Africa

A Somali resident sells meat at a market in Hudur, where food shortages continue to cause suffering. Meanwhile, between 720 and 811 million people in the world faced hunger in 2020 – some 161 million more than for 2019 – the UN Secretary-General said July 12; “new, tragic data”, which indicates the world is “tremendously off track” to achieve the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) by 2030. Credit: UN Photo/Tobin Jones

By Jan Servaes and Muhammad Jameel Yusha'u
BRUSSELS, Belgium / JEDDAH, Saudi Arabia, Jul 30 2021 (IPS)

A short answer to this question is yes, but it is obvious and predictable failure was visible for some time. This debate started before 2015, the year in which the Sustainable Development Goals (or SDGs) were adopted as successors to the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) agreed in 2000. The 8 MDGs were expanded to 17 massive goals and 169 targets.

Using projections from international organizations such as the World Bank, the OECD and the WHO, the British Overseas Development Institute (ODI) already quantified in 2015 how much the world would need to accelerate current trends to achieve the SDGs by 2030.

The targets were given a ‘grade’, based on the expected progress. An ‘A’ rating meant that current progress is sufficient to meet the target, ‘B’, ‘C’, ‘D’ and ‘E’ numbers need to go up a notch. An “F” number indicates that the world is going in the wrong direction.

None of the 17 SDGs was rated A. Only three SDGs, — SDG1 (no poverty), SDG8 (economic growth and decent jobs) and SDG15 (biodiversity) — were rated B. SDG 3 (health for all), 4 (quality education), 16 (peace, justice and strong institutions), 17 (partnerships for the goals), 2 (no hunger), 6 (water and sanitation), 7 (energy), 5 (gender) and 9 (industrialization) all received an average C grade. SDGs 10 (inequality), 11 (cities), 12 (waste), 13 (climate change) and 14 (oceans) were all unsatisfactory.

In other words, only 3 of the 17 SDGs were on track to achieve a reasonably acceptable outcome by 2030. This score was developed in 2015, long before COVID-19 hit.

With the devastating effect of COVID-19 on nearly every sector of the global economy, it is clear that achieving the SDGs by 2030 is virtually impossible. Moreover, addressing development goals by nation states is more difficult than was recognized by the authors of the 2030 Agenda for Development.

For example, a study by Lin and Monga (2017) concluded that between 1950 and 2008, only 28 countries managed to reduce their gap with the United States by 10 percent or more. That is a period of 58 years, while the 2030 agenda must be realized within 15 years. Of the 28 countries listed by Lin and Monga, only 12 were non-European or non-oil economies.

According to Lin and Monga, the challenge of renewing developing countries’ economies is inseparable from some of the intellectual and policy errors imposed by the Washington consensus in the 1970s to 1990s, the years described as the lost decade for developing countries.

Banerjee and Duflo (2019), who shared the 2019 Nobel Prize in Economics for their work on poverty alleviation, in fact emphasized how economists designing development policies are out of touch with the realities of ordinary people.

In a more recent analysis, published in the authoritative World Development, Moyer and Hedden (2020) also question how feasible the SDGs are under the current circumstances. They highlight difficulties for some SDG indicators (access to safe sanitation, high school completion, and underweight children) that will not be resolved without a significant shift in domestic and international aid policies and prioritization.

In addition, Moyer and Hedden cite 28 particularly vulnerable countries that are not expected to meet any of the nine human development targets. These most vulnerable countries should be able to count on international aid and therefore financial support.

In our view, the realization of the 2030 agenda can only be achieved on the basis of three factors.

The first is financing. The critical question that is posed in various forums about the SDGs invariably ends with the question: who is going to fund it? Where will the money come from? How can low- and middle-income countries generate sufficient resources to finance the 2030 development agenda.

Although each country has its own priorities, paying the bills for the SDGs remains a delicate matter. The Asia-Europe Foundation calculated (2020: 6) that “the total investment costs to achieve the SDGs by 2030 are between USD 5 and USD 7 trillion per year at the global level and between a total of USD 3.3 and USD 4.5 trillion per year in developing countries.

This implies an average investment need of USD 2.5 trillion per year in developing countries. To better understand the real financial needs of the SDGs, these countries should prepare their own estimates, at least for their priority objectives”.

A significant effort must be made through the private sector and philanthropists. While governments and ordinary people have been hit hard by the health and economic impact of COVID-19, in a way it has been good news for billionaires, many of whom have seen their wealth grow astronomically.

A report from the Washington-based Institute of Policy Studies (IPS) shows that US billionaires have seen their wealth grow by $1 trillion between March and November 2020. Amazon’s owner Jeff Bezos’ net worth increased 61 percent between March and November 2020, from $113 billion to $182.4 billion.

The report added that just three years ago, there was not a single multi-billionaire, that is, a person with a net worth of more than $100 billion. Since November 2020, at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, there are now at least 5 multi-billionaires; namely Jeff Bezos of Amazon, Bernard Arnault, president of Louis Vuitton; Bill Gates, founder of Microsoft; Mark Zuckerberg of Facebook; and Elon Musk of Tesla (Huffington Post 2020).

These billionaires, along with the more than 2,000 billionaires from around the world, are wealthy enough to help make substantial progress in some of the SDGs.

The second important factor that can help achieve the SDGs is political will. Many countries have drawn up ambitious national development plans that look great on paper. How many of those plans end up being realized?

When one sees that the fortunes of a country have been successfully changed through the effective implementation of national plans, one cannot separate such achievements from the strong political will of the leaders. The example of China speaks for itself.

The crucial question to be asked is whether that political will is there. UN Secretary-General, Antonio Guterres, responded to a mid-term review of the Sustainable Development Goals (UN 2020): “It is inevitable that one crucial ingredient is still missing. Political will. Without political will, neither the public opinion, nor the stakeholders take sufficient action”. This is where the challenge to achieve the SDGs lies, i.e. a real political will.

The third factor is the need for robust communication for development and social change, so that political will can be conveyed to all stakeholders. Leaders who inspire change do so with the communication tools available in their time.

While the digital age disrupts social systems and drives transformation at a scale and pace unparalleled in history, the SDGs remain quite silent on the subject. Indeed, today digital technologies determine what we read and consume, how we vote and how we interact with each other and the world around us.

Many risks and uncertainties are emerging, including threats to individual rights, social justice and democracy, all amplified by ‘the digital divide’ – the differential speed of internet penetration and access to digital technologies around the world.

None of the SDGs can be achieved unless people are able to communicate their dreams, concerns and needs – locally, nationally, regionally, globally. We therefore propose to supplement the list with SDG 18: Communication for all.

Communications for social change in the era of COVID-19 must also consider the challenge of misinformation when initiating communication strategies. Therefore, the communication strategies of the World Bank, UNICEF or WHO are not comprehensive enough.

First, they failed to take into account the challenges of infodemics and fake news in addressing the COVID-19 pandemic. The second shortcoming is that the strategies contain little scientific communication to make the public aware of how health professionals make decisions and advise the public about its safety. Disinformation is a critical factor that exacerbates the challenges that communication for development and social change must address.

