Niger demonstrated that too sharp a focus on market liberalisation and poverty reduction does not always help the hungry, writes James Morris
When pictures of wide-eyed and emaciated African children from Niger began stalking our television screens in July and August this year, the Irish Government and public responded as they have done many times before. Generously.
If any European nation is equipped to understand the impact of food shortages, starvation and destitution, it is Ireland.
The Great Hunger of 1845-50 was not so long ago and the historical footprint it left on the psyche of a nation is too large to ignore. There is an understanding and empathy here, and when hunger rears its head anywhere else in the world, the United Nations World Food Programme is comforted to know that support from Ireland is never far away.
The humanitarian crisis that struck Niger may have resonated even more deeply in Ireland because of the unfortunate parallels with the Great Famine of the mid-19th century. Niger is also a fragile economy, its people living on the edge of hunger. This year they found themselves caught up in the destructive interplay of drought, food shortages and the downside of free-market reform.
Hunger and starvation are rarely the result of one single factor. While the Irish Famine was popularly blamed on the spread of potato blight, most historians have revealed the true complexity of the crisis. Here, as in many contemporary humanitarian crises in Africa, politics, economics and social engineering were also partly to blame.
To the international media, Niger may have appeared to present another simple story of starvation. In recent months, much has been said about the failure of humanitarian agencies to respond in a timely and efficient way to avoid loss of life.
Unfortunately, little effort has been made to try to understand what really went on in Niger and why the crisis almost became a catastrophe.
There are many strands to the story that led to three million people requiring emergency food aid in Niger this year. At a basic level it was a classic "forgotten emergency", which went ignored by the outside world until the levels of suffering crossed a critical threshold and children began dying in unacceptable numbers.
The UN and the government of Niger had spoken repeatedly of an impending disaster, but their words meant nothing until the images of starvation began to appear.
Not only was Niger "forgotten", in many ways perhaps the disaster that occurred there was unsurprising.
The grim reality is that Niger is a place that suffers from chronic food insecurity, a place where food shortages and hunger are part of the very fabric of life. Child mortality is an all too common occurrence, even in what might be termed the "good years".
To put it bluntly, survival in places like Niger is a question of luck. Children will be lucky to survive to the age of five. Adults will be lucky if they live much beyond their mid-40s. These are the findings of the latest UN Human Development Report, which ranks Niger as the poorest country in the world. Perhaps the real question we should be asking ourselves is why don't we care about Niger every year? Of course, other factors also came into play.
In particular, Niger demonstrated that too sharp a focus on market liberalisation and poverty reduction does not always help the hungry. While the market can sometimes offer a benevolent embrace, transforming food-dependent populations into nations of consumers, it is important to recognise that the free market rarely demonstrates humanitarian instincts.
Hungry children are unlikely ever to be leading actors in a market economy, yet often they are its first victims when it fails. Niger demonstrated clearly that even families that had savings were unable to purchase food for their hungry children, because the price of basic items had risen far beyond the reach of most.
Those with long memories will recall that during the Great Hunger in Ireland, the British government held an almost sacred belief in free trade and resolved to avoid emergency interventions in the market, at a time when impoverished Irish farmers could ill afford the exorbitant prices that traders were charging for basic foodstuffs. This led to the patently absurd situation that, during the height of the Famine, Ireland was exporting food while starvation stalked the countryside.
The rest, as they say, is history. Sadly, this year Niger demonstrated that we have still not learnt from the painful lessons of the past. At the peak of the hunger cycle in Niger, the government found itself bereft of supplies to feed its population and unable to buy new supplies from traders, because they had sold all of their stock to markets in neighbouring countries.
What this tells us is that free market reform must always be accompanied by a complementary programme of assistance. In this context, food aid has clear benefits for the poorest of the poor. It is far less open to corruption, since containers of grain do not fit easily into foreign bank accounts and are rarely accepted in payment for luxury cars. Also, food can be carefully targeted directly to women and children. Since they are the ones who suffer most during food shortages - sacrificing their lives and long-term health - directing food to them is critical.
The World Food Programme is in the midst of its second general distribution of monthly rations in Niger. The story has dropped from the news headlines, but the work of assisting up to three million people affected by the food shortages continues.
Niger and its people may now be an afterthought, but crises are emerging elsewhere on the continent, such as in southern Africa where the hungry season is upon us. More than 10 million people across the region are expected to need food aid in the coming months. Malawi in particular has seen dramatic rises in the price of maize, making it difficult for even relatively wealthy families to buy food.
Malawi is not Niger yet, and if action is taken Malawi need not become Niger. But once again, the world is confronted by a creeping emergency and too little money to deal with the problem.
If only we could all learn from our shared knowledge, the tragic legacy of hunger and disaster need not be passed on to yet another generation.
• James T Morris is the executive director of the UN World Food Programme