“Our Father, who Art in the Ministry of Economic Planning and Development…”
I just got back from a fantastic meeting, which began and ended on a slightly surreal note. We have a new Principal Secretary (I’ve only just found out we actually have a PS and an Secretary to the Treasury – the roles are normally kept separate, and our outgoing acting PS was unusual in that he was also acting ST. Confused?). Another tough lady, though this time not quite so hard-as-nails as the Director of my division. Still, she’s lovely and it’s already apparent that she’s very competent.
Anyway, she chaired this meeting, about plans for a Joint Assistance Strategy, in essence the Debt and Aid Policy I so covet. After thanking us for our presence, she said something that really threw us: ‘Normally, at this stage in our meeting, I pray for strength and wisdom from the Lord; would any of you like to lead us in prayer at this moment?’ Even though I know that most of my colleagues are religious, and indeed, the Director loves to quote from the scriptures, we all reacted in the same way, like first form students who don’t want to be called up to the blackboard. Everyone was furiously studying their shoelaces. Eventually the PS recited a short prayer herself, as the rest of us respectfully bowed our heads and clasped hands.
Many of you know that I’m a committed atheist. This is something I have actually kept hidden. Malawi is a very religious place, and most conversations eventually get to the question ‘mumapemphera kuti?’, meaning ‘where do you pray?’ The question not only assumes that you do pray, but also that prayer is a regular part of your life, as it’s posed in the present habitual tense. No one minds if you’re not a Christian, as most Malawians are, but the assumption that you must believe in something divine is very difficult to disabuse most people of, and can lead to some very long and frustrating conversations. So, like many atheist foreigners here, I normally tell people I pray in a temple in London, for which there is no Malawian equivalent. This is always accepted and the conversation passes without blows being exchanged.
At a meeting, though, in a country which separates Church and State, and is tolerant of religious diversity, I did find it a bit odd though my friends had warned me that this might happen. It wasn’t meant badly or to exclude anyone, but was done in the unspoken assumption that everyone must be a Christian. I really wanted to do a Richard Pryor, and offer to give a reading from ‘the book of Wonder! A boy was born… in HARD TIME MISSISSIPI! Surrounded by! Four walls! thatwerenotpretty! His parents – that’s two people – gave him love and affection. To keep him going, goingintherightdirection!’
* * *
But why was the meeting fantastic? Primarily because we finally explicitly stated our desire to create a Joint Assistance Strategy, got almost all of the key players together and finally got the ball rolling on starting it. We’ve already hit a donor-shaped brick wall, in that they think we can’t do it, but its within our compass to prove them wrong. It might simply be a case of getting someone other than ourselves, like an independent development capacity expert, to say we’ve got the abilities and will to do it. When the donors are on board, and when our concept paper gets cleared by Cabinet, we’ll be able to move at pace. I hope.
BTW – I’m hopefully going to be drafting this concept paper next week. All depends on whether I can finish our manual for operations in time.
* * *
Well, I’ve bought another car. And as luck would have it, on the same f**king day, they’ve found my old one! Unbelievable. It’s in Mozambique. When I get it back, I’m selling it, and should hopefully recoup the cost of the new car. What a pain.
I understand the Germans have a word for ‘the secret feeling of disappointment one experiences when things don’t turn out as badly as you expected’. If that’s true, I need to find out what word that is; it pretty much sums up my feelings right now.
* * *
Finally, may I point out that Joe Cole was simply fantastic for England this week? He’s surely got to be one of the first names on the team sheet now.
Anyway, she chaired this meeting, about plans for a Joint Assistance Strategy, in essence the Debt and Aid Policy I so covet. After thanking us for our presence, she said something that really threw us: ‘Normally, at this stage in our meeting, I pray for strength and wisdom from the Lord; would any of you like to lead us in prayer at this moment?’ Even though I know that most of my colleagues are religious, and indeed, the Director loves to quote from the scriptures, we all reacted in the same way, like first form students who don’t want to be called up to the blackboard. Everyone was furiously studying their shoelaces. Eventually the PS recited a short prayer herself, as the rest of us respectfully bowed our heads and clasped hands.
Many of you know that I’m a committed atheist. This is something I have actually kept hidden. Malawi is a very religious place, and most conversations eventually get to the question ‘mumapemphera kuti?’, meaning ‘where do you pray?’ The question not only assumes that you do pray, but also that prayer is a regular part of your life, as it’s posed in the present habitual tense. No one minds if you’re not a Christian, as most Malawians are, but the assumption that you must believe in something divine is very difficult to disabuse most people of, and can lead to some very long and frustrating conversations. So, like many atheist foreigners here, I normally tell people I pray in a temple in London, for which there is no Malawian equivalent. This is always accepted and the conversation passes without blows being exchanged.
At a meeting, though, in a country which separates Church and State, and is tolerant of religious diversity, I did find it a bit odd though my friends had warned me that this might happen. It wasn’t meant badly or to exclude anyone, but was done in the unspoken assumption that everyone must be a Christian. I really wanted to do a Richard Pryor, and offer to give a reading from ‘the book of Wonder! A boy was born… in HARD TIME MISSISSIPI! Surrounded by! Four walls! thatwerenotpretty! His parents – that’s two people – gave him love and affection. To keep him going, goingintherightdirection!’
* * *
But why was the meeting fantastic? Primarily because we finally explicitly stated our desire to create a Joint Assistance Strategy, got almost all of the key players together and finally got the ball rolling on starting it. We’ve already hit a donor-shaped brick wall, in that they think we can’t do it, but its within our compass to prove them wrong. It might simply be a case of getting someone other than ourselves, like an independent development capacity expert, to say we’ve got the abilities and will to do it. When the donors are on board, and when our concept paper gets cleared by Cabinet, we’ll be able to move at pace. I hope.
BTW – I’m hopefully going to be drafting this concept paper next week. All depends on whether I can finish our manual for operations in time.
* * *
Well, I’ve bought another car. And as luck would have it, on the same f**king day, they’ve found my old one! Unbelievable. It’s in Mozambique. When I get it back, I’m selling it, and should hopefully recoup the cost of the new car. What a pain.
I understand the Germans have a word for ‘the secret feeling of disappointment one experiences when things don’t turn out as badly as you expected’. If that’s true, I need to find out what word that is; it pretty much sums up my feelings right now.
* * *
Finally, may I point out that Joe Cole was simply fantastic for England this week? He’s surely got to be one of the first names on the team sheet now.
posted by the Maradona of Malawi at 7:36 PM
