What happens in Rhino should not stay in Rhino

Me: Rhino Settlement, West Nile, Uganda

Him: Zanzibar, Tanzania

Distance: 2,015km

The small plane had the feel of a school trip on its way to camp. Half of the passengers wore t-shirts with their NGO logos embroidered on the front and some sort of fridge-magnet worthy message of inspiration on the back. Some talked urgently into their phones or kept their laptops open as we taxied to the runway. Most shared a couple of jokes with their fellow passengers and rolled their eyes as they compared stories of hardship. The self-appointed class clown hummed 'It's Coming Home' and made sure everyone within earshot knew he was a legitimate Aid Worker: a weathered tan and weary attitude to match, who now regarded the refugee settlements as 'home'.

None of this helped ease my discomfort and sense of voyeurism. After all, I was flying into these refugee settlements for literally 24 hours, bringing my own snacks from town and knowing that I had a passport and ticket to leave the next day. Compare this to the refugees themselves, some of which had arrived at the 'camps'* in the 1980s (or been born there), and others that were still arriving from South Sudan or the DRC with few possessions and no paperwork. But I was here for a reason, I reminded myself as we landed in the jumping off town for the camps - Arua.

Village Enterprise has recently partnered with an INGO working in the refugee settlements to set up a microenterprise programme that works with refugees and host communities together, supporting some of the most vulnerable individuals out of extreme poverty. My visit to Rhino settlement had a dual purpose, part to get a better understanding of how our programme may be transferrable to the refugee context (given we are also talking about doing this in other countries), and part to spend some time with the staff member who will be part of my team shortly heading to the DRC.

The next day we headed out to Rhino, me asking as many questions as I could think of to get a better understanding of the context before I arrived. What were the main challenges the refugees were facing? What was their access to markets like? What other programmes were running?

The answers to many of these questions were shocking to me. Humanitarian "aid" and "development" is broken, I started to think angrily as we bounced down the dirt track. Our driver described how multi-lateral agencies handed out specific food and 'non-food items' (NFIs). For example, they might distribute cooking oil, beans, and maize. However, given the recipients had no money, they would then need to sell some of these goods in order to buy soap, clothes, and other essentials. Because the multi-lateral had flooded the settlement with the goods, these were sold at below market rate to middle men. The middle men would collate all their purchases, transport back to Kampala (the capital city), and then re-sell to the same multi-laterals at a higher price... at which point the whole cycle would start again.

Of course it is hard to know how often this happens and to what extent the problem is, but it is presumably common enough given our driver was able to describe the process in some detail.

By the time we arrived I was convinced that the people designated to help were often the ones

capitialising on the situation. The meeting that I was sitting in on with the appointed leaders in the refugee settlement did little to assuage this impression. If this had been any ordinary Village Enterprise project - my colleague told me - we would have walked away from a community whose leaders were so clearly out for themselves. Rather than asking questions about the intended programme, the meeting attendees focused on arguing how they were going to ensure that "their" sector of the settlement was reached.

The shining light in the tattered tent/church meeting space were the two new Business Mentors. These women had been recruited the previous week, and were refugees living in the settlement themselves. Although only five days into their employment, one woman stood up and argued passionately about Village Enterprise and our mission to reach the most vulnerable and extreme poor. The leaders may be variable, but with Joyce and Jackie spearheading the programme, I feel more confident that Village Enterprise can make a difference.

After the meeting I stood under a tree's shade while my colleague debated with the leaders who and how much should be paid for transport costs. (17 had been invited and 26 had turned up, one with a forged letter of invitation). Betty, one of the attendees who had been representing a women's group of some sort (which dealt with complaints of gender based violence and rape), brought me a chair. 'You must be tired', she told me, more of an instruction than comment. I sat down and we started to talk. She told me how she had wanted to speak during the meeting, but there had been no opportunity (and - reading between the lines - no point). She explained that the refugees not only sold the items they were given for free to purchase other essentials, but so that they could bribe NGO officials to be listed as 'vulnerable' and access the programmes. Families were hungry, she told me, because if they did not do this, the NGOs would overlook them in favour for ones that did pay bribes. When I told this to my colleagues in the car back they were unsurprised. Apparently Joyce and Jackie - our new Business Mentors - had already voiced their concern about the targeting process. If they had to do it on their own, they had told Village Enterprise, they would be pressured to take bribes and doctor the lists of those in 'extreme poverty' and therefore eligible. They were relieved to hear that targeting would be done together with Village Enterprise staff, and this pressure would be removed.

We were supposed to have a second meeting, but this did not happen. The leaders we had met with in the first meeting had effectively thrown a spanner in the works with their insistent arguments that we should work in all areas (in spite of limited time and funding), and my colleague now needed to meet with the overall leader again before they could proceed. As we were learning in this context, one step forward, two steps back.

But, I reflected as we bumped down the road to Arua and I flew to Kampala the next day, I could not think of a better team to be taking the steps forward and backward. Our Field Associate had told me on the way to Rhino that you 'need the right heart to work with Village Enterprise'. In this context of Rhino, I see that even more true. Too many people working there do not have the right heart. I myself came away with a heavy heart of how broken the whole situation seems to be, but also a heart full of what might be possible for the refugees Village Enterprise is seeking to serve if my committed and courageous colleagues continue on the path they are on. And to ease my sense of voyeurism, I wanted to share with as many people as possible what I had seen and heard. The complexity, the corruption, but most of all the hope if organisations and their staff can stay strong.

*'Camp' is a very misleading word, and 'settlement' is more accurate. I didn't see as much of Rhino Settlement as I would have liked to, but what I did was not too different from a standard East African village (although much bigger - apparently it takes an hour to drive from end to end). My Ugandan colleagues said how surprised they were about the amount of space that was there. Their perception, like mine, had been that it would be cramped tents. However, although there were still tent like structures, most the buildings I saw were more permanent in structure. After all, refugees have been settling here since before I was born.