For all these reasons, the UN and the rest of the international community need to be realistic and review the 2030 Agenda for Development by shifting the timeline from 2030 to 2050.

Some regional organizations, such as the African Union, have already set the date for achieving their development goals to 2063 (https://au.int/en/agenda2063/sdgs).

The SDGs should be prioritized with SDG1 on the eradication of extreme poverty as the main objective for the next 10 years. Eradicating extreme poverty is likely to have implications for other SDGs, in particular SDGs 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6.

Efforts to eradicate extreme poverty should not be based on slogans, but should be supported by governments, funding agencies, donors and philanthropists are seen as the best chance to save humanity. The intellectual errors and policies imposed on low- and middle-income countries, which plunge them further into the abyss of underdevelopment, must be avoided.

Serious thought should be accorded to the post COVID19 world due to the impact of the lockdown on the global economy. Some governments, multinational institutions and private sector are hastening to institutionalize remote work before the pandemic ends.

As an interim major, working from home has contributed significantly in reducing the impact of the pandemic, but what is the impact of working from home on the future of work in a post-COVID-19 World?

Will the closure of offices, firms and other businesses for remote work accelerate or reduce the chances of achieving the SDGs? Is there sufficient data to back the policy decisions on a permanent remote work culture? How does this affect the employability of low and unskilled workers?

These are questions that policy makers must think through. The SDGs are meant to promote social inclusion and reduce inequality, not to save money and increase profitability.

Setting the timeline for the achievement of the SDGs to 2050 will allow sufficient time to re-evaluate progress made so far, complete missing objectives, such as SDG 18 on communication for all, and bridge the lost ground of the SDGs.

It will also give the global community ample time to strategize on how to deal with the potential rise of right-wing, populist and nationalist governments such as Bolsonaro, Duterte or Trump’s, which may impose limits on the SDGs through their disdain for multilateralism. And plans must also be made in advance to mitigate the next disasters that could impair the achievement of the SDGs.

Jan Servaes was UNESCO-Chair in Communication for Sustainable Social Change at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. He taught ‘international communication’ and ‘communication for sustainable social change’ in Australia, Belgium, China, Hong Kong, the US, Netherlands and Thailand, in addition to short-term projects at about 120 universities in 55 countries.

Muhammad Jameel Yusha’u is an international development expert and former journalist with the BBC World Service, London. He was the Managing Editor of Africa Policy Journal at Harvard Kennedy School, USA and one-time Senior Lecturer in Media and Politics at Northumbria University, UK; he has taught Mass Communications at Bayero University, Kano, Nigeria.

This text is based on Muhammad Jameel Yusha’u & Jan Servaes (eds.).
The Palgrave Handbook of International Communication and Sustainable Development, Palgrave MacMillan, 2021, ISBN 978-3-030-69769-3, https://www.palgrave.com/gp/book/9783030697693

 

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A selection of the week's best photos from across the continent and beyond.

The man reading is a displaced man in the IDP camp ISP in Bunia. Credit: Elena L. Pasquini

By Elena L. Pasquini
ROME, Jul 29 2021 (IPS)

He moves aside the curtain, thin as gauze, and then bends over. The darkness dazzles for a few seconds when one enters the house—actually, a den made of earth where air and light filter through the narrow entrance. Jean de Dieu Amani Paye holds her tiny baby, wrapped in an elegant fabric, in his arms. He was a teacher of French and Latin and had a small business. He also cultivated the land: cassava, corn, sorghum, and beans.

Now he is a leader of the ISP camp on the outskirts of Bunia, the capital of the province of Ituri, where internally displaced people take shelter. His struggle is not only to survive but to also help those who have nothing left except a memory of horror. His struggle is against “grudges.”

“There are always grudges that remain in people’s hearts because they see the living conditions we lead here,” he explains. “If we think about what has happened since we arrived, it throws us into regret.” He escaped, having to leave behind everything, like almost two million other people in what is one of the worst and most forgotten humanitarian crises on the planet. He left his village due to the conflict in the region’s countryside, at the extreme north-east of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, on the border with Uganda, where the green of the forest blends with the ocher and red of the land.

Bile Luchobe and the men and women who have reached the camps of Bunia from the territories of Djugu and Irumu explain what feeds the rancor. “They go around with the heads of those who kill and mutilate their bellies, then leave the bodies there, among the trees. The houses are burning down. It is impossible to remain in these conditions, so I fled,” she says. “They kill a person and eat his heart. It’s impossible to stay in a place like that.”

Since May of this year, the Congolese government has decreed a state of siege in an attempt to control a conflict that returns in waves like a damnation—from 1998 to 2003, and then until 2007. In 2017, there were less than 500,000 displaced people; now they number 1.7 million in a region slightly smaller than Ireland. The peak came in June 2020, when the brutality of the armed groups emptied the villages. Civilians are targets; terror and rape are weapons of war. A war too often described–in a manner akin to throwing alcohol on a fire–as simply the result of an ancestral hatred.

Bile fears that what happened in Djugu might happen here. “For women, whether you run away or not, these bandits will catch you, they will rape you. Even if there are ten people, they will all pass over you,” she says. She experiences panic attacks because in this patch of land, which should host four thousand people but lodges more than twelve thousand, the gunshots at night offer a reminder that war is not far.

Jean de Dieu Amani Paye. Credit: Elena L. Pasquini

The ISP – where Jean de Dieu, secretary of the camp’s steering committee, lives – was set up through the efforts of displaced people on the properties of Bunia’s Institut Supérieur Pédagogique and the Catholic diocese. They have built small shelters with reeds and mud on the slope of a hill, so close to each other that it’s hard to walk between them. There are also large common areas, a hangar crowded with too many souls. The ISP is not the only IDPs camp in Bunia. Kigonze is home to a growing number of persons. It has been established in 2019 by humanitarian organizations to receive those who lived on other sites now closed and to decongest the overcrowded ISP. It can be reached along a junky dirt road that cuts through cultivated land. There are no mud houses at Kigonze; instead, there are tarapulins, silvery and dazzling under the African sun.

Jean de Dieu comes from a small town near Walendu Bindi. He fled with his family, whose older members carried the children on their backs, on a Saturday afternoon in February 2018. They had not even a sweet potato to eat. The family knew that the militiamen had set fire to the houses in a nearby village and that the violence would eventually reach them. They fled all night, until the morning. “We waited for a truce. We wanted to return, at least to get some water. We learned that bandits had returned, had taken the goats, burned houses, and taken away the many things left.” He talks with his legs curled up and his back leaning against the intensely yellow wall of the room where his household members sleep and eat. “We still live here, despite the living conditions.”

Those who flee want to get to Bunia, which is safer than the rural centers. IDPs sites, although potential targets, are patrolled by police and soldiers from the United Nations peacekeeping mission. However, a hiss is enough to generate panic. “If you hear the shots of the bullets 7 km from where you are, why can’t they get here? It is close to us,” Jean de Dieu says.

