I recorded this short video with Saeeda Mousa, Executive Director of Dalia Association. In it, she talks about the amazing potential return on investment in the Palestinian community, but it’s not the type of investment that you might be thinking of!
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4Kx8yUhQ7c?rel=0&w=420&h=315]
This article appeared in This Week in Palestine’s January 2013 issue on the theme of investment.
Investors want their assets to multiply. They buy shares in companies or funds and expect financial returns in the form of periodic dividends or growth in the value of their shares. Our economy revolves around investment – investors accept stakes in other people’s ventures; entrepreneurs grow their initiatives with others’ resources and support.
“Community investment” is a little different. It also involves inputs, but the inputs are not limited to money. They include expertise, material goods, moral support, and more. Community investment is profitable, but it brings a social return on investment (SROI) instead of simply financial gain.
The social return on community investment in Palestine can be measured in stronger community institutions, lower poverty, better education, improved livelihoods, personal security, hope for the future, and other collective benefits. Moreover, making a profitable community investment in Palestine is less risky than almost any other kind of investment if you keep these five guidelines in mind:
1. Focus on the potential return. If you invest in a community group that becomes empowered and effective, how will it impact children’s life chances, equality for women, sustainable farming, cultural expression? Isn’t it an honour to play a small role in the development of Palestine?
2. Show faith in the management. If managers are credible and if they are learners, support their leadership, even when they take risks. Community leaders are not contractors to be hired to implement activities. They are the dedicated front line of social change. Believe in them, even when they doubt themselves.
3. Consider your capacity. Are the resources you have to invest the ones that are needed? Do you have contacts you can use to mobilise other resources? Never think that what you have to offer isn’t enough. If you listen to local priorities, you will find a valuable way to contribute.
4. Make a long-term commitment. One-time transactions may feel good to the giver, but profits from community investment don’t accrue short term, and they rarely lead to sustainability. Are you ready to participate in Palestinian community development for the long haul?
5. Work collectively. No one investor can solve community problems alone. Are you willing to combine your investment with others’ investments in order to capitalise the Palestinian community? One way to do this is through a philanthropic organisation such as Dalia Association, Palestine’s only community foundation.
Saeeda Mousa, director of Dalia Association, took me to Zawiya, a village of about 5,500 residents on 23,000 dunams in Salfit Governorate to see one of Dalia’s community investments. As the road from Ramallah twisted and turned for nearly an hour, I left pieces of my stomach in each Israeli settlement and in each Palestinian village we passed. But it was worth it when I sat with community members and we started talking.
Dalia had already worked intimately with the village, implementing a small-grants programme that empowers community members to decide which of their own community groups to fund and to hold those community groups accountable. It made sense, then, for Zawiya to be a pilot site for Dalia’s “village funds” concept – a kind of resource bank into which local residents, the private sector, and the diaspora could invest in community-led development.
The first contribution of $2,500 came from The Abraaj Group, headquartered in Dubai, which maintains a “company fund” with Dalia Association. That first contribution was a vote of confidence, but it still took more than a year to inspire enough trust to raise more. The next $400 came from Adam, a local Zawiya resident who wanted to be part of launching the new idea. Then Ismail, a Zawiya native living in Brazil, added $1,000 to leverage more funds, and that was followed by a $1,000 contribution from Abdul Qader Mustafa Abu Naba’a, a philanthropist originally from Zawiya who now lives in Jordan. When Adam submitted the idea to Dalia’s philanthropy contest and was one of three winners, it brought another $1,000 to the Zawiya Village Fund. This example demonstrates that “community investment” means both investment in the community and investment by the community. It’s a model that values the financial contribution of investors and the sweat equity of local community workers. They become true partners in the success of their joint venture.
Zawiya residents considered several ideas before deciding to use the $5,900 in the Zawiya Village Fund to provide revolving loans. Seven men and five women took small loans of NIS 1,300 (less than $450) interest free. The municipality contributes by providing the repayment system: they take NIS 100 every month when loan-takers pay their electricity bills. Those payments are set aside for another round of loans. Dalia Association has already committed to adding another $2,500, also from The Abraaj Group company fund at Dalia Association, for the next round of revolving loans.
