Managing emergency relief

'Aid arrives'

Refugees in Africa are being hosted by some of the poorest nations in the world. Their administrative bureaucracy already suffers serious shortages of staff, poor communication, lack of transport, even basic office equipment. But even if poverty did not impose these conditions on the capacity of a host government to respond, normally no government bureaucracies, even in industrialised countries, are organised to cope with such contingencies as an influx of refugees, any more than they are ready to respond to the aftermath of a flood, famine, or earthquake. The idea of setting up special offices with staff trained to deal with disasters is very recent. When confronted with a disaster, natural or man-made, most governments rely on ad-hoc arrangements. [1] In some cases responsibility for refugees is simply assigned to one or another ministry. Refugees in Hong Kong are administered by the prisons department. Often the military and the police play a leading role.

Governments vary in their determination to control assistance programmes. Ethiopia, for example, has established the Relief and Rehabilitation Commission (RRC) and given it responsibility for all relief programmes. It has institutionalised nearly all aspects of relief management to the extent that it has duplicated many of the functions of other ministries. International humanitarian agencies in Ethiopia have had little choice but to work within RRC's guidelines. But many host countries in Africa have adopted a laissez faire approach, handing over responsibility for policy and implementation to UNHCR and/or to an international voluntary agency. Apparently one of the prices of receiving outside aid is the presence of aid personnel to represent the interests of those who fund UNHCR and these include both the donor governments and NGOs (non-governmental organisations). As one African refugee put it, 'Why is it that every US dollar comes with twenty Americans attached to it?' (Alternative Viewpoints 1984.) Presumably, the same question applies to European currency!

UNHCR was established primarily to protect the human rights of refugees and it serves as the channel for multilateral donations. Its funds come from governments, foundations, or individuals. The growing crisis of mass exodus in Africa and elsewhere has prompted the development of an ever increasing number of international humanitarian organizations which also get involved in refugee assistance. According to its policy, UNHCR does not itself implement assistance programmes; this work is done by these 'partner', non-governmental, organisations.

Many NGOs rely heavily, if not entirely, on funds from UNHCR for their overseas operations. Such heavy reliance on funding through UNHCR has led to enormous competition among NGOs for contracts. Unfortunately in some cases winning a contract may depend more on its home government's influence with UNHCR, than on the NGO's competence to do the work in the field. (Harrell-Bond 1985.) Yet over and over UNHCR has had to bear criticism for its inability to assess the capacity of an NGO to fulfil its contract.

Once a host country concedes that it requires outside financial help to support a refugee population, if one is not already there, UNHCR establishes an office. The scale of the emergency and the amount of publicity the emergency receives influence the number of NGOs which converge on the scene. For example, in February 1985, the hotels of Khartoum were bursting with delegations which had come to 'assess the situation', but despite the critical need for water in many parts of the country, and despite the attention the emergency had received over the preceding four months, not one additional drilling rig had by then arrived.

There is a very great tendency for outsiders to mistake the poverty of a country for incompetence and a lack of capacity to organize a relief operation. The apparent lack of efficient administrative services - often equated with small offices and run-down equipment - is viewed as a lacuna which humanitarian organisations must step forward to fill. Since they are the conduit for outside funding, many agencies would be surprised if their right also to make policy regarding refugee matters in a host country was questioned. There is an implicit assumption that their wide international experience is a sufficient credential to get on with the work, whatever the local nuances.

However, UNHCR and international non-governmental organisations (NGOs) do not usually get involved in assisting refugees until sometime after an influx of refugees has begun and the host government decides to request assistance or, as in Thailand, is encouraged to do so by UNHCR. (Shawcross 1984.) A situation which justifies outside intervention is usually determined in terms of overwhelming numbers, although the UNHCR Handbook (1983:2) defines an emergency as 'any situation in which the life or wellbeing of refugees will be threatened unless immediate and appropriate action is taken, and which demands an extraordinary response and exceptional measures.'

There is some evidence to suggest that the experiences in the first few weeks of asylum greatly influence, if not determine, how individuals will cope with the long term psychological effects of the trauma of exile. (Baker 1984.) In 1979 when Ugandans first arrived in Yei River district, UNHCR had only two staff members resident in Juba. Direct management of the limited amount of outside assistance available was organized by Sudanese. Up to 1982, most Ugandan refugees in the Yei River District were mainly dependent on their hosts, the Sudanese. Many recall with gratitude the Sudan Council of Churches (SCC) and Sudanaid, two indigenous NGOs who were on the spot to help them; but more important was the compassion of most local people who welcomed, fed them, and often said, 'Here, you can build your house. You can cultivate this plot of land.' It would be useful to have more detail concerning the manner in which the local bureaucracy reacted to the influx, but this is not available. In the self-settled areas, however, we can glimpse how the local community began to adapt to the social and economic transformation promised by the arrival of the thousands of Ugandans. Once the international agencies arrived on the scene, outsiders, no doubt quite unintentionally, took over the role of hosts. This transformation was to have serious consequences for the refugees.

The field management of an emergency programme for assisting a new influx of refugees which imposes a policy of settlement, involves a range of complicated duties, almost all of which must be organised at the same time. To list only a few, duties include setting-up reception centres along the border; ensuring that food and medical services are both available in them and in the transit camps for refugees who are waiting to go to a settlement; organising the daily runs of lorries to the border to collect refugees; counting and registering refugees at reception points and elsewhere; gathering information on the size of the population to be anticipated; co-ordinating the delivery of food and the health, agricultural, and educational services; finding sites for settlements; surveying the land for agriculture; determining how water will be supplied; often even organizing the construction of access roads and bridges; overseeing the maintenance of vehicles and obtaining fuel supplies; transporting people and supplies to settlements; recruiting and overseeing staff; organising accounting systems; planning new budgets and programmes; reporting; receiving delegations from settlements, from government, and from abroad (including journalists); supervising the settlements; dealing with outbreaks of violence among refugees (or between them and the local people); starting up schools; and attending to individual refugees whose needs fall outside the scope of the standardised programme.

All these activities depend on an efficient procurement service which is under the control of personnel who are familiar with the particular demands of the local environment. For example, local road conditions, and the availability of spares and services, should determine which vehicles are ordered, food should be in keeping with customary habits; people should know how to use the tools which are ordered, etc. It is remarkable that outsiders have presumed to undertake such responsibility without consulting local expertise. Too few humanitarian aid agencies make sufficient attempt to liase with local officials or with the refugees themselves.

Humanitarians and 'institutional destruction'

Relief programmes are, by definition, temporary. In theory, agencies involved in relief programmes should work in close partnership with the local administration. An emergency and the arrival of trained professionals with experience in managing the logistics of relief should be the opportunity for the host government to strengthen its capacity to manage its own programme after the humanitarians leave. On paper at least the Sudan had evolved a formula which might have achieved these objectives, but there is evidence to suggest that the process of introducing aid from outside has had the effect of weakening the very structures which the Sudan had been developing over several years to manage refugee assistance.

Eliot Morss (1984) suggests that the most important difference between development assistance in the 1970s and earlier decades was not the emphasis on the rural poor...but instead the 'institutional destruction' effects of 'donor and project proliferation'. He describes how foreign donors are contributing to the breakdown of institutions in Africa and suggests that remedial actions are urgently required. Taking Malawi, Lesotho and Zambia as examples, he describes this process of institutional destruction as resulting from the burdens of the expanding numbers of projects and donors, each having its own goals, each having its own requirements for project preparation, with each mission expecting 'to meet with senior government officials'. The result of these and the other demands which he outlines contributes to the reduction of the capacity of the government 'to run its own affairs and to establish its own policies'. This process of institutional destruction, as far as COMREF is concerned, began in earnest from 1980.

The presence of expatriate 'experts' may have a negative effect upon work attitudes. There has been no special training to qualify anyone to manage refugee assistance, yet there are extreme status differences which are marked by salaries. It is not uncommon for expatriates to have even fewer appropriate qualifications for their job than their Sudanese counterparts, but expatriates receive wages which allow them a standard of living far above even what most could afford at home. Even to employ the nomenclature, 'expatriate' or 'expert' rather than the more accurate term, 'migrant worker', emphasises the superior status outsiders expect to be accorded.[2]

There are also status differences within the humanitarian community which affect working relationships; they too are not based upon training, ability, or experience, but follow the salaries which different agencies pay. Many UNHCR officials expect to be recognised as international diplomats. While displaying the UN flag in some circumstances may be useful, it also symbolises the role they assume vis-a-vis other humanitarians.

Morss points out that one of the most 'unfortunate' results, from the standpoint of the recipient, is that 'The expatriates, knowing their salaries are ultimately being paid by donors, become answerable to donors rather than to the government of the developing country.' If economic factors determine the direction of accountability in development projects, how much more will they influence attitudes of humanitarians? Governments usually want to fund development projects, but most are very reluctant to support relief agencies' budgets.

For those who might argue against any international humanitarian involvement, and there are those who do, there is at least one question which has to be addressed. If African host governments do require outside funding for assisting refugees, how will they attract it? Humanitarians represent the consciences of the rich countries of the world. They go to a situation, see the problems, and return to lobby for aid. One solution might be to give recognition to more refugee organisations who could do their own publicity and fundraising. As we shall see, Sudan has taken an important step in this direction.[3]

The issues raised by the problems the Commissioner for Refugees faced in trying to maintain control over the refugee programme and continuing to develop its own expertise and policy are more complex than might be implied by the brief account which follows. These matters are larger than particular personalities. It is very clear that a different approach to assisting governments which host refugees must be found. What is needed at this point, as Morss also notes, is to begin to 'get major donors talking about the problem'. Outsiders will point to the incompetence and inefficiency of the Commissioner's office which made it necessary for them to take over. After a new Commissioner, appointed in 1982, the staff was expanded, new offices were acquired, and salaries improved, etc. But as Morss puts it, 'You do not really learn how to do it until you have the power to make your own decisions.' New offices, higher salaries aside, COMREF's power to direct policy has been steadily eroded since 1980.

Some background

In 1967 the Sudan government opened the office of the Commission for Refugees (COMREF), to liase with the police and security as well as with the other ministries which were concerned with a sudden expansion of population in different areas. Most importantly, the Commission was to be the implementing body for all assistance channelled into the country either unilaterally, earmarked for refugees, or multilaterally, through UNHCR. The provincial offices which COMREF established were directly responsible to the central office in Khartoum. Some agencies, including indigenous voluntary agencies, worked with COMREF, providing various kinds of expertise, supplies and funds.

While its work proceeded on an ad hoc basis without a separate budget or institutionalised guidelines, it made genuine contributions to policy development. The enactment of the 1974 Asylum Act (even with its limitations)[4] testifies to the success of COMREF in lobbying its government to uphold international conventions concerning the rights of refugees.

Throughout the 1970s with the numbers of refugees growing, Sudan found it increasingly difficult to cope with the financial burden. According to some sources, considerably less than half the refugees in Africa receive assistance (Clark and Stein 1984), but clearly in the Sudan (and elsewhere, Somalia and Kenya, for example), the proportion of unassisted refugees has always been much higher than this. In 1979 the aid programme funded through UNHCR served only 60,000 out of a total population of 441,000 refugees. (In Sudan there has never been a serious quarrel over numbers.) Up to 1980 Sudan received very little outside funding. (Al-Bashir 1978; Karadawi 1977.)

The relative neglect of the refugee problem in the Sudan by international donors had very clear advantages. It meant that the Sudan had time to gain a considerable level of proficiency in administering assistance and to develop its own policy.[5] It was only after 1980 that the humanitarian community began to take a serious interest in the refugee problem in the Sudan. Significant increases in funding began in 1981 and the number of voluntary agencies has been increasing ever since. However, as some Sudanese would describe it, the 'battle for sovereignty' began to be lost in 1979 when Sudan joined in the demand for more funds for African refugees.

