What a miserable topic – though maybe not entirely
inappropriate for a blog from a developing country. It is prompted by two things. The first is that we have recently travelled
the length of Ghana and back, to spend Christmas at Kokrobite, on the coast
just west of Accra, and then further west in Cape Coast, which was the original
capital of the British Gold Coast colony – and in doing so have seen something
of how people live in other places than Zebilla. The second is that Oxfam currently have a
rather eye-catching advertisement, which I’m sure you will find on their
website if you’re interested, stating two statistics and their undertaking to
try to do something about the inequality of wealth distribution.
The two statistics are that the richest 1% of the
people in the world own 46% of the wealth; and that the poorest 90% own only
14%. (From this you can work out that
the remaining 40% of the wealth is owned by the remaining 9% of the
people. You can also see that the
richest 10% of people own 86% of the world’s wealth.)
Now, I’m not a mathematician, and my occasional forays
into statistics haven’t exactly left me with an indelible mastery of the
subject. They have however left me with
a lot of respect for people who really can work out (and explain) what figures
actually mean; a serious contempt for people who use numbers in a misleading
way; and a deep sense of regret that there are so many of the latter. Charity makes me hope that many of these do it
unwittingly (though I’m inclined to exclude all politicians from that dispensation
– they do, after all, have the excellent Office of National Statistics to turn
to for help, at us taxpayers’ expense, if they are ever in need of advice).
But as I have time on my hands, I played with numbers
a bit in response to Oxfam’s statistics, with the results below.
·
Let’s assume that there are 1,000
people in the world, and that the total wealth is £1,000,000. That would mean that, if the wealth was
shared equally, everyone would have £1,000.
·
But actually, just 10 people have
managed to corner £460,000 for themselves – that’s an average £46,000 each and
thus 46 times their “fair share”.
·
Another 90 people have an average of £4,444
each – nearly four-and-a-half times their “fair share”.
·
The remaining 900 people have on
average £156 each – which is less than one sixth of their “fair share”.
·
So each of the richest 10 people each
has (on average) 295 times as much as each of the poorest 900. It’s a pretty big difference. (Of course, the richest of the rich will have
much, much more than 295 times more than the poorest of the poor.)
There are various definitions of “wealth” and I don’t
know which one Oxfam are using – hence I don’t know how rich these richest
people actually are – but I’ll come back to that later, after we’ve looked at
how many people we are talking about.
Population
The population of the world reached 7 billion in
2011. We’re talking American billions
here, so, to be clear, that’s seven thousand million – 7,000,000,000.
That’s a big number, but I’ve never really stopped to
think just how big. A fellow VSO
volunteer here in Ghana (thanks Nique…) recently said he had tried to explain
just how big by asking people to imagine counting up to 7 billion at the rate
of 1 number per second. Make your own
guess, then think about it (with the aid of a calculator). You would count to 60 in a minute, 3,600 in
an hour, and 86,400 in a day. You’d be
at 2,592,000 – a bit over two-and-a-half million – by the end of the first
month. After a year you’re past 31
million. If you continue counting
non-stop for the whole of your allotted three-score-years-and-ten (70 years…),
you will be comfortably past 2 billion by the time you die (we’re assuming that
you started counting the moment you popped out of the womb, of course, so
before you’d actually learnt to count…).
It would take more than three lifetimes – over 220 years - to count to 7
billion. Yes, it’s a really big number.
It follows that 1% of 7 billion is also a big number –
it’s actually 70 million (70,000,000).
This happens to be approximately how many people live in the UK. I wonder whether Oxfam’s statistician
intended us to make that connection – probably not. It actually isn’t particularly helpful since
nobody is going to claim that the richest 1% of the human population all live
in the UK. But before we allow ourselves
to feel good about that, let’s be clear that it is highly unlikely that even
one (1) of the poorest 90% of the people in the world live in the UK either –
we are almost certainly all part of the 10% of the population (700 million
people) who have our hands on 86% of the world’s wealth.
