Read about this: http://www.wsup.com/sharing/documents/DP004SanitationSurcharges.pdf
PUBLICATION: Raising finance for pro-poor sanitation - Sanitation Surcharges as a possible option.30/10/2012 This Discussion Paper is a situation review of sanitation surcharge systems in African cities, focusing on systems designed to raise revenues for improving sanitation in low-income districts. The review considers existing pro-poor surcharge systems in Lusaka and Ouagadougou; systems that cannot currently be considered pro-poor, in Dakar, Beira and Antananarivo; and the special case of Maputo, where there is ongoing debate about how a surcharge might be introduced. Lusaka’s model is of particular interest: could it be applied more widely to raise finance for pro-poor sanitation?
Read about this: http://www.wsup.com/sharing/documents/DP004SanitationSurcharges.pdf
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The fact that South Asia is lagging behind with regards to access to sanitation is a given. Lack of coverage, inappropriate use, unhygienic facilities, inequitable access, open defecation, waterborne/washed diseases.. and the list goes on. These somewhat negative facts and figures paint a rather grim scenario of the sanitation sector in this side of the world. A fact which is more often than not, thought to be THE trigger for bringing about a change in the way the sector functions. I happened to question this very idea a few years back whilst completing my Masters. Is the flagging of these type of issues the best way forward? Is this encouraging the necessary change? Or would the sector benefit from a slightly more positive approach? One which highlights.. Success stories rather than examples of failure Positive reinforcement instead of criticism Encouragement rather than blame These are only only some of the thoughts that went through my head whilst my research was ongoing. The result? An article, which although I have already uploaded in my blog earlier, has actually been re-published this month in two portals - The India Water Portal & the IWA's WaterWiki (links below). Why do I talk about this again then, one may ask? The fact that my work is being re-flagged 6 months later, simply makes me believe that the idea of acknowledging positive steps and focusing on these as a means of achieving progress, is one shared by a larger group of people. Or else this really wouldn't have made it up to the web once again. After reading reports which constantly reiterate poor wastewater management practices at work today, this thought generally gives me a good feeling inside and thus is a good enough reason to write about it and share the happiness in me. India Water Portal http://www.indiawaterportal.org/node/31121 Waterwiki http://www.iwawaterwiki.org/xwiki/bin/view/Articles/BridgingtheSanitationGap The Himalayas as seen from our flight Not too long ago I was asked to give a brief overview of my sentiments regarding Ladakh. All I could say was that the city felt too big for me to digest. Everything was in excess, the beauty of the landscapes, the altitude, the generosity of people, the rugedness, the veneration to buddhism, the colours of the sky during dawn and dusk, the delicacies.. Our journey began from Delhi. On board a flight, we were headed towards Leh, Ladakh's capital city. Now that I think about it though, I should really correct the above paragraph. The magnitude I mention with regards to Ladakh was made apparent not after we landed but instead, the very moment my head turned towards the airplane window and I saw myself flying over parts of the Himalayan mountain range. Having spent the last four years planning a trip to Nepal with a longing to experience and climb a part of these hills, I had a vague idea of what I could expect, or so I thought I did. Turns out that what I thought was completely wrong. The images I had in my mind did absolutely no justice to what I witnessed through the airplane window that morning. Leh itself is quite a compact little city. Lots of alleys each with their stalls selling everything from food, shoes, souvenirs, to clothes and homeware. Walking the streets and mingling with the people whenever there was a opportunity to do so, made me feel like I was very much a part of the traditional way of life of Ladakhis. They welcomed our presence and I felt increasingly happy doing the most ordinary of things. The view from the Leh Palace balconies If I attempt to describe Ladakh in one word, that would be SIMPLICITY, and the best example of this was Leh Palace. Sounds quite contradictory at first glance I guess. When one thinks of palaces, words such as grandeur, richness, flamboyance, money comes to mind. Leh Palace however proved to break this schema For a first, the climb to the palace grounds was quite rough and thus not at all royal. Stones, open drains, narrow edges which at times didn’t even allow ones foot to rest steadily. All this was part of the trek up to the palace. Once I got there, I realised the inside of the palace was mostly empty. There were no paintings, no