Who Owns Development?

I think it was Willie Nelson and then much later, Donkey from the Shrek movies, who extoled the virtues of being “on the road again.” 

In America, we have made it quite clear to whom the roads belong and whom they serve – cars.  Or rather, the people in cars.  Even the few walkable road spaces outside of cities often prove treacherous.  Americans, for the most part, move from house to car to parking lot and back.  Even in those organized and peaceful communities, the suburbs, you may be able to walk to your neighbor’s house down the street, but you’ll likely have to pass over a mini-highway to get to Harris Teeter or the local oyster bar.  We have, through our city planning decisions, solidified streets and roads as mediums through which cars and trucks may pass, but not people.

I spend a lot of time in cars.  On Monday morning, I travel from Rwanda’s capital city of Kigali to my worksite in rural Burera district.  Throughout the week I visit the district hospital and health centers for meetings and supervision visits.  On Friday, it’s back to Kigali.  For most of this time, I sit in silence, looking out the window as we wind through the mountains of northern Rwanda, taking in the awe-inspiring surroundings, and thinking about the people at work in their fields below.

As I gaze out the window at the images that pass, I can’t help but recognize how different the roads are from those back home.  Packed with life, they overflow with people carrying out the necessities of the day.  A man pushing a bike heavily laden with potatoes, a throng of children streaming from a school as they head home.  Two women with matching skirts, matching babies on their backs, and matching baskets on their heads laughing as they make their way.  A man switching the back of a plodding cow.  A different man shouting at his flock of goats as they skittishly trot along.  The images never stop – at every minute there are bicycles, women, animals, piles of fruit, bags of vegetables, old men, young men, carts full of charcoal, buckets full of bricks, boys carrying water and girls playing tag.  I can’t help but think that these roads belong to the people; the cars and trucks only borrow them.  From the perspective of the vast majority of those on the road, vehicles are only a temporary disturbance in their otherwise very wide sidewalk.

If the people of Rwanda own the roads and the SUVs of the development elite are only a passing interruption, it makes me wonder – who owns Rwandan development?   As we - expatriates like me and native Rwandans - go about the mind-bending task of attempting to improve the health and economic situations of people in this country, who are we serving?  To whom does the process of development belong?  When we plan a training, write a proposal, conduct a supervision visit, collect and analyze a set of data, hold a meeting, or present findings , do we ask ourselves - who benefits?  While people may have the ability to walk in the middle of the road and force my company’s driver to swerve from his lane, they do not have the ability to walk into the middle of a government meeting  and demand that things be done more efficiently.  As Rwanda, arguably the favorite “development darling” of Africa, continues lead through progress, it is crucial that those of us hoping to continue that progress – from NGO expats to district officials – constantly ask ourselves:  who owns development?

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This blog entry also appears on the Global Health Corps blog.  You should head over there and check out some of incredible stories and ideas my fellow corps members are discussing!