This Weeks Introduction
Positive news from the surgeon to be found under medical this week. Definitely cause for a “wee dram.”
I had to rewrite the introduction this week as I felt it may have been considered ”too harsh.” Yes, even writing a blog, you have to be extremely careful what you say. My daughters are my censors for political correctness; generally, they let me say what I want. Sort of. This week I did a bit of self-censoring; the truth, I think, is the main casualty in all this political correctness. I smiled to myself this week when I saw a headline with a picture of Salmond and Sturgeon captioned with, “Which one is telling the truth?” Did it not strike the writer that there is a good likelihood both may be lying?
Last week we talked about discipline. This week I want to continue on the subject regarding Africa and the lack of discipline in handing out, the receipt of aid or your hard-earned money as donations. When our leaders show no regard for the use of public funds, work ethic or public good, nor the rule of law, you will find it is implausible the general populace will act any differently in day to day life.
To my annoyance, every day we see adverts shown on TV by charities and NGOs looking to raise money from you to do public good in Africa. They are prolific, and many do represent good causes at face value. Many often try to achieve the very same outcome, all chasing the same £, $ or € in your pocket. Of course, the adverts are targeting your heartstrings with the accompanying human or animal suffering imagery. What has struck me is the considerable number of organisations involved. Although the volunteers carrying out their work do so in “good faith”, the uncoordinated manner and haphazard way it is done is alarming. This comes from my own personal encounters. By the way, as much as 35% of all this donated money goes to fundraising alone, partly what you see on your screens. Everyone wants their own individual organisation, taking no account of the benefit of coordination or collaboration of their efforts to save costs, be that fundraising, administrative or logistical. All seem to require their own “head honchos”, figureheads. After that, to support this individuality, they require their own admin support, offices and logistics. The benefit of sharing operational knowledge and experience, even country-specific, could be huge. Rule one seems to be, keep what you know a secret. These are generally the major cost centres eating up most of your cash before reaching the proposed benefactor. The WHO in 2018 spent close to $200 million on travel. (Marketwatch.) However:
“WHO Director-General Margaret Chan was reported to have spent US $ 3,700,000 on travel in 2015” Centre for Advancement Of Philanthropy
Notably, nearly all are focused on the symptoms of the underlying problems, not the causes or long term sustainable solutions. Two adverts that especially come to mind as examples are the charities involved in the treatment or even the reduction of blindness in children and potable water supply in Africa. You would think two separate organisations with different goals. Not true if we look a little deeper. It is said 80% of blindness in Africa can be prevented. A shocking figure. If you take for instance trachoma, access to clean water and hygiene can reduce this disease drastically. Yes, if caught early enough a short course of cheap antibiotics can cure it, as the adverts claim. The antibiotics fix the symptom, short term solution, but for a long term fix, you need access to both clean water and local health services. This health service does not need to be provided by a doctor, just someone capable of educating about good hygiene and the benefits. On the commercial farms in Zimbabwe, we all had health workers. They were generally ladies from within the workforce who were trained in hygiene, child welfare, nutrition, and had the ability to treat minor ailments such as diarrhoea, headaches, and minor trauma.
Then we come to basic access to potable water. After living in rural Africa for nearly fifty years I do not know how many boreholes (deep wells) I have seen repeatedly offered by different donor organisations to the same local villagers or communities offering clean water. Boreholes are fairly cheap, generally offering clean water without the need for boiling, filtration or water purifying chemicals. Over the years accompanying and immediately post-installation, you will regularly see an NGO, western government or charity sign proclaiming that they are providing the community with clean water as if they were the first to do so on that site. So we know, amongst many other diseases, that to resolve much of the blindness caused by trachoma, you need clean water to improve a child’s eye hygiene. They supply access to water but do they ensure that it is a lasting resolution? No! For that, you need that one special ingredient. Discipline! Now, this is where, from my experience, all these organisations with the best intentions fall down. No single person is given the task of maintaining the borehole, diesel engine, handpump or solar pump. The donor moves on, keen to get yet another borehole proclaimed with a sign bearing their name at the next village. The number of boreholes is the target, not the number of working boreholes beyond installation. More boreholes add human numbers to the projects reporting sheets for scrutiny by funders. The management and maintenance are often given to the community, which is a mix of many social and political alliances, with no training, accountability or structure to collect contributions to maintain the equipment. This invariably means no potable water within the year. Money wasted. Meanwhile, why not sell the solar panel if the pump does not work? Better still, steal it before someone else does, then back to the antibiotics and more requests for money, generation after generation.