“The camp is open, there is no fence. It can be crossed; people pass from left to right. We don’t really know who they are. The assailants have already entered the city,” François Mwanza Lwanga adds with concern. He is among the leaders of the ISP camp, too. He is the president of the committee. He fled with his family and his very young baby—only two weeks old—from Sanduku, almost a hundred kilometers from Bunia. Reaching the city took them three days on foot. It was February 2018.

Bile Luchobe. Credit: Elena L. Pasquini

Elena Mbusi is sitting with Bile in front of her small house, a mirror nestled in the mud wall. She wears a blue dress with white motifs and puff sleeves. A beautifully knotted brown scarf adorns her head. A small crowd of youth throngs beside them. “I was not afraid, but this war is killing our children. This is the biggest loss,” she says. Elena arrived at the ISP on February 12, 2018, from Bahema Baguli and she is part of the team that organizes the life at the camp, too. Like Bile, hygienist. “We are here but we are really afraid. Several people send us messages saying that the fighting will reach us in the city, at the camp. But may they have mercy on us!”

The two women stand and slowly walk through the narrow alleys, up to a widening at the top of the hill where the wind blows and the smoke rises from the braziers on which food is cooked. Children play silently and the cassava dries in the sun on an immense cream-colored sheet. The hangar where Bile lives is not far away. It is a common house made of mud and wooden boards through which a very clear light filters through. A wall is covered with sacks and cloths that seem to gather all the colors of Africa. Children wash themselves in plastic basins while their mothers knead cassava flour to make foufou, a kind of soft grit or porridge. Bile, who lives at the ISP with her seven grandchildren and many other relatives, is frightened by the night crackle of firearms. “I’m afraid of almost everything. I am traumatized and to hear that what happened to Djugu is happening here… When I remember what happened in my village, I have panic attacks,” she says.

Only minor traumas can be relieved at the camps. When the conditions are too serious, patients are referred to the local hospital, while a Congolese non-governmental organization, Sofepadi, takes care of women victims of sexual exploitation, as Josèphine Atibaguwe, a nurse at the Kigonze camp, explains.

Fear paralyzes. Those who live in the camp know that. Outside, insecurity does not cease. There’s nothing to do but wait and hope that food aid, never enough, won’t be lacking. Leaving the camp is a risk that very few take. Children, on the other hand, beg in the city center, becoming easy prey for being recruited into armed groups. The sites where displaced people live mark the boundary between the city and the countryside, but the countryside is inaccessible. “Before, we would have gone to the fields near [Bunia] as day laborers, but those who have the courage to cross the Shali bridge never come back. If you go far, they can kill you for nothing,” explains Rachel Turache, a mother of five who lives in Kigonze and comes from Liseyi. She represents those who live in the bloc, 1 sector B.

“This life is too difficult,” Francois says. “We seem to be people without responsibility because we no longer depend on ourselves but on NGOs. We are unemployed and do not work. Our intelligence continues to decline. Children’s behavior is also changing.” The clothes hanging from the ceiling of his house, the pots in a corner next to a small stove where food is cooked by burning dark spheres of charcoal that dry in the sun, made of coal and water by women and children: Francois tells how hard it is. For his wife, it would be a problem if she could not find the pagne, a large piece of fabric women use to grid their hips. Those who are married wear it, a visible form of dignity and respect.

“It is not the life lived in the village. We ate well there,” recalls François. The children grew up well, while now, childhood malnutrition is rampant. In Kigonze, there is a feeding session every Wednesday for the most severe cases of acute malnutrition. Children are fed pre-prepared food made of peanuts, milk, and other ingredients. It’s cold at night, in Kigonze, and too hot during the day. Mosquitoes bring diseases. At the medical center, Josephine wears a pure white gown and distributes drugs: “The cases we record are mainly malaria, diarrhea, and, in children, malnutrition,” she explains. No Covid cases until now, but only fever and cough, and no plague, which has returned in Aru.

Charcoal balls. Credit: Elena L. Pasquini

The houses of Kigonze are in parallel rows and overlook avenues where a little activity flows: a few motorbikes, small shops that sell everything, women crushing cassava leaves In a mortar, cassava is ground by noisy millstones. The longed-for life is that of rural Africa: lush, blessed yet tortured, where food is at war with minerals, where gold, agriculture, and livestock struggle to share the same land. Bile, who was a primary school teacher, farmed the land after work, as Rachel used to do.

“We try to live despite everything; certainly, this is not the life we led in our villages,” explains Rachel, her hands resting on a yellow pagne, a splash of color in the monotony of Kigonze’s light-colored shelters. The rhinestones on her blouse sparkle as she recounts what the war has destroyed, the mornings when she woke up early to look after the cattle before going to the fields, and the evenings spent sustaining the family income with a small business. “My greatest passion was feeding my cattle,” adds Michel Kiza Barongo, who sits next to Rachel in a pink plastic chair under a canopy. He comes from Fataki and was a village chief. Now, he is the chief of the bloc 15, sector B.

Accepting dependence on others, to lose what has been painstakingly built, is hard. Some try to go back, those who do not want to leave their homes, even if a truce does not necessarily mean peace. A few have managed to move back to their former lives. When Jean de Dieu’s village was attacked, not everyone reached Bunia immediately; some returned for the space of a season. “They also cultivated the fields, but as harvest time approached, [the violence] erupted again,” says Jean de Dieu. “As leaders and representatives, we are reassuring people by telling them that what happens today will pass, that they can stay in this situation because if they leave, they will continue to face other dangerous situations.”

Kigonze has a steering committee, like the ISP: displaced people who help other displaced people, together with local and international organizations, UNHCR, WFP, Caritas, and IOM. There is who is in charge of health, of women, spare time and children, or surveillance. At the ISP, there are thirty-eight avenues, streets, or “blocs,” each with its own leader.

They try to convince those who live in the camp to stay and break the spiral that leads to never-ending displacement, but they also try to tackle the hardest task: helping people bear the weight of suffering and not getting swallowed by another spiral, the one leading from rancor to violence. “What we are doing here is raising awareness to relieve their tension. We give advice so that displaced persons do not participate in demonstrations here and there in the city and so that they know how to deal with stress because everyone here has their own story,” Francois explains. There are stories like that of Bernadette Ngaji, a sixty-three-year-old from Largukwa, who witnessed violence and looting. She sits on the ground, on the threshold of her house in the Kigonze camp. The brown pagne decorated in purple and beige lies like a blanket on her outstretched legs, which she struggles to bend. Three bullets created a long scar on her left leg, which she must use as a pivot to get up. The right leg is marked by burns that look like faded petals. “In my village, I was a hard worker. I had my own shop; I was selling fuel and I had three vehicles and everything has been burned… I’m here as a disabled victim of the war,” she says. Bernadette does not leave the camp because outside it would be worse. She will flee only if war reaches her there. Elena stays, too. “I can’t go back there, not in this insecurity. If there is a return of peace, of course, I will go back.”