Where do all those people live? Wikipedia gives data for 2010 about the 10
most populous countries:
1.
China – 1,340 million
2.
India – 1,225 million
3.
USA – 300 million
4.
Indonesia – 240 million
5.
Brazil – 195 million
6.
Pakistan – 174 million
7.
Nigeria – 158 million
8.
Bangladesh – 149 million
9.
Russia – 142 million
10.
Japan – 120 million
That lot comes to just over 4 billion – more than half
of the world’s population. I wouldn’t
have guessed all of those countries correctly, though I did know that there are
a lot of people in China and India, and I might have mentally included Pakistan
and Bangladesh alongside India (though actually I didn’t realise they were each
quite that big).
Wikepedia also shares some information about how
quickly the human population has grown, together with predictions of future
growth (with the usual disclaimers of course).
The figures are attributed to the United Nations Population Fund. A summary is:
·
1800 – 1 billion
·
1927 – 2 billion (so it took 127
years to add a billion)
·
1960 – 3 billion (so it only took 37
years to add another billion)
·
1974 – 4 billion (and only 14 years
to add this billion)
·
1987 – 5 billion (13 years)
·
1999 – 6 billion (12 years)
·
2011 – 7 billion (12 years)
Population growth of course depends on two things –
how many people are born, and how many die.
Estimates for 2011 are that 135,000,000 people were born and 57,000,000
died – so the world population increased by 78 million that year. (Incidentally, that’s more than 4 people born
every second, and almost 2 dying every second.)
The rate of population growth reached its highest in 1962
and 1963, when it stood at 2.2% per year.
The world population is still growing but the rate of growth has reduced
– it was 1.1% per year in 2009. But in
some parts of the world the rate of increase is still over 2% - Wikipedia lists
the Middle East, Sub-Saharan Africa (which includes Ghana), South Asia,
South-East Asia and Latin America. I
don’t know exactly where they mean by South Asia and South-East Asia but I’m
going to guess that these include India etc and Indonesia; and probably not
China.
In some parts of the world the population is falling –
Wikipedia cites Eastern Europe (because of economic difficulties following the
collapse of the USSR); Southern Africa (because of HIV/AIDS); and Japan (where
the reason given is reduced fertility, but I don’t know whether that is
supposed to mean that in Japan something is going wrong with people’s ability
to have children, or just that people are choosing to have fewer. I suspect it’s the latter). Interestingly China isn’t in the list of
countries with a falling population, and I realise that I don’t know whether
their policy of only allowing 1 child per family is still in place, and if so,
when it will start to result in population reduction.
Finally, Wikipedia gives two different projections for
the future. Both projections say that
the population will continue to increase, but then stop increasing. One has the population growing to more than
10 billion by about 2100; the other has it “only” growing to 9 billion, by
about 2050. I find both of those numbers
really scary and I wonder why nobody is talking about them as a really serious
issue (incidentally, I include VSO and Oxfam in “nobody”). Ten billion people is almost half as many
again as we have now. Look around you,
and where you see 2 people now, imagine three in future. Instead of taking over 200 years to count
them all, you’re now talking about well over 300 years!
