Where Religion Breaks Down
When you are a subsistence farmer in one of the harshest environments a person can live in, a certain amount of fatalism is almost crucial. There are simply too many elements beyond your control that deeply affect your life: amount of rain, timing of rain, pests, family members dying and being born, market prices. With all these challenges it’s not surprising that the people here in Niger very much count on God to bring them everything they need, or to take things as they see fit.
This way of thinking works fine for them and is a powerful coping mechanism for the hardships they face. If a child dies, they simply say it was God’s will and move on. If they don’t have enough food for the year, they still maintain a positive attitude as they simply say that God will bring them food. On the other hand, this mindset can be very frustrating for volunteers as it’s our job to try and teach them to help themselves. Trying to persuade them that some of these things are in fact within their control, or at least their influence, is really a constant battle for us.
I have nothing against faith. In fact, in a discussion with another volunteer, I realized that I do in fact have faith, just not in any particular religious beliefs (but that’s a discussion for another time). Faith keeps us going. However, at a certain point, this fatalistic approach to faith simply breaks down. Simply counting on God or another power to “make it better” will only get you so far. In some ways, I really fear that it breeds laziness.
The other day I had a meeting with my villagers about the cereal bank. Now, before the money arrived, my villagers donated their time, energy, and any resources available to build the basic structure for the magazine and even to provide an initial fifteen sacks of millet. This was all part of what they agreed to contribute for the requisite 25% village contribution we needed to get funding. This is a huge amount for a poor village, but they did it willingly because they seemed to understand the concept that they had to put something in to get something out. “Irikoy ne tun, Ay ma ni ga.”(God said get up so I can help you).
Meanwhile, I’ve been running back and forth to Niamey, thus incurring scorn for not staying at post and spending my own money on bush taxi fair and also cell phone credit calling various counterparts. Not to mention battling with the festering, tangled swamp that is bureaucracy trying to get the funding. The problem is that none of this happened in sight of my villagers, nor can they really comprehend it as hard work if I explain it to them.
So I suddenly show up with money. Irikoy bere! (God is big!) It seems to me that in most of their minds, god brought this money with which to buy food. And since we have money now, there is no need for them to donate time, labor, and resources. Now they can get paid for their efforts. They can also afford to just agree to the mason’s outrageous price. If the money runs out before we buy food, well then God will bring more. Through me. Clearly God brought me to the village to bring them this grain bank. It certainly hasn’t come about through anyone’s efforts, not even their own.
This is where they start to shoot themselves in their own foot with their religion. Because they praise God as having brought this, then they can’t take ownership of it, which is necessary to keep it going. But even more frustrating is fact that right after the meeting where I explained how I worked to bring this money and now we can continue to work on it, a depressingly large number of villagers approached me and asked me for money to buy food, or cigarettes, or cola nuts.
It’s depressing and frustrating to see the villagers disregard all the work that we, not just I, have done and simply turn around and start looking for the next hand out. We’re not even finished with this project. It makes me pessimistic about how much they can really help themselves without some deeper mental and cultural shift taking place first, and I don’t see that happening until they have a successful project and actually take credit for it. It’s difficult situation.
This way of thinking works fine for them and is a powerful coping mechanism for the hardships they face. If a child dies, they simply say it was God’s will and move on. If they don’t have enough food for the year, they still maintain a positive attitude as they simply say that God will bring them food. On the other hand, this mindset can be very frustrating for volunteers as it’s our job to try and teach them to help themselves. Trying to persuade them that some of these things are in fact within their control, or at least their influence, is really a constant battle for us.
I have nothing against faith. In fact, in a discussion with another volunteer, I realized that I do in fact have faith, just not in any particular religious beliefs (but that’s a discussion for another time). Faith keeps us going. However, at a certain point, this fatalistic approach to faith simply breaks down. Simply counting on God or another power to “make it better” will only get you so far. In some ways, I really fear that it breeds laziness.
The other day I had a meeting with my villagers about the cereal bank. Now, before the money arrived, my villagers donated their time, energy, and any resources available to build the basic structure for the magazine and even to provide an initial fifteen sacks of millet. This was all part of what they agreed to contribute for the requisite 25% village contribution we needed to get funding. This is a huge amount for a poor village, but they did it willingly because they seemed to understand the concept that they had to put something in to get something out. “Irikoy ne tun, Ay ma ni ga.”(God said get up so I can help you).
Meanwhile, I’ve been running back and forth to Niamey, thus incurring scorn for not staying at post and spending my own money on bush taxi fair and also cell phone credit calling various counterparts. Not to mention battling with the festering, tangled swamp that is bureaucracy trying to get the funding. The problem is that none of this happened in sight of my villagers, nor can they really comprehend it as hard work if I explain it to them.
So I suddenly show up with money. Irikoy bere! (God is big!) It seems to me that in most of their minds, god brought this money with which to buy food. And since we have money now, there is no need for them to donate time, labor, and resources. Now they can get paid for their efforts. They can also afford to just agree to the mason’s outrageous price. If the money runs out before we buy food, well then God will bring more. Through me. Clearly God brought me to the village to bring them this grain bank. It certainly hasn’t come about through anyone’s efforts, not even their own.
This is where they start to shoot themselves in their own foot with their religion. Because they praise God as having brought this, then they can’t take ownership of it, which is necessary to keep it going. But even more frustrating is fact that right after the meeting where I explained how I worked to bring this money and now we can continue to work on it, a depressingly large number of villagers approached me and asked me for money to buy food, or cigarettes, or cola nuts.
It’s depressing and frustrating to see the villagers disregard all the work that we, not just I, have done and simply turn around and start looking for the next hand out. We’re not even finished with this project. It makes me pessimistic about how much they can really help themselves without some deeper mental and cultural shift taking place first, and I don’t see that happening until they have a successful project and actually take credit for it. It’s difficult situation.
Labels: frustrations, grain bank, religion
posted by Seabass @ 7:00 AM
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