The Governance and Rural Infrastructure (G&RI) team in Ghana is currently asking the question: how do we overcome barriers to scale? G&RI has been working at the community, district and regional level in Northern Ghana to improve data and infrastructure planning capabilities to better meet the water, roads, education and healthcare needs of rural communities. Our model has been direct capacity development in District Assemblies. But with limited resources, this model limits our impact on Dorothy.

One approach we are taking is to partner with the regional government and donors to implement region-wide skill development trainings that align with the institutional systems at the district level. Two significant independent activities will take place at districts over the next 4 months: (1) Housing and Population Census; and (2) preparation of the district 4-year development plans. G&RI has made the link between the two in that to create evidence-based district development plans, districts need data. The census will be collecting data on population, education, health, water, and sanitation; all data required to effectively develop evidence-based plans.

This past week G&RI partnered with a World Bank project called the ‘Northern Region Poverty Reduction Project’ which operates in all 20 districts in the Northern Region of Ghana. Team G&RI (Shamir, Jody, Gato, Hasan, and Dan) facilitated a 3-day computer training program for all the planning and budget officers in the region. Our training program was a practical exercise on district planning and census. Modules included file management, data management, data analysis, district indicator selection, and presentation skills. All modules included actual data that officers use in the district.

A fun exercise that two of our team members Jody and Shamir facilitated was to take a bunch of paper documents and spread them across a table. Next to the table was a filing cabinet with organized files. Shamir was asked to look for the District water and sanitation data file. He scrambled across the table searching but could not find. At the same time, Jody opened the filing cabinet opened a folder for water and presented the needed document. One of the district officers, Akwesi, said at the end of the day “I didn’t realize how I was making it so difficult for myself to find information”.

So again, the big question - how can G&RI continue to find new innovative ways to move beyond the direct capacity development model at the district and scale-up our behaviour change model to all districts in Northern Ghana? One idea could be to hold a regional competition for the most innovative district data management/analysis system, and to develop regional standards and best practices. We will keep you posted, but please share your ideas.

During my placement, I have had family visits evenly spaced throughout the year which has allowed me to stay connected to home, which I so love, and has allowed me to share my experience with those I love. This post is about experiences with family in Africa.

Best Practices and Lessons Learned

• If you plan on visiting someone in Ghana, don’t send a care package 4 months before. You’ll arrive before the package.
• Sarcasm is a great coping mechanism for +40 degree temperatures.
• When bringing supplies of chocolate to Ghana, select the small Cadbury eggs with the hard shell.
• Beer does not hydrate you.
• If you’re an animal lover, don’t agree to help slaughter a goat, which happens to have the cutest laugh.
• Bug nets don’t help with bed bugs.
• 120V appliances don’t work on a 240V line.
• Never worry about getting ripped off on a tro (minibus), everyone on the tro has your back.
• When you go to a secondary school expecting to speak to a classroom of 30 students, plan to speak to the entire school of 800.
• When you visit a village for the first time, you’re an outsider. When you visit a village for the second time, you’re family.
• Always take the path less traveled. It may not seem the best idea at the time, but it always makes for better adventures.
• Take people outside their comfort zone. It’s scary but exciting and a great way to learn about yourself.

Hottest Night – Geoff and Christine – February 09

Near the end of Geoff and Christine’s trip, we headed off to stay with a community near Damango in the West Gonja District. I was living in Buipe at the time, and the Buipe Wura (chief of Buipe) had relayed a message to the Damango Wura, that three aubruni (white people) were on their way. Upon entering Damango we went to greet the chief who graciously offered us rice with fish stew. He loaded us up in his truck with lots of food and off we went to the community. In the afternoon we mastered the art of sitting around and hanging out. The kids were really curious about our guitars so we started playing music familiar to all. No, not Celine Dion, we played Bob Marley. That night we ate some T-Zed and palm nut soap with our host family before retiring to our quarters. Throughout the day, the scorching sun had relentlessly penetrated the metal roof of our room, turning it into a sauna. It was the hottest night I had experienced so far in Ghana. The three of us were in one room, Geoff and Christine on a double mattress and I on a cushioned chair. Half way through the night I woke to find myself on a sweat soaked cushion with my back twisted in ways it had never before experienced. Looking across the room I noticed that Geoff and Christine were enjoying the nights sleep just as much as I was. We all decided to take a couple of prayer mats outside to escape the heat. We hung our bug nets to anything we could find. The bug nets were draped more like a bed sheet rather than a protective covering. We made it through the night, and were more proactive the following night in setting up our bug nets outside in the light.

