On Corruption

Case Study #1

I was recently informed that the Uganda Little League Baseball team won a big championship and did well enough to earn a trip to the United States for a couple of weeks to compete. Upon hearing this news, like most other American volunteers, I was happy. Then I learned that the United States had denied their visas because the players parent's had lied about their ages. See link below.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/31/sports/for-uganda-little-leaguers-exhilaration-and-then-heartbreak.html?emc=eta1

As I write this, I have not been able to read the article due to no internet connection. But my immediate response to the headline, which was all I could see, was pride. I was proud. Proud of the fact that I am from a country that catches this sort of thing. That says no to corruption. That says no to deceit. That tolerates nothing but what is fair and honest, or at least tries its hardest to.

Having lived in a country for the past 18 months where corruption and dishonesty are pervasive and devastating, I felt no remorse. I have seen firsthand the effects of bad government and dishonest people. How they impact ordinary people. How it damages the chances of honest citizens trying to progress through life's stages the "right way". How it hinders development. How it destroys lives and ends them. How it destroys hope and breeds complacency.

Allowing the Ugandan Little Leaguers to field a team that knowingly lied would set an awful precedent and only fuel the fire of destruction and disrespect for rule of law. If I feel sorry for anyone, it's for the kids. I despise the adults surrounding the team. I despise their decisions and the way they made the kids believe it was ok to lie. It was ok to do the wrong thing. And my faith in our system of justice and accountability was refreshed and reinforced.

Case Study #2

A few weeks ago, I wrote a requisition for some electronic equipment for my school. I wanted to buy some new equipment for our labs in the school. I wrote the requisition out for 500,000 Ugandan shillings. At a current exchange rate of 2,600 shillings per dollar, that is approximately $192.31. A few days after I wrote the requisition, the school bursar called me into his office and handed me 500,000 shillings in cold hard cash. "Ok, you can now buy what you want." He said.

I've been living in Uganda now for nearly 18 months. The United States Peace Corps pays me a living stipend of just over 600,000 shillings a month to pay for my basic needs while serving. Not that my standard of living comes anywhere close to the common man out in the village (they are much poorer), but I think it is fair to say I have been living poor.

I looked down at the 500,000 shillings the bursar placed in my hand. I put it in my backpack and walked back to my private office at the school. I took it out and looked at it again. But what you want he said. I thought to myself, this is nearly one month's salary for me. A lot of money, to me. I could probably take this money and keep it, and nothing would happen. The school would probably not say much of anything to me. I mean, the bursar is the only one who really knows I have it, and he is here maybe two days a week and cares very little, it at all, about what goes on outside his office.

For a few minutes, I experienced the dangerous and slippery feeling of temptation that comes from working in a system with no accountability. No system of checks to ensure transparency and deter bad behavior. Now I begin to imagine that I made about 50,000 shillings a month, instead of 600,000, which is more close to the common man's salary. How desperate would I be for this money? How much effort would it take for me to not eat it? What if I had no hope of ever making any more money than my 50,000 a month? No hope for a better job. What would I do? I'm pretty sure I would eat it.

The sad thing is. I honestly believe every single one of my colleagues at my school would eat it too, if given the opportunity. Sure, they sit around a table and complain about it all day in our staff room. But if given the chance to make a ton of money so easily, living in the poverty that they do, I think the would. And can you really blame them? Yes! You absolutely can. It's wrong. It's terrible. I hate it. But it's a product of poverty. Take away the need for more money is half the battle. But that only comes from a government without corruption, one willing to give good people what they really want. It's a vicious and depressing cycle.

Of course, I didn't eat the money. But I got a sense of what it felt like to be in that situation. To be able. Able to deceive. Able to steal. With no repercussions. Now multiply the money by millions and the people by thousands. Money from donor nations and global support organizations. People from some of the poorest villages in the world, elected and trusted overnight at the flick of a voter's pen. Spread it out across an entire nation. Do you get a sense of how it could hinder? I did. And I hated it. This is why development is still just development.