At the May 1979 Pan African Conference on the 'Situation of Refugees in Africa', host countries insisted that the rhetoric of burden-sharing be translated into action. Host countries criticized the international aid agencies for absolving themselves of responsibility through the convenient belief that African refugees were being supported by their kith and kin.

At that time and until 1982, only three professional staff were manning the Khartoum office of COMREF, and there were project management officers in the areas where refugees were congregated. A counselling section had been established in Khartoum which dealt with some of the problems of individual refugees. Up to 1980, UNHCR had a very small presence in the Sudan and there were only a handful of international voluntary agencies.

Although none of the staff of COMREF had special training for managing refugee programmes, as its offices expanded throughout the 1970s, recruitment was mainly through secondment from local government staff. The Commissioner himself was a senior civil servant in local government. The men he selected for work in eastern Sudan were among the most experienced. On the whole COMREF's professional staff comprised highly trained local government officials who shared a sense of commitment to the special problems of refugees; their experience of the administration of nationals allowed them to keep the problems of refugees squarely within the wider perspective of the society as a whole.

The Sudan government supported the office of COMREF and COMREF was responsible for implementing its own programme. The accounts of COMREF were audited by the Sudanese Auditor-General and also by UNHCR's own auditing system, but budgetary control of projects was maintained by COMREF. This provided an element of control and the possibility of imposing financial accountability. As it was the policy of COMREF that the Sudanese should implement refugee assistance programmes, it called upon voluntary organisations, including indigenous ones, to act as its partners where it saw a need. Before an outside agency was granted permission to operate in the Sudan, it had to be established that it had the required expertise and, usually, that it had funds. However the numbers of refugees continued to increase and the services in refugee affected areas were collapsing. The Commissioner began to make plans to strengthen the monitoring capacity of his office and to find ways and means to attract more outside support.

The 1980 Refugee Fund Bill

While it should be unnecessary to explain that governments are made up of factions representing different interest groups, and that politicians (and civil servants) are constantly playing one off against the other in their struggle for power and access to resources, humanitarian agencies do not apparently appreciate the struggle which COMREF faced in dealing with the different ministries which made up the government. Although under-staffed and poorly equipped, the main problem for COMREF was not lack of management skills, but lack of power within that complex structure. Its authority over refugee programmes was often bypassed. For example, the Sudanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs would sometimes negotiate directly not only with embassies, the OAU, the permanent mission in Geneva, but even with the executive council of UNHCR.

At the symposium (Alternative Viewpoints 1984), the ex-Commissioner recalled the struggle in which his office had been involved, 'battles with the security [forces] to protect refugees from expulsion, battles with government circles to secure more land for refugees, battles with Finance to exempt goods from customs duties, battles with the Ministry of Commerce to secure an adequate share of imported foodstuffs.' Instead of recognising the positive role outside organisations could play in strengthening the hand of COMREF in these 'battles', the humanitarians only added another dimension to the problem and took, as we shall see, quick advantage of any weakness of the office in its relations with the government. As he put it in his address to the symposium, on top of all these battles were the 'never ending battles with UNHCR [which were] unnecessary and... irrelevant... I think those battles could have ended.'

In 1979, when Nemeiry made the first of many moves towards the devolution of power to the regions, he reorganised the ministries. The Ministry of Interior was dissolved and some of its different functions attached to regional governments. In the process, COMREF remained in limbo for six months, after which it was temporarily attached to the newly organized Ministry. Its uncertain status during this time affected its ability to carry out its mandate and to encourage the enforcement of Sudanese law concerning refugees' rights. Most significantly, it weakened its position vis-avis the international aid community which descended on the Sudan after 1981.

In 1980 the Refugee Fund Bill (1980) was drafted with the purpose of strengthening the office of COMREF. COMREF was to become a semi-autonomous body having four departments, all under an umbrella organization, a national council of aid for refugees. All ministries whose work was affected by refugees should be represented on it and it should have sufficient power to carry out its work. Thus rather than establishing parallel structures for refugee agriculture, refugee health, etc., thereby weakening those ministries by drawing expertise away from them, the programme would work towards integrating refugee assistance by embedding it in the ministries whose work was directly related to the aid programme.

The legislation required, among other things, the pooling of all funds, both those obtained internationally and those from the local budget for refugees. It allowed COMREF to recruit its own staff without reference to other ministries. The Bill gave the council the degree of freedom necessary to negotiate with other ministries directly, for example, with the Treasury over exchange rates on funds given for refugee assistance, and charges on the import of relief items.[6] It would also allow direct negotiation with regional offices over land allocations for settlements and in times of financial difficulties, it would be able to appeal directly to international donors for support. The Refugee Fund Bill (1980) was passed in 1981. COMREF remained under the Ministry of Internal Affairs with the Minister, not the Commissioner, made chairman of the Fund.

Among other significant changes there was also a plan to encourage the development of indigenous voluntary agencies under a national council and to stimulate them to improve their capacity to work with COMREF as implementing partners. There were some thirty such organisations in the Sudan and they included refugee-based agencies as well. It was the policy of COMREF to encourage these latter groups to take on more responsibility for their own communities. They had already proven their superior capacity for implementing projects. COMREF began lobbying to convince the government to recognise these groups so they could enjoy duty-free import privileges. By 1985, three of them, the Relief Society of Tigrey, the Eritrean Red Cross/Crescent Society, and Ethiopian Aid, were given this recognition.

The 1980 Conference

For good or for ill, other African host countries in Africa owe a great deal to the initiative of the former Commissioner for Refugees in the Sudan. Having watched the numbers of refugees building up, but the monies available not increasing proportionately,[7] he decided, as he put it, to 'bring the problem out into the open. . .It's an international problem, not just a problem for Sudan alone.' (Alternative Viewpoints 1984.) Aiming to secure more funding to develop the infrastructure in refugee-affected areas, the Commissioner announced in December 1979 that the Sudan would organize its own international conference and invite donor governments and international agencies to see for themselves the problems his country was facing. A series of projects was drawn up which would be used to attract funds. The conference was held in June 1980. (Documentation for the June Conference Khartoum 1980.)

International agencies and in particular, UNHCR, did not welcome the idea of this conference. Obviously unilateral aid to a host government which implements its own programmes is the more economical way to assist refugees. If donors were to be convinced of the efficiency of Sudan's approach to assistance, it would then be difficult for international agencies to convince governments to fund their own bureaucracies. What if other African governments followed this precedent? It is not unusual for international agencies to protect their turf by arguing against direct aid to poor countries.[8]

UNHCR put its own policy concerning the 1980 conference on paper and the memorandum was circulated to guide the representatives on how to lobby governments. It argued that Sudan was asking for unrealistic amounts of money for unnecessary projects, and that donors should be advised that UNHCR had already made its own calculations and adequate projections for increasing aid over the coming three years from its own budget. Rumours also began circulating that the Sudan government was about to launch a campaign to raise revenue by capitalizing on refugees. The UNHCR document arguing against the conference project fell into the hands of the COMREF Commissioner who immediately flew to Geneva and was able to use it to force an unwilling UNHCR to give public support to the conference. After this visit, an inter-agency mission was sent to the Sudan, and, as he reported 'at the same time, we noticed that UNHCR began to look more favourably [on] our requests. Within the same year their contribution rose from less than 3 million to 11 million.' The Commissioner remembered that 'by the end of the year, it rose to $30.4 million.' (Alternative Viewpoints 1984). Recalling this unhappy period, the ex-Commissioner asked why could the donors not ask themselves, 'Why is Sudan launching this campaign? Is UNHCR not helping Sudan enough or what?, [Instead] rumours [went] round that Sudan wanted to boost its own economy. I must tell you that if you are given one billion dollars, it is nothing. It is better not to have refugees, than to [have] to launch such a campaign.' (Alternative Viewpoints 1984.)

Again, it depends on one's viewpoint as to whether or not the conference was a success. It did not raise the funds required to implement the proposed projects, but it drew international attention to Sudan's refugee crisis. Formerly, at any one time there were perhaps five international refugee agencies in the country; by 1982 there were more than thirty operating in the Sudan.

In the meantime, other influences and events were bearing down upon the office of the Commissioner for Refugees. Only a few of the details of the machinations of the various actors involved are available, but those which are known begin to give a glimpse of how the process of imposing aid can unwittingly combine with internal power struggles and serve to weaken local administrative structures.

The US government had entered into agreements to expand its military presence in the Sudan. It had begun its resettlement programme to take carefully selected Ethiopian refugees to the US,[9] and the Embassy began to take a greater interest in refugee affairs. The Commissioner began to seek money to implement the Refugee Fund Bill. USAID, apparently appreciating the need for the offices of COMREF to expand, offered to inject funds. If the staff was to be increased, other premises were needed. There was a plan to build offices. Office equipment, for example typewriters, was urgently needed (and still is), and there were not even enough filing cabinets. The office had only two vehicles at its disposal, one donated by a German agency and the other supplied by the government. The Commissioner was using his own car at this time for office work. In order to motivate his staff and at the same time to avoid imbalances between his office and other ministries, a scheme of indirect benefits, including health insurance, was devised. But when additional funds to support the office were available, they came from UNHCR's budget.

A new minister was appointed by Nemeiry and he ordered an immediate auditing of all accounts. It is quite usual for an administrator in the 'third world' to take steps to ensure that he starts with a clean sheet - it is vital when later he has to defend himself. (Rumours that COMREF handled large sums from abroad affected its relations within the government, as well as fuelling the suspicions of outsiders.) COMREF's accounts were not only in order, but they were found to be holding a credit balance - a precaution taken by the Commissioner in anticipation of an emergency influx. The government decided it should be the beneficiary of any interest on these savings, and demanded that the funds be deposited in the accounts of the Ministry of Finance. [10]

During this same period another incident contributed to the air of growing distrust between the agencies and COMREF. Food, unilaterally donated by Saudi Arabia, en route to refugees in southern Sudan was diverted. Even before the Commissioner's office was alerted, the scandal appeared in the British press. The project manager was suspended, but the allegations against him have never been settled in court.

Tensions between the Commissioner and his Minister became known and agency representatives took quick advantage of this weak link. They began to bypass the Commissioner, dealing directly with the Minister. The manipulation of the tensions between the Minister and the Commissioner may have been responsible for the latter's replacement in 1982 by a member of the diplomatic corps who, having spent his career abroad, had no previous administrative experience in the Sudan. The new Commissioner, along with all the other new staff appointed, had to learn the work of the office almost from scratch.

Despite the legislation which called for the pooling of all funds earmarked for refugee assistance and despite the authority given to the 'umbrella' council established under the Refugee Fund Bill, at this time UNHCR assumed responsibility for monetary control. It opened an account with the foreign-owned Citibank, rather than with Sudan's National Bank.[11]

Under this arrangement, projects implemented by voluntary agencies received funds directly from UNHCR. Instead of being directly under the control of the Commissioner's office, the practice of the tripartite agreement - drawn up between COMREF, UNHCR, and an agency - was established. Understandably, agencies began to regard themselves as answerable to UNHCR, not to COMREF. In March 1985, the Deputy Commissioner complained that there were now agencies working in the Sudan which, as far as he knew, had never even visited his office to introduce themselves.[l2]

Under the newly appointed Commissioner, as noted, the offices of COMREF expanded and were re-located in more spacious quarters near the university. The counselling centre, a programme being phased out, was moved to the former offices of UNHCR, while the latter took offices on the upper floors of a new high rise office block. Since 1982 UNHCR has supplemented the budget of the office of the Commissioner and by 1985, with an annual 'topping-up' budget from UNHCR (reportedly £S300,000), the Commissioner could afford to organize an efficient office, to pay his senior staff a higher salary, and to supply the office with a few vehicles. The number of staff has increased, individuals having been seconded from other ministries with no previous experience in refugee affairs. As with expatriate agency personnel, there was no opportunity for them to receive specialized training before assuming responsibility and by 1985 too little time to judge whether experience is the best teacher.