Hardest Working – Dave and Sara – March 09

Right when Dave and Sara arrived in Ghana, I put them to work helping me make the big move from the District office in Buipe to the Regional office in Tamale. The work didn’t stop there. My two friends from Buipe, Daniel and Yakubu, took Dave, Sara, my parents and I to their village for a couple of days. While the rest of us had fun, Dave and Sarah ploughed the fields and made yam mounds from dusk till dawn. When they arrived back at the village, they had to fetch water for the rest of us who were very thirsty. While at the village, we celebrated my 30^th birthday, and what better way to celebrate than with fresh goat. Yakubu found someone in town that was selling goats. Unfortunately for us, the demand was high and the supply was low. He gave Dave and me a price of 45 cedis and we wanted it for 35. Unlike a typical aggressive bartering interaction, we ended up sitting for 10 minutes in silence staring at each other, waiting for the other to budge. Finally we settled on GHc 40. Dave and I helped to slaughter the goat while Sara looked on. After slaughtering, Yakubu took a stick and entered the goat’s skin from the hoof, loosening the skin around the body. He then blew air into the goat between the skin and body, inflating it like a balloon. With the inflated goat over hot flames, it was relatively easy to remove the hair. That night, many in the community enjoyed a small piece of goat with fufu and light soup. What more could I ask for on my 30^th birthday.

Biggest Following – Mom and Dad – April 09

After 3 days in Mole National Park visiting elephants, crocodiles, and monkeys, my family headed to Yakubu’s village. With my mom’s spirit and my dad’s size, they attracted every kid in the village. My mom relived her childhood by getting a group of 15 kids to play ‘Simon Says’. She got every child to follow her directions without speaking a word of Gonja. Now that’s non-verbal communication at its finest! Standing 6 feet 5 inches, my dad was easily 1 foot higher than most Gonja men. The kids were curious and amazed by his height. They followed him around wherever he went, to the soccer match, to the borehole, to the shower, to the bathroom, to sleep. My parents had to close the doors and windows to get some privacy. Unfortunately that didn’t make for comfortable sleeping. Now my parents can rough it out with the best of them, but reaching 60 years and sleeping on a thin prayer mat with no pillow in +40 degree temperatures, wasn’t the most comfortable environment.

Most Exciting Ride – Luisa – July 09

During Luisa’s first week in Ghana, we decided to take the path less travelled between Accra and Tamale, on the east side of the Volta. After a week of beaches, mountains, and waterfalls, we had a day and a half to make it back to Tamale before I started back at work. On the map it appeared we were half way to Tamale, so we thought we were safe. Little did we know that the paved road soon turned into gravel, which soon turned into mud, which soon turned into one big adventure. Starting at 7am, we made our way from Hohoe to Bimbilla on shared taxi, two tro tros (mini-buses), and one pick-up truck with 15 people crammed in the back. We landed in a small village called Damanko at 7pm hoping to catch the last tro, but we were out of luck. With no guest house in the village, our only option would have been to kindly knock on the door of one of the thatch houses with a big smile, hoping for the best. Fortunately, it was market day in Damanko, and there was a big yam truck heading back to Bimbilla. We hopped on the top of this massive beast and sat on the metal frame that covered the back. Below us were bags of yams and other produce that had not been sold at market. The women sellers were sitting on the bags, pleasantly sharing stories and offering us bananas. It was a beautiful ride. We crawled along at a snails pace with maize crops and Baobab trees gracing the land. It was a full moon that night which illuminated the path, lighting up all of Ghana’s beauty. A trip I’ll never forget. The picture doesn’t do it justice.

Two weeks ago, I created a video in Burkina Faso for my parents 60th birthday. Accidentally I told everyone it was their 60th anniversary and they thought it was a miracle that my mother was able to give birth at the age of 55. I thought you would all enjoy. Cheers!”

Just last month, I caught wind of a guitar maker in Buipe, the town of 8,000 where I had been living for the past four months. My two good friends, Yakubu and Daniel, accompanied me to visit the guitar maker, Zachariah, who they knew from school. Zachariah has lived in Buipe all his life, except for a 2-year period when he was in Tamale, training to become a carpenter. After training, he came back to Buipe but could not find any work as a carpenter. His love for reggae music inspired him to utilize his carpentry skills for guitar making, a notable hobby if you ask me. This scruffy looking 22 year old with B2K T-shirt, stylish jeans and imitation converse all-star shoes, fits the very stereotype of a guitar maker. Although he is not able to play the guitar, he envisioned his design through studying music videos.

Buipe’s finest artisan

Unfortunately there is no money in the guitar-making industry in Buipe, but he manages to find random jobs working for a contractor as a painter and brick layer. Amidst the poverty in Northern Ghana, it is rare to find someone who embraces the arts, veering outside the standard carpentry activities of tables, chairs, and door frames, and into the artisan world of guitars, guitar bags, and walking sticks. He has only made five guitars, but he was excited to learn I was putting an order in for two. My only request was for him to teach me how to make a guitar.

Zachariah lives with is mother, Abiba, and brother, Razak. They live in a small mud hut compound, home of five chickens, two goats, three dogs, and a pile of scrap wood that he has collected over time.

Fine selection of scrap wood

Razak, who has become his apprentice, gathered the materials and headed over to the work bench under the huge mango tree which provided shade during the scorching 40 degree midday sun.

