To workshop hopefully is better than to arrive

To workshop hopefully is better than to do

Someone had been elected a rapporteur, and this morning his proud task was to present a summary of the previous days proceedings at our workshop.

He started by observing all the protocol: identifying the Mayors and Commune Heads, naming the respected facilitators and so on. With this pleasurable duty over, he could read out the full title of the workshop, the dates when it was being held, the sponsor and the name of the organization running the proceedings. Then to his summary: he had to remind all present what the timetable had been the previous day.

That over, he summarized the content of what had been presented yesterday, and the discussions that had taken place, pausing for effect every so often to emphasis the importance of what he was saying.

As it ended, after about 20 minutes, I was thinking “All form and no substance,” and wondering whether I was getting intolerant in my old age. But I knew that the participants would give him a hearty round of applause and then we could get on with the day’s proceedings.

Not a bit of it. Someone complained that he had got the dates wrong. Someone said that he should have mentioned all the different organisations represented, not just the local authorities. Someone else complained that he has summarized his contribution from the floor incorrectly. In brief they squashed him. That took another 20 minutes.

The fact is that workshops are a way of life here. They help us to tick the boxes and affirm that we are really doing something. For the participants they mean a few nights in a nice hotel and generous daily allowances. So the one thing that no one will ever say is that a workshop was not a success, and they will never say that there is no need for another one. There’s always a need for at least one more, and dragging out the proceedings with elaborate protocol, rapporteurs, election of chairmen and similar formalities ensures that we stretch what could probably have been done in one day to three.

It makes one reflect on the tools of the development trade. It all has to start, of course, with a strategic plan, and a vain effort to prescribe what will be done not just next week or next month but three years down the line. But if you don’t have a strategic plan you are considered to be a real amateur.

Then you’ve got to identify implementing agencies. As we all know, the government machine in the Congo is fragile. In fact, a senior civil servant was remarking the other day that there isn’t a government worthy of the name here. The Cabinet met less than five times last year, and cabinet meetings are typically called with half an hour’s notice; papers are not distributed before the meeting, and meetings are typically confined to an hour or two at the most. “So,” he said, his eyes watering in despair, “our so-called government is run by people who cannot think further than one day ahead.” What he really meant was, that it is run by people who are more preoccupied by making money during their term of office than doing their job as government ministers.

So that’s why we donors insist that we each have our own implementing units. The staff are typically paid substantially more than normal civil servants and are well trained in producing the reports in the format that we require. These units purport to be part of the government machine but are, for all practical purposes, independent. The Ministry of Health has received more donor funds than any other, and what is the result? The Ministry proper is a weak, underfunded and unmotivated, but reporting to it, in principle, are 52, yes 52, special units each funded by a donor, and each related to a specific disease. The same thinking applies at the hospital level where you’ll get a gleaming HIV clinic, for example, and filthy wards for everyone else. The Minister of Health pointed out that because a disproportionate amount of money is thrown at the pet projects of the donors, while the amount of money going into health has never been greater, the treatment patients get is worse than it was twenty years ago.

Maybe we should prepare a strategic plan to reintegrate the Ministry of Health. And how do we do that? Have lots of workshops, of course.