Apparently the US government did not think it was. They convinced the Commissioner to invite another US agency to assess the need for training and to organize in-service courses for COMREF staff. Its representative, who also has no experience in refugee affairs (although the agency claims expertise in imparting management skills), interviewed COMREF staff to ascertain the gaps in skills which needed to be filled. The deputy commissioner appreciated the efforts of the agency's representative, but, as he put it to me, unfortunately his staff were not giving their co-operation. Imposing aid is never likely to serve Africa's interests. An African colleague wrote a description of this process in his office in another country. He was asked to prepare a two year plan for training the staff of an office which comprised 706 members.

Our workshop. .. was organized by some . . . ex-colonials who are still active in this part of the world. Their main objective in discussing such issues was to prepare the way for studies to be conducted by British firms and to formulate projects to be implemented by British contractors. There was a lot of dispute and clashes . . . At the end they . . . won because they are backed from some people high above! ! They were also able to recruit some of their third rate experts, boyscouts like those of ...

Yei River District

The emergency programme, which is the subject of this study was implemented in Yei River District (YRD). With two exceptions, all the settlements included in the survey were located in this district which includes the Kajo-Kaji subdistrict. Dororolili and Katigiri settlements lie just over the borders in Maridi and Juba districts. In 1984, following the eviction of the self-settled refugees from Kajo-Kaji, six more settlements were opened in Maridi district.

YRD is bound on three sides by the Nile river and the Uganda/Zaire borders as shown in Map 1. Though poorly maintained, all-weather roads link the district with Juba and connect Yei with the border towns of Kaya, Baze, and Kajo-Kaji. There are only a few feeder roads and during the rainy season these are treacherous or impassable. For domestic water the population relies mainly on surface water or temporary wells. Water-borne diseases are the most important cause of ill health and their incidence is highest during the peak period of agricultural labour activities (Dickie 1983.) Limited primary health care service is available throughout the district. Mandari, a hospital in name only, was located at Kajo-Kaji, and Yei had a hospital with one hundred beds. Education is provided on a 'self-help' basis, i.e. once a community builds a school, the government is committed to provide teachers. Secondary schools were located in Yei, Kajo-Kaji, and Loka and provided places for only a few hundred.

The indigenous population is made up of some eight different ethnic communities deriving from three language groups. The proximity of the borders and experiences of exile of many as a result of the Sudan civil war had produced a quite cosmopolitan though poor indigenous population.[13] Many of the local people have lived in Zaire or Uganda (Dickie 1983). Most of those who have been to school received their education while in exile in Uganda. There has been a considerable migration to Juba and even further afield for employment. [14]

In 1982-3 there was a settled population of perhaps a few hundred northern Sudanese in Yei and Kaya who supply most of the imported goods for sale in the area and purchase cash crops including honey and coffee from the farmers. Most, if not all, of these northerners moved out of Kajo-Kaji after local people banded together and refused to buy from their shops. This solidarity was achieved after the return of southern Sudanese who were in business in Uganda up to 1979. Having very few of their own, the population of the district depended on purchasing cattle from the Dinka who intermittently pass through the district. Their 'visits' became more frequent in 1984, whether in response to the greater demand in the district, or from the pressure of war and drought elsewhere in the south. (McGregor in Wilson et al 1985.)

Despite the fact that colonial boundaries divided political and social units, there is not much evidence to suggest that ethnicity or a common history was a major factor in the reception of most refugees from Uganda. There has been some intermarriage between the Kuku of the Sudan with the Madi of Uganda. These two groups live near the Nile on either side of the border. The Kakwa were a minority group in Uganda and because in Uganda they lived adjacent to the Lugbara, many claimed the two groups were related. But the languages they speak are not mutually intelligible. There are Kakwa in the Sudan, and the few Kakwa-speaking Ugandans who were found in settlements bear witness to the fact that is was easier for this group to establish themselves among local Kakwa-speakers.[15] But for the majority of Ugandans language barriers had to be overcome.

Before the 1979 influx of refugees, the population of Yei River District was probably no more than 100,000. This calculation is based on a 1981 study, and the 1983 census, together with the survey data collected in 1982-3. In 1981, the Social Monitoring Study put the total population of the district at 149,824. The ODA team conducting the study for the development plan for the district estimated the population of Sudanese at the time of the 1983 census at 150,000, but they did not have any basis for knowing how many refugees had already entered Sudan before the 1981 Social Monitoring Study. From the survey of the settlements and interviews of the unassisted refugees it is known that at least 43,901 Ugandans were already living in the district by the end of 1980. The 1983 official government census put the population of the district at 355,688, suggesting there could be as many as 250,000 refugees in Yei River District alone.

The difficulty of estimating the total population of such an area at any one time is demonstrated by the fact that after the 1983 census, conducted in March, thousands more Ugandans registered for settlement and many of these were new arrivals from Zaire and Uganda. And, as described earlier, at least 18,000 people were disturbed in the Kajo-Kaji area in 1984 and transferred to the Maridi district. In 1983-4 some refugees repatriated back to Uganda, but in December 1984, there was another influx into the Kajo-Kaji area.

To the untutored outsider's eye, Yei River District appeared to raise no major obstacles to imposing a uniform settlement policy. But while it is an area of relatively high potential compared to the rest of southern Sudan, there is in fact great variety within the district in terms of rainfall patterns and the fertility of the soil. Six 'zones' have been distinguished in terms of their potential for agriculture. They range from two with the highest rainfall and the best soils, to three which have the least potential for production, the zones suffering infertile, overcultivated, or thin gravely soils. While land as such was not in short supply before the arrival of the Ugandan refugees, already some areas - Kajo-Kaji and around Yei - were feeling the pinch from population pressure. Elsewhere large areas of unused land were restricted from use by the lack of water or contamination by tsetse fly as well as the absence of roads to reach them.

During the 1930s, the British colonial administration forced the entire population of the district to move to the roadsides in order to facilitate control and to protect the people from sleeping sickness. The effect of this policy was to cause the Sudanese to rely on the less desirable soils for cultivation. Even though the rule of roadside habitation was relaxed in the 1940s, the pattern of settlement in YRD still reflects this earlier disruption. Today, aside from the main towns of Yei and Kajo-Kaji and a few large villages along the roads, people live in scattered homesteads. The earlier pattern of shifting cultivation has been modified as a result of the location of certain amenities such as schools and markets, the intensification of agriculture, and the increasing importance of perennial crops such as coffee.

YRD rarely suffers extreme food shortages, but food is in shortest supply during the months of June and July. People depend heavily on foraging for wild plants during this period which also coincides with the period of peak demand for agricultural labour. The staple crops which are grown, in order of their importance, are cassava, sorghum, finger millet, and maize. Sweet potatoes are produced all over the district and groundnuts, sesame, cowpeas, pigeon peas, and beans are grown as relish crops. Other vegetables and fruits, (paw paw, citrus, mango, and banana), are seasonally available in different parts of the district. Poultry are kept and goats are found in many parts of YRD. For the Sudanese, cattle are unimportant, their herds having long ago been wiped out by disease and raiding. Rice and tea are grown in the wetter parts of the district. Coffee, tobacco, and the sale of food crops are the main source of cash. As Dickie (1983) states, the farming system in YRD is a combination of hunting, gathering, subsistence agriculture and cash cropping. Practices such as intercropping and staggered planting, and the wide range of crop varieties grown, emphasize the importance of risk minimisation, and combine with hunting and gathering to ensure 'a continual supply of food for the family throughout the year'. The most limiting factor on agricultural production (at least before the arrival of the Ugandans) was the supply of labour. Low population density, the low level of technology employed (mechanisation is limited to a few grinding mills), the effects of debilitating diseases, and inadequate diets combine at the busiest time of the farming year. Farming depends mainly on household labour, with women largely responsible for weeding and harvesting. These duties conflict with their domestic responsibilities; it is overwork leading to the neglect of children, rather than poverty, which probably accounts for the limited degree of malnourishment observed among the Sudanese during this period (Dickie 1983.)

The main off-farm activities of the Sudanese are beer-making, hunting, fishing, gathering honey, and making tools. Although cash crops are increasingly important, there are no doubt several reasons why it was found that the main priority of most farmers was the satisfaction of their subsistence requirements. (ibid). The lack of storage facilities means that farmers must sell their excess at harvest time when prices are lowest. Transport to market is another major constraint. [16] Only a few have managed to combine forces and get their surplus to the Juba market where prices are higher. Prices at the farm gate are set by the northern traders. Perhaps just as important as these constraints on production for cash is the fact that before the arrival of the Ugandans, there were very few markets where one could buy manufactured goods and other commodities which were not locally produced.

In general, the availability of cash does not seem to be the main limiting factor on the expansion of the economy. When the Catholic Centre opened a kindergarten in Yei town, for example, Father Peter received 1000 applications even though the fee was £S40 per annum. Since the school's capacity was only 150, he accepted only one child from each family. Refugees from Otogo who worked as wage labourers for locals reported that farmers near their settlement kept their cash in their houses and sometimes had as much as £S800 stashed in a mattress. Economists rarely have good information on the 'informal' economy. The proximity of the district to the borders meant that YRD was a centre for smuggling gold, diamonds, coffee, and tea. At least one refugee got involved in the gold traffic.

The Programme in the South

As with every refugee emergency, southern Sudan presented some unique circumstances. UNHCR had a branch office in Juba. International voluntary agencies had been entrenched in the south since the end of the 1972 civil war. (Betts 1974.) UNHCR had been involved in the reception of the returnees at that time and a number of organizations had made long-term commitments to the rehabilitation of the south. Attitudes among most aid personnel towards the potential of southerners to take responsibility for their own economy and development programmes were summed up in an article in the Los Angeles Times (Powers 1983) in which southern Sudan was denounced as a sinkhole for foreign aid. (Harrell-Bond 1983:19.) COMREF established a general project manager's office in Juba to administer the refugee programme. Unfortunately many of the attitudes held by the expatriate community towards southerners were shared by some northern officials as well. In 1980, when the project manager was alleged to have been responsible for the diversion of a shipment of food for refugees and suspended, he was not immediately replaced. The battle for sovereignty was then between the Juba government and Khartoum. The regional government in the south insisted on the right to name the replacement and disputes over which candidate Khartoum would approve, together with the rescheduling of the 1981 elections in Juba to 1982, further delayed an appointment in the south.

At first COMREF sent its deputy commissioner to run the office. Three voluntary agencies had already been asked to incorporate refugee assistance into their already established aid programmes in Eastern Equatoria and to serve as UNHCR's implementing partners. These were the Norwegian Church Aid, funded mainly by the Norwegian government, and working on the east bank of the Nile; the Africa Committee for Rehabilitation of Southern Sudan (ACROSS), whose funds come from an international consortium of Christian organizations and which already had a small programme in the south; and the Sudan Council of Churches (SCC), an indigenous organization with its head office in Khartoum, which is dependent on funds from an international religious consortium. SCC had had a record of a good standard of work among refugees in eastern Sudan; in the south it had been among the first to respond to the emergency in 1979. It set up the only health service for refugees in the camps opened in 1979-81.[17] Another agency, the German Medical Team, was responsible for the health programme in Yei River District. Headed by a Catholic theologian, an ex-priest, it received its funds from the German government, Caritas, and possibly other sources. Later, the GMT became UNHCR's implementing partner for refugee health in Yei River District.

The influence of the then deputy commissioner's attitude of scepticism towards the southerners' capacity to run their own programmes, complimented those of the staff of the voluntary agencies and head of the UNHCR office in Juba. The incident involving corruption encouraged the expatriate community to take over complete control of the programme. The assistant general project manager, who had survived the scandal of the food diversion, was made acting general project manager, but his fully staffed office played almost no role at all in the planning and implementation of the programme up to 1983.