Shady spot under the mango tree

Zachariah took a piece of cardboard and folded it in half and then traced the face of the guitar. Carefully cutting around the traced lines, the unfolded cardboard yielded a symmetric face which was ready to be traced on the plywood. In order to cut the bottom and top piece of the guitar body, Zachariah nailed two pieces together before sawing around the traced shape. With one of the pieces of plywood, he took a compass and used it to find the centerline, and then used the compass again to trace the circular opening for the guitar face.

Where is that centerline?

He then took 8 vertical support blocks and nailed the top piece to the bottom piece. For the structural supports, he used wood from the Wawa tree. With that name, the wood was destined for greatness in the music world. To ensure the top and bottom piece were perfectly aligned, we walked to the nearby health clinic to find a 90 degree corner in the building. A piece of soaking plywood was then wrapped around the curved edge of the face and was nailed to the vertical supports connecting the top and bottom piece.

Wrapping plywood around face

After smoothing the edges with a razor and sandpaper, Zachariah applied the veneer using glue. He didn’t know the name of the wood used for the veneer but it was definitely of finer quality to the rough plywood. Once again, he took the razor and sandpaper and smoothed the corners, patched the rough spots, and performed the finishing touches to perfection.

Applying the veneer to guitar body

The following Saturday we tackled the bridge, fret board, and neck. Zachariah had a piece of wood for the fret board ready to go and shaped it to match the guitar he had envisioned. On a piece of paper he drew three designs for the neck and I chose the one that resembled a classical guitar. He traced and cut the piece and then used a chisel to dig out the openings for the tuning pegs.

Cutting the fret board

Once he nailed the two pieces together, he applied the veneer for the finishing touch. With the guitar body in hand, he carefully laid the fret board on top and screwed it in place and secured it with a vertical support. He used evenly cut slivers of wood as the frets and glued them into place. Thanks to my brother Geoff, the standard bicycle wires used for strings were replaced by 5 sets of Dean Martin guitar strings brought over from Canada.

Applying the veneer to neck

Finally looking like a guitar

The guitar was almost ready for its first strum when we ran into a problem. The tuning pegs used to secure and tune the strings comprised a piece of metal hammered into the neck with a wooden turning knob. With the new and improved guitar strings came the need for higher tension which the pegs could not support. And thus a design modification was needed.

The next morning I saw Zachariah at the Kokoo and Koshe breakfast stand. We sat down and started to brainstorms ideas to resolve the problem while eating the creamy porridge and deep fried breakfast goodness. He came up with the idea of using a nut and bolt system to firmly secure the strings in place. Brilliant! Knowing there would be more issues arising over the design period for building this guitar, I told him I would support a GHc 5 innovation fund for design improvements. With all six strings wound around the pegs, it was go time. But when we started to play, we discovered that the frets were uneven since six of the frets played the same note. This fine detail was typically performed by machine, but was now being created by a carpenter-turned-artisan, with only a chisel, saw, hammer, and razor. If the frets were only slightly off mark, it would affect the entire instrument. Zachariah worked long and hard to even the frets and finally found a balance that worked.

As he walked me to the road after a hard day of work, I asked him how much he was going to charge for one guitar. He gave me a price of GHc 8 which equated to $10. We then went through the total cost analysis of the guitar.

· Veneer wood – GHc 1

· Plywood – GHc 1.5

· Glue – GHc 1.5

· Neck – GHc 0 (uses scrap wood)

· Pegs for strings – GHc 1.5

· Strings (bicycle wires) – GHc 1 (replaced with real guitar strings)

· Trip to Tamale to pick up materials – GHc 2

Quickly summing the total it came to GHc 8.5, and this did not even include the three days of labour to create the fine piece of art. I tried teaching Zachariah the concept of profit and loss, but he didn’t seem too interested. I then strongly suggested that he take the GHc 15 from my hand.

I’m planning on giving one guitar to two of my friends Daniel and Yakubu, and the second to a pastor’s son, Matthew, who wants to learn and play at church. My grand scheme is to purchase a total of 5 guitars and start a guitar club to promote music and support a local artisan. I can see it now, the Buipe School of Guitar. Five classically trained Buipeons, playing the guitar. Another thought comes to mind that this beautiful guitar playing could replace the loud and booming dance music that plays in the community centre next to my compound three nights a week till 3:00am. Here’s hoping!

Check out the video of my village stay where I lived in a remote village for a week over the Christmas holiday:

My house in Buipe can be illustrated by the pictures below. I live in a nine room compound, each room with one entrance facing the central courtyard. The courtyard is the epicentre of activity where everyone cooks, cleans, socializes, and relaxes during scorching temperatures. All 15 residents share two bath houses and one toilet. Due to a lack of water in Buipe, I’ve been using a public latrine which rarely gets emptied. I’ve divided my room into two sections separated by a sheet, with my bed and mat on one side, and my desk and chair on the other.

This is my house and living conditions in Buipe

My home in Buipe can only be captured through the stories and pictures of the people who have welcomed me into their homes and the places which now hold many fond memories. I’ll try my best to share those with you.