In the darkness of the displaced lives, dazzling as when entering the cramped houses, one clings to Michel’s concise words: “It was the mutual help between the populations that struck me more.” Solidarity within a conflict whose reasons no one, from the ISP to Kigonze, can explain. Trying to understand them means unraveling a tangle of threads that from Bunia—the capital besieged by the desperation of those seeking refuge and sustained by the courage of those who struggle to weave the web of peace with those same threads—leads to rural villages and, then, much farther.

Nagaji Bernadette. Credit: Elena L. Pasquini

This feature was first published by Degrees of Latitude
Akilimali Saleh Chomachoma as producer and Sahwili interpreter

 

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Elena Pasquini filming somewhere in the AKIgonze IDPs camp in the outskirts of Bunia in Ituri. Credit: Elena Pasquini

By Sania Farooqui
NEW DELHI, India, Jul 29 2021 (IPS)

The Democratic Republic of Congo is one of the most hostile and dangerous regions for journalists. A complex conflict, deeply rooted in the country’s past, allows very little freedom, both movement and the press.

“There are multiple actors involved, and as a journalist, we have the duty of admitting this complexity,” says Elena Pasquini, founder and editor in chief of Degrees of Latitude, in an interview with IPS. “Be aware of the difficulties when it comes to understanding the issues, and be careful of every single word we use to portray this conflict.”

Pasquini, who reported from the DRC earlier this year, says the risk of reporting from such a conflict zone is not just physical, not just a question of safety, but also highlights the responsibility journalists have in their work and how they cover a story.

“For a journalist and a foreigner, it’s really important to understand when a situation is potentially risky and identify the threats at an early stage. I was worried while travelling along roads that I knew were home to armed groups. I was scared each time I was stopped at a checkpoint and while interacting with the police or even walking in areas where kidnappings occur frequently,” Pasquini says. “It’s important to learn from the local colleagues and adapt our behaviour according to the local environments.”

Elena Pasquini travelling with the UN peacekeeping mission, somewhere in Irumu territory, Ituri. Credit: Elena Pasquini

According to Journalists in Danger (JED), Reporters Without Borders (RSF) partner organisation in the DRC, at least 115 press freedom violations were logged in 2020. This report by RSF tells of how several journalists had been detained in response to complaints by provincial governors. A former minister sued one of RSF’s correspondents. Armed groups prevalent in the east of the country have attacked, threatened, or forced journalists into hiding. One journalist was killed.

“A journalist who has gone missing, his family members were informed by an armed group that he had been executed three days after abducting him,” the report says. “Journalists with many online followers have been the victims of smear campaigns.”

Women are often victims of abuse and violence, and in the DRC, rape is a weapon of war, says Pasquini. Crowded areas in the DRC are often chaotic and hotspots for fights, protests, and gatherings, which can turn deadly.

While covering a protest against an alleged extrajudicial execution, Pasquini had no choice but to trust the instinct of her local driver, who asked her to immediately stop filming, roll up the car windows and not make eye contact with anyone outside.

“At that point, I didn’t think about the weapons or the machetes the people surrounding our car could have had. I don’t know if I would have been a target or not, but I simply followed my driver’s instructions and got out safely. It’s truly the fixers, producers and the drivers who make the difference and can save your life in such situations,” Pasquini says.

Earlier in February this year, the Italian Ambassador to the Democratic Republic of Congo, Luca Attanasio, was killed. According to this report, the United Nations convoy he was travelling in came under fire near Goma, killing him, an Italian military police officer and a Congolese driver.

Pasquini was amongst the few international journalists present in the DRC at the time and had travelled along the same route and with the same convoy just a few days before the attack on the Italian Ambassador.

“That road connects Goma to Uganda, and it’s as dangerous as any area would be in a conflict zone. It is very difficult to have an idea of what really happened, but from my experience, I can say kidnapping to get ransom is very common on that side.”

“I hope the investigation will lead to the discovery of who is behind the attack of the Ambassador, it is hard, and impunity is common. Every day such crimes are committed, and it is very rare that someone is convicted for those crimes, or even just identified,” says Pasquini.

Over the years, multiple conflicts which escalated in the eastern part of the DRC forced almost 6000 people to flee their homes, making this crisis “the largest number of new displacements due to conflict in the world”.

“DR Congo is one of the worst humanitarian crises of the 21st century. A lethal combination of spiralling violence, record hunger levels and total neglect has ignited a mega-crisis that warrants a mega-response. But instead, millions of families on the brink of the abyss seem to be forgotten by the outside world and are left shut off from any support lifeline,” the Secretary-General of Norwegian Refugee Council, Jan Egeland, said in a statement.

A residential area in Goma, North Kivu. Volcano Nyragongo seen in the background. Credit: Elena Pasquini

Human Rights Watch (HRW) estimates that there are 5.5 million internally displaced people in the country. Nearly 930,000 people from Congo were registered as refugees and asylum seekers in at least 20 countries worldwide. Numerous armed groups and, in some cases, government security forces attack civilians, killing and wounding many.

“Several thousand fighters from various armed groups surrendered throughout the year, but many have returned to armed groups as the authorities failed to take them through an effective Disarmament, Demobilization, and Reintegration (DDR) program. In many instances, armed assailants were also responsible for sexual violence against women and girls, HRW said.

In May, DRC President Felix Tshisekedi proclaimed a “state of siege” in North Kivu and neighbouring Ituri province to counter growing attacks and fights against armed groups.

Despite efforts by the government, violence and insecurity continue to threaten the safety of journalists in this region. JED & RSF have called out the DRC’s government to prioritise two major reforms to keep its promise to improve press freedom and create mechanisms designed to ensure rapid response to violations and follow up at the highest level. It also asked the government to establish a communication channel with press freedom groups and step up its protection for journalists, and combat impunity.

“The lack of legislation that can protect freedom of the press remains a challenge in the DRC. The level of violence is very high, so you have to put in place a lot of safety measures and do what you can to protect yourself,” says Pasquini.

“We need to keep the spotlight on the DRC and keep the attention on what’s happening in that country. Due to the ongoing conflict, it is already very dangerous to travel, to go to those places where stories are happening. It’s also very tough to verify information,” Pasquini says. “There are multiple threats from various armed groups, various checkpoints all over the region, institutional threats of defamation, they all make it very tough to tell the story, and that’s why we need to tell those stories even more.”

 

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Forces in Amhara are battling rebels on three fronts along the border with Tigray, officials say.

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View of Standard Gauge Railway, at Mlolongo from Nairobi National Park, Kenya. Credit: Backrop Ke / Flickr

By External Source
NAIROBI, Jul 29 2021 (IPS)

Kenya is constructing a railway line that connects the coastal port of Mombasa and the interior of the country. It is expected to terminate at Malaba, a town on the border with Uganda, and link up with other railways that are being built in East Africa. It’s locally known as the Standard Gauge Railway (SGR).

The passenger and freight railway line is one of the biggest infrastructure investments in Kenya’s history. Construction began in 2014 at an estimated cost of US$3.8 billion, 90% of which is supplied by a loan from the Export-Import (Exim) Bank of China and 10% from the Kenyan government.