If accountability is not insisted on either to a village or a state there will be no end to the woes in Africa. The state-level accountability is often not insisted on for the perceived political benefits or for the access of some greater economic prize such as minerals or some other raw materials. At the village level, no NGO or charity wants to be seen as being “harsh”. They want to be liked by everyone. Importantly, when there is an audit of their operations, they want the benefactors to tell the world how wonderful they are and how their lives have improved. To up the benefactors’ enthusiasm they maybe even receive a logoed t-shirt to wear at the interview—certainly no place seen for the insistence of discipline. There are few and far between exceptions. From political state level to community level, accountability and discipline are only given “lip service.”
Africa will not change without discipline. It needs to start with how we hand out aid. Already we see the COVID-19 vaccines becoming a tool to garner political influence in Africa rather than a selfless co-ordinated worldwide exercise in helping the poor and vulnerable. Poor because of their own governments. Who will receive these injections in those countries first? Any bets?
Positive Medical News
Really good news from my post-operation review this week. Following the surgery, the biopsy and a review of my case with the specialists involved, they came to the following conclusion. The tumour, although large, 20cm+ by 16cm, and malignant was not aggressive cancer. They concluded that they had removed all of the tumour, with its connecting tissue, along with a metre of my small intestine. They, therefore, were not recommending any immediate treatment at this time and would instead monitor my progress. My next appointment, with scans, is in three months time.
When I first fell ill with heart failure on the 11th of October last year and this tumour was found to be the contributing cause, I sort of resigned myself to probably not only having surgery but also chemo or radiation at very best. Rozanne always took a much more positive view. She declared my favourable prognosis was due to her positive thoughts. If this is the case, I wonder if she is not giving the Scottish rugby team her full attention in her thoughts?
Whatever the case it was surprisingly great news. Thanks for all your positive thoughts, kind words, prayers and support. It meant a great deal to me.
I now have an appointment with my cardiologist on the 11th of March to commence a program to fix my heart arrhythmia.
Campbeltown and Entry to Keil School
I am pretty certain I probably was held back a year when I went to Dalintober Junior School in Campbeltown. In saying that, I have no idea what grade I was in when I left Gruline, after all, there were only eight of us in the whole school. My stepmother later claimed one of the reasons they sent me off to school in Campbeltown was because I could not read at nine years old. She was mistaken about this, as from a very early age, I enjoyed reading. In fact, one of the first things I did on arriving in Campbeltown was joining the library. A strange thing to do for a non-reader. Grammar, I am sure I had no clue. Spelling, why do you need that if you recognise the word? My father’s cousin Margaret was tasked to fix that.
I do not know why I took such a dislike to Campbeltown. My grandparents and aunts rarely offered a harsh word and in fact, spoilt me. Cakes before bed instead of peas brose. I think my dislike was probably because of four issues. Having to leave Mull, the farm, my way of life and to a lesser extent being treated as an outsider both in school and in play. My accent offered the local kids much entertainment, without malice mind you. Rather more of an amusement.
I presume I learnt something at school, not enough to pass my eleven plus as I went into a technical class when I moved to the grammar school. I thought I was going straight to Keil on leaving junior school, for some reason, that did not happen. I do know that I was an extra burden to my aunts, they had to deal with my grandmothers deteriorating health and were moving towards marriage coupled with a new business to run. When the school holidays came around, they supported my argument to go home with vigour, not unkindly and therefore ensured my trip home to Mull. On some of the shorter holidays such as Easter, I did not go home. My father and Flora started their own family in 1961 so they had their hands full I suppose. Luckily I could get a bus to Oban. In those days the boat went from Oban to Salen some three miles from home. My brother Archie was born in 1961, while my sister Fiona was born in 1962.