In addition to the acting general project manager, two project managers were employed to work on the east and west bank programmes. The project manager for the east bank was stationed in Torit. All through 1982 the project manager for the west bank was largely prevented from working in Yei River District. His vehicle, donated by UNHCR, was in a state of disrepair. His efforts to move to Yei were also obstructed by bureaucratic wrangling, and the lack of finances. Again, while a highly experienced and skilful administrator, he made almost no contribution to decision-making during the height of the emergency in 1982. By the time he was able to move to Yei (the central headquarters for the district), too much of his time was spent solving problems and patching up misunderstandings between the UNHCR office and local officials, many of which could have been avoided had Sudanese been allowed to assume major responsibility for the programme from the outset. [18]

UNHCR expanded its branch office at Juba, employed two programme officers to work on the east and west banks of the Nile, entered formal contracts with the voluntary agencies, and proceeded, in contradiction of its own policy, to implement the emergency programme once the numbers began to escalate in 1982.

Management of aid in Yei River District

Because the outsiders assumed most responsibility for the day-to-day running of the assistance programme, and because they did not delegate, throughout the 1982-3 emergency, the relief operation in Yei River district was always undermanned. International agency field-workers continually underestimate the abilities of local people, both Sudanese and Ugandan. This is an example of the way in which the logic of compassion is pursued to the point where it helps to create the problems it attempts to solve. Often interpretations of compassion seem to define those in need as helpless, and then work in ways which makes sure that they are useless. The 1982 relief operation is a case in point.

In 1982, the entire programme was supervised by one UNHCR officer who was stationed in Juba. Juba is located some 220 kilometres from Yei (the central headquarters for the district) and the nearest border point where refugees crossed into the Sudan was another 105 kilometres away. Temporary assistance was provided during 1982 by short-term consultants. Only one of them had previous experience in management. The failure to make immediate provision for the technical skills and logistical support required to manage resources effectively on location not only led to great waste, but adversely affected the attitudes of refugees and local Sudanese officials.

When I first arrived in 1982 the programme was being managed from a room in a hotel. Later, two offices were rented - in anticipation of official approval from Geneva - but there were no funds to pay the Sudanese landlord who became increasingly impatient to collect the rent.

There are many ways in which an assistance programme can either contribute to the development of an area, or increase inequalities and resentment. The local council had offered UNHCR land, pointing out that one year's rent would pay the costs of building; later, the offices could be handed over to the town. As the emergency continued both UNHCR and the NGOs required more and more office space, but constrained by policies which plan only for the short term, they continued to rent newly-built office blocks. Two businessmen, not indigenous to the area, profited enormously from the emergency programme as builders and property owners. A local builder could not bid for any of the contracts because he lacked a lorry.

With no budget, the field office was dependent on the programme officer's small portable typewriter; it lacked tables, chairs, filing cabinets and stationery - not to mention the staff to type reports or to deal with individual cases. Maintenance of vehicles depended entirely on the few tools which one refugee had carried with him. Six months from the onset of the emergency in 1982, OXFAM helped out by supplying the Yei office with a set of hand tools for car maintenance. Spare parts were stored in Juba. No vehicle was equipped to repair tyres on the road and even the need to carry more than one spare tyre had not been anticipated. Bad road conditions aside, new vehicles were literally destroyed through bad management, as unsupervised drivers failed to check fluids, and on occasion even drove them into the river to 'wash' the motors! By October 1982 there were only three lorries sufficiently roadworthy to transport refugees and supplies.

The prevailing idea that UNHCR staff should conduct their work from offices rather than in the field, meant that the programme officer was expected to be behind his desk in Juba most of the time. This created serious problems in managing resources and staff in Yei and led to unnecessary difficulties. For days at a time, a storeman in Yei was responsible for directing the transport of refugees and supplies between borders and settlements, and had to handle the large sums of money necessary to keep the programme functioning. Later, when it was discovered he had succumbed to temptation and that fuel was being sold and material aid similarly 'diverted', it was difficult to dismiss him. UNHCR feared he would sue, as had another employee (a driver) when he had been dismissed without following the rules. In the rush of the emergency, few employees in Yei had proper contracts of service.

In mid-1982 the head of the UNHCR Juba office was transferred, and the office was being run by a temporary consultant. With both the representative and his deputy away in Geneva, the programme officer took the opportunity to move to the location of the emergency, despite the fact that authorization had not yet come from Geneva for an office in Yei.

Few expatriate agency staff have previous management experience themselves and lack knowledge of local rules and regulations. Yet usually work is undertaken as if nothing might be learned from consultation or benefit from team work. Up to this time contacts with local officials in Yei had been largely limited to those instances when a signature was required, or some crisis had arisen which required their intervention. The excuse given for bypassing local bureaucracy is the need for the speedy delivery of relief. Local officials have long experience of expatriates who, in their view, flout their authority and ignore their greater knowledge of local conditions. It is not surprising then, that instead of co-operation, expatriate personnel often meet with passive or even active resistance.

Some Sudanese government officials were so angry they reacted in irrational or petty ways. For example, late in 1982, OXFAM sent an emergency medical team to Yei. The programme officer was accused of having failed to observe some minute detail of protocol and the local government official threatened to have the team arrested unless brought promptly to his office for introductions.

In another case a site for a settlement was selected under bizarre conditions, and without proper consultation with the local government offices. (Harrell-Bond 1982: Pt.II.) Later, a politician demanded that this entire settlement be moved, claiming that refugees were living astride his (unplanted) coffee plantation. No one, not even the Yei Commissioner, agreed that this man had any right to the land, nor were they prepared to follow his directive to move the refugees. But the lack of proper documentation in the files of his office made it difficult to defend the decision not to remove the refugees.

Commenting on this discussion of the anger of Sudanese towards fieldworkers for their failure to observe rules, Howard Adelman suggests that 'The real dilemma is that all networks - bureaucratic, entrepreneurial, political - depend on degrees of trust and not primarily on the rules of the game, though there might be rules.' He asks, 'Does the introduction of strangers into a situation stimulate distrust? Who should the strangers trust? Who can trust the stranger? So it is not just knowledge, or following common rules; there is an affective dimension which is ignored by too many scholars.'[19]

And this affective dimension may also be ignored by too many fieldworkers! Outsiders continually underestimate the latent anger of many Africans. This understandable response has its roots in colonial experience. Simply paying more respect to officials will not resolve it, but outsiders could adopt behaviour which did not exacerbate the problem. Most whom I observed appeared unwilling to bend their life style in order to command the trust of local people. They maintained their 'distance' - even during leisure times - in a society which places great emphasis upon personal relationships. Given the implicit assumption which many carried into the field, that few Africans are trustworthy, it must have been extremely difficult for these outsiders to place their confidence in any official.

The programme officer did attempt to set things right. He began by calling a meeting of agencies working in the district (clandestine because this had been forbidden by the head of the Juba office), and later he held a meeting which included representatives of the local government. His willingness to be 'entrepreneurial' in contrast to rule bound behaviour - particularly when the rules were so arbitrary, laid down by distant authorities, and not reflecting local customs - was the key to any improvement in relations between UNHCR and the Sudanese, and largely accounts for its degree of success.

The division of duties

In 1982 the UNHCR plan devised for the settlements in Yei River District was to follow a 'sectoral' approach. That is, one agency was to be contracted to carry out a specialized task in all settlements. The approach was aimed to ensure a standard assistance programme for all refugees in all settlements, to maximize the efficient use of the limited technical expertise available, or, as the programme officer put it, 'to spread the poverty evenly.'

ACROSS was contracted to organise the agricultural programme in all of the new settlements and to undertake the building programme. There was a budget for income-generating activities in each settlement and ACROSS was encouraged to take this work on board as well. As ACROSS was unable to recruit a suitable expatriate, this budget was not implemented.[20] Negotiations were going on with GMT with the aim that it should incorporate the health needs of the refugees into its overall scheme for Yei River District. SCC had organised clinics in the first settlements set up before 1982 and it was continuing to supply medicines and to maintain feeding programmes for the malnourished in Limbe and Tore. The programme officer initiated the first inter-agency meetings in Yei, but there were problems of agency competition from the outset.

In addition to the health programme, GMT wanted the contract for agriculture and building.[21] Having lost out to ACROSS, it employed agriculturalists to serve as advisers to women's 'nutrition' clubs which it organized in the settlements. Discovering that ACROSS had begun to build a clinic in one settlement, the head of GMT rushed around and got someone to begin the foundations for another in the same settlement. He then wrote to the UNHCR office in Khartoum to complain about ACROSS's wasteful duplication and competition.[22] SCC's role in medical services (other than always being willing to provide drugs from its own stores) was gradually eliminated. In 1983, however, as the numbers of refugees in planned settlements increased, the sectorial approach was defeated by the arrival of yet another agency with more powerful outside contacts.

In the Sudan this agency was called the Southern Sudan Rehabilitation Assistance Project (SSRAP). Its money came from the US Agency for International Development through an Episcopal church organization. In April 1982 SSRAP representatives had visited COMREF in Khartoum proposing to get involved in assisting refugees and Sudanese on the east bank of the Nile in the south. Its budget for the proposed programme was US$3.4 million. COMREF declined the offer.[23] In July a representative of SSRAP together with a local clergyman visited the UNHCR office in Juba. At this visit they proposed to work on the west bank, in Yei River District. Informing them of the sectoral policy, the programme officer advised that the best use of their resources would be to supplement the supplies of hoes, seeds, medicines, clothing, blankets, and even food which were never available in sufficient quantity for all the settlements. SSRAP was unwilling to work in this manner. Agencies require visibility.

In December, 1982 the newly-appointed head of the Juba UNHCR office radioed Yei to ask 'Who are these people?' SSRAP had arrived unannounced, bag and baggage, ready to work. When informed that the contracts had been all given out, SSRAP pointed out that its equipment was in transit from the US to the Sudan and its staff already in Khartoum. Later on the actions of the US embassy representative, who accompanied the head of SSRAP to Juba to help him get established, led UNHCR staff to wonder just who was in charge of the new agency.[24]

Pressure to incorporate another agency resulted in the scrapping of the sectoral policy in favour of handing over 'bits of territory' to different agencies. Responsibility for different settlements was given to Sudanaid, a Catholic indigenous agency, ACROSS, and SSRAP. Later on Sudanaid lost its contract, due, it was said, to incompetence, and was replaced by the Gesellschast sur Technische Zusammenarbeit (GTZ). Four settlements in the Kajo-Kaji sub-district were placed under COMREF's general project manager with a new project manager and staff appointed. This arrangement meant that in theory each agency must employ all the expertise required to administer all aspects of its settlement programme - agriculture, education, community development, income generation. Only the health services continued to fall under one agency, GMT. During 1982 its medical services had been given additional temporary support by an OXFAM emergency team; GMT also invited German Caritas to send medical staff for a few weeks, and later on, Medecins sans Frontieres began sending teams. In 1984 SSRAP appointed an environmental health specialist, but with the rise of hostilities in southern Sudan the GMT staff was evacuated. OXFAM withdrew from the health programme and sent a team to concentrate on shallow well protection.

In the scramble for contracts in 1983, SCC, according to the UNHCR correspondence, was actually forgotten. When SCC objected vociferously to UNHCR's playing favourites with the international agencies, to the neglect of Sudan's indigenous organizations, it was appeased by a contract to provide a special programme for the orphans and handicapped.

Refugee participation

During 1982 considerable effort was made to involve refugees in the administration of the programme. Agencies employed them and ACROSS's agricultural programme was entirely in the hands of a Ugandan agricultural officer and a team of qualified refugees. Similarly nearly all of the medical workers in settlements were Ugandan. Office personnel were similarly recruited from among the refugee community. The different agencies did not follow a standard salary policy and when the programme officer attempted to impose such a rule in order to reduce inter-agency competition for qualified staff, he was defeated by a directive to the contrary from UNHCR. More seriously, the agencies and UNHCR did not follow local salary guidelines. At one time a refugee typist was being paid a higher salary than was being paid to senior staff in COMREF. The creation of such imbalances was unnecessary and only heightened tensions between employed refugees and local officials.