Of course one reason why we don’t discuss these issues
is that, well, actually, some people do try to raise them but the rest of us
refuse to take much notice. Politicians generally
don’t talk about them - they are conveniently too far in the future for any
politician to need to worry about. Also,
the issues they raise are really, really difficult, so no mainstream politician
is going to get any credit for trying to talk about them – in fact, you can’t
raise the issues without offending somebody (who are you going to encourage to
stop having children?) I remember the
international gasp of surprise when China introduced its 1-child-per-family
policy - the implicit human-rights based condemnation, and the clear thought
that nobody could introduce such a policy in the “free world”, and only a “totalitarian
regime” could even think about enforcing it. We also all instinctively know that the
world’s leaders wouldn’t be able to come up with a plan to deal with population
growth; and we all have an ostrich-like tendency not to want to worry about
things that we don’t really think we can influence. Even as I type these words, in my mind’s eye
I’m watching an episode of Monty Python’s Flying Circus, and I’m the
bedraggled, bearded bloke in the long smock wandering the streets crying “Doom,
Doom…”
Back to the Oxfam figures though – if I do my simple
calculation again, leaving the total wealth of the world at £1 million, but
increasing the number of people to 1,400 (that’s the equivalent of increasing
the world’s population from 7 billion to 9.8 billion), then the results are:
·
Each individual’s “fair share” is now
only £714.
·
There are 14 “ultra-rich” people
with, on average, £32,857 each. (So they
are individually quite a lot poorer, though I think we can agree that they’re
still pretty well-off.)
·
There are now 126 “rich” people, with
an average of £3,175 each. (Again, less
than the previous £4,444 but maybe not exactly uncomfortable).
·
The poorest now number 1,260, and on
average have only £111 each – but that’s only £45 less than they had before.
·
Each of these figures has fallen to
71.4% of its previous value, and the gap between the richest and the poorest
has reduced by more than £15,000, so on the face of it things are quite a bit
less “unfair” than they were. But of
course the only question that actually matters is whether the people who today
have to survive on the equivalent of £156 could survive at all on £111.
I’m now in danger of flogging this point to death –
but it seems to me that the calculation above is too optimistic. I can’t see why the increase in population isn’t
going to be concentrated in the 90% of the world who are poor – simply on the
basis that population growth is happening predominantly in poor countries. If that is how it happens, then their share will
be even less than £111.
Economists might argue that the total amount of
“wealth” might increase at the same time as the population increases. If wealth and population increase together,
then presumably the poorest people will still have roughly £156 each on
average; if wealth increases faster than population then the poorest would have
more than £156. But I struggle to see
why wealth should increase as fast as, or faster than population.
Since I know even less about economics than statistics,
I don’t feel in a strong position to argue about this (and I’d be interested to
know what someone with expertise in this area thinks). But I find myself wondering whether “wealth”
relates to the quantity of goods or the price of goods. I have an uncomfortable suspicion that it
relates to the price – so if things like food become scarcer and the price goes
up, the people who actually own food become richer whilst the people who buy food
get less for their money. I think that
means that the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.
So now I’m back to the other part of the question –
which I think is along the lines of “what does “wealth” mean and how is it
calculated; and what is “poverty”?”
Poverty
There are definitions of poverty in dictionaries and
on Wikipedia – they’re not all identical and I guess you take your pick. For me, poverty obviously involves not having
much; but I think it also involves having less than you need, less than other
people in your society have, and suffering a degree of social exclusion and/or
powerlessness as a consequence.
There are also definitions of wealth; and wealth turns
out to be a key concept in economics, and Wikipedia has quite a nice little
section going through some of the different aspects of wealth and their various
implications. “Wealth” and “income” aren’t
the same thing (I guess the example we’re most familiar with is poor old Lord
Muck, who has inherited a huge house etc from Daddy (“wealth”) but doesn’t have
the income to cover its running costs). There’s
a helpful concept called “purchasing power parity” (ie how much you can buy
with it, which might not be the same as its “exchange-rate value” – ie how many
£ or $ you can get for it). This concept makes it a bit easier to compare
both “wealth” and “income” – but perhaps particularly “income” – in different
countries with different currencies
Working out the value of possessions (ie “wealth”) strikes
me as more difficult, perhaps especially in a developing country. Clearly one calculation would be how much
cash you could sell the possessions for.