My 4:00am alarm bell rings in the form of the Iman praying through the loud speaker in rhythmic Arabic tongue. I hit my imaginary snooze button and go back to bed. Being beside the main highway between Kumasi and Tamale, a large truck typically flies by at around 5:00am, and I awake suddenly to the loud roar of the gears shifting. Again, my imaginary snooze button is hit as a slump back down on my pillow. At 6:00am, my final alarm bell rings with the sounds of either goats shrieking or chicken’s crowing. Depending on the sound of the shriek or crow, I can tell if their day is beginning or their life is ending. All I know is that if it’s the latter, I’ll likely be enjoying a nice meal that evening.

Every other day when I wake, I go for a run to the river and back which is around 3km from my compound. Ghana does not have much of a running culture, but I think I’m starting one. Early in my run I pass by a school full of school kids who are waiting for a couple hours until school starts. As I run by, children start to join me one by one. As I continue running, more children start running beside me, some carrying school books, others carrying water on their head, still keeping up with me. The trail turns into a dirt road and continues with thick brush on either side. By this time, there are still 10 or so kids following behind keeping up with my rather large gait. Once we arrive at the river, the road comes to an end. I look at the children, they look back, and one by one start to walk away. I fell like I’m Forest Gump.

The view of the river half way through my run

My neighbour, who is currently building a new house, found a friend sleeping there one morning. The two meter long python was coiled in a small bundle, and was likely more scared of us than we were of it. The Gonja chief in Buipe said the python was not to be killed, even though they have been known to swallow goats hole. The morning after meeting the snake I went for a run by the river, likely the location where the python originated. I must have looked like I was doing a Monty Python funny walk, since I was constantly looking forward, backward, side-to-side, up and down, in and out - you get the picture.

A fun encounter in Buipe

When I arrive back in town, I always take breakfast from three ladies, Sadia, Sala, and Salanu, who make Kushe and Kooko at a local stand. When I arrive, I hand over my 10 peswes (10 cents) to Sadia and she passes me a bowl full of Kooko, and then I walk over to Sala who gives me 20 peswes worth of Kushe. I sit down on the wooden bench behind the ladies and chat with all the kids and adults who have come to share the same morning ritual as I.

Breakfast with Sadia, Sala, and Salanu

This is kushe and kooko. Kooko is a purified maize mixture which is fermented to perfection and saturated with sugar before consuming. Kooko is a bean batter with onion that is deep fried in an open pot of boiling oil. I eat them both together but have been known to take the kushe home to slather ground nut paste (more commonly known and peanut butter) and banana.

Kooko and Kushe

When I arrive home I do my morning push-ups and sit-ups (attempting not to fall below my already skinny state), have a shower, and then head to work. My walk to work is tough exercise, not in terms of cardio but vocal. Not only do I greet every person along the populated two kilometer stretch, but I greet everyone 10 times. Lante de nuso (how is your home), Kuesune de nuso (how is your work), edespe de nuso (how was your sleep), aduta (how are you). When they call out my name to get my attention they yell “Bruni”, meaning white name. I’m slowly starting to change their call to “Daniel”, meaning me.

The district office is a small, cramped, hot, concrete building. Since Central Gonja is a new district, they are in the process of constructing a new district office. Construction was supposed to finish last year but funding problems have delayed the completion date. Thus, we are stuck with 25 people using 9 desks cramped into 6 partitioned areas. Most of my time is spent in the office but about a fifth of my time is attending workshops, field visits, or training sessions which I will go into more detail in a later post.

My office in Buipe

During the evenings, I arrive home around 6:30pm and sometimes help to prepare dinner. Kadijah, the woman of the household, is an amazing cook. I’m starting to really enjoy her fufu and t-zed. My favourite dish, featured in the picture, is light soup with guinea fowl, and eaten with fufu. This dish reminds me of Christmas dinner. The fufu is pounded yam which reminds me of mash potatoes. The guinea fowl reminds of chicken because it essentially is chicken but a little darker meat. And the light soup reminds me of gravy since it contains the fowl drippings, and is thickened with this lovely tasting bean that resembles a sunflower seed. Sometimes we’re lucky enough to get beef. Back in December, a cow was sacrificed during Sala. I went to visit the chief’s palace in the morning and got to experience this joyous occasion. As I was leaving, the butcher said “Bruni, come here”. I thought I was in trouble since I was snapping away with my camera. He ended up giving me a big slab of beef. I didn’t really know what to do with it, so I walked the one kilometer stretch home carrying this exposed slab of beef.

Preparing and eating Guinea Fowl with my host family

Sala Celebration

My workmate, Mansa, who has become my closest friend here in Buipe is the gender desk officer and a district engineer. She is good friends with the pastor of a baptist church just a 5-minute from my house and I have become quite good friends with the pastor as a result. Every Sunday when I’m in Buipe, I attend the church service which is held under a metal roof (no walls) and dirt/stone ground. It’s a really comfortable and welcoming atmosphere. Word got to the pastor (I’m guessing through Mansa) that I sing and play guitar, so I’ve performed the past two Sundays. The only songs I could think to play were Hallelujah (Jeff Buckley) and Till Kingdom Come (Coldplay). Not really religious songs, but ah well.

