The boy grew up as one of 8 siblings, in a windswept village
far away from the capital. While he went to school, he also had to work in the
father’s carpentry. To supplement income, the family owned 3 cows.
Two sisters died, as teenagers, from Tuberculosis.
Another sister was taken out of school – although she was doing well - because
she had to help with household chores.
When they had the choice, the majority of the villagers opted for building a
church, not a piped water system. Diphtheria occurred.
Sanitation was inadequate. Progress arrived when the newly built school offered
the use of shower rooms against a small fee.
The government created ethnic divides and started wars. One brother died as the
result of the violence. Massive displacement occurred.
Between the wars, the country suffered an economic meltdown.
During the boy’s lifetime, the family had to build their livelihood from scrap
twice, and the country went through four dramatically different governance
systems.
It seems UNICEF would have to run its whole gamut of interventions, for quite
some time.
But now, the family enjoys an enviable health care system, universal education,
peace and prosperity. And you figured that this is not a story from Afghanistan,
Iraq, or a country in Africa. These are some tales from my family which we were
trying to document during our summer leave.
I am not naïve to assume that what works in one country will work in another.
But haven’t you noticed a conspicuous absence of historic references in
programme documents and advocacy materials? And as we are busy developing ever
new models and frameworks for development, I wonder whether there is anything
that we can learn from history?
(22 October 2004)