Although the actual land area affected by the railway itself is small, parts of it are raised and it cuts through a wide range of the country’s ecologically fragile and important ecosystems. For instance, the railway cuts across Tsavo Conservation Area (which supports about 40% of Kenya’s elephant population) and the Nairobi National Park. It also traverses range lands in southern Kenya that support pastoral communities and are vulnerable to the impacts of climate and changes in land use.

My colleagues and I carried out a study to gain insights into all the impacts the railway was having on the environment.

The construction of the railway is being done in three phases. The first two phases (now completed) cover 610km. The third phase is still under construction. Our study focused along the entire stretch of the first two phases, covering eight counties from Mombasa to Narok.

Map of the railway corridor.

The project involves many stakeholders including various levels of government (such as the National Environment Management Authority and Kenya Wildlife Service), local communities, civil society organisations and the private sector. For our study, we hosted group interviews and meetings with 54 key informants from all these sectors.

We found that the construction and operation of the railways has degraded, fragmented and destroyed key ecosystems. It increased soil erosion, land degradation, flooding and habitat destruction. It also affected water bodies and wildlife movement.

Environmental impact assessments for the railway were conducted, and these are of an international standard. The final reports, which included recommendations, were written to facilitate licensing by the National Environment Management Authority, the government regulator.

However, it’s become clear that the recommendations weren’t fully implemented. Several observers identified a lack of funding, technical capacity and political interference as some of the barriers.

Project proponents must develop measures that properly mitigate the key ecosystem challenges and ensure they’re enforced.

 

Impact on land

Participants in our study identified that the railway line had an impact on soil, water and air contamination, during construction and operation of the line.

During construction, soil was compacted and excavated. It was also moved from one location to another to erect embankments. This has many effects on the environment. For instance, Community Forest Association officials (around the coastal mangrove forests in Mombasa) observed that sediment, eroded from the rail embankments, affected streams and plants. They said that:

not only did it affect mangroves seed development and self-germination but also blocked streams and reduced the stream size…

Another challenge was that underpasses were built to allow for movement under the railway. This is because the railway is raised. But these underpasses redirected surface water and rainfall courses. Respondents from Narok county observed that this led to erosion, leading to the siltation of water sources, including Lake Magadi – a unique saline, alkaline lake which is surrounded by wildlife and a major source of trona. This is a sodium carbonate compound that is processed into soda ash or bicarbonate of soda.

Another impact was the blasting of land for construction material. Communities around Nairobi said that this caused tremors, sometimes causing buildings to crack.

 

Flooding

Floods have been a major challenge. To avoid cutting through the railway embankments, contractors rerouted natural surface water flows (such as streams) to the underpasses.

But this led to increases in the volume and speed of the water flow which caused flooding and soil erosion. This was compounded by the clearing of surrounding vegetation, which would usually slow water down.

In Voi, county officials explained how storm water flooded low lying homesteads and farms during heavy rains.

A blocked river in Kitengela.

In addition, silt from construction led to the blockage or drying up of rivers, notably the Empakashe and Mbagathi rivers around Nairobi. Most communities in these areas rely on the rivers for domestic consumption, watering their livestock and irrigation agriculture.

 

Pollution

Another concern was oil spills. These occurred due to fuel transport accidents and because of train and railway maintenance activities.

For instance, local officials in Kibwezi County said that an oil spill polluted the Thange River. Now the river can’t be used for irrigation or domestic purposes. The land in the affected area is still unsafe for cultivation.

Noise pollution was also reported during construction and operation of the railway, particularly in the areas around Nairobi and Voi. Some communities were unable to sleep and school classes were disrupted due to the noise levels.

Dust pollution was an additional challenge. There were reports of coughs and chest pain.

Communities relying on wetlands and rivers in Voi, Kibwezi, Tuala and Narok areas lost access to some of these critical resources, and the long-term prospects are unclear.

An additional impact of the railway was the emergence of illegal activities, such as grazing in protected areas.

Officials of the Kenya Wildlife Service observed that:

local communities {were} using the underpasses to pass their livestock through to Tsavo National Park particularly around Buchuma gate.

The livestock incursions resulted in serious soil degradation in the southern part of Tsavo East.

Wildlife was also affected. About 120km of the line traverses through a key wildlife area, Kenya’s Tsavo National Park.

We learnt that elephants displayed early signs of behavioural modification. This included aggression and avoidance of the railway area.

Photo: trapped young bull #elephant between the SGR #railway & fence line on May 2017 in #Tsavo, showing some of the immense challenges for wildlife due to the expanding “human footprint.” The fence line needs further thought, to avoid harm to elephants https://t.co/QlDRFp3LG3 pic.twitter.com/yoUs59a43F

— Biodiversityloss (@BiodiversitySoS) March 2, 2018

These are consistent with behavioural adaptations observed among other species which shift their home ranges or alter their movement patterns due to infrastructure.

 

What next

Linear infrastructure projects like the railway must develop sustainable and ecologically sensitive measures to mitigate these impacts.

For example, underpasses must be at the right density and of the right size. At present, the underpasses are few and are located in areas not used regularly by wildlife.

In addition, water courses should be channelled and redirected to avoid flooding.

Furthermore another full assessment, involving all stakeholders, is needed of the environmental impacts of the railway. This is key to designing a sustainable railway. It must ensure that development gains are maximised while the ecosystem impacts are minimised.

Tobias Nyumba, Post Doctoral Research Fellow, University of Nairobi

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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By Trevor Page
LETHBRIDGE, Canada, Jul 29 2021 (IPS)

From an international humanitarian perspective, the first half of 2021 has been disappointing. We’re no further ahead in ending the conflict in Syria and Yemen. From the fledgling democracy that it had become, Myanmar has descended into what most of its people had hoped was a bygone era of military rule. And in Ethiopia, where its Prime Minister, Ably Ahmed, was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2019, armed conflict in Tigray is preventing the 2020 winners of the very same prize, the World Food Programme, from delivering the food needed to stop at least 350,000 Ethiopians from starving to death.

Trevor Page

These are not the only conflicts raging in 2021. There are many in Africa and a few still linger on in Asia and South America. And once again, Afghanistan, the country that defied Alex the Great, the Brits, the Russians and now the Americans and NATO, is set to move center stage on the humanitarian front.

Since its founding in 1945, Canada has always looked to the United Nations to head off armed conflict and to alleviate the human suffering that it causes. That includes preventing the use of hunger as a weapon of war. Canada’s contribution to UN peacebuilding has dropped considerably since 1970, when its proposal for 0.7% of a donor country’s GNI was accepted as the target for foreign aid. Nevertheless, it is still among the top five donors to the World Food Programme. Canadians expect the UN to do its job.