ornaments, no wall hangings, nothing but stone pillars holding up the structure and a few dark rooms with simple outlet sfor air. The only real light that came in was through the balconies, from which one can witness the entireness of Leh city. This was about the only "royal" part of the palace, the feeling of being able to view most part of the city at a glance. Simplicity was also reflected in the way of life of the localites. Their clothes, their pace, their daily schedules, their tone and considering the disconnectedness of Ladakh, their self sufficiency. Pangong-Tso was our first move away from Leh. Fortunately for us we met a group of fellow travelers who had planned the same route. Having just missed the local bus to this area, we decided to pool in and share a car and we were off! Crossed the famous Chang-La pass and finally pulled into Pangong-Tso during late afternoon. The lake was IMMENSE. Its expanse, the different shades of blue, it’s calmness, the surroundings. I got off the car and actually couldn't believe we were finally there. Leaving our vehicle behind knowing we wouldn’t have to climb back into it till late the next day was such a great welcome that I decided to break off from the group for some time and absorb all this for myself. So I walked, sat and just gazed for the rest of the afternoon. The cold creeped in at dusk, spreading a chill which none of us really expected. Thankfully our host, a lady so pleasant and selfless whom I felt there was so much to learn from, gave us the permission to light a bonfire. Some chhang (local beer), a delicious dinner and some inner warmth later, the day came to an end as we withdrew to our tents. Pangong-Tso Early the next day I set off with one of the travellers we met on our way. Our aim was to climb at least one mountain before bidding goodbye to Pangong. Setting off before sunrise, we left our huts, crossed a long sandbank and for the first time saw the view of Pangong-Tso from the opposite side. No longer were we surrounded by the settled and civilised side of the lake. Our hike began.. across rocks, mixed terrain and small streams and as we began walking, the sun slowly awoke. Just as we climbed our first mountain, I felt like I needed no more to be satisfied so I decided to make a stop and just take in the surroundings. My fellow hiking buddy however had in mind a higher peak to conquer so we separated, deciding to meet up again at the same spot, once he felt fulfilled and ready to say goodbye. The sun travelled slowly across the sky and as the colours of the lake, mountains and sky changed with time, I suddenly began feeling restless. My companion wasn’t back yet and daylight was on full force. It felt like it had been too long already. The length of time, I must add, was more a feeling than a reality since I had no way to really tell the time. There was no watch on my wrist and no mobile phone in my pocket which would help determine this. For the first time in years, as I sat there alone with nothing but a mass of land and water around me, I felt fear. Where was he? Did something happen to him? Was it the right thing to do to split paths? Should I head back and call for help? Should I stay put where we split? I had absolutely no answers to any of these questions, so in an attempt to try and find some I walked up the hill where I sat. I then walked across it and back down again. I whistled as loud as I could, I called out, but there was no trace of anyone or any notion of a reply. I had absolutely no idea of where my buddy was. As the questions continued beating in my head, I desperately tried to slow things down in me and feel some calm. However the more I tried, the more restless I felt until at one point I just sat down and closed my eyes. I’m not sure for how long I stayed like this. All I know is that at one particular moment, whilst my eyes were closed and the wind was hitting my face, I revived a feeling. One which somehow felt familiar but at the same time very distant. A feeling which I keep being reminded about every now and again but never really felt this strong. Right then, sitting alone at a mountain across Pangong lake, I learned what it is to trust in something greater than myself. Saying that this particular feeling dispersed every question in my head would be untrue, there was still lots of doubt. But the fear, a feeling I am generally not very familiar with, vanished and somewhere inside I felt some tranquility. He was and would be okay. Needless to say my companion returned safe and sound. We were gone for long, and as beautiful as the hike was, the thoughts that crossed my mind whilst I waited and the revival of this one feeling which I happened to loose with time, is what remained in me as we drove away and back to Leh. Simplicity Nubra valley, a lot drier and parchier was a nice change. As we travelled through the Khardung-la pass from Leh, small oases dotted around the landscape provided a nucleus for hamlets and villages in the area. On the way to Diskit we were stopped by two waving hands by the side of the road. A mother