As each settlement was opened in 1982, UNHCR employed a foreman who, together with an elected committee, was responsible for administering the settlement. Most of the foremen were Ugandans. These foremen were largely selected by the UNHCR programme officer on the basis of 'intuition', rather than on any particular formal qualifications. One had had management experience in a factory in Uganda, another had been a social worker and a teacher, another a primary school principal, some had been drivers, others were ex-airforce. Some proved exceptionally competent for their difficult task, others were dismal failures.[25]

Regular monthly meetings of the foremen and the committee chairmen were held in Yei; and to encourage the sharing of experiences, visits were made to different settlements. Occasionally Sudanese government officials were invited to attend these meetings as were agency staff. These meetings aimed to allow for an exchange of ideas as well as giving refugees a chance to present the problems of their settlements. Although they had no formal role in determining policy, the programme officer consulted privately with many refugees. He made the UNHCR office files available to them, as well as encouraging them to study the emergency handbooks which described policy. Later he persuaded his superiors to allow a refugee to be employed as UNHCR's agricultural co-ordinator. Again, it was his open-file, free-dissemination-of-information policy which encouraged the degree of trust which was established between the UNHCR office, local officials, and the refugees. The agencies did not happily follow his example. Even those professionally trained refugees who were employed to organise agriculture or income generating projects were not privy to such basic information as the limits of the budget.

In 1983 policy was changed. COMREF had finally appointed a general project manager in Juba and UNHCR began the process of 'handing over' the programme to Sudanese management. Sudanese were recruited to work as settlement officers replacing most of the Ugandan foremen. Most of these settlement officers were recruited from among the unemployed; only those few attracted away from the Ministry of Co-operatives and Community Development by the higher salaries had anything approximating appropriate training for the job of managing settlements. Most were young secondary school leavers. Preparation for their work was limited to a few days of orientation organized by UNHCR. Their task was made almost impossible by the fact that, owing to impassable roads from Kenya the World Food Programme supplies were abruptly interrupted between mid-July to the end of October 1983. Refugees - resenting the 'takeover' by the Sudanese - were convinced that the food shortages were caused by government corruption. In one settlement they threatened their officer with pangas. Many of the younger men were too frightened to remain in the settlements they had been employed to manage.

Becoming 'refugees'

There are several stages in the implementation of an emergency assistance programme. The decision to accept help from outsiders and move into a settlement is normally taken by the refugee himself. It is rare for host governments forcibly to move refugees to a settlement and, mindful of the interests of the donors, UNHCR does not normally go looking for refugees to assist. Usually a reception centre is established at a point of entry on the border when an influx has reached such a proportion that people are found congregated there. In March 1982, this happened at Kaya. Later on, three other reception centres had to be opened at other points along the border Kajo-Kaji, Livolo, and Nyori. People who entered were directed to the local chief who took note of their presence in his area. Once the border area was saturated, some chiefs advised people to go to reception centres. At times, however, local chiefs objected when self-settled refugees decided finally to register for settlement. At Nyori, for example, some refugees were actually arrested to prevent their departure. As will be suggested in Chapter Eight, there were advantages to hosting refugees in self-settled areas.

Throughout 1982-3 the reception centres were normally manned by refugees. They registered the names of the household head, assigned them to tents, and distributed rations on a daily or weekly basis. Most of the time blankets were in such short supply that those issued at the reception centres were withdrawn as refugees were loaded onto lorries bound for settlements. This practice certainly must have contributed to the spread of scabies and probably other diseases. As the numbers escalated and new sites could not be found quickly enough, refugees were deposited in hastily organized transit camps further inland.

It was in everyone's interest to move refugees out of reception centres as quickly as possible. Clean water was not available and it was not possible to cope with the sanitary requirements of hundreds of people concentrated in a small area. Medical services were non-existent and many people were seriously ill. For only brief intervals feeding programmes were set up for the severely malnourished. Large concentrations of refugees on a border invite security problems. At Kaya refugees were in sight of UNLA soldiers stationed at Oraba. The river marking the border was the source of water which both shared. Sudanese military were posted at Kajo-Kaji and Kaya. At places like Nyori and Livolo there was absolutely no protection. On one occasion in 1982, just half an hour after the programme officer and I had left Livolo, a Ugandan light aircraft circled the reception centre, photographing the refugees huddled below.

The most important and overriding reason for rushing refugees through the reception process and into settlements was the belief that the longer people remain idle, in a state of suspension, unable to do anything for themselves, the greater their tendency towards apathy. But the stories of the events which led up to the point when refugees decided to accept assistance give lie to the argument that African refugees are 'pulled' across borders by 'handouts' and for this reason must be coerced into taking responsibility for themselves.

As was shown in Table 1.8, only a fraction of those who first entered the Sudan before 1982 immediately registered to go to a settlement. Those who came in 1982-3 were those who had exhausted all possibilities of remaining in Uganda. They arrived to find not only no place to settle along the border, but many were in a physical or psychological condition which rendered them almost incapable of taking care of themselves.

Anzelo Boga described his nine-day journey to Sudan which began on 27 December 1982. He went straight to the reception centre at Panyume because, the 'Children were too sick such that if I delayed most of them should have died. But still one died here in the [Goli] transit.' From 1979 he, together with about 30 related families, had moved to a remote place to avoid the 'misconduct of the UNLA'. Eventually 'half of them joined the UPC for 'cover'. But one brother was captured and 'properly tortured - had his ears cut down.' Held at a military camp at Omogo, he witnessed the slaughter of 'an estimated 70' women and children. 'By luck the brother of ours - who had his ears cut - escaped and came to inform us about the horrible scene. We thought twice and decided to come to the Sudan.' But their exodus was delayed. They met 'bush fighters' who welcomed them, provided them some food and protected them for another long period. Further fighting pushed the group northwards towards Sudan.

On the way we met the soldiers again. We had a few of our property, 45 head of cattle. Our brother who had his ears cut was so powerless, he could not run fast enough because of the tortures he had received. He was recaptured and shot. Immediately we threw down our luggage and ran without anything. We had to carry the small children on our backs. On our way bombs followed us, many were victims as some of the bombs exploded either in front, behind, or sideways. Victims were left and we proceeded. Nobody almost cared for the other. Children were lost and in critical conditions, women even threw their children away so that they could escape.

Those people who registered for settlement at a reception centre after having been self-settled for a period of time, did so only because there was no land, or because they had reached the end of their tether. One woman who had seen her father killed by the UNLA and, on 26 December 1982, two other relatives burnt in a house at Odravu, describes what was the final straw which broke her determination to remain independent.

On arrival at the border my daughter died - malnutrition. l came alone to the Sudan. Caring for my children defeated me. The only way I survived was to go out early in the morning and work for other people in order to get money or food. It happened that one day as my daily routine, I went out to look for the day's bread. I left the children inside. At about 4:00 p.m. when I returned, I found that one of my children was just lying on the floor dead. It was May [1983]. I decided to come straight to the camp.

While refugees are able to retain their independence from the aid system, they are keenly aware that it is the host government which has provided asylum and that it is the local people and their officials who have made room for them. Although refugees must earn their food through hard labour (this piece work for local farmers is called leja-leja), he is earning it. More important, on entering the Sudan, one of the first necessities was for a refugee to acquire a local Sudanese patron. This might be an individual peasant household, or the chief, or even the local representative of the Sudan Socialist Union (SSU - the only recognised political party in Sudan at that time). When refugees become embroiled in disputes, and there are many, they are dependent upon their patron, and their wits, to cope within that local power structure.

It should not be surprising that once refugees move under the aid umbrella their perceptions and behaviour change. Numerous signals remind them that they are now being cared for by others. They are registered for assistance in a centre above which the UNHCR flag is flying. The sources of the food that they now eat are clearly marked on bags and tins. Even the colour of the vehicles in which they are transported inform them just who is now in charge of their salvation. They are told where to sleep, and with almost no advance notice, are ordered into a lorry and on a journey which may take many hours, taken to an unknown destination. They ride in the back of an open lorry which may include cows, goats, and chickens as well as up to 100 people. Even if they have clothes (and many adults were reduced to leaves to cover their nakedness), the last vestiges of dignity are threatened by the experiences of the travel from the border.[26] No water is provided on the way, and if one of them becomes ill, they are powerless to stop the lorry. They know not when or where they will eat again. Little wonder that refugees begin to refer to UNHCR as 'their mother and father'. But there is more in the symbolism than might have been construed by outsiders. Unlike a client's relationship with his patron, in the African context parents assume overwhelming authority: usually no decision is taken without consultation and approval. As UNHCR 'children', refugees have little choice but to completely surrender autonomy and freedom of action.

His view of his host, and his host's perceptions of the refugees, are also radically altered by the interventions of outsiders. As long as supplies last, and whether or not he needs all these items, each refugee household is kitted out with a cooking pot, brightly coloured plastic buckets and bowls (essentially useless, because they quickly break), cheap blankets, and rations. Much of the time the cereal supplied was rice, not a staple food for either Sudanese or Ugandans but one to which prestige is attached. In both countries rice is expensive and only eaten on special occasions. Powdered milk was also supplied, a commodity which before few would have afforded. All this material assistance comes from the outsider, and appears in stark contrast with the little offerings the impoverished host had been able to afford before the humanitarians came. Settlements were located in areas far distant from the border among Sudanese who only saw refugees after they were under the aid umbrella. They saw lorries groaning with these supplies moving towards the settlements. Little wonder that relationships became convoluted.

Many of the refugees appeared quickly to forget who were their hosts. One settlement put up painted signs announcing to all passersby that this was a 'UNHCR settlement'. At Kala a fight broke out after a Sudanese had knocked a child down while riding too fast through the settlement. When the police intervened, it was alleged that refugees denounced their authority; Kala was under UNHCR. When supplies ran short in settlements, refugees were convinced the Sudanese officials were diverting goods. Coming from a country which, by comparison with southern Sudan was wealthy and developed, Ugandans already felt superior to the local people. Now with Geneva as their patron, no longer clients of the poorer Sudanese, many Ugandans deserved the reputation they gained for arrogance as, usually over drinks, some even dared to express feelings of contempt. Refugees annoyed Sudanese officials when at public meetings they sang songs praising Geneva or the programme officer, 'Shoodie', as they called him. More than one settlement had a 'Geneva Jazz Band'.[27]

Once in a settlement all the problems arising between himself and the local population with which formerly the refugee had had to cope on his own were now expected, at least by some, to be mediated by expatriates (the parents). In the African context this would be a reasonable assumption. If one runs into trouble which ends up in a court case, no individual goes to court alone. He is accompanied by his relatives, most especially the elders, who must in the final analysis take ultimate responsibility for the consequences of his behaviour. (Harrell-Bond and Rijnsdorp 1975, and 1977; Harrell-Bond 1975a; 1975b; 1977; Harrell-Bond, et al. 1977:202-42.) At the same time refugees recognised and manipulated the power struggles which developed between agencies and government officials.

For some expatriates, the power to make arbitrary and discretionary decisions concerning the dispersal of funds and material aid among their clients was an irresistible temptation. For example, when there was no budget for the milk required by an infant whose mother had none (and lacking it, many starved to death at their mothers' dry breasts), a request from Goli settlement for money to buy batteries to run a disco appeared fairly bizarre. Knowing that the programme officer was likely to turn them down flatly, a group of young people went to a temporary UNHCR consultant who approved it. Such inconsistencies in approach produced anxiety and insecurity among refugees and increased the tendency for some to use deceit and manipulation to attain their objectives.