Abu Majdi was among those very satisfied with his loan. “I had a small store that brought in about NIS 400/month. I expanded it and now it brings in NIS 1,000/month. Now that there’s more work, my mother runs the store. She benefits personally and socially by having something important to do.” Abdel Mi’em used NIS 400 of his loan to buy seeds and dirt, and he planted them in plastic bags that he cut from sheets. “Come back in May and you’ll find 400 small trees; each one selling for NIS 10,” he said proudly.
Zawiya was a philanthropic community before Dalia’s involvement. Abu Naba’a invested $135,000 in a cultural centre that was the first in Salfit. It works closely with the municipality offering sports and cultural activities, Islamic education, and other training courses. Many community members are also involved in the village’s nine active groups. Hiyam, who has served on the city council for seven years, says, “When I give, I feel happy. I sacrifice, but I feel I have made a difference.” They stay in contact with villagers who have moved away through an active Facebook page.
“All villages have resources of some kind. Many local residents are ready to give, but they can’t give a lot and they think that their small contribution won’t matter. Business folk like to give to their villages, but only if they have confidence that their contributions will be used well. And there are Palestinians in the diaspora who love to give to their villages, but they want a safe, easy, transparent way to give,” Saeeda says. Village funds housed at Dalia Association provide these benefits. She adds, “Companies can also open corporate social responsibility funds in the name of the company. Groups or individuals can establish funds in the name of a family or on behalf of a specific issue.”
“But community investment is not only about money,” Saeeda says. “Sometimes you just need to believe in people and help them to believe in themselves. Don’t push them onto your timeline or in the direction you think is best for them. Follow their lead and they will find solutions to their own problems.”
We drove back to Ramallah from Zawiya on a different road. We passed Qarawa Beni Zaid, Nabi Saleh, and so many other Palestinian villages ripe for the idea of a village fund. We passed stunning valleys and terrace after terrace of tenderly pruned olive trees. The clouds, puffy against the baby blue sky, were so low you could scoop them up in your hands. Palestine is truly abundant. There are many resources to be mobilised through investment; there is much potential for high social return.
In these days after Christmas, there is a sharp difference between life in Palestine and life in the U.S. Unlike most of the world, Christians in the U.S. often return to work, to life as usual, the very day after Christmas. I myself had to do this, and it just feels strange. In Palestine and elsewhere, Christmas is not just a day but a season. It is celebrated with joy, visiting, and general cheerfulness through Epiphany on January 6 and, for some, even beyond.
While our churches here are beautifully candlelit and meaningful, meditative services are held, there is nothing quite like the churches of Palestine where candles have burned brightly not for years but for centuries; where prayers have ascended in every language through war, peace, cold war, and some very cold peace. Today, it is so easy to look at Palestine at Christmas and slip into hopelessness. The hunger strikers are perilously close to collapse. The Apartheid Wall has sliced up the tiny enclaves of Palestinian life that had managed to survive under occupation. Gaza is, again, decimated by a military machine rivaled by only one larger nation on the planet.
It’s hard not to be afraid, isn’t it?
The news of the horrific shooting at the school in Connecticut reached Palestine quickly. On the day after the shooting, pictures circulated the internet showing Palestinian children standing in vigil for the child victims in Newtown, Connecticut. I had to blink and look again: did I just see kids who live under occupation, all of whom are well familiar with the sound of gunfire on their own streets standing in solidarity with kids in an American suburb? I’ve come to the conclusion that the world is not a safe place for children.
Very hard not to be afraid.
Yet the shepherds—the ones for whom Shepherds’ Field in Bethlehem is named—heard the angel whisper, “Do not be afraid…” I can only imagine how frightened these lowly, uneducated men would feel at the sudden appearance of an angel. Of course they’d be afraid!
I don’t know how Palestinian mothers do it. It’s easy to rock your kids to sleep with just a few words of a lullaby if the world around you is calm and serene. How do you coax your child to sleep when she has been roused in the middle of the night by soldiers bursting through the door? How do you remember the words to a lullaby when your husband has been missing for six days after walking in a funeral procession?
Maybe it’s faith that enables these mothers to function. Or maybe they’re numb. Maybe years and years and years of occupation have turned their faith from a dynamic, organic expression of the soul into a concrete cocoon inside which they can feel nothing, not even fear.