and daughter got on asking us to help them across the roads to one of the nearing villages. Having them in the car with us was the closest contact I had with any localite. The honesty, eagerness and respect given reinforced my opinion of the Ladakhi people, as one of the most humble communities I’ve come across till date. We stopped at numerous monasteries on the way, all of which have been built at quite an altitude. I must admit that climbing the steep steps was a task at times, however the feeling of being up and above everything ruled out the effort. The incredible structures had almost no other visitors whilst we were there. This type of solitude, which is rather uncommon for me, felt surprisingly very good. As we sat in the prayer rooms of these monasteries, it felt as if we were separate and far away from everything, making Nubra an excellent ending to our time in Ladakh. All in all, Ladakh was majestic, however in a rather unconventional manner. I got the feeling whilst I was there that there was no real intention to be grand, there was nothing anyone had tried or was trying to flaunt or exhibit. The entire region simply was fascinating and grand, and no statement was necessary to transmit this. When explaining this to a friend I realised that "majestic" and "simple" seemed to merge in Ladakh, a duo of words which are seldom put together. Jule Ladakh.. soon again! Five days in Ladakh was enough for me to realize that I had to come back and greet this enchanting place with the simple word "Jule" (hello) once again. However, I've decided my next time shall not be by flight but instead, on the back of an Enfield. They say it’s a ride of a lifetime, to drive up all the way from Manali to Leh and after meeting a few travelers who accomplished this, and having the fortune of going for a spin on a bullet one night in Leh, the desire to return atop one of these is all the more vivid in my head. source: http://365q.ca/ Tenerife – Paris – Mumbai – Bangalore – Delhi – Leh – Pangong – Leh – Nubra – Leh – Srinagar – Jammu – Delhi – Mumbai – Bangalore. That in a nutshell was my trajectory over this last one and half months. As I hit base now and reflect back, I remember being sat at my work desk staring at the wall in front of me, just a couple of minutes after sending out a client’s report thinking: I need to do something different. In cities it’s easy to get absorbed I feel. There exists a structure to how daily life develops and everything seems to go according to what one expects. People’s actions are governed by the hands of a clock, their emotions either unexpressed or a little too expressive. Although not entirely unpleasant, I feel there comes a point when the days become routinary and somewhat foreseeable. I underwent this thought process approximately five months ago. Having just come back from a month of travels, routine hit me right on the face. I felt the monotony, and restlessness slowly began constructing a home for itself in my body. Four months later I was sat on a plane knowing where I was headed towards but with absolutely no idea about what I was getting myself into, or any notion on when I was to return. All I knew was it was time to leave. So I did. Having explained what I feel about cities, I should really talk about the other end of the scale for me: The outdoors. Being outdoors is a very different experience altogether. Things are unpredictable, limitless, uncertain and as I have recently come to realize, often unstructured to the human mind, but ironically perfectly in sync. I walk looking around me and what I see and can reach out to instills in me an immense feeling of humility. All the so called knowledge, ideas and perceptions I have about things, at once comes tumbling down. I feel insignificant standing small amidst so much greatness, none of which any human hand could ever aim to replicate. This particular thought invokes in me a feeling of complete respect and in a matter of seconds everything I associate myself with, my identity..my persona, vanishes. Such is the outdoors to me. A few minutes of contact is all I need to let go of everything I feel I am and to begin to look inward. Before long, I'm left feeling completely blank. A clean slate. A canvas upon which new landscapes, people, structures, food, colours, music, begin to get imprinted. At the end of the journey, some of these things stay, others fade away but whilst those moments last, that canvas is me. Now that I’m slightly more settled, I hope to share part of this canvas that became me during my travels, through a couple of more articles and a collection of photographs which I compiled along my way. Till then I’ll just express my gratitude to everyone who waited patiently for my return and to all those who were part of this short but intense journey. Earlier on today, and comfortably seated in the first row of a BA flight, the Olympic torch left Athens en-route to Cornwall where it will begin its 70 day tour around the UK, the Isle of Man, Jersey and Guernsey tomorrow. I’ve always looked forward to these games. The