In fact the entire programme became dominated by the distribution of material aid. All relationships centred around its distribution, protecting it from theft or other 'irregularities' and most especially with getting it. Since the organization of the distribution is controlled by outsiders, it is hardly surprising that relationships between agency personnel and refugees are distorted. How can the 'hand' that feeds you tell you to feed yourself? One refugee whom I asked to read through letters from settlements in the files wrote the following note to the UNHCR office.

Arising from my study of the many letters from settlements to the UNHCR, I feel convinced that people from the camps expect and demand more than is within the limits of such organisations. Many of the demands are unreasonable and even ridiculous... Why do the settled refugees have this tendency? The answer seems to be that refugees consider themselves as sick people admitted to hospitals, too weak to get up (and in fact give up trying to get up). They consider themselves like children who need and must be given constant nagging even to stop their own tears. This may be so, but there must be a limit!

Although only a minority of refugees adopted such manners, they were the most visible and managed to create an atmosphere which encouraged the authoritarian response of the outsiders and contributed to the deterioration of relations between refugees and their hosts. Later, however, when supplies failed to come to the settlements and refugees had time to survey their situation more carefully, some of their early enthusiasm for 'Geneva' began to wear thin.

The 'planning' of settlements

Separating relief programmes from the ongoing administration of the development plans and administrative structure of a host government has enormous implications for the future of an area which is suddenly inundated with refugees. Although both hosts and agencies assume refugees to be a temporary phenomenon, experience in Africa proves this to be unrealistic. The international aid community is unprepared to maintain refugees on relief assistance for a protracted period of time. Thus refugees must become economically independent. This requires 'planning', but when the planning of refugee settlements is done in isolation by outsiders who lack the benefit of even such basic information as what are the ecological, economic, and social constraints of an area, the results are bound to be problematic.

A short bicycle ride away from the UNHCR compound in Yei was the establishment of the Project Development Unit. Funded by the British government, PDU was the Ministry of Agriculture and Natural Resources presence in the district. Over the years an enormous amount of information concerning Yei River District had been collected and a number of agricultural specialists, both Sudanese and British, were in residence there. Yet sites for settlements were selected and a uniform agricultural programme was devised and implemented with no reference to this reservoir of knowledge.

There was a certain logic behind settling leprosy sufferers at Mogiri and cattle owners at Mondikolo. Mogiri was directly adjacent to a Sudanese leprosy colony and further inland from Mondikolo cattle were threatened by tsetse fly. I do not know the reasons behind the selection of Tore and Limbe, but Kala was obviously chosen as a place for a settlement because no one else lived there. Several years earlier, because of the poor rainfall and infertile soil the Sudanese had abandoned it as a suitable place for habitation. During 1982-3 decisions about where to situate settlements were based on a combination of factors. None of these took into consideration the enormous ecological variety of Yei River District.

A first consideration was to find an uninhabited area large enough to lay out a settlement for 3000 people. Although outside of the main towns in Yei River District there was no other village of such a size; this number was thought to constitute a community large enough to be 'economically viable' and small enough to control. Assuming an average family size of five, it was estimated that in order to meet subsistence needs, each would require 10 feddans (10.5 acres). Thus, in addition to the space required for the settlement itself, each would require 25.5 square kilometres of empty, cultivatable land surrounding it. (Land 1981.) One of the conditions of accepting UNHCR's assistance was the Sudan government's commitment to provide land for refugees. Since formally the central government had control over all unused land, once a site was found, it was the duty of the local officials to hand it over to UNHCR. This overlooked the fact that contemporary land law was imposed upon local communities and that probably some group or individual claims 'traditional' rights over every inch of the African continent. Officials could and did override these customary claims, but sooner or later nearly every refugee was to meet the 'real' owner of his land. In relation to the central government a local peasant is nearly as powerless as the refugees. Faced with the usurping of their rights, should it be surprising to find that many Sudanese reacted?

It is not unusual for Africans to hand over rights to unused land to strangers but only after certain ceremonial procedures are observed. At a minimum the stranger must establish a personal relationship with the owner. This may be initiated by presenting the owner with a gift - some food, a goat, or possibly a token amount of money. And this relationship must be maintained by the client - you must be a friend of the owner of your land. Self-settled refugees had no choice but to follow these prescriptions and given the extreme poverty of refugees, many Sudanese waived the obligation to exchange material substance, at least until the refugee had produced a crop. The advantage of this system is that it permits the refugees limited, but specific rights within his new community.

In the early period of the emergency in 1982 UNHCR staff scanned maps of the area. Once they had identified an open place, they expected the 'A' commissioner, the local official responsible for taking this decision on behalf of central government, to approve it. UNHCR was not concerned with his administrative relationships with local chiefs and people. The Yei UNHCR office became acquainted with the local institution of chieftaincy only through bitter experience. (Harrell-Bond 1982, Pt. II.) Later, however, when chiefs began to hear that there were possible benefits of having a settlement in their area since the services - schools, clinics, and wells (not to mention roads and bridges which might get built) - were to be shared with their people, some came forward with offers of land.

Through trial and error, the programme officer learned that it was not only vital for him to have the government's approval of a site, but that it was equally important to meet with chiefs, elders, and as many local people as possible. As a result, the site for Otogo settlement was selected under more sensible conditions. (ibid.) Several times the programme officer and I met with members of this community. We hacked our way through high grass to inspect fresh water springs reported to be there. As a group, agency representatives, a Sudanese education official, and refugees visited the site. We arrived at the close of Sunday services and frankly discussed with the congregation the possible implications for this minute community of receiving 3000 strangers. As Kakwa speakers, they were reminded that the newcomers were mainly Lugbara and Madi (but ethnic differences as such were never a significant variable). With the sub-chief's son, our delegation trekked several kilometres into the bush and sat down at the place the settlement office would be built. The refugees in the group began to raise the most relevant questions concerning agriculture.[28] We called on the one household situated within the area selected for the refugees, to check out whether they were prepared either to move or to accept so many close new neighbours.

Back at the church, the programme officer asked if the building (a roof only) and the school could be used as a temporary shelter to accommodate the first arrivals until more tents could be found and while a road was being dug to the site. The people were reluctant; they had just dug two new latrines which were insufficient for large numbers. The programme officer promised to pay for more to be dug and to give employment to locals to make the road. Later, as refugees began arriving in the lorries, the ancient, tottering subchief used to make the great physical effort to visit. When we had difficulties with certain drunken characters who insisted on looking on as the refugees struggled, sick and nearly naked, out of the lorries, the old chief exerted his authority to remove these nuisances.

A Ugandan, a former social worker, teacher, and preacher, was brought from Mopoko to serve as foreman, to meet and to indoctrinate the refugees on the objectives of the settlement: to become self-sufficient as quickly as possible. At a meeting two months after Mopoko had opened, he stood up to complain about the lack of hoes. As he explained, he had only come to a settlement because his hoe had worn out. Just after crossing the border Father Felix, a Catholic priest from Yei, had given him one. This hoe had allowed himself and his family to survive for a year. On the basis of his 'ode to the hoe', I suggested he might be a suitable person to spur refugees towards economic independence. [29] Very early in the life of Otogo, a group of refugees formed a Red Cross Society. One of their first activities was to build a house for a local handicapped Sudanese.

But we still made at least one serious mistake in relation to local sensitivities. Otogo, the name we selected for the settlement, was the name of the beautiful mountain which rose up out of this plain directly behind the site. Later we discovered the place already had a name ! Complaints from the chief, the 'A' commissioner, and the education officer began to arrive on the programme officer's desk. Despite all, Otogo has been retained as its name.

Settlements not only needed enough space for agriculture, it was also vital that there was a supply of surface water as UNHCR had no well-digging equipment. In 1982 UNHCR relied on an American who had set up a local business. However, his equipment was inadequate to bore deeply enough and when the rains stopped, his wells dried up. Later, to help out in this crisis, Norwegian Church Aid sent a drilling rig. Adequate equipment did not arrive until 1983. Long squabbles between UNHCR and the Juba government further delayed the programme. An official tried to get control over the rig, insisting that the demands of his own people for clean water in his own region should have priority. Finally, in mid-1983 UNHCR sent a consultant to oversee welldigging and pump repair for the district, but the results of this inordinate delay showed up in the disease patterns in settlements. (Wright in Wilson et al. 1985.)

The lay-out of the settlements

Despite the UNHCR Handbook's admonitions against establishing camps and its recommendations that a site should reflect a 'decentralised, small community approach, preserving past social arrangements as far as possible' (1983:57), settlements were laid out on a grid pattern. Surveyors were employed to measure out household plots in blocks of 25 plots. Later, when land problems with the locals began to arise, the plot size was increased to a 50 metre square. Each block was to accommodate 24 families, with one plot, number 13, to be preserved for communal purposes. An area in the centre of the settlement was allocated for the 'office' and stores, and spaces were set aside for religious buildings, the school, the clinic, and for the 'commercial' sector.

Households were assigned to plots as they came off the lorries. In Morsak this policy of 'first come, first served', found a severely crippled young man inhabiting a plot at the furthest end of the settlement. He had to cross over a small stream on a log bridge to get to the office for his rations, or to the clinic when he became seriously ill.

In the transfer of people from reception centres at the border to settlements, no effort was made either to promote, or to discourage settlement according to ethnicity. In the hopes that they would find medical services and feeding programmes established at the new site, foremen at reception centres usually sent the most seriously ill and malnourished first; sometimes these services were available, more often not. As a result, the first blocks of a new settlement were usually peopled by the most vulnerable. This appeared to be the only systematic influence on what was otherwise a random distribution. But, as was shown in Chapter One, certain groups moved together from Uganda and this meant that certain settlements were predominantly of one or another linguistic group.

Normally refugees themselves determined the composition of their households. One of the 'problems' which UNHCR tried to control were the 'floaters', people who attempted to register in a different settlement from the one to which they were first assigned. It was presumed their motive was to register in a new place to cash in on another distribution of buckets, blankets, tools, etc. In retrospect much of this movement may have been an attempt to find lost relatives; in 1984 a woman reported having been separated from her family since 1982, simply because the lorry in which she travelled to Roronyo settlement was full. Months later she discovered where the rest of her household had been settled. Still, two years later they had not been able to join each other in either settlement.

Once a self-settled household took the decision to move to a settlement it was common to send one able-bodied person ahead, (usually a young man) to examine the situation and prepare for the others. After he had built a house, the family was collected. During most of 1982, the programme officer accommodated family reunions by allowing people to travel back to the border in UNHCR lorries. This was obviously essential since only they could locate their relatives in the bush. Anxious lest Sudan should be seen to be harbouring Uganda's opposition, officials accused UNHCR of transporting guerrillas back and forth to the border to fight. But there never was a base in the Sudan and this was the period in which most of those who had been involved in opposing the UNLA became disillusioned and had withdrawn from active duty. To continue to facilitate family reunions the programme officer obtained permission to send just two individuals from each settlement to trek through the border area with a list of the relatives that the others wanted to join them. To some extent this method was effective, but in 1984 some still complained that their relatives had not been located.

On arrival at a settlement refugees were expected to begin construction immediately. So long as UNHCR's stock was sufficient, and regardless of the size of the family, each plot was supplied with one tent. A plot was 'complete' when it had a tukul (a mud house), a kitchen (a roof to protect the fire), a latrine, a drying table for storing cooking utensils between meals, and a rubbish dump. Refugees were told where on the plot to locate their house and their latrine. 'Incentives' (i.e. money) were promised to those who finished constructing all of these items.