Sunday Church at the Baptist Church

That’s my typical routine in a nut shell. Over the next couple of months, I’ll share stories that spice up this routine adding flavour to my experiences here in Buipe.

Ghana is divided into 10 regions which are further delineated into districts. Districts are governed by an assembly which comprises elected assembly-people from electoral areas within the district. Musah Zakaria is the assemblyman for the Mankpan electoral area in the Central Gonja District where I am working with the local government to deliver improved public services. To better connect with the beneficiaries of our work, I spent the Christmas holiday with my friend Musah and his family in Mempeasem, a small fishing and farming village off the White Volta.

The 5:00 a.m. alarm bell rang in the form of 20 chickens proudly exercising their audible strength. Before the sun had risen, the men were preparing for a day in the field while the women busily swept the debris gathered on the dirt ground from the previous day. The entire family headed to the farm together and I followed closely behind Musah for the three kilometre trek. By mid-afternoon, the blisters on my tender hands were starting to pop from digging up harvested cassava and shoveling new mounds for the next growing season. I sat watching for a while, and felt discouraged that I didn’t have the stamina to keep up with my African counterparts. Musah saw the look of frustration on my face and said “Would I be efficient working behind a computer all day long. We all have our different strengths.”

One day, I followed Musah as he traveled to four of the sixteen villages in his electoral area which he visited on a weekly basis to stay connected. We first crossed the river by canoe to visit a fishing village which the previous year had flooded, destroying half the houses. At the time, the district was not responding quickly and the World Food Program had delivered two months worth of rations but had suddenly stopped. In response, Musah took the homeless villagers into his village, filling ten to a room and feeding them even with his food stocks running low. Their school, which had also been flooded, was being re-constructed by the district on the opposite side of the river on higher ground. The community was expressing concern about transporting all the school children across the river without enough canoes. Musah intently listened to their problems and said he would take their concerns to the District Assembly, but not making any promises.

Musah and I hitching a ride from a local fisherman

Throughout the day, every person we passed would call out “assemblyman” and every time he attentively walked over to hear their complaint or grievance. One man’s daughter was very sick but had no method of transporting her to the clinic 50 kilometres away. At every village we visited that day, we would greet every household. I soon discovered that if Musah missed a household on a visit, he would get an earful the next time he came by. Being used to my private Canadian lifestyle, at least in comparison, my patience started to wear thin. But Musah kept on going like the energizer bunny. But he did stop at one pointing and asked “How can I continue to work under these conditions”. It was then that I found out he did not get paid for his services as an Assemblyman and was only provided with a one speed bike to travel from village to village. It was a slow mode of transportation and often broke down.

On my final day I got up at 6:00am and helped Musah to gather dirt for his new house. Recovering from a bout of malaria, he took the shovel and aggressively started ploughing into a new layer of compacted dirt which felt like a rock to me. After he finished three rounds with sweet beading down his face, he looked up at me from behind the pile of dirt and said, “how do people like me in these conditions survive without determination?”. I froze and thought to myself how this ‘village stay’ was an experience for me, but was life for Musah. He was farming with no fertilizer, no tractor, nor any other agricultural input besides seeds; performing assemblyman duties with no bicycle and no pay; and living in a village with no borehole, no latrines, no electricity, with the closest health centre 50 kilometers away. But still Musah had the determination to persevere through these many challenges.

After a week’s stay, I said my goodbyes to the village, biked two kilometers with Musah to the dirt road where I hitched a ride with a Fulani man in the back of a pick-up truck nestled between two cows. As the truck drove away I looked back at Musah who was enthusiastically waving goodbye in jumping jack fashion with a big smile on his face. Now that was truly a man of the people, and not just his own people, any stranger who passed his way.

Current Water Situation

In Canada, rarely does a critical service like municipal water fail. Redundancy is built into the design to ensure standby equipment is ready when the active equipment fails. This is not the case in the Central Gonja District of Ghana where I am currently working. Two kilometers outside the district capital, Buipe, a broken-down water system lays dormant, flooded in water.

Flooded Buipe Water System

Located in a geologically suitable location, this borehole can yield up to 500 liters per second. One submersible pump transfers clean drinking water to an overhead tank close to town which provides the pressure necessary for piped connections at fifteen locations spaced evenly throughout town. Since July of 2008, the Buipe town water system has not been functioning. The system was damaged beyond repair from extreme flooding during the rainy season and the 10,000 villagers have been utilizing other wells and boreholes in the interim. These sources are now drying up as the middle of the dry season approaches. Villagers are drinking water straight from the Black Volta River, or small dams that hold stagnant water all year round.