UN Secretary General, Antonio Guterres and WFP Executive Director, David Beasley, have repeatedly warned that unless war and armed conflict is ended, people could starve to death in several countries. They have appealed to the leaders of opposing sides and those fighting proxy wars to let UN humanitarians and their NGO partners do their job. In early February 2021, soon after the fighting started in Ethiopia’s Tigray Region, David Beasley visited Addis Ababa. He was assured that immediate access to Tigray would be granted for WFP and other humanitarian workers, as well as safe passage for its convoys of food aid trucks. Well, that didn’t happen for months. The first WFP plane with humanitarian workers only landed in Makelle, Tigray’s capital, on July 22. As for the convoys of WFP food aid trucks, they’re frequently attacked or blocked en route and don’t have anything like free passage.

So why is the UN so ineffective at ending conflicts, or even getting access granted for humanitarian supplies? It’s all to do with the principles on which the UN was founded: noninterference in the internal affairs of sovereign States. So, are UN humanitarians just supposed to stand by when a government decides to attack and kill off some of its citizens, or let large numbers starve to death when famine looms? No, not since the World Summit of 2005, when governments unanimously adopted R2P or the Responsibility to Protect.

In the aftermath of the 1994 Rwanda genocide and the 1995 Srebrenica massacre, UN Secretary General Kofi Annan insisted that the traditional notions of sovereignty had been redefined: “States are now widely understood to be instruments at the service of their peoples”, he argued. In his report “We the People” on the role of the United Nations in the 21st Century, he posed the following question: “If humanitarian intervention is, indeed, an unacceptable assault on sovereignty, how should we respond to a Rwanda, to a Srebrenica – to gross and systematic violations of human rights that offend every precept of our common humanity?”

Yet despite the widespread human suffering in Syria, Yemen, Myanmar and Ethiopia, the Responsibility to Protect has not been invoked. More work needs to be done on R2P, including an expansion of its scope. So too on “humanitarian intervention”, which does not always require the deployment of foreign forces to mitigate human suffering. And the voluntary agreement by P5 Security Council members (Britain, China, France Russia and the United States) to withhold their veto power when resolutions to stop genocide and crimes against humanity are being considered is another ad hoc effort to prevent the wholesale slaughter of humankind. But with more and more ordinary people around the world standing up and making it known to their governments that crimes against humanity and dying from starvation is not acceptable, it is clear that the piecemeal approach that we’ve cobbled together over the last half-century falls well short of today’s expectations. A total overhaul and reorganization of the UN humanitarian system is required as a first step.

In September, when the UN General Assembly reconvenes, Antonio Guterres will be reconfirmed as UN Secretary General. For the next 5 years, he will have the opportunity to bring about some the changes to the UN System that he keeps speaking about without having to worry if any of the P5 will oppose his second term in office. He will have to move fast on Agenda 2030, the 17 Sustainable Development Goals, or SDGs. With less than a decade to go, these are far from being attained. We must reduce inequality; it’s a major cause of conflict.

Covid-19 is the biggest challenge the world has faced since the Spanish Flu, a century ago. It has affected everyone and everything we do. It has increased the number of food insecure people around the world by149 million, according to WFP; so close on 1 billion of us now go to bed hungry. And despite anti-Covid vaccines having been developed in record time, variants will keep emerging and we’ll be playing catch-up for years to come.

Climate change, an even bigger challenge, is already on us and is set to intensify. Extreme weather has devastated parts of north-western America and neighbouring Canada this Spring resulting in unbearably high heat and wildfires. Abnormal floods in China and Germany have resulted in unusually high mortality and devastated towns and cities in both countries.

So, while 2021 will end up as a disappointing year for multilateralists, the challenges that lie ahead in 2022 and beyond will be even greater. Despite the odds, UN humanitarians and their NGO partners have already saved many lives in 2021. But years of experience show that a revamped United Nations System is critical if we are to deal effectively with the challenges of the 21st century.

Trevor Page, resident in Lethbridge, Canada, is a former Director of the World Food Programme. He also served with the UN refugee agency, UNHCR and what is now the UN Department of Political and Peace Building Affairs.

 

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Credit: UNICEF

By Guillaume Baggio, Manzoor Qadir and Vladimir Smakhtin
HAMILTON, Ontario, Canada, Jul 29 2021 (IPS)

In 1995, a highly-respected water expert in South Africa, Bill Pitman, in very concise terms illustrated that the country, already battling a growing lack of water then, would likely run out in 25 years if it did not increase its supply.

Twenty-five years have now passed and the country is thirstier than ever. The recent water crisis in Cape Town is just one manifestation of the nation’s chronic water scarcity. And there is likely more water trouble ahead.

Water scarcity issues have been vexing experts for decades. Scientists developed and debated various water scarcity concepts, indicators, and projections, essentially saying that it is a global issue with strong local specifics. Worldwide estimates of people affected by water scarcity vary accordingly and get gloomier with time.

A most recent assessment of water availability suggests that population growth alone (i.e. not factoring in climate change or water quality considerations) will lead to an unprecedented and widespread drop in water availability per capita.

By 2050, 87 countries will be water scarce (per capita water availability below 1,700 cubic meters per year), and the number of countries with absolute water scarcity (per capita water availability under 500 cubic meters per year) will almost double, from 25 today to 45.

As population growth is highly related to socioeconomic conditions, transitions to water scarcity may be particularly painful in the Global South. Low-income countries are projected to have an average drop in water availability per capita of around 46%, followed by lower-middle-income countries (decreasing by around 30%), upper-middle-income countries (12%), and high-income countries (close to 5%).

Credit: UNICEF

In a matter of 20–30 years — within a single generation — Sub-Saharan Africa is expected to become the next hotspot of water scarcity, where availability per capita will be halved by 2050. In the already bone-dry Middle East and North Africa region, water availability per capita might drop by 33%, followed by Asia (24%) and Latin America and the Caribbean (18%).

Ironically, and sadly, many countries in the Global South are water scarce already, although in a different way: they have no or little infrastructure to support people and their economy, even though some may be well endowed with freshwater resources.

They may therefore transition silently to physical scarcity — when there will simply not be enough water for all users and purposes. Hence, South Africa’s experience will likely be repeated in many countries, in unforeseen ways, within the lifetime of many of us. And economically-advanced countries will taste water scarcity too.

There are, of course, ways to mitigate the impacts of growing water shortages. All of them are context- specific.

One widely-advocated option is water demand management — particularly through improving water use efficiency in agriculture, responsible for most global water withdrawals. Efficiency cannot increase indefinitely, though.

Some countries may consider slowing population growth. Water is, after all, a limited resource. More people living in low-income and lower-middle-income countries means that water scarcity will become progressively more difficult to deal with — perhaps even impossible in our lifetime — despite aggressive water demand management.

Reducing population growth in developing countries can be achieved by meeting certain sustainable development goals (SDGs) — like SDG 4 (education) or SDG 8 (decent work).

As countries implement the options most suitable for them, one stands out as universally applicable: increasing water supply. Whether it is developing more water storage infrastructure (where feasible), or municipal water recycling and reuse, or improved agricultural water management practices — all options should be on the table. And many have already been proven effective all over the world.