Administration of the settlements

Earlier in 1982, while two temporary consultants were in charge of opening settlements, they arbitrarily selected leaders to be responsible (with the foreman) for the distribution of food rations in each block. This system of administration proved unworkable with accusations of corruption and mismanagement coming from every quarter. As a result the programme officer imposed democracy. He required each block to elect a leader, as soon as all of its 24 households had arrived. Of course, at first most people did not even know each other, but at least there was the sense that the block leader was answerable to them. The problem was that these first positions were temporary, and no date was set for new elections. With no 'constitutional' arrangements, settlers were simply expected to follow directives issued from the UNHCR office in response to each new problem which arose. The system, as it evolved, provided for holding annual elections in each settlement. Each block was to have a leader, an assistant, a secretary, and representatives to serve on the productivity, health, dispute and education committees. Following the pattern I had observed among the Saharawi in Algeria I must admit to having had a hand in this arrangement (Harrell-Bond 1981.)

At first the programme officer insisted that all block leaders speak English. Together they formed the settlement committee and out of their number they were to elect a settlement chairman, vice- chairman, and secretary. (Since refugees were not allowed to handle the budget for a settlement, there was no need for a treasurer.) Guidelines for elections were circulated - filled with advice on how to choose candidates with such qualities as willingness to serve their community with commitment and equity and, most important, without financial or material reward. The administrative structure was designed to provide a direct channel of communication with each refugee family. Records (household census forms) were to be kept by the foreman and block leaders were expected to keep records of all distributions of aid in their blocks. The store and all files were to be open to all refugees during specified office hours for their examination to ensure an equitable distribution. Forms were drawn up for registering births and deaths, but, as was found in 1983, no records of health, mortality, or birth were properly maintained. It was believed that this numbered plot and block system, by providing each refugee with an 'address', would encourage them to identify with their community. Block leaders were expected to encourage a sense of mutual responsibility among households on their blocks, for example, by building houses for the many unable to do so for themselves. Imposing our values, to counter what we believed was the tendency of refugees to reject their social responsibilities, as we saw them, was an uphill struggle.[30]

Paid employees in each settlement included, in addition to the foreman, a storeman, surveyors (until the settlement was filled up), and watchmen to protect the store from theft. Except for the foreman, these salaried staff were phased out once the settlement was full. Refugees were expected to take over work on a volunteer basis. Settlements also had paid medical workers, teachers, and agricultural staff appointed by the agencies responsible for these programmes. In a few settlements SCC had appointed (and paid) social workers, but lacked funds to extend these services. During 1982 other settlements relied on volunteer social workers. Later community development workers were appointed and paid.

The budget for each settlement included a sum to pay primary teachers. There was also money to pay people to make the roads and pathways within the settlements and I have already mentioned the incentives promised to all who completed the construction work in their plots. Salaries and other payments were in clear contradiction to the philosophy of self-help. And there were great differences in the policies of different agencies. For example, at Limbe, social workers employed by SCC were trying to get a community centre built by voluntary labour. Someone came along and told them it was a waste of time since soon ACROSS would be building a permanent building and would pay them to do it. As UNHCR had set itself up as a source of money, it is not surprising that refugees demanded to be paid for all work, such as off-loading their own food, assisting in the supplementary feeding of their own children, and once even for digging the programme officer's vehicle out of the mud.

Building schools for the refugees also contravened Sudan's policy. As noted, local people must first build a school before the government pays teachers. Many Sudanese students were taught by 'volunteers', some earning as little as £S5 per month, with the pupils spending much of their time cultivating for the teacher. In contrast settlement teachers were each being paid £S50 per month.

On arrival in YRD in 1982 the first settlement I visited was Limbe. While the UNHCR programme officer was inside a hut paying the primary teachers, I waited outside talking with the volunteer teachers who had started an intermediate school. These volunteers explained that they believed it was also important to provide older children with education, but that it was not UNHCR's policy to support other than primary schools. We discussed the problem of salaries. Before UNHCR had begun to pay teachers, refugees had begun schools themselves and had taught the children under the trees. The moment that salaries became available, the volunteer teachers often found themselves pushed out of their work. There was no system of vetting qualifications and so it was easy to convince the UNHCR staff that so-and-so had no certificate to teach. With the UNHCR budget insufficient to employ enough teachers for all primary-aged children, there was severe competition for all salaried positions; nepotism, not merit, was too often the basis for getting a job as a teacher. (Later the Sudan government took responsibility for vetting qualifications and the situation improved.)

Other problems resulted from the creation of a group of relatively 'fat cats' among a community with no money. One refugee described the problem:

... salaries in the camps has brought a great evil... the teachers themselves are developing a kind of superiority over the rest of the community. That they have money has caused them to misbehave. I remember before Kala was first given a regular supply of food. The teachers had food and they felt good although the other people in their community were desperately looking for food or other means to survive (mainly by working for local Sudanese). There was an occasion when UNHCR brought some food to the camp to share. Though other refugees were not employed and had no means to get regular money, a few had a little... one teacher came and wanted to buy the whole sack of cassava because he had enough money. He knew the food supply was to be kept in stock, but he had money so he wanted the whole sack so that his own family would not starve. He forgot that others who came with their little money wanted their own share. The consequence was the refugees standing around started to challenge that teacher. It was almost to the point of fighting and it might have been bad. If people who were sensible hadn't taken the initiative, he was going to be beaten. Another teacher spent his salary on drink. The wife came and complained that he spent most of his time teaching and when money came, he mismanaged it ... It should have been used on the field.

Volunteer teachers themselves recognised the long-term danger of dependence on UNHCR funds.

... we should all do the work voluntarily. In fact this should apply to all sectors of our social development mad health centres. Because, in the long run . .. if the UNHCR will not [be here] to pay and we don't get a penny to pay these people, where shall we be? Who will take up the work? Who will pay the teachers?... It will also apply to the medical system. Now he is being paid, but when UNHCR will not be able to pay these men, we are going to have to pay ... Are we going to allow this sort of way, this system. No. To me I am thinking that it would be good for all the settlements to cut down this sort of payment so that all the work is done voluntarily. I would say that aid should not be given directly as payments to individuals, but as in the case of teachers, to the education committee so that it can give each teacher £S10 or £S20 a month. Then the money will last longer and by then we should be fully self-sufficient and be able to pay them from our own pocket.

The discussion went on to consider the need for the community to organize itself, to farm for the teachers who could not grow their own food while teaching. An example was given of a laboratory technician who was sacked 'because of his professional career in the past' (he had been a guerrilla fighter).

... this guy could look in a microscope to see the worms inside you. The medical assistant, who has no time to see that [and who was usually untrained] could then prescribe the right drug for you. This man was just sitting there, but because he was now not paid a salary, he did not make the tests. He didn't refuse, he was stopped by the government or something .... The community came together and said 'What shall we do for this man?' They agreed to pay him an extra amount of their food rations if he sat in the lab. The community tried to do something, and the last time I was in Kala, he was helping to see what the parasites were.

Another refugee spoke:

Well, again, taking reference to our mother country, Uganda, I remember I have learned one very good lesson from those who are fighting in the bush ... They were not paid either in money or in cattle. However, in cases of emergency, they demanded something. I am sure that if that method was used in the camps, it would be very good. The bush operation in Uganda was on a voluntary basis and it worked perfectly.

As a result of hearing of such discussions, the programme officer decided to introduce a new policy in new settlements. He informed teachers of the budget for education, and placed the responsibility for it in the hands of a school management committee. He suggested that they employ enough teachers for the numbers of children, retaining 20 per cent to buy supplies of paper, pens and other equipment which was always in short supply. Teachers were, he recommended, to be paid an 'incentive', enough for them to employ men to dig their fields, and not salaries. In a paper for the 1982 Khartoum conference (Harrell-Bond et al. 1982), we reported on this experiment.

Despite the emphasis it placed on education policy falling in line with that of the Sudan government, and the warning of the salary bill Sudan would inherit when the assistance programme was withdrawn, it was the Sudanese acting project manager who most objected and it was eventually defeated.

Keeping refugees in line

In the efforts to forge these haphazard collections of people into a 'community', the foreman (later the Sudanese settlement officer) had the most demanding role. A first and most important activity was to get the refugees busy building a secure store to keep the food and other items not yet distributed under lock and key. He was expected to meet new arrivals, register them, assign them a plot, issue them with their emergency kit of supplies, supervise food distribution and the work of all of the employed staff. He was expected to hold regular meetings with the committee and with the whole population and, as UNHCR's representative on the spot, to report directly to the programme officer. The programme officer also expected the foreman to monitor the work of the agencies which included the building programme to erect the school, clinic, office, and a permanent store which eventually got under way.

A very demanding monthly reporting system was introduced. It was to include: population figures for each block broken down by sex and age groups; a list of new arrivals in the settlement and where they came from; details of refugees who had 'definitely' departed from the settlement, why they had left and where they were going; the numbers of births, deaths, and their causes. Foremen were also to report on the quantity of food distributed to each block, with a breakdown of different food items; the amount of food and other items in the store on the first and fifteenth of the month; how many tools and other household items had been distributed during the month to each block; a list of all food items received including donations from the organisations; and irregularities which had been observed during the distribution.

Foremen were also to keep attendance sheets for the teachers and the staff employed by the agencies. It was recommended that the foreman insist that these time sheets were signed by the employees. In addition, the foreman was required to ensure that services were opened on time and kept open to schedule. He was also to provide a report on the number of patients treated by the health services, a breakdown of the diseases diagnosed, kinds of medicines distributed, numbers of patients referred, the reasons for referral and where they had been referred; details of any visits of GMT monitoring staff, the main problems the medical staff were facing; and the foreman's overall impression of how well the medical services were functioning.

The agricultural advisor was instructed to keep a journal of his activities and the foreman's monthly report was to include information on the following: acres under cultivation, number of crops grown, description of crop, condition of livestock and poultry, marketing possibilities in and outside the settlements; the main problems faced; and the time of any visits of monitoring staff. Again the foreman was expected to give his overall impressions of how the agricultural services were functioning.

Similar reporting was expected on the work of the community development and social welfare programmes in the settlements. From the social worker's journal the foreman should report on the progress of integrated projects (i.e. involving local people); describe the situation of the handicapped, orphans, widows, and old people with statistics on these groups; details of visits of monitoring staff with dates; and to give a general overall impression of how well these services were functioning. Teachers were also to submit their reports to the foreman to be forwarded to UNHCR and the project management office, as was the school management committee, which had to account for expenditures.

The monthly report was also to include information concerning security: the number of crimes observed and their nature; what steps had been taken in each case; lists of all those imprisoned (including the starting date of detention, accusation, court hearings, judgement and the name of the presiding official). Under this heading, security, the foreman was asked to give a general evaluation of the relationships between the settlers and the local people, the number and nature of meetings between himself and/or the settlement chairman with local officials.

The foreman was also expected to report on the progress of the construction programme: the number of finished pit latrines per block, the number of finished staff houses and other temporary buildings such as the store, workshops, etc., and the progress towards constructing the permanent buildings.

Finally, our exhausted foreman was asked to list any changes in personnel among block leaders or committees and how many meetings were held and what was discussed. And, if he had any particular problems, he was to describe them as well, including any other miscellaneous information he regarded as urgent. Unfortunately, even if foremen had been capable or had the time to complete the gathering of all of this information each month, there was another obstacle. The medical workers who had been employed by GMT did not feel responsible to the settlement administration and often refused outright to give information to the foreman. However, there was an attempt to follow the format for reporting and as a result as far as statistics on population were concerned the survey confirmed that UNHCR had fairly accurate records.

The best laid plans of mice and men

Having seen the programme from the perspective of the interveners in 1982, I also got an opportunity to live for a few weeks in a settlement. Things had gone badly at Goli. The settlement had opened in May 1982 and by September it had a reported population of 5000. The administration had been left in the hands of the settlement committee, as the foreman (a Sudanese) had been regularly called away to help start up new settlements. No election had ever been held (the UNHCR consultants had simply appointed block leaders), and reports (sometimes daily) indicated that much of the material aid was being distributed 'irregularly'. In fact the first week it opened 14 refugees had been detained for breaking into the store. Finally the foreman was returned to his post and was instructed to hold democratic elections. Almost immediately, reports came that there was more serious trouble. The programme officer and I made a visit to Goli.

