VIII. Reflections

         VIII. Reflections

Not since sitting down some 18 days ago to write the first installment of this blog have I felt so stumped as to what I should be writing. At that point, I had no real idea of what I should be saying - what would be interesting to potential readers? Now, I almost can’t figure out how to order my thoughts into something resembling a coherent piece of writing. The purpose of this post is to provide some synoptic reflections on my experiences and the people and places I got to know. It’s divided into three parts: reflections about my trip experience, reflections about the work of the Centre des Arts, and reflections about the country of Senegal as a whole. 

Reflections on my trip 

There is no avoiding the fact that this is, in many ways, “the most insane thing I have ever done”, as I remarked to a number of people before setting out in July. Travelling to an unknown country, as a visible foreigner, without having previously met anyone who was going to be looking after me, was certainly a leap of faith. So prosaic as it might sound, I want to start by acknowledging my gratitude for the fact that everything did go more or less without a hitch. I made it back in one piece and without having caught malaria (probably, it may take a few more days to be sure…). Beyond this, I’m also grateful for the fact that I was well looked-after by my hosts. Both Marème and Marietou in Louga and also the team from the ABC Group in Saint-Louis gave me a warm welcome. This would be appreciated in any instance, but given the unfamiliar surroundings it was particularly important to me. 

The trip taught me a lot about myself - and what it means to take responsibility for my own wellbeing and safety. Although I never felt unsafe at any point, I had to continuously take stock of the fact that I was in an unfamiliar environment, especially when in public. This also leads me nicely to the culture shock aspect. In some ways, I was expecting it. There is no avoiding the fact that everything is just different to the UK. Social structures are different, attitudes are different, buildings and housing are different. In some ways, it made more sense for me to perceive my experiences as occurring in a different world - where it was necessary to abandon all the preconceptions or ideas of society that I am used to in the UK and instead view everything through fresh eyes and with a blank slate. Whether this is a fair attitude, I do not know. I’m sure that as I gain more experiences like this one my thoughts will develop. 

Lastly, it’s worth acknowledging that I also acquired myriad new IT skills, as I set out to learn how to use WordPress. Overall, then, the big takeaway for me is that this was an enormous learning experience - and so much the better, because that is ultimately what it was about for me. No-one changes the world in two weeks, and playing the hero helps nobody. Although I trust and hope that I made a positive contribution in delivering the website, this was ultimately about learning, not just doing. 

Reflections on the work of the Centre des Arts et Cultures Africains

One of the most gratifying aspects of my trip was learning about the work being done by the Centre des Arts - seeing them make a tangible impact on people’s lives. It was fascinating to hear about the hopes and aspirations for the future of beneficiaries and contributors alike. In a world where government is distant and the idea of a social safety net (that we have become so used to in Western countries) is nonexistent, it is private organisations and charities that have to plug the gap. The trip to the Réussir au Sénégal conference was an important reminder. 

Each plays their role, but the Centre des Arts’s role is about helping those young women who might otherwise be abandoned by society and who have had an incredibly difficult start to life build a future that will allow them to transition into dignified and stable work. 

There is no escaping the fact that it is difficult for small charitable organisations to survive in an economic climate that has pummelled them the world over. The Centre des Arts is far from immune to this - the simple reality is that they are not getting enough institutional support to be able to function properly. On the website, a donation page is linked. If you are able to give something - even a small quantity - then your generosity would be greatly appreciated, although of course there is no compulsion to do so because you have contributed in your own small way by reading this paragraph and the blog as a whole. In any case, 5 euros pays for breakfast for thirty disadvantaged students. 20 euros pays the daily salary of a teacher at the school, allowing the lessons to continue. 125 euros covers the running costs for the school for a day. All the money that you give goes directly to the good work the Centre des Arts is doing; I can vouch for that personally. No-one at the organisation has received anything resembling a salary for the past three months and Marème is burning through her own personal funds in order to keep the school open. Even though donations can only be claimed later, knowing that they are present allows her to manage her own finances better and plan for more developed activities, like admitting more children to the school, which is currently at only a quarter capacity. Better days will come, and I admire the hope and optimism with which she and her colleagues look towards the future, but whatever support can be lent now will go a long way. 