Other calculations, which I think could give rather different answers, might
be how much money you would have to spend to buy the article, or how much it
would cost you to get access to it or something equivalent. Then there are issues about land – who owns
it, what value you put on it (particularly if there isn’t a market for land),
what value you put on “common land” etc. Also, in the context of deciding how poor
people are, how you value assets that are owned by the state (things like
roads, or power and water infrastructure), and services provided by the state
(like healthcare and education)? And then,
what about the natural resources of a country or region – how do you attribute to
individuals a value which represents their share of, say, the oil reserves,
precious metals and diamonds which lie in the country’s soil. I think the short answer is that these things
are pretty difficult and that, generally, people making calculations about
wealth and poverty try not to get bogged down doing complicated sums about them.
I’ve described Zebilla in quite a lot of detail
already and my intention was to give you enough information to form your own
opinion about whether the people here are “poor”, and whether they are
suffering from “poverty”. I don’t find
this all that easy to answer.
There are certainly people in Zebilla who are not
poor. An example is our landlady – she
lives in a comfortable western-style house which she owns, built on land that
she owns; she drives a nice 4x4 car; she owns at least one other house that she
rents out; she has a good job with a steady income (she is a nurse, I think
quite a senior one). She isn’t unique in
Zebilla; but she is in the minority, I’m sure she’s one of the wealthiest 10% and she might be up
there in the wealthiest 1%. She wouldn’t
stand out as rich in the UK though.
Most of the people here don’t have much income (I don’t
think the majority are in paid employment), and they don’t seem to own very
much (and much of what they do own is pretty grotty) (and there isn’t much for
them to buy in the shops). They live in
a place with only basic of infrastructure (we’re having yet another power cut
as I type, and the water system doesn’t seem to be delivering water to people’s
houses consistently so there is a lot of carrying water from the boreholes to
houses at the moment). Beside them, with
my nice house in Harwell, my car, my furniture, books and CDs and DVDs, and all
of the infrastructure in the UK that I take for granted, and all of the things
that I can easily buy with the credit that I can easily get if I want it - I’m
undeniably rich. Even my income here in
Zebilla - we live rent-free and VSO pay us a living allowance which is worth £5
per day each approximately – seems to be more money than most people have;
also, its arrival is less uncertain. I
don’t really have to think very long before I conclude that upwards of half the
people, and maybe 80% or more, in Zebilla are “poor”.
On the other hand, maybe it isn’t quite as simple as
that. Few people (if any) here are in
debt or have a mortgage, many “own” the “house” they live in and the land that
surrounds it (and they seem to have access to plenty of common land too –
though I haven’t worked out exactly how land ownership works…), they grow crops
and have livestock, and they seem to exchange and barter a lot so that looking
only at their monetary income and expenditure isn’t the whole picture, and they
don’t have to spend money on heating the house or on clothes to prevent them
from freezing to death. And they do have
the benefit of schools (free up to GCSE-level), and a national health service
which is almost free, and they are part of a functioning society that they
understand and can play a part in if they want.
Also, even if they don’t own something in their own right, they can
generally get access to it by borrowing from a member of their extended family,
their tribe, or a neighbour – and they all seem to lend freely as well as
borrow, so there is a sort of collective wealth which overlaps with individual
wealth. However, I don’t think all this
changes my view that they are “poor”.
But do they “live in poverty”?
Well, it depends on your definition of poverty.
Wikipedia is also interesting on poverty, and
helpfully confirms that defining “poverty” isn’t much easier than defining “wealth”. Moreover, once you’ve defined it, deciding
whether individuals or groups of people are living in poverty isn’t easy
either. Another thing which seems to
become obvious, though it isn’t stated in so many words, is that “poverty” is
clearly a political concept. You can
hear the axes being ground - some
definitions seem geared towards making wealthy individuals and wealthy nations
face up to the fact that their excessive wealth creates real hardship for
others; whilst others seem designed to produce a low number of people living in
poverty.
