them, 0.7% is more of a guideline than a goal. The best weapon against activity is bureaucracy: promise the 0.7%; show that wheels are in motion; spin everything your own way. The 37 years since the 0.7% promise was made prove that bureaucracy works. Rock stars have no weapon against subtlety.
Once upon a time, nobody knew how to fight poverty. Then the industry discovered itself. Brand recognition is a weapon against terrorism; foreign investment is a local employment strategy; innovation drives competition. What next, patents?
Once upon a time, nobody knew anything about Africa except that it is full of poor people. Then we invented the Internet. Now, nobody knows anything about Africa except that it is full of poor people. Ample information lies ten seconds away.
The information is: the truth is dirty. It takes less than half of that 0.7% to steer African countries down whichever course rich countries' leaders desire. Iraq reconstruction and Israeli guns count as foreign aid, contributing to the G8's 0.7%
(which, as the rock stars will point out, currently stands around 0.3%). The USA, hardly alone in this practice, plans to subsidize American farmers with a budget over three times larger than its foreign aid budget—the same foreign aid budget which forces recipient countries to remove barriers to trade.
I knew all this before I arrived. Apparently I can still be shocked, though. In a village, I made a friend who is roughly my age, studying in the equivalent of grade 8. He was laughing as he scrounged up enough money for his lunch ($0.85), stating that most Western cows get paid more than most African people. I knew this particular fact already; but I was so shocked by its accuracy I had to bite back the words: how did you know that?
Most Tanzanians do not know that. Common wisdom here is that rich countries are bad and selfish; but to every individual, that manifests itself in different ways. Tanzanians with electricity, for instance, notice this year's 21% price hikes and enormous installation costs; the intricacies of IMF
and World Bank
are mysteries best left to rich-country economists. Kenyan farmers notice that they are being undersold by American food; they likely miss the irony that it was both subsidized and bought by the American government.
Canada is not exempt from this flavour of selfishness. Our most recent AIDS funding in Tanzania was possibly related to human rights abuses by a Canadian gold mining company which independent observers have been unable to investigate.
Everywhere in Tanzania, I see poor people and money. There is no bridge between them. The 0.7% idea hearkens from a well-intentioned vision of utopia. In the real world, that 0.7% does not work.
Maybe cause-hungry rock stars should switch tactics: instead of begging governments to invest 0.7% of their money, why not convince fans to invest 0.7% of their time? Spend 61 hours this year doing something about poverty. Spend it however you like. Heck, just spend 61 hours looking up information with Google. I am trying to inspire you by writing bold claims and no references; check my facts. Figure out the links between donor countries and their donations' recipients. Ask questions. Find answers. Challenge people. All it takes is your 0.7%.