sheer caliber of sports men and women who compete is incredible. I still remember watching the ’08 summer Olympics which were held in Beijing. It was the end of my BSc I was sat in a pub completely dumb-struck after having witnessed Usain Bolt sprint his way across both the 100m and 200m races breaking both world records. The man's physique, his expression and the speed at which he shot down the race course was phenomenal. To add to my awe, I saw Phelps work his magic on the same day. Of all his races, the one that remains engraved is his 200m butterfly. This particular stroke is my own personal challenge and seeing the water literally part, making way for him, was nothing but pure class. He won the gold medal for this one, just 1 of the 7 shinys he took home that year. Some unbelievable performances, without a doubt. Speaking of performances, I saw part of the flame handover ceremony which took place in Athens last week. The ritual begins at the temple of goddess Hera in Olympia where as tradition has it, the flame is lit for the first time by capturing the sun's rays at this very place. After a quick relay around Greece, it is later handed over to the delegates of the games' host country. Once the ceremony ended, the cameras closed up on the British delegation present at the Panathinaiko stadium. The first face, was none other than David Beckham's. Never really seen this part of the Olympics before, but Beckham in Athens was a definite surprise. With him were Boris Johnson (Mayor of London), Lord Coe (Chairman of the Games), a member of the Royal family and a group of 5 school/college kids which had been selected by the British Council to be a part of the handover ceremony. From Land’s End at Cornwall tomorrow, the flame shall pass through the hands of 8000 torchbearers, each of which have made some kind of contribution to sport. I had a look at some of their profiles and was quite astonished. From a 63 year old scouts trainer to a 15 year old disabled swimmer, the torch is set to shine its light on the achievements of people of all backgrounds, abilities, experiences and ages, acknowledging their efforts along the way. After passing through more than 1000 cities, the flame shall finally reach London on the 27th of July and the games shall finally begin. It's been a long wait, one which I was hoping to put an end to by being present in London next month. Although this seems very far-fetched now, the show must go on and whether I stand near or far, tomorrow marks the beginning of some very exciting times. 10 years ago, studies carried out in the Canary Islands indicated the potential presence of an oil-bearing formation just off our islands coasts. Considering that Spain imports almost 99% of its oil and gas needs, the prospect of obtaining 10,000 barrels a day from oil and gas fields hidden under this part of the Atlantic was appealing, to say the least. Thereupon, the Spanish government authorized Repsol to explore and consequently extract oil approximately 60km off the coast of Lanzarote and Fuerteventura. And rightly so, as the central government defended, “We aim for energetic self-sufficiency and if we don’t tap this resource, someone else will”. As could be expected, people in the islands were NOT happy and although their motives of discontent, one could say are obvious and almost justifiable, my main concern regards the particular arguments used against these plans. Blasting through the megaphones at the protests, and heard on the streets as soon as the news was out, was the following. For starters..“petroleum is BAD”. Agreed. Fossil fuels is not synonymous with clean energy. Digging, drilling and further transporting to refineries could lead to spillages affecting marine species as well as natural landscapes. The processing and production of petrol and other such products further increases contamination through the release of toxic gasses and by-products. This is pretty much irrefutable. However, what one can also not argue is the fact that the islands import great quantities of oil. Its derivatives fuel ships and flights which ultimately connect us to the rest of the world and most importantly, open these lands to tourists. As one of the world's leading holiday destinations, the tourism sector contributes to 30-40% of the islands economy and thus cannot be taken for granted. Additionally, oil generates more than 90% of the islands domestic and industrial electricity requirements. Right, this tackles the first argument. Moving onto number two.. “Renewables are BETTER” Definitely. It’s a much cleaner source of energy and works towards reducing our carbon footprint. Having said this, a large part of our petrol goes into transporting people and goods. If we look towards renewables, the truth is electric vehicles are still in their early stages. The cost of producing fuel cells is significantly high and the lack of appropriate refuelling infrastructure makes this option rather unfeasible. Moreover, I personally have serious doubts on the energy used to charge these vehicle batteries. Doesn't a large part