Reflections on Senegal: culture, society, economy

I’ve already touched on the fact that Senegal is very different to the UK on many fronts - a truism if there ever was one. Now, I’d like to elaborate a little bit on my experience of those differences. It’s important to emphasise that I’m not here to make judgements, or indeed prescribe some magic formula for development, but merely to give my own honest views on what I saw. It’s also worth pointing out that I was nested within one specific organisation, and that my experience is not necessarily representative of what broader society is like. 

The thing that really struck me is the level of flexibility and informality within structures. Formal 9-5 employment in the way that I am used to is essentially nonexistent. In many ways, people will simply work until the task that they want to do is more or less done, although breaks for lunch and tea are also greatly enjoyed. 

Building on this, the other big adjustment was the dominance of so-called “Africa time” - the perspective that timings and schedules are advisory at best. As someone who likes to keep time - strictly - this took a lot of getting used to. Ultimately there is no escaping the fact that these attitudes lead to reduced productivity. The economist in me would also point out that this lack of productivity combined with the costs associated with unreliable schedules make it incredibly difficult to foster a formal business environment, in turn condemning large swathes of the population to the informal economy and the instability that it entails. It is hard to save for the future if you are unsure of your income stream. Nonetheless, saving is crucial because, as by the Harrod-Domar identity and considering factor productivity changes to be negligible, it supports investment in both human and physical capital. Banks cannot give large scale loans if they have few small-scale private depositors. 

Moving back to the cultural difference in timekeeping, it must be pointed out that it is incredibly ingrained in society. Even the websites of government ministries have minds of their own, with registration portals for funding opening and closing seemingly at random. It’s hard for a society to break out of this unless there are large scale shifts in attitudes, which may be some way off. 

The locals in Senegal - and not just the ones I knew - were generally friendly. As a white person in a country where I saw at most ten other whites throughout the entirety of my trip (excluding the airport), I was always going to attract considerable interest. Many younger children in particular took pride in calling me a “toubab” (foreigner). Although I was equally faced with non-trivial levels of harassment from others, especially around money, this was also to be expected given the fact that the colour of my skin alone marked me out as being someone with money to spare. 

On paper, Senegal has a bright enough future. It is true that it is a firmly a lower-middle-income nation, comparable to Pakistan or Malawi. At the same time, an increasingly large workforce driven by favourable demography (for now) as well as a stable democratic system that is sadly lacking in many other African nations means that growth prospects are broadly positive. Daron Acemoglu and James A. Robinson emphasise the role of inclusive institutions and private property rights in promoting economic development in their Nobel Prize-winning work that led to a favourite book of mine, Why Nations Fail. The country can take considerable comfort from the fact that the basics, at least, appear to be solid (the country has a Freedom House score of 69/100, just enough to be considered a “free” country and a considerably higher score than nations with equivalent levels of HDI) . Democratic elections last March saw Bassirou “Diomaye” Faye, a left-wing insurgent, win the presidency after 12 years of government headed by incumbent Macky Sall. He had tried to delay the elections, a scheme that was ultimately stopped by the Constitutional Court and respected by the former president. 

A few glances at the television while in Saint-Louis means I can confirm that biting criticism of the government is indeed present (and quite popular, it seems). But in any case, if the government’s economic plans do in fact “show they’re making it up as they go”, then there is at least scope for someone else to try and do a better job if that is what people feel when future elections roll around. The “virtuous cycle” will assert itself and for that reason I’m confident that future prospects are bright. 

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read at least some of the blog, for following along. I expect this to be the last post, although I will of course stay in touch with Marème and the other contributors to the Centre des Arts. That work never really stops. If you have any other questions or comments, feel free to get in touch. Perhaps at some future point, this blog will be resurrected for a future trip, but that is a long way off in any case - so goodbye for now.