Borehole being used by the community until it runs dry

Guinea Worm

Guinea worm thrives in open stagnant water, and villagers who drink this water have a higher chance of swallowing the guinea worm egg. Once inside the human body, the egg finds a home to rest. A couple of months later, the egg hatches and the worm starts its journey through the body. At around four months, the victim starts to feel sharp pains where the worm resides. Eventually, the thin 2-foot long worm penetrates the skin and pokes its head. It is slowly removed with the hope that it comes out easily and in one piece. If the worm wraps itself around vital arteries, the disease can be fatal. But more often than not, the painful disease renders the patient idle for three or four months, normally around harvest time. If subsistent farmers are unable to work their fields, it is likely they won’t grow enough food to meet the basic dietary needs of their family, thus continuing the cycle of poverty that caused the guinea worm to occur in the first place.

UNICEF I-WASH Project

A UNICEF project called I-WASH is currently operating in the district and has the goal of eradicating guinea worm in Ghana, which is one of five countries in the world that has yet to do so. The Northern Region is the guinea worm epicenter of Ghana, home to 95% of all recorded cases, and the Central Gonja District has the most recorded cases in the region. Activities range from gathering baseline data, supplying endemic communities with ceramic filters, promoting community-led total sanitation (CLTS) initiatives, and hiring dam guards to ensure villagers are filtering the water.

Restoring the Water System

Representatives from the district and regional governments, a local engineering consulting firm, and UNICEF were brought together to resolve the Buipe water problem. We met at the borehole location and started to discuss feasible technical solutions. It was energizing to be part of a brainstorming session with local water experts who were articulating technically-sound solutions. My experience with water projects at CH2M Hill in Canada proved useful. I was familiar with the engineering design, procurement, and construction terminology that was being used and was able to contribute ideas. I was surprised at how similar the processes were to Canada. At the end of the meeting, we decided on a two-phase approach. The first phase was to immediately repair the generator, flush and disinfect the borehole, and replace the pump if inoperable. These were the essential tasks to get the system back up and running. The second phase and long-term solution was to relocate the control panel and generator to higher ground across the river, and to raise the borehole to an elevation above the flood level. A nearby village had not witnessed a flood of this magnitude since the 1960s and we used this info to ascertain the flood to be a 50-year storm. The team was satisfied that raising the borehole to this height was an acceptable design basis. Not exactly following the scientific rigor I’m used to in Canada, but was the best use of available data.

Technical brainstorming session with local water experts

With the technical solution established, I thought the wheels were in motion to execute the agreed upon action items. Development reality struck me hard at that point, as it was apparent that the previous delay in refurbishing the water system was not from a lack of technical solutions but the lack of political or donor will. UNICEF was willing to fund all aspects of the refurbishment except the electrical supply including generator and re-connection to the grid. At the same time, the district was not willing to release what little it had left in its internal budget, which had been ear-marked for other projects. The local Buipe Water Board was supposed to collect user fees from residents, but the level of supervision and management only supported enough funds to pay for minor repairs and not major system overhauls. UNICEF was looking for commitment and ownership from the district, and the district was looking for more support from UNICEF. Neither party at the table was willing to budge, nor likely having to drink water directly from the dam. Only those whose voices could not be heard were likely in that predicament.

Woman collecting water from the nearby open dam

Moving Forward

It is a common for donors to prefer funding new infrastructure which can easily be captured in a ribbon cutting ceremony or photo which can appease decision makers from above. Retrofitting and maintaining existing infrastructure does not receive this same prestige and glow. Operation and maintenance is typically left in the hands of the district government which does not have the money or institutional capacity to make the systems function. A culture of maintenance is required at both the donor and government level to ensure the full utilization and effectiveness of existing infrastructure.

I am confident the wheels are now at least rolling to get the Buipe water system back up and running. The director of the district has taken it upon himself to resolve the issue. However, it is still an uphill climb and will likely take another four months until issues get resolved at which time the peak of the dry season will have passed and villagers will have had to persevere through an entire dry season with poor drinking water. An entire dry season that they will be more susceptible to guinea worm, the one disease the project is aiming to eradicate.

Landing in Accra

At the airport in Accra, I am greeted with a blast of 36 degree air and surprised to find most people wearing suits and holding blackberries. After getting settled at the guest house, I head to the centre of town for dinner with the three other EWB volunteers. Stepping out of the taxi, I realize I’m two inches from the open sanitary sewer that lines both sides of the street. Yikes! We head to a popular restaurant for some fried rice and chicken smothered with garlic and ginger sauce. After taking a couple of bites of this tender meat and amazing food, I am quickly told that the standard food in a Northern Region village will be quite different.

The next morning, I head to Tamale which is the capital of the north. Once on the bus, I try to put my bags in the overhead compartment. The conductor rushes over and tells me not to block the air conditioning. I comply but grin at the logic of putting the only source of cool air in the overhead compartments which are blocked by bags. As we leave, the driver smirks and announces that “the departure time is 7:00am, but the arrival time is unknown”.