of this come from the combustion of fossil fuels anyway? If this is truly the case, it negates any kind of savings on emissions or reductions in usage of fossil fuels. As for other modes of transport, I have yet to hear about ships and airplanes fuelled by renewables. Consequently I ask, how would anyone leave or visit our islands if it wasn’t for petrol? Sensible arguments in theory, but the reality is that the Canary Islands are significantly reliant on petrol. Whether from our own coasts or from elsewhere, the fact is.. we still need it. By no means do I seek to defend or even encourage the use of fossil fuels with this reflection. Instead as a witness of the wave of public uproar regarding this, I simply wonder.. do the Canary Islands have a better alternative at the moment? Taking this one step further, even if there were alternatives, would islanders be willing to switch to these? With people turning up to “No Oil Canarias” protests each in their OWN cars, I ask myself.. doesn’t this defy the purpose they are in fact fighting for? Protesting against the provision of something we actually use? Sounds rather irrational. If we don’t want oil to be drilled, shouldn't we really stop creating a market for it and begin to use alternatives in whichever ways we can? Personally, knowing that there exists a possibility of oil spills affecting our unique marine biodiversity and wrecking our beautiful beaches, does not give me any peace. However, unreasonable demands do not make this situation any better. As citizens we have all the right to disagree with the government and protest. However in my opinion, our claims should be based on sound reasoning and rational behaviour if we ever want to achieve any kind of change. My first real experience as a runner came about last May, as a participant of the Bupa 10,000 in London. Having never run a race before, I had no personal best and thus no goal of my own which I really aimed to beat. What I did have though, is a few words my trainer left me with, who after seeing me collapse into a human bundle after a mere 2min skipping stint, made it his own personal aim to keep me on my feet. For two months, we worked together. 1 hour.. 3 times a week, with only one objective: AVOID COLLAPSE AT ANY COST. With that bit of advice, my kit and a rather unusual heartbeat rate, myself and another two runners made our way to the start. I cast my mind back to that day and I'm reminded of a few specific and rather unusual images and sentiments. The number of people who were out cheering on the streets that day was incredible. Banners, balloons, flags.. all this waved in the air. Not only did we have an audience, there was also music! I recall about 8-9 music bands playing at different spots along the route. Samba.. jazz.. and the most unexpected of all – a bhangra duo, with a drummer who seeing an Indian looking girl jog past, suddenly broke into a little jiggy and turned up his beat. In addition to this and contrary to what one would expect in a race of this scale, I felt absolutely no competitiveness, not an inch of rivalry towards all those who swiftly ran passed me along the way. Instead, everything happening around me during those one and a half hours felt extremely involving, and as I ran along I was forced to remind myself that this was actually a race and not some kind of massive street party. As I approached the 9K mark, the tiredness had properly settled in me. Knowing that there was only very little to go, I tried not to pay heed to my half-emptied lungs and rather focused all my attention on that final big push which is so often spoken about as one nears the end. About 200m to go, an elderly man caught up with me. Turns out that he was running for the Multiple Sclerosis Society too (the bright orange vests are unmistakable) and seeing me stagger along, he signalled to hold my hand and we crossed the finish line together. I guess everyone has their best race moment, this was definitely mine. Not because I finally completed the race nor because an elderly man pulling a 25 year old along set the camera flashes going, marking this moment as one which could probably be my only claim to fame. But actually because this last leg, which went from a struggle to a sudden energy boost, was in reality a reflection of my last two months. Thinking about all this now, it turns out that the Bupa 10,000 in fact was a competition, one where I competed against myself. The difficulty involved in getting started, the constant battle, keeping time and finally seeing myself make some progress. This was the same sequence that went through my head during those last 500m and could possibly sum up to one simple word: Endurance. It is often said that it isn't the destination but the journey that counts. This held true for me, the race itself was nowhere as valuable as the dedication, training and time invested in preparing for it. However, I ask myself, is this always the case? By focusing on the processes, does one run the risk of loosing sight of the end goal? Unity Cholera, the deadly diahorreal