In addition to the above, countries can benefit from and should consider a variety of “unconventional” — and hence yet mostly untapped resources — from the Earth’s seas to its upper atmosphere. Options and sources like harvesting water from the air, capturing flood rainwater in aquifers at large basin scales where the geology permits, massive implementation of climate-independent sea water desalination (a virtually unlimited resource) in coastal areas, where the majority of the world population lives — all have already demonstrated potential to address increasing local water shortages.

The perceived high cost of some such technologies is gradually going down; hence they are becoming more affordable with time. And the cost of inaction will certainly be higher.

In any case, water scarcity should not be seen as a myth or some science construct. It is a global challenge that manifests itself locally in a variety of ways. The water scarcity experiences in many countries clearly suggests a paradigm shift is needed. If we fail to act now, let’s not be surprised when taps stop running one day sooner than we might expect.

Guillaume Baggio is Research Associate, Manzoor Qadir is Assistant Director, and Vladimir Smakhtin is the Director at the UN University’s Canadian-based Institute for Water, Environment and Health, which is supported by the Government of Canada and hosted at McMaster University, Hamilton, Ontario. The Institute marks its 25th anniversary in 2021.

 

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By External Source
Burkina Faso, Jul 28 2021 (IPS-Partners)

In Burkina Faso, Honorine Meda has been trained by the German Development Agency (GIZ) to raise awareness among teenage girls about pregnancy. While the Universal Declaration of Human Rights says all children have a right to education, adolescent girls who fall pregnant in Sub Saharan Africa tend to drop out of school. Meda and a group of model parents, also trained by GIZ, play an essential role in preventing teenage pregnancies and supporting learners, who fall pregnant, to get back to school.

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Honorine Meda became pregnant herself at the age of nineteen. Now she helps raise awareness of teenage pregnancy among girls in Dissin.

By Guy Dinmore
DISSIN, Burkina Faso, Jul 28 2021 (IPS)

Honorine Meda is 23. Cycling through her hometown of Dissin, in Burkina Faso’s verdant southwest, she smiles, waves and stops to chat with one of the girls she counsels.

Thanks to a program by the German development agency (GIZ) and their Pro Enfant initiative, Honorine trained to counsel teenage girls in Dissin on how to avoid pregnancies.

She became pregnant herself, with her now three-year-old son, when she was 19. It was tough, she told IPS.

“I can say it was the hardest at the beginning, that’s when I had the most difficulties. I was ashamed and I spent one year without going to school after I gave birth,” she explains.

After the first year of her son’s life, she was able to return to her studies and now wants to become a midwife. Some 19.3% of pregnancies in Sub Saharan Africa are among adolescents. In Burkina Faso, it is 11%. Many teenagers who fall pregnant in the region, some as young as 13, are less fortunate than Honorine.

Teenage pregnancy often puts an end to the mother’s education, as young mothers switch their focus from school to taking care of the child. This reduces the mother’s earning potential and feeds into a cycle of poverty which means the child is also less likely to attend school and achieve financial stability years later.

Abortion is illegal in normal circumstances in Burkina Faso. It is permissible when rape or incest have occured, or if there is a danger to the health of the mother or severe fetal malformation. This is not well known among women, however, and the legal process for an abortion being approved is long and complicated. If a mother decides to terminate the pregnancy through an illegal abortion, their options for doing so are inherently unsafe.

Girls at a school on the outskirts of Dissin often learn in outdoor classrooms, Dissin.

A teenage girl sits in classroom at a school on the outskirts of Dissin.

“The lack of awareness [on how to prevent it] is the basis of pregnancy in school,” Honorine explains, sitting on a wooden bench beneath a mango tree. “Each year there are many cases.” That’s why she is proud to be doing work that means others might not suffer the same difficulties as she did.

While advocates like Honorine can play a big role in preventing teenage pregnancies it really involves the whole community, according to Abdoulaye Seogo, a social worker in Dissin who coordinates the GIZ program.

The child protection network in Dissin was trained by GIZ on how to coordinate around teenage motherhood, Dissin.

“With GIZ we organize awareness sessions, primarily for women. It must be said that in Africa, education begins with the mother at home. We also try to reach young boys.” He says he has noticed a fall in the number of teenage pregnancies since the program’s work to increase awareness.

A cluster of specially trained parents also play a part by acting as role models to other parents.

Yeledo Meda is one such model parent. “First there is moral support, we give advice and carry out activities to raise awareness,” he told IPS.

Yeledo Meda is one of the model parents who helps raise awareness of how to prevent teenage pregnancy. He also supports parents whose daughters are pregnant, Dissin.

But no matter how high the level of awareness in a community, it will never eliminate teenage pregnancies entirely.

“Often the parents are discouraged when they first find out their daughter is pregnant… When that happens, you have to moralize so that they understand. We also encourage the mother to return to school,” says Yeledo.

Mariam Nappon, whose name has been changed to protect her identity, is 16. She is seven months pregnant and makes use of many of the elements of the program put in place by GIZ to support pregnant mothers like her.

Sixteen-year-old Mariam Nappon, whose name has been changed, is seven months pregnant. She feels supported by the program GIZ have set up, Dissin.

Nappon says, “[The father] told me to keep the pregnancy, regardless of the problem… If I need anything and he can help me, he does. He also pays for my schooling.”

She says she has never felt any pressure to leave school, either from her family or from teachers. Teachers take special measures to make sure she has the provisions she needs thanks to sensitisation efforts by GIZ. In the past, expectant mothers like Nappon were regularly kicked out of school for becoming pregnant.

A teacher holds class at a coed school on the outskirts of Dissin.

“When I leave school, I want to become a tailor,” she says, “I often go to the child protection network to get advice.”

The child protection network is enlisted by Seogo, the social worker, when girls do become pregnant. The members of the network were also trained by GIZ and bring together community members from the police, education, the health sector, the local orphanage and even the agricultural sector.

Where agriculture is by far the largest sector of the economy, roles expectant mothers are no longer able to play in farming have to be accounted for. They also need to be kept away from certain pesticides that can be harmful to the unborn child.

“If the various parts of the community are isolated from each other, that’s not good for anyone. Take the police, for example… with the network, they know exactly what is happening and can ensure they fulfill their duties,” explains Honzié Meda who runs the network. He says coordination means all elements of the community involved are able to react more quickly and efficiently.

A boy looks at a mural to raise awareness of teenage pregnancy at a school on the outskirts of Dissin.

Joseph Tioye, the police officer for the network, agrees.

“We are there whenever we are called upon. Sometimes the boy doesn’t want to recognize the pregnancy and we have to speak to them about the legal implications of that.”

If the father, or his family, do not agree to help support the child, the case can end up in court. Also, when the pregnancy involves a father over 18 and a younger mother, this can cause the police to become involved.

But the emphasis is always on trying to make sure the mother stays in school, says Honzié Meda.

A girl prepares to play football at a school on the outskirts of Dissin.

“We can make sure her case is passed on to social workers, or health care, or for psycho-social care. If it’s needed, the support is there… There are even scholarships provided by GIZ which can be passed onto the mother if needed.”

