AS SHE attempted to explain the changes that a tiny monetary investment (by our standards) had made to her life, the woman began to cry. “Before, I had nothing. Many times I couldn’t feed my children, or send them to school. Now, thanks to my business, I manage to save a little every week."
Her business amounts only to selling vegetables on the streets of Awassa, a beautiful city in central Ethiopia. But it has brought her dignity and independence, and given her children access to education and a possible escape route from abject poverty.
Sitting around her were about 20 other women: hairdressers, minor livestock traders, food sellers, home-restaurant proprietors and so on.
All female heads of households, with similar tales of how they and their children had been struggling to survive until Goal, working through a local NGO (and with the support of the regional government), helped them develop a business plan and lent them enough money to get started.
It emerged that the lady in question had been tubercular, which explained the pronounced wheeze in her breathing.
Sitting beside her was a young HIV-positive woman of not more than 20 years whose partner had died recently.
A girl in her early teens nursed a smiling baby of about six months.
My travelling companion, Maura Lennon, hugged and comforted the sobbing woman, while I swallowed hard and pretended to have something in my eye. I grew up in poverty, but this was something else altogether.
A few days earlier Maura and I had visited Goal’s street children’s programme in Addis Ababa. There we were greeted by girls, most barely beyond childhood, who live on the streets with their babies, and ragged boys, reminiscent of urchins from a Charles Dickens novel.
One young lad, a tiny, sad-looking 13-year-old, was strikingly intelligent. Able to read and write (in itself a distinct novelty), he used chalk and blackboard to explain to his peers the benefits of a saving scheme. Later he expounded on the dangers of alcohol and cigarettes. Three of Goal’s (women) drivers and a couple of its mechanics are graduates of the street programme, which should inspire all future participants.
I whisper to John Rynne, the country director, that I wouldn’t be surprised if the little 13-year-old ends up running Goal Ethiopia some day. I shiver to think of the life he must lead, and fear for what might actually become of him. He’s too intelligent not to be profoundly affected by his situation.
Rynne is a straight-talking, no-nonsense Drogheda man. A social worker by profession, he has lived in Ethiopia for many years.
He heads an operation that in every sense – organisationally and in its breadth, depth, meticulousness and quality of service – would put most large western corporations in the shade.
He listens patiently to my compliments, but is too honest to accept more than his share of them. He employs over 500 local staff (soon to be boosted by another 200) from whom the majority of his senior management team is drawn.
John explains that nothing would be possible without their talents and commitment, and those of his deputy, Jon Garrard, a Londoner, and another long-term resident of Ethiopia.
The senior management team plans, manages and oversees complex development programmes of various types at numerous locations across Ethiopia.
These range from giving emergency aid to refugees from neighbouring countries currently living in camps at Dolo Ado, to the provision of a safe hostel for the girl pupils of a secondary school located far from home in rural Borena.
Along with much else, Goal digs wells; installs water pumps; builds schools and health centres; tankers water to isolated communities; supports farmers; helps introduce new crops; and mounts or gives support to numerous formal and non-formal education programmes.
Goal’s primary focus in Ethiopia is on helping better the lot of the country’s most marginalised citizens, which inevitably means working mainly with women and children.
Maura, who I’ve known for many years, is in her element. She moves easily among the poor and the downtrodden, forever dispensing comfort and encouragement.
There are no language barriers where Maura is concerned. There is not much need for one-to-one dialogue. Young and old instinctively recognise the goodness and wealth of experience in her smiling face.
This tiny lightly-built woman, with the courage of a lion and a heart the size of Ireland, has dedicated her adult life to humanitarian work.
Some 27 years ago, as a 21-year-old newly qualified nurse, Maura Lennon left Dublin to tend to the victims of a famine in Ethiopia that eventually claimed close to a million lives. She has been with Goal ever since, travelling to some of the most horrendous catastrophes in recent history.
Given all that she has witnessed, I sometimes wonder how Maura has kept faith with humanity, never mind retain her unwavering sense of humour. But I don’t ask.
I content myself with just marvelling at the likes of her, John Rynne and Jon Garrard.
And I take some pride in knowing them.
David Adams travelled to Ethiopia courtesy of Goal