Leaving Accra, the city sprawls for miles with endless one or two storey buildings. Most houses have either brightly coloured concrete walls with tin roofs or mud huts with thatch roofs. Markets are bustling with people preparing their stands for the day. People are already taking rest on benches under trees from the +30 degree heat. Garbage is strewn all over the place and there doesn’t seem to be a solution for the mass of plastic bags that have replaced cloth bags previously used at the market. Even water is sold in plastic sachets which you bite off the end to drink.

The main highway from Accra to Tamale is well paved, with pockets of construction. From my observations, there is no rhyme or reason to the sequence of construction, with cars flowing like water around the construction activity. It’s a free-for-all with cars driving close to excavation sites which suddenly drop 20 meters with no shoring for support. I count on the fact that someone has tested the soil for safety.

The Dry North

As I head north on the highway between Accra and Tamale, the scenery turns from verdant forests with tall trees to low-lying shrubs and sparse drought-resistant trees. The humid air turns into a dry heat with a rasping wind caused by the harmattan from the Sahara. The south of Ghana is more affluent, predominantly Christian, and more green with two rainy seasons. The north is very economically poor, predominantly Muslim, and is extremely dry with only one rainy season between May and August. Many development projects in Ghana target the north and Tamale is the development epicenter for many international donor organizations.

Entering Tamale, there is one main road which is the same highway that connects Accra to Burkina Faso in the north. On this road is the market and bus station which is in the centre of town. The roads are filled with taxis and SUVs, the SUVs being owned by government officials or donor organizations since there is little commerce in town. Most government buildings and donor offices are located off the main road in quieter and secluded areas, away from the hustle and bustle of the daily merchants and market dwellers. Pedestrians, cyclists, and motorcycles all share the pedestrian-only paths. Pedestrians have to actively listen for the sounds of motos to avoid getting winged on either side. I get excited knowing I’ll soon be riding a motorcycle for my placement.

Market Experience

The local market has a fine array of clothes, slaughtered goat, and toiletries; sometimes all within the same stand. From my experiences in South America and India, I am used to the aggressive nature of people forcefully trying to sell you something. A merchant approaches and I am fully ready and prepared to react. He asks if I want to purchase a watch from his selection. I aggressively say “No! Thank-you!”. He looks at me, turns around, and walks to the next potential buyer. He didn’t even put up a fight. Wow! I’m also later told that most merchants will give everyone the standard market price, even outsiders. My whole perception of markets in economically-poor countries is completely turned upside down.

My first task at the market is to buy a nice pair of shoes. Volunteers coming to work in Ghana typically wear backpacker clothing with nicely polished Teva sandals. Their Ghanaian counterparts are typically dressed to the nines with the latest fashion of Italian shoes, dress pants and nice dress shirts. I am bound and bent not to come across as a ‘backpack volunteer’. I look everywhere but can not find a pair larger than size 10. A vendor tries to convince me that a size 10 shoe will fit my size 13 foot and he proceeds to squeeze my foot into the shoe. After taking one step and feeling like I’m wearing high heels, I thank him for the service and try another place.

Moving on to the dress pant and dress shirt category, I look around and notice that the local style includes shirts that are three sizes too big and dress pants that are pleated and hemed. Before leaving Canada for Ghana I did a purge of my clothes which had been accumulating since Grade 7. In Grade 7, baggy cloths were in style and at the time I had the grand idea of purchasing clothes 5 sizes too large so that when I was in high school they would be a perfect 3 sizes too big. Recently purging and changing my wardrobe was a result of those close to me strongly suggesting (more like forcing) me to achieve a fashion-neutral state. Fashionable would be pushing it for me. Aha, now who’s laughing! I was apparently in style in Ghana. Now I have to buy a whole new wardrobe of baggy cloths to fit in.

Images of the Market

Cultural Experience in Tamale

Giving up on buying shoes, I ask someone selling CDs if they know any local musicians. They direct me to the Tamale Cultural Centre where I meet someone outside who is involved with a local drum and dance group. I ask if the group has a guitar player, and he laughs. Just for the record, two days earlier in a taxi, I was serenaded by a taxi driver singing along to Celine Dion and Shania Twain songs. Cheesy 80’s music and country music seem to be very popular in Ghana.

Inside the cultural center, the auditorium was dark with no lights. Three people practice an African dance along with one hand drum. They appear curious as to why this white man is sitting in the doorway. I break the ice by introducing myself and they quickly warm up to me and offer to show me a couple moves. The local dance I learn is called Kpalugo which has some intricate foot work. It looks like the dancers are floating in mid air. I, on the other hand, trip over my feet and at times almost fall over. Don’t worry, by the end the year, I’ll have it down pat.

Politically Charged in Ghana

I wake up one morning in Tamale and walk outside to enjoy an omelet sold at the local stand, the only dish that reminds me of home. Something feels different this morning. I look around and for the first time take notice of the beauty of this town. My attention is then drawn to the ground which has been cleared of the piles of garbage that normally catches my eye.