While Epiphany is still a few days away, the Feast of the Holy Innocents is almost upon us (December 28). All over the world, Christians will solemnly remember the children who were slain by order of King Herod in an attempt to avert the loss of his reign to “the newborn king”—the Christ child—about whom the Magi had told him. Our world is still a fearful place for children from Connecticut to Bethlehem, now more than ever.
Vicki Tamoush is a second-generation Arab American who lives in Tustin, California. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in English from the University of California, Irvine and is founder of Interfaith Witnesses. Vicki writes regularly for The View from My Window in Palestine.
Sharaka—a volunteer effort focused on ensuring a food sovereign Palestine and preserving traditional Palestinian agriculture–was invited to participate in the Slow Food Exhibition which takes place every two years in the Italian city of Turin. I was honored to represent Sharaka along with my colleague, Aisha Mansour, in this great event.
The Exhibition took place from October 24 through October 30, 2012 in the Olympic headquarters building, where we participated along with 6,000 farmers and food producers from around the world.
Throughout the exhibition, Aisha and I exhibited a range of Palestinian “baladi” products like freekey (wheat) from Deir Istya (Salfit), molasses from Halhoul (Hebron), oil and za’atar from Qira (Salfit), kishik (yogurt) from Beersaba’, and duqa’ (brown za’atar) from the Gaza Strip. We offered sample tastes of these products and traditional Palestinian foods to visitors who came in the hundreds of thousands, and we sold T-shirts bearing the Sharaka logo, which represents food sovereignty in Palestine.
A number of Palestinian institutions that work in the food industry took part in the Palestinian wing of the exhibition, including Karama, the Palestinian Agricultural Relief Committee (PARC), the Ministry of Agriculture of the Palestinian Authority, and the Fair Trade Association. The Palestinian wing received Italian and foreign visitors, especially from the US, Canada and Europe who came specifically to taste and buy products from different places around the world and to learn about the economy of food in Palestine (and here), and encourage the production of high quality, healthy food products.
Slow Food is a movement calling for the transformation of food culture away from fast food, and a return to natural modes of food production and meals with local character. The Italian sociologist, Carlo Betrini became an advocate of the Slow Food movement by publishing a simple statement of support in 1986 in Turin, and it grew into an international movement in 1989 with the snail as a logo symbolizing Slow Food. It was intended to counter junk food, which is prepared quickly and without attention to the details of the food. Twenty-three years since its launch, this movement espouses a nutritional philosophy that brings together tens of thousands of supporters around a hospitable kitchen table that offers delicious food that is well prepared from natural sources (Wikipedia). Sharaka is Ramallah chapter if the Slow Food movement.
The exhibition is a momentous event that demanded a great logistical effort. It contributed to raising awareness of the importance of the foods produced around the world, and it helps producers to market their products at reasonable prices. Moreover, the importance of the exhibition is not only to present the products, but also to make it possible for farmers and producers to exchange experience and to discuss their mutual interests and how to overcome their common challenges. Also, many other related conferences and side-events are organized around Slow Food to discuss food producers’ concerns.
The exhibition space is big enough to display all the products, and includes all the facilities to process and conserve local foods, and kitchens to prepare local dishes. The event attracted several dignitaries in the opening event such as the head of the UN Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO), representatives of ministries of agriculture and municipal representatives from the host city of Turin. It was well covered by local and international media. There were a striking number of volunteers who helped, including elders and youth, students and others, who provided logistical and administrative support and smiles for the delegates.
On a personal level, I was impressed roaming the aisles, hearing traditional music from all over the world, and eating traditional foods from all over the world. I felt the world was, in fact, a small village: Ukraine on one side and India on the other, South Korea next to Brazil, South Africa and Honduras. I felt truly grateful to the organizers of this impressive event for the honor of attending. As a farmer, I felt that I am not alone, and my counterparts from all over the world share the same troubles and dreams as we do in Palestine.
As Palestinians, we felt the sympathy, love and appreciation of our Italian friends and the whole world. They packed the Palestinian wing asking questions about Palestine and the Palestinian people, and they admired the products of the land of Palestine. This gave us determination and will to complete our journey to protect our mother land, not through empty slogans, but through farming and production, and to hold dear the land that provides us life and food and dignity.
* Fareed Tammallah is a journalist and farmer from the village of Qira (Salfit) and a founding member of Sharaka.