disease, knows no difference between the rich and poor, no boundaries between industrialised and not so industrialised nations. The underlying factor? Human excrement. It’s present everywhere, in some places more visible than others. When not disposed of correctly, it contaminates simply due to its pathogenic nature. and ease of transmission. When combining these two factors with the ever increasing size of vulnerable populations living in densely populated areas, the scenario does not look good at all. This brings to mind a phrase which I’ve heard numerous times now “it’s not your toilet that protects your health, but your neighbours’”. Someone else’s mismanagement ultimately puts at risk the health of entire populations. This fact is not always understood thus causing a big problem. A possible solution? “Mutual understanding” and “cooperation”, as an economist once wrote. The duty of every man to look after the needs of others. This thought raised questions within me on where there actually exist inherent bonds linking all of us, as members of a community. Do we actually act in ways which help improve the lives of others? In this particular case with cholera, it’s recent re-emergence in places like Haiti has caused the death of more than 7000 people since 2010. Would this have happened had people considered their responsibility towards one another as members of a community? This sense of commitment is many a times simply taken for granted. The implications however of this, are as severe as the loss of someone else’s life. Public World, a London-based consultancy, recently published an article I wrote for them on the state of the sanitation sector in Asia. This piece is based on research which I carried out for my MSc. Thesis in collaboration with WaterAid and Fresh Action Network (FAN) for the 5th South Asian Conference on Sanitation (SACOSAN IV) held in Sri Lanka in April 2011. These conferences aim to assess the current sanitation situation in all member countries and usually terminate with a set of commitments which countries sign in order to encourage progress.
In preparation for SACOSAN IV, I liaised with practitioners in Bangladesh, India, Nepal and Pakistan in order to understand their views on what they believe are the greatest sanitation challenges in their respective countries. My aim was to answer the following questions: - Have governments actually complied with the commitments signed at SACOSANs? - Most importantly, do these commitments come to grips with actual challenges perceived and identified by country nationals? To know more about this and have a look at my work, click on the following link and read on! http://www.publicworld.org/news/closing_the_sanitation_gap/ Deaf ears The hunt for Bin Laden came to an end earlier this year. As one of the world’s most notorious and wanted characters, this was quite some news. Interesting.. just as it was shocking. It so happened that an entire Hepatitis B vaccination campaign was strategically planned to collect DNA samples from children living in and around Abottabad in order to find any links with Osama Bin Laden and thus be able to track down his place of residence. To do this, a doctor was appointed to administer free hepatitis B vaccines in the area. Surprisingly (or not, considering the ethics of the entire operation), the Abottabad health services were completely bypassed and instead a substantial amount of cash was paid to low-rank health workers in the public health system for their support, who without knowing about the real intentions of this scam took part in the operation. Operation successful, the man was found and the hunt came to an end, but at the cost of what? Vaccines are one of the most effective health tools available to date but their effects can only really be successful if children are vaccinated. Since this is mostly a voluntary process, if people don’t confide in this type of intervention, vaccines shall not be administered. It’s quite simple really. I ask myself at this point, how many parents will outright refuse to get their children vaccinated from now on? The campaign against Polio has been prominent in Pakistan but will this breach of confidence have an impact on the health of millions of people? The answer to this tends to be affirmative. In fact evidence has demonstrated that mistrust was present previously too. Not too long ago, several thousand families in Pakistan had refused to allow their children to get polio vaccines because it was rumoured to be a western conspiracy to sterilize Muslim children. Thus will this new move, encourage further mistrust, thereby endangering further global health or humanitarian efforts? Here lies a question of trust. In the public health field, any foreign interventions such as this one, require a substantial amount of groundwork and a big part of this is establishing and maintaining a populations trust. These covert operations, ultimately play with people’s feelings making an already challenging road, a lot harder to walk across. |
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