There seem to be two parallel definitions of poverty –
one is an “absolute” definition, which basically says that if you’re living on
less than $1.25 per day you’re “living in poverty”. The other is a “relative” definition, which
says that if you have significantly less than all the other people around you,
then you’re “living in poverty”. Both
seem to me valid – or rather, if you take them together (rather than arguing
about which one is correct) then I think they’re potentially useful. But they aren’t totally straightforward.
The $1.25 per day version started some years ago as $1
per day, and has since been increased (but, it seems to me, by considerably
less than US price inflation). Obviously,
one could argue endlessly about whether $1.25 is the “right” figure. (One table in Wikipedia also gives figures of
$2 per day.) Importantly, it is supposed
to equate to the “buying power” of $1.25 in the USA (“purchasing power parity”
again) rather than the “exchange value” of $1.25 in the local currency. That strikes me as sensible and helpful – and
having told you that we’re living here on £5 per day each, I can usefully add
that some things are much cheaper here than in
the UK (though others are roughly the same, and some are much more
expensive). It’s very varied – fruit and
vegetables in season, locally grown, are pretty cheap; produce that has to be
transported within Ghana is noticeably more expensive and roughly comparable to
UK prices; meat is expensive. Our
monthly electricity bill is similar to the UK even though we use a lot less. The bus fare to Accra was less than £20 for a
journey in excess of 500 miles. Mobile
phone costs are lower than the UK but the internet is more expensive. A laptop costs more here. The bikes we bought cost less than they would
have in the UK (though you couldn’t buy such a basic machine in the UK); but
buying and running a car probably costs quite a lot more here. I think that the essentials of life cost less
here than in the UK – in other words, £5 per day goes further.
I think that a Ghanaian could survive reasonably well
if he/she had the exchange value of $1.25 – particularly if he/she was living
as part of an extended family with access to the usual range of family
resources and possessions, and bartering opportunities. I don’t know in detail what $1.25 buys in the
USA, but I really wouldn’t like to try living in the UK on less than £1 per day;
and a Ghanaian would be struggling to live the most basic of lives here if
he/she only had access to the buying-power of $1.25 per day (likewise a woman
with a husband and 6 children trying to live on the buying-power of $10 per
day).
The “relative” definition of poverty has one clear
advantage, which is that it allows an element of “social inclusion/exclusion”
to be taken into account. That strikes
me as very important. One clear
disadvantage though is that it risks implying that the poorest people in any
society will always be in poverty – even if they drive round in Rolls-Royces
and eat gourmet food off silver plates.
I don’t think that’s the intention and I do think this would be a
distortion of the concept of poverty – and I remember it being discussed quite
recently in the UK media when a UK poverty charity suggested that it is now
“essential” to have a mobile phone (so if you are unable to afford one, that is
an indication that you may be living in poverty). Drawing lines was never easy!
Our journey through Ghana revealed a wider range of
lifestyles than we see in Zebilla. We
saw some very big houses and some very expensive cars – there are undoubtedly
people in this country who are rich by any standards. Maybe some would be in the richest 10% of the
world’s population, though I suspect not many would get into the top 1%. We didn’t see much evidence of where their
wealth comes from. There seems to be
very little industry here, and the farms are small and not the least
“intensive” or “well-organised”. We’re
told that agricultural produce is one of the foundations of Ghana’s economy,
though it’s apparently not a significant source of foreign exchange. There is oil here, and gold, and cocoa
exports are apparently significant – but we didn’t see truck-loads of these on
the roads!
In Accra, as I’ve said elsewhere, there is quite
significant congestion despite a good network of city dual-carriageways. Admittedly a lot of the vehicles are taxis,
buses, tro-tros (these are sort of unofficial minibuses) and lorries – but
there are plenty of cars, many many more than we see in Zebilla. Accra is a big, sprawling city and we haven’t
really seen where people live. We also
know that there are an estimated 5 million slum-dwellers in Ghana and a good
proportion of these must be in Accra, but we didn’t see the slums. We also didn’t see obvious signs of
sufficient employment for all the people – and we saw a lot of people trying to
make a living by hawking goods at the roadside (and amongst the queuing cars at
the junctions). I take this to be an
indication that there isn’t enough employment to go round.