Seogo explains: “Just this week, a fourteen-year-old girl who is pregnant couldn’t bring herself to tell her family. So, we accompanied her and advised.” The family will be supported by the child protection network throughout the pregnancy and beyond.

In southwest Burkina Faso, even before the GIZ program, the culture within the community was relatively sympathetic and supportive towards girls who become pregnant young, compared to other places in Burkina Faso.

Stigma can still be an issue however, and the mother regularly feels embarrassed. But, unlike in many other parts of the world, the culture in Dissin does not force teenagers to leave their family home if they become pregnant.

Although the GIZ program is making a big impact in Dissin, there is still much work to be done elsewhere. But if the program has proven anything, it’s that it takes a whole village to raise a child – whether a teenager or a newborn.

Another teenage girl who is pregnant walks through fields on the edge of her village, Dissin.

This feature was produced on behalf of the German Federal Ministry for Economic Cooperation and Development.

 

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By Paul Teng
SINGAPORE, Jul 28 2021 (IPS)

After almost two decades, Golden Rice was approved last week by the Philippines authorities for use as food. This together with the approval of the bioengineered Bt eggplant represents a landmark victory of science over misinformation; it will provide consumers with improved nutrition (Golden Rice) and safer food (Bt eggplant).

Paul Teng

BIOTECHNOLOGY CROPS have been controversial in spite of overwhelming support for their safety by the scientific community. This is specially so for the class of biotechnology crops commonly called ‘GMO’ or genetically modified organism. The controversy has led to public concerns about their food safety, in spite of the fact that GMOs are only approved after years of intensive testing by independent government agencies, evaluation and approval upon satisfying stringent criteria for safety.

This approval of Golden Rice and the lesser-known Bt eggplant are therefore milestones in the use of biotechnology to meet food security needs through more (nutritious) food with less pesticides. In the 29 countries which currently grow GMO-biotechnology crops in 2019, over 17 million farmers growing about 91 million hectares have been shown to benefit financially and health-wise. So has the environment from the reduced insecticide use. At the same time, worldwide, beyond the 29 growing countries, another 43 countries import GMO-biotechnology crops for food, feed and processing; this includes Singapore.

Golden Rice: Addressing Vitamin A Deficiency

The Philippines has a high incidence of Vitamin A Deficiency (VAD) which can lead to blindness and death, particularly among children. Rice is the staple in the Philippines, with many households consuming it two to three times a day.

Almost 20 years ago, an international group tested the development of a rice variety which could provide enhanced levels of Vitamin A and therefore relief for the many malnourished children in developing countries.

This enhanced Beta-carotene rice subsequently came to be called “Golden Rice” because of the yellow hue in the grains. The development and testing of this rice has gone through intensive scrutiny by scientific and regulatory bodies in several countries. Indeed this rice has been tested for safety and environmental concerns more than any other modern rice variety.

The World Health Organisation (WHO) estimates that over half a million children worldwide are affected by VAD, with disastrous impact. The International Rice Institute (IRRI) estimated that 17% of children under five in the Philippines suffer from VAD, so the Golden Rice has the potential to change the fight against this disease.

Bt Eggplant: Engineered To Reduce Insecticide Use

Eggplant (a.k.a. Aubergine) is one of the most widely consumed fruit vegetables in South and Southeast Asia. However, eggplant is highly susceptible to the fruit borer which severely damages the fruit that is sold through its feeding on the fleshy part of the fruit that is used by humans.

To produce a crop that is cosmetically acceptable to consumers and profitable for farmers, almost all eggplant farmers have resorted to using insecticides. In Bangladesh, eggplant farmers have been known to spray as many as 70 times in a single season to ensure that their crop is saleable! Oftentimes the pest has also become immune to the cocktail of insecticides used.

The alternative technology that was proposed in the early 2000’s was to use biotechnology to give resistance to the fruit borer so that insecticide use could be reduced, farmers could produce a crop and consumers could buy a safer vegetable. Scientists engineered eggplant with a gene from a common soil bacterium called Bacillus thuringiensis (Bt) and were able to show greatly increased resistance to the pest. This same bacterium in its raw form is used by organic farmers for pest control.

The same Bt technology has also been successfully used in crops like maize, soybean and cotton. Indeed Bangladesh became the first country to grow this Bt eggplant in 2014 and since then some 34,000 small farmers have grown over 2,000 hectares in 2019; farmers have been less exposed to dangerous insecticides, and consumers have accepted this safer product.

Other countries have been slow to adopt this technology because of the fear of controversy surrounding GMO-biotechnology crops and opposition by “green groups”. And it is to the credit of Filipino scientists and regulators that they have finally accepted the scientific evidence and shown courage to approve this new eggplant variety, and give consumers a safer vegetable.

Future Biotechnologies

The importance of the approval by the Philippines of Golden Rice and Bt Eggplant cannot be understated. The Philippines was the first Asian country in 2000 to approve a biotech crop, the Bt maize for planting by farmers. And since then the economic benefits to farmers, especially smallholder farmers have exceeded expectations, as studied by credible economists. It has drastically reduced the foreign exchange bill of importing maize to fuel the growing demand for animal feed. The Philippines was even able to export maize in one year.

The doomsayers who predicted environmental disaster from introducing a biotech crop like Bt maize into the environment have been proven wrong as the fears of upsetting biodiversity have not been evidenced.

Neither has any of the concerns about animal and human safety been seen. Indeed the 20 years of biotech maize use around the world has only seen a yearly increase in the uptake by farmers, to the benefit of consumers through a reliable supply of an important animal feed (and human food in some countries).

Moving Forward

The latest report on food insecurity by the Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO) in 2021 (http://www.fao.org/3/cb4474en/online/cb4474en.html) shows that the Asian continent is still rife with hunger and malnutrition. Many tools are needed to address the food needs in Asia, and the approvals by the Philippines last week augur well for the application of various biotechnologies to meet the challenges of producing more of both traditional food as well as novel food.

Moving forward, the new generation of biotechnology applications to meet the demands of humanity for food, feed and fibre are exemplified by Plant Breeding Innovations such as gene editing. Their impact is just being felt in terms of crops with improved yield, tolerance to pests, diseases and climate change, and improved nutrition and extended shelf life.

Likewise, biotechnology processes have been used in the fast-growing alternative protein industry to produce food like plant-based protein and cellular meat. However, whether these benefits will be realised will depend much on consumer acceptance and government approvals.

At a time when food security worldwide is being threatened by disruptive forces like climate change and pandemics, technology has an important role to play in innovating solutions. Countries like Singapore are capitalising on some of these new technologies, not just to produce more food but also to address the environmental impact of food production. But ultimately, much will depend on a science-literate populace accepting food produced with new technologies.

Paul Teng is Adjunct Senior Fellow at the Centre for Non-Traditional Security Studies (NTS Centre), S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS), Nanyang Technological University (NTU) Singapore. He is also Honorary Chair of the International Service for the Acquisition of Agribiotechnology applications (ISAAA), a non-profit hosted by Cornell University.

 

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