Notwithstanding the said plan to go to Keil I found myself at Campbeltown Grammar for a year. After the first term, I was upgraded to a more academic class through good results. Campbeltown Grammar, I have no doubt was a good school but I preferred the snooker rooms which were almost adjacent to the school. I enjoyed my time at the grammar school but once again did not gain any lasting friends. There was no reason other than, I just did not make strong ties, likely due to the short time spent there. I had lots of friends, on leaving, that seemed to be the end of the connection. That year I sat the entrance exams to Keil, I must have passed as I found myself getting ready that summer holiday to attend. School trunks, uniforms, including kilt which was the school dress, Cambridge shoes and rugby kit. All from R.W. Forsyth, Glasgow.
Why Keil? Its founders Sir William MacKinnon and MacNeill, born in Campbeltown, set up a fund for teaching Highland boys. McKinnon and his nephew MacNeill owned the British India Steam Navigation Company. The original school was started in 1915 in Kintyre with the school originally being set up in Southend, on the southern tip of Kintyre. In 1925 it burnt down and moved to Helenslee, Dumbarton on the Clyde. The main school building was the shipbuilders, Denny’s mansion. I left very excited about going to this school which had an excellent reputation for learning and sport. It was not long that I realised it was more like a prison than a school, run almost exclusively by the senior boys. Many of my friends loved their time at Keil. It being a school, I never shared their affection for the place. To its credit, I was introduced to rugby and sailing. Every boy at Keil had to play rugby in winter, no exceptions. In summer, you could opt to sail, which I did most weekends. Much better than cricket and athletics.
Just before the Golden Farming Years
In 1979, being now in PATU (Police Anti Terrorist Unit) and with my first child on the way, farming expansion was not the highest priority, but the plan to do so was being formulated. With the help of Roger Thompson of Wright Rain, we laid out a master irrigation plan which would supply irrigation to all the arable on the farm in the form of a ring main. Much of this arable land was deemed marginal in the farm plan, only 1.5ha was recommended for irrigation on that particular plan. We were now earmarking some 350ha for irrigation. However, we replaced the diesel engines with electrical driven pumps. Over the years travelling throughout Africa, I could never get over how many projects did not give electrification a priority. Not only is electricity cheaper than diesel, management and maintenance is so much simpler. Initial capital cost should not be the only priority, long term running costs and working life are exceedingly important. Here, you must include your management time. Often management is costed as an overhead but you really need to dig down on your management time allocation, especially related to daily operations. Both in cost and lost opportunity. If you spend every morning and evening carting fuel to a pump, changing oil filters and listening with one ear all day hoping the engine is running is a huge consumer of your productive time. In Africa for some reason, diesel engines have short lives. I know on our farm dirty or contaminated fuel was a real issue. Equally, when I began farming, foreign currency was extremely short and therefore spares, including filters and belts were hard to come by. In many parts of Africa, this is still the norm, not so much due to foreign currency, rather, due to lack of dedicated agents.
This irrigation over five years, when implemented in full, would be in the form of a ring main with each end being supplied by separate pumps at the same offtake point, ensuring constant pressure anywhere within the ring. It would reduce the required size of the delivery mainline by more than half. When required it could be supplied from a single pump as was the case when we planted early tobacco.
When I was not on the farm, our local fertiliser and chemical reps would always visit. In my case, Frank White from Windmill Fertilisers was worth his weight in gold. His fertiliser recommendations and crop monitoring were excellent. After each farm visit, he would join us at the dining room table to share a meal and ideas. Dr Brian Campbell provided excellent advice on crop deficiencies and remedies. He represented RFC (Rhodesian Fertilizer Company), the opposition to Windmill. His doctorate was on the plant’s deficiencies, especially the plant requirements of phosphate. Our area was very deficient in phosphate, our cows would chew stones, a clear sign there was a phosphate deficiency in the grazing. Derek Christmas advised on crop chemicals while Dr EV Cock cattle husbandry and health. When I asked him why he was called EV he said because of his surname and his parents’ lack of diligence. Still no answer. I pressed him further, to be told his first name was Everard. Better to be called EV than “Everhard” Cock.
With the end of the war, at that time the assurance from our new leaders that our land rights and businesses would be respected, we entered into what I call our, “Golden Years.” It was a time of hard work, access to finance and excellent technical support where money could be made. A time before corruption destroyed the parastatal marketing boards, government research and extension still functioned. It lasted for the next 10 years.
Disclaimer: Copyright Peter McSporran. The content in this blog represents my personal views and does not reflect corporate entities.
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