In the Accra papers there is an ongoing saga about a
new “shopping mall” which has recently opened in the Osu district (on Oxford
Street!). This is the third shopping
mall in Accra, and it’s clearly an indication that there are people here who
have money to spend, and that foreign retailers are interested in selling them
stuff. Despite this, our impression is
that the vast majority of shopping and commercial activity takes place in
markets and small, road-side “shops”. We
caught the tro-tro to Kokrobite from Kaneshie Market, and there was a huge
number of small stalls and a huge number of people. It was basically the same as Zebilla market,
only a great deal bigger. Many of the
traders are very small scale and their daily profit can’t be big. They seem still to be living a village-style
life in a major city, and it doesn’t quite make sense somehow – I see it as a
sign that society here is in transition.
It’s difficult to say based on this limited
information – but my feeling is that a smaller proportion of people in Accra
are “poor”, but some of them definitely are, and some could be even poorer than
the poorest in Zebilla. It’s possible
that those who appear poorest include the ones who have arrived here most
recently from more rural locations, and haven’t yet got themselves established
in the city. Maybe in 6 months or a
year, those individuals won’t be so poor any longer (but will have been
replaced by other incomers who are just as poor).
Kokrobite is different again. It is a small sea-side village about 20 miles
west of Accra, and five or six miles south of the main coast road which
connects Accra and points west – it feels rural not urban, and even quite
isolated. There are 10 to 20 big houses
along the beach, and we saw some big cars in some of them, but they pretty obviously
belong to outsiders. There is a tourist
industry there, and for 3 days including Christmas day we were part of maybe 50
white people on holiday (a good proportion of them were volunteers – like us
only younger). Our hotel was just a bit
rundown and it wasn’t half-full. It
seemed to be run by Ghanaians, but the biggest place (Big Milly’s Backyard) is
run by a white person (European or USA), as was the nice place where our
volunteer friends were staying. The
hotels’ workforce seemed to be local. To
be blunt, and despite their intrinsic friendliness and hospitality, Ghanaians
just haven’t got “customer service” yet – they don’t seem to expect to receive
it and they certainly don’t give it – I’d list this among the obstacles to
their developing a decent and lucrative tourism industry. On the main street in the evening there are
“street-food” places and “drinking spots” which seem to cater for both the
tourist and local markets, with that subtle pricing flexibility which means
that both groups pay an appropriate price.
There are other villages along the coast in both
directions – in fact, heading back towards Accra, it wasn’t obvious where one
village ended and the next began. The
houses were similar to Zebilla but packed more closely together. I don’t really want to type the word
“squalid” but actually it’s the one that springs to mind first – people and
animals live cheek by jowl, there is rubbish in the streets (though each
morning they seem to sweep it up and burn it, then drop the rubbish that they
will sweep up tomorrow), and although there are toilets they clearly aren’t
universally used. There is some
agriculture but it felt that there was less land available than in Zebilla, and
there was no sign of industry. They
catch fish in the sea, from large wooden canoes that seem to go out two or three
miles into the Atlantic. We didn’t see
any mechanisation, and we watched with tourists’ interest as they pulled the
nets in by hand – laboriously, for hours, half-a-yard at a time, in teams of 10
to 20 people, slowly generating a gigantic heap of rope and finally landing a
net which must be 300 metres long and containing a relatively meagre catch of
mainly rather small fish. We didn’t swim
– we were put off by the evidence of human excrement. At first I thought this was caused by drunken
tourists, but the only actual eye-witness evidence is of local contributors.
I’d say the people of Kokrobite were economically
similar to Zebilla – mainly poor.
