In defence of poverty alleviation
Local stakeholders and the generation currently in schools will ultimately assume ownership for economic development.
Those who cannot do, judge. The recent pronunciation by the Cabinet’s Economic Coordination Committee — nullifying a decade of poverty reduction efforts by the Pakistan Poverty Alleviation Fund (PPAF) — is maddening proof.
The sweeping dismissal is based on the premise that poverty levels have increased since the Fund was established. This fails to account for a host of exogenous factors that have battered the local economy, from war to earthquakes to the worst floods in recent history. While it is fair to demand tangible indicators of the organisations’ success, it is equally fair to demand that demographic change; political volatility; years of conflict; foreign intervention; and natural catastrophe be factored in when assessing its contribution.
The PPAF was formed as a public-private organisation, channelising resources for development on a national scale. It functions primarily as a facilitator — a local ‘bank’ disbursing funds to 87 partner organisations, working in almost every district of Pakistan. The original idea was a good one — combining the outreach of a government sponsored organisation with private sector credibility that donors could buy. The idea has not decayed over the last 10 years. Its autonomous nature means partner organisations are still screened according to transparent criteria, free from the nepotism associated with government organisations. Being a large apex organisation, it could not entirely escape the culture of red tape, but still operates quite fast to mobilise funds in times of crisis.
When ministers criticise it, their accusations ring hollow. It takes incredible gall to say that $1.2 billion dollars dedicated to poverty reduction strategies have gone to ‘waste’. It would be too cliche to talk about the dollars that have been siphoned by hungry government officials. Instead, it is apt to mention that expenditures have been tracked and are associated with a large number of projects having the specific objective of sustainable economic growth.
A second criticism at the Committee’s meeting was that the PPAF does not have a single holistic strategy for poverty reduction. It would be convenient to have a neat, overarching plan for a place where the economic situation is never static, and a diverse set of problems exists in each individual province. In practical terms, there cannot be a single overarching plan for development, period. The World Bank has been trying variations of the one-size-fits-all approach since the 80s, on a much larger scale, with even less success. Instead, the Fund’s approach has been to work with organisations having community outreach in specific areas, so that interventions can have a participatory dimension and be followed up locally on a long-term basis.
That is more than can be said about government efforts at conceiving a grand solution for absolutely everything. By now, even the Planning Commission knows that it may plan with pure intentions, but implementation — well. Implementation can happen only if the brilliantly comprehensive and academic strategy passes through the layers of approval, before there is a regime change scrapping all previous policies. A plan that does not respond to a practical situation can stay locked forever in a dusty drawer in the federal capital, and the people it is meant to affect will be none the wiser.
One reason why the results of the $1.2 billion did not immediately become visible is that the Pakistan Poverty Alleviation Fund and its partner organisations have been investing in people. It is local stakeholders and the generation that is currently in schools who will ultimately assume ownership for local economic development. To strengthen them takes a little bit of time, but since they are going to be around for a while, they are worth the effort. Kamran Akbar, Chief Operating Officer of the PPAF, put it quite beautifully at the closing ceremony for a recent training session held for community activists and entrepreneurs. Turning to the white board, he wrote the phrase “Hast-o-lud” which in English means “is and was”. I think the point he was trying to make was that there cannot be dependence on something that might or might not materialise.
Published in The Express Tribune, February 11th, 2011.
The sweeping dismissal is based on the premise that poverty levels have increased since the Fund was established. This fails to account for a host of exogenous factors that have battered the local economy, from war to earthquakes to the worst floods in recent history. While it is fair to demand tangible indicators of the organisations’ success, it is equally fair to demand that demographic change; political volatility; years of conflict; foreign intervention; and natural catastrophe be factored in when assessing its contribution.
The PPAF was formed as a public-private organisation, channelising resources for development on a national scale. It functions primarily as a facilitator — a local ‘bank’ disbursing funds to 87 partner organisations, working in almost every district of Pakistan. The original idea was a good one — combining the outreach of a government sponsored organisation with private sector credibility that donors could buy. The idea has not decayed over the last 10 years. Its autonomous nature means partner organisations are still screened according to transparent criteria, free from the nepotism associated with government organisations. Being a large apex organisation, it could not entirely escape the culture of red tape, but still operates quite fast to mobilise funds in times of crisis.
When ministers criticise it, their accusations ring hollow. It takes incredible gall to say that $1.2 billion dollars dedicated to poverty reduction strategies have gone to ‘waste’. It would be too cliche to talk about the dollars that have been siphoned by hungry government officials. Instead, it is apt to mention that expenditures have been tracked and are associated with a large number of projects having the specific objective of sustainable economic growth.
A second criticism at the Committee’s meeting was that the PPAF does not have a single holistic strategy for poverty reduction. It would be convenient to have a neat, overarching plan for a place where the economic situation is never static, and a diverse set of problems exists in each individual province. In practical terms, there cannot be a single overarching plan for development, period. The World Bank has been trying variations of the one-size-fits-all approach since the 80s, on a much larger scale, with even less success. Instead, the Fund’s approach has been to work with organisations having community outreach in specific areas, so that interventions can have a participatory dimension and be followed up locally on a long-term basis.
That is more than can be said about government efforts at conceiving a grand solution for absolutely everything. By now, even the Planning Commission knows that it may plan with pure intentions, but implementation — well. Implementation can happen only if the brilliantly comprehensive and academic strategy passes through the layers of approval, before there is a regime change scrapping all previous policies. A plan that does not respond to a practical situation can stay locked forever in a dusty drawer in the federal capital, and the people it is meant to affect will be none the wiser.
One reason why the results of the $1.2 billion did not immediately become visible is that the Pakistan Poverty Alleviation Fund and its partner organisations have been investing in people. It is local stakeholders and the generation that is currently in schools who will ultimately assume ownership for local economic development. To strengthen them takes a little bit of time, but since they are going to be around for a while, they are worth the effort. Kamran Akbar, Chief Operating Officer of the PPAF, put it quite beautifully at the closing ceremony for a recent training session held for community activists and entrepreneurs. Turning to the white board, he wrote the phrase “Hast-o-lud” which in English means “is and was”. I think the point he was trying to make was that there cannot be dependence on something that might or might not materialise.
Published in The Express Tribune, February 11th, 2011.