On this day, the President is in town campaigning for the election to come on December 7^th. The town has decided to pay its street cleaners to tidy up the town for the president. The apathetic workers, who typically do not do their job since they never get paid, were insured a $1 wage for a morning of work. “Nana for President” is on billboards everywhere as the country prepares for elections. There is also tension in the air, as people are on edge at the potential of conflict. The Northern Region of Ghana is known to be a politically volatile area, but all signs are pointing to a peaceful election. There have only been a few isolated incidents of violence and murder in town, but not enough to raise alarm. Groups of peace activists have been parading around Tamale pleading for a peaceful election.

Election Parade

Speaking with a politically charged local man from Tamale, I find out that during the previous election, there was conflict and fighting in a town called Yendi which is 30 km east of Tamale. The military was brought in and the town was put under strict curfew. Home to the paramount Dagomba chief, Yendi is known for its palace and interesting fusion of Moorish and Sahelian architectural syles. Families within this tribe have been vying for power for hundreds of years. Since independence in 1957, which marked the end of British rule, the dominant families in the tribe aligned themselves with different political parties and the selection of the chief for the tribe coincides with the presidential elections. Previous elections have aroused this internal tension within the tribe.

This is the first Ghanaian elections with Presidential candidate debates. The first debate was held in Accra and the candidates were flustered and did not know how to act on stage. The second debate was in Tamale during my first week and I went to a local restaurant with other EWB volunteers to watch the debate on television. I shared my thoughts with some local Ghanaians that debates are a great way to see how the potential leaders react, quickly formulate ideas, and delivery a response to difficult questions. Speaking further on the recent U.S. presidential elections, I find out that Ghanaians are extremely pleased the U.S people elected of Barak Obama for president. From my few political discussions in Tamale, people view Obama as an African man and display a strong sense of pride. A local reggae artist, Blakk Rasta created an Obama song which can be downloaded at the following link.

http://truepanther.com/mp3s/03%20Barack%20Obama%20Crunk.mp3

Right from the start, there was a mixed atmosphere of curiosity, questioning, excitement, and nervousness. Ten EWB volunteers were meeting in Toronto to embark on a journey in Africa, ready to take on the challenges of development.

EWB breeds a culture of learning, critical thinking, and action. A fine balance between the three is a recipe for effective development. Without learning, we maintain a narrow focus and are unable to expand our minds and see the big picture. Without critical thinking, it is difficult to get to the root of a problem and understand the intricacies of complex systems and the implications of decisions. Without action, there is no impact. It is great to dream up and analyze possibilities, but if they cannot be tested and put into action, there is no progress. During the training, we dove into these concepts and learned a way of thinking and not what to think.

On the second night of training after a full day of workshops, we were given our first homework assignment which was based on a multi-functional platform (MFP) case study. An MFP is a platform that supports one motor which can drive a number of different processes related to agricultural production. EWB had previously partnered with a local non-government organization in Mali on this United Nations Development Program (UNDP) project.

The two facilitators, Levi and Robin, had sent us an email with the assignment. We were to provide recommendations on a proposed evaluation and monitoring tool which would be used to gather information from the field to plan for the project’s second year. Background documents were also emailed which totaled around 450 pages. We were given the night to read (more like skim) through the documents, understand the project, develop recommendations for improving the evaluation and monitoring tool, and develop a strategy for how to present our recommendations to the director of the local organization in Mali. We worked until 1:30am sifting through the data, and forming ideas for improving the tool.

The following morning, we arrived to training at 8:00am, to find both Levi and Robin dressed in traditional African attire. They introduced themselves with a Malian accent, there best attempt at least. Levi was playing the director’s role and Robin was the assistant director. They sat us down and wanted to hear our ideas, which we proceeded to share. By the end of the meeting, we were exhausted. Not only did we have to try and organize our recommendations into coherent sentences after getting only 5.5 hours of sleep, but also had to accommodate a director who insisted on being spoken to first, and an assistant who was persistent on the technical aspect of the evaluation being weighted higher since the social indicators were hard to quantify and were not important.

After the session we had a debrief and discussed the dos and don’ts of meetings in Africa. Levi shared with us his actual experience since he was the EWB volunteer who was working in Mali with the partner organization. His depth of knowledge and insight into the workshop made it that much more meaningful.

This is just a small taste of the training which lasted a whole month.

Our final session of the month was with Parker (Co-CEO of EWB) and he left us with some wise words of wisdom. It’s a relatively popular prayer, and very relevant to the work we do overseas. “Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference”.

It’s November 7^th, the night before leaving for Africa. I gather with friends and family to celebrate the release of my band’s new CD titled “Everybody, Okay”. Saying goodbye to so many of the people I love was emotionally tough. But afterwards I felt very peaceful knowing that as I depart on this trip for a year, there are so many people that support what I am doing.

Chebsi-ra (to bid farewell in Dagbani, one of the local languages in the Northern Region of Ghana)

- Dan

The whole EWB team heading overseas