Our last stop was Cape Coast, which was different in
several respects. Cape Coast was a village
of 20 houses when the Portuguese first came in 1482, but the continuing
European presence gave it a growing importance and it is now the fifth or sixth
biggest city in Ghana and capital of the Central Region, with a population in
the region of 400,000. It has a
sea-front castle – always intended to defend against other Europeans rather
than natives – which is now a World Heritage Site, I think because of the grim
evidence it contains of the slave trade.
It was the original capital of the British Gold Coast, and even after
Accra became the capital (late in the 19th century) there appears to
have been a substantial British population.
There are several British-style churches complete with towers and
spires, and both residential and commercial buildings which look as though they
were quite grand when they were first built.
Now they are anything but grand, with the exception of the churches –
these are well-maintained and clearly regularly used. The castle is rather neglected for a monument
of its historical importance and there clearly isn’t enough state money in
Ghana to maintain and restore it, or enough of a tourist trade to repay the
investment. That’s really a pity, as
Cape Coast could be a lovely location and an injection of capital and foreign
trade would do wonders for the city.
Parts of Cape Coast were the nearest we feel we got to
slums. A large part of the old-town just
west of the castle is built up with mainly wooden structures, not exactly akin
to the shanty-style slums we saw in Lima but along the same lines; people cook on
the streets; the gutters are more than usually full of rubbish and that
disgusting black sludgy liquid which is left when washing water and other
liquid waste is evaporated in the sun.
There were an awful lot of people for a relatively confined space. They were quite a bit less well-dressed than
what we are used to in Zebilla (Ghanaians can be extremely smart, for example
for church, and they are generally reasonably well turned-out, even if the
clothes aren’t well coordinated and aren’t of the newest). This was the nearest we have got to feeling
threatened in Ghana – though I don’t believe we had any justification for
feeling that way. We didn’t see any
evidence of sanitation, and on the beach we saw rather a lot of evidence of
lack of sanitation (though, as noted in Kokrobite, that might be a reflection
of personal preference rather than necessity, and in terms of quantity I don’t
think we saw the excrement of quite the entire population of that part of the
city).
Other parts of Cape Coast were more similar to what we
had already seen. There is a “bustling”
market, not as big as Kaneshie Market in Accra but similar in style, and three
or four “bustling” main streets, rather more than a mile in total length. Zebilla also “bustles” on market day, but
these bits of Cape Coast were busy every day from mid-morning to evening. Away from the centre it’s considerably more
spacious and there were some quite large shops.
The coast road by-passes the centre of Cape Coast so there isn’t a major
traffic problem , though it’s still very busy in the middle of the day.
We came back north on a day-long bus ride, first to
Kumasi and then up the main north-south road through Tamale to Bolga. We’ve driven the Kumasi to Tamale stretch
before in both directions, but only in the dark. It was interesting to see the landscape
change. In the south, it is described as
rain-forest, though it actually doesn’t rain much here for large parts of the
year and the humidity seems to vary quite a bit, so that it’s only occasionally
near-100% humidity where David Attenborough et al thrive, and the vegetation
seems much less dense. It’s also far
from pristine – people live in most of this area, albeit at fairly low density,
so there are a lot of small roads and tracks, and frequent small patches
cleared for farming. There’s a lot of
banana growing here, and we saw pineapples (though there were more of those on
the coast road). The villages are
similar to what we see around Zebilla, and the towns are like Zebilla. I’d describe the areas as fairly sparsely
populated, though less so than in the north.
As you approach Tamale, the rain-forest is replaced by
savannah. At this time of year this
consists of rather tall but totally dry grass, bare patches of ground, scrubby
shrubs, and middle-sized trees (there would be 6 to 20 of these in an area the
size of a football pitch). Past Tamale,
it gets drier and there is less vegetation; and quite a lot has now been burnt
back – we are told that this is the result of accidental fires, and that
everyone agrees these are bad for the land.
I think this journey confirmed our existing
impressions of wealth and poverty in Ghana, rather than adding new information. I’m left needing to answer my own question of
whether I think people in Ghana “live in poverty”. I still don’t find it at all easy. I’m clear that many, maybe most, are
poor. I’m clear that some are very poor
indeed, and could in my opinion be described as living in abject poverty. The very poor people in Cape Coast were most definitely
in this category.
Also, there are
more people in Ghana whom you would describe as crippled – people who appear to
have broken leg bones at some point and not had them set properly; and it seems
clear that the least fortunate of these people struggle to make a living. I’ve mentioned the Ghana Health Service and I
don’t want to knock it. Recently we
heard that there used to be 4 doctors in the Upper East Region (population circa
1 million), but now there are only 2, as the other 2 were sent to the Upper
West Region (population circa 1 million) where there were no doctors at all).
I also think that a lot of people here live a rather
precarious life. We have seen hardly any
evidence of hunger – there is food to buy and people can afford it; only once
has a shockingly thin man knocked on our door and begged, and we don’t see
underfed people on the street (though we get a smattering of begging most times
we are out). But we are told that the
rains last summer came unusually late in northern Ghana, consequently those
people who took a chance and planted at the usual time lost their seeds. Those who planted later did get a harvest but
it was pretty poor compared to a normal year and people are predicting that
food will start to be scarce as the end of the dry season approaches. If ever the rains don’t come at all one summer
(but why shouldn’t they – unless you believe in climate change), I reckon there
will be serious hardship here and people might even die in significant
numbers.
Despite this sombre thought, though, I don’t really
feel that the majority of people in Ghana “live in poverty”. I would rather say that they live a fairly
tough life with rather limited resources and with very little by way of a safety
net, but have the benefit of a vibrant, functioning and mainly supportive
society, with opportunities for fulfilment.
I don’t think life here would suit most people brought up in the UK (and
I’m pretty sure that by the end of a year here, we will have had enough) – but
I’m not sure that the UK would suit most people brought up in Ghana either.
For a closing
thought I want to quote a few more statistics from Wikipedia:
·
Apparently someone calculated the “household
wealth” of the world in 2000 as $125 trillion.
(We’re in American number-land again, so this is $125,000,000,000,000
(which would be $125 billion in UK number-land)). I think that means that the richest 1% of the
population have on average a bit under $800,000 each.
·
In Ghana, 28.6% of the population
(that’s just over 7 million people) live on less than $1.25 per day, and 51.8%
(nearly 13 million) live on less than $2 per day. I understand these to be “purchasing power
parity” figures not “exchange-rate equivalent”.
For the UK, the percentages are 0% and 0%.
·
According to Ghana’s national
definition of poverty, 28.5% of the population live in poverty (that’s the same
7 million as in the previous bullet - which tells me that Ghana either doesn’t
have its own national definition of poverty, or think the $1.25 per day version
is appropriate). In the UK, 14% of the population live below the national
poverty line – I make that nearly 10 million people. Wikipedia might be wrong, of course…
Hi Paul / Jane,
ReplyDeleteHad a very quick read through this recent post, which was extremely interesting and confirms my view / experience of travelling & especially with a very different culture. It allows time to think, reflect and compare to our life as we knew it before the experience. I got so much out of visiting "poor" countries, the biggest being that they were "rich" in so many other ways, ways that we take for granted in this "wealthy" society and have lost sight of.
Anyway, I wrote to wish you a very happy birthday, which I believe is coming up & I hope you enjoy celebrating it in another country.
Take care & can't wait to hear all about it when you get back.
Jayne
I am not surprised you did not see the slums while in Accra; you were there as tourists (even as VSO volunteers, your trip through Accra was as a tourist), so your goal was to reach certain non-slum parts of the city. Also, however, you would not have noticed the slums if you did pass through any, as they rarely are right on the main streets, but are rather further beyond.
ReplyDeletehttp://obibinibruni.org/