It emerged that despite the fact the guidelines for elections had been laid down, and that there were no special rewards of office other than those which arise from serving others, a bitter struggle over position had developed. Political campaigning had gone on in the mosque (Muslims were in the minority). The authority of the foreman had been insufficient to maintain the principles of democracy.

The programme officer simply cancelled these elections and ordered a complete recount of the settlement. He then instructed me to stay and supervise the census and conduct new elections, block by block. I wrote my report to the programme officer in the form of a letter from Goli, and it is included as an addendum to this chapter.

Addendum

Despite some of the confessed 'paternalism', the following letter perhaps illustrates the belief that the objectives of the programme could be achieved through our interventions. Living at the receiving end of the programme at least had the effect of helping me to begin to question most assumptions concerning how best to assist refugees.

25 September 1982

Dear Sjoerd,

Raphael [the foreman] and I will try to report on our findings here, but I am writing now as he is finishing the re-registration. I will just give you my impressions in a disorganised manner. You may share any of this at the foreman's meeting. Some of it may be so self-evident that it is trivial.

Refugees are suffering acutely from the consequences of the total disruption of 'normal' life. Families have been broken, all the norms of social interaction have been challenged by war, flight, hunger and disease. Survival has become the supreme motive for all actions. The social/psychological consequences are far-reaching. Their correction, in my view - and I know you agree - begins with a very tight administrative system and leaders who manifest sufficient strictness and discipline in their own behaviour to give a beginning sense of security and stability. The role of the foreman in all of this is absolutely crucial. All the problems here in Goli were exacerbated by his absence. Individuals' sense of identity and belonging have been destroyed so that all the sources of identification (religion, ethnicity, family) are at war with one another. None is strong enough to overcome the other because of the distrust of all.

People's confidence in the military has been shattered by the behaviour of government troops and guerrillas. The turmoil in Uganda has meant that every level of social organization from the family to religion to government has been injected with betrayal. People trust no one. For example, you may not know it, but one refugee took an exploratory trip to Arua and came back to Goli after deciding it was not safe enough to remain permanently. He had left his family behind. Now, everyone thinks he is a spy for Obote. At nearly every meeting, someone brings up the matter that they are sure that they are being watched by others loyal to the UPC. The fact that trading still goes on from inside Uganda is further fuel for their over-ripe imaginations. Lots of the single men are ex-fighters. For those still loyal to the resistance, these men are traitors for leaving the bush war. For others, the presence of these ex-fighters is a cause of resentment since, as we both know, some guerrillas were no angels as far as the civilians were concerned. The only way to assist them is to provide leaders who represent stability, absolute honesty, and openness - all coupled with strictness and order. How do we do this in the mess we found in Goli (probably typical of every settlement started before Otogo)? Well, I can only report on what has occurred and time will judge the effects.

We began, as you instructed by cancelling the elections and starting all over from block to block. In each block, all members were asked to be present. They were informed that allocation of food rations was to be based on their physical presence at the count. About four or five people helped (including those who came to the student workshop).[31] Registration forms were held by me, each plot was called, one household at a time. We learned as we went along. Children were required to say their own names out loud when old enough, or not deaf. (There are a lot of deaf children in Goli). At first, when someone was reported sick, one of the team went to check on the number of 'bodies' in the house. By the time we got to block 12, so many claimed illness as an excuse for absentees we thought there was a bloody epidemic! When we asked the medical worker to check on this, we discovered that people were pretending to be sick to inflate numbers!! Too late, we demanded all appear in person unless 'dying'! (Even these were checked and they had to respond with their own name.)

Raphael and I suggest the following rule: registration books should only be kept by the foreman. No other persons should be allowed to see them. Why? Because we found heads of households could remember the numbers they had registered on arrival, but they forgot the names (because the composition of their household has changed for one reason or another - legitimate or otherwise). We found many new arrivals had not been registered and many people had 'floated' out. People, particularly children are 'borrowed' from other households to inflate the numbers up to the number recorded on arrival. (Names must be written down accurately and people should be asked to give the correct name on the form to get the food distribution count).[32] We gradually learned to be ruthlessly strict. Co-operation with the census and elections was imposed with the threat of food withdrawal for October[!]

At the beginning, people thought the exercise was a joke. We retained a very strict and then, even more strict manner, always explaining why accuracy was necessary. We explained that World Food Programme (WFP) checked our records; one reason why they don't get enough food is that WFP assumed that all refugees cheat. But all refugees don't cheat, and the honest suffer. People who are honest but keep quiet while others cheat are equally culpable.

Raphael became an expert at recognising faces and those which appeared a second time in the census were publicly humiliated. We kept asking them why they, or their leaders, allowed one person to jeopardise the food supply of all. In some blocks, the leaders were so patently corrupt that we did not permit them to stand for election. [Democracy?]

Voters (all over 16) were counted and advice was given on the kind of leader required for the block. Plot 13 was used for all this activity (although it had never been used before as a communal plot). We sat in the sun, amidst shit and rubble and - in some cases - vegetables, but kept reminding them of the purpose of plot 13 ! We suggest the rule be made that all meetings, all food distribution, must take place in the communal plot and that no block leader be allowed to hold any meetings in his own compound. If this were strictly followed, most of the suspicions of mismanagement, favouritism etc. would disappear.

Before the block census I always made a little introductory speech and told how the households would be called, one by one. People were asked to stand up in a line. I asked the children to instruct their elders what a line was and also pointed out to them that plot 13 was supposed to be their place to play, but the grown-ups were too lazy to clear it. I made another joke with the children, pointing out how they must take responsibility for calling out their own name as many of their parents had apparently forgotten them (reference to the common practice of borrowing kids to fill up the numbers)! This produced considerable sheepish laughter. I tried to encourage the people in a block - where it did not already exist - to feel like a group and, throughout the census and elections, this was encouraged (negatively) as they usually were a group 'under attack'!

It is remarkable how some families have reared self-confident children, and then there are others whose poor little kids did not know what lie to tell regarding their name and age. And this variation did not 'correlate' with the existence of a 'normal' family - some of the 'child-headed' families were the most in order. Each time a line was disorderly, or a name not correct, we made sure that everyone in the block was aware of it. We used shame a lot....

We were enormously encouraged when we found two blocks where everything was in perfect order. Although both suffered the full range of social problems widows, orphans, the handicapped, etc. - the feeling among them was familial and friendly. All the houses for the vulnerable groups had been completed by the other block members. There was a sense of pride and order and, perhaps one could say (although strange under these conditions), a sense of contentment. A great deal depends on the block leader to bring about such co-operation in these early months of a settlement and, obviously, getting the right person is a matter of chance.

As you will see, our final count is considerably fewer than had been reported - by 500 ! There are probably 500 others counted who do not belong here. These were ostensibly at 'Tore hospital', 'Mopoko' visiting the 'ill' or in Yei or Kaya, and were struck off on the first round. Re-registration will allow the genuine cases time to reappear and many empty plots and houses have been identified (13). While in the programme we have endeavoured to give refugees the maximum amount of freedom of movement, I wonder if perhaps we've erred. We found families of tiny children with the adults supposedly 'in Kaya'. Mothers also often completely absent themselves, having deserted their kids apparently for another man elsewhere. I don't think it is any favour to encourage this kind of irresponsibility. The system of writing passes for travel means work for the foreman, but until some order is reconstituted it is wise (I think) to provide enough restraints to check this incredible floating around and the abandoning of families of young children. If people are genuinely referred elsewhere for medical care, a record should be kept in the office - some kind of 'in and out' check list so that people start learning that they are important enough to be accounted for in their settlement. There is an entrenched African tradition of sending children here and there for duties such as to care for elders and the like. This doesn't need to be a problem; such exchanges could be genuinely made, but somebody should know about it. Many block leaders were completely unacquainted with the other 23 families and were apparently surprised by their absence. They have not been impressed before with the seriousness and importance of their role. They fail to report new arrivals, departures, etc.

In each block, the assistant leader was elected separately from the leader. Committees were also elected: productivity, health and education. At least two persons were in each, but there were sometimes three who were voted in to serve. The education committee was elected with the idea that the members would teach literacy to the blocks. I will say more about this later, but there was a bloody social revolution going on in Goli between those who could speak (and read and write) English and those who could not. This decision of mine to emphasise literacy was taken 'on the spot' and we will see how it works.

All the first election problems centred around the 'educated' and 'illiterate' factions, which usually also correlated with Christian and Muslim factions. There was one famous meeting they won't stop talking about, where only English was spoken. At first I made a big mistake and accused the educated of being elitist and causing divisions. (But I felt damned guilty, because we always expect to conduct our meetings with block leaders in English, and wasn't it a requirement to be a block leader at one point?) Then I discovered there were a lot of so-called illiterates who were crooks and that some of the most concerned people, like the headmaster and the leaders of the two good blocks, were trying to clean things up. Raphael admits he also misjudged things. Because he also does not have much formal education, he found himself also siding with the supposed 'underdogs'.

I must say even cynical me was quite exhilarated when the 'illiterates' began demanding that the UNHCR kick everyone who could speak English out of the settlement and was very amused when one teacher told me he was scared to come out of his house after all the trouble. But nothing, tell the radical chics of this world, is ever that simple ! That's why I decided that if literacy was a factor, they should bridge the gap by teaching it. And, later, when the real situation was more clear, I asked why they didn't teach conversational English. Teachers complain about no equipment, but you don't need books for that! Oh yes, new proposed rule: all meetings must be translated into all languages spoken. It's very sad how little information must have filtered through. I met an old woman who had never heard of a tracing service; she knows exactly where on the border her husband is. At the women's meeting today she said, 'You get a backache if you stay a long time without a man'.

Here is what I did. I asked, in each block, how many could not read and write. People were often embarrassed about responding, but I pushed them (since I knew how angry everyone was vis-a-vis the English speakers). I then went on to point out how Uganda has a famous university, many secondary schools, etc. 'How is it so many did not even learn to read and write? Something must be wrong in Uganda.' They laughed. l also pointed out how most of the older people had paid the school fees to educate young people and how everybody had paid taxes to build the schools. I said out loud what they know all too well, that the educated refer to them as 'illiterates' and it 'ain't a nice word' ... especially since the only difference between them and the educated was that they had no opportunity to go to school. Then I asked how would they like to learn to read and write? The response was impressive and very moving. The range of ages of those who have no formal education is very wide. I explained how literacy teaching could be begun without money and without books and pencils and demonstrated how the letters could be learned using a stick in the dirt. (I am no expert in this field, I hope I won't be hauled over the coals for setting up totally unrealistic expectations.) But, I was saved a bit when I met the new education committees. One of the refugees had two copies of a functional literacy book for teachers and one woman, who doesn't speak a word of English, has taught functional literacy in Lugbara. When the committees met with the teachers yesterday, they decided first to run a course on how to teach literacy. I wish I were around to watch what is going to happen but now the enthusiasm is beautiful to behold. I gave them money for exercise books and pens. I've promised Goli a 'literacy award'. Since I didn't know what to do about rules for winning, I have left that to the headmaster. I suggested that I buy them a radio, but once again, my lack of awareness of their real needs was exposed. They suggested that a bicycle would be much better, pointing to all their vegetables which are not getting to market because of lack of transport.[33]

The health committees met with Peter Otuma [the agency-employed Ugandan nurse]. I didn't attend the meeting because my presence slowed everything down, with them translating everything for me. But I have the minutes of the meeting and attach them.[34]

Back to re-registration - we have decided to be absolutely firm about numbers after we finish, because already - within hours of completing it - people are starting to turn up with stories about why they were not there. Block leaders will be advised during the next month to keep a list of names themselves for a check against this moving in and out. It should be noted for other settlements that go through this process, that when we re-registered, all the block leaders came along to learn about problems and to look out for 'floaters' from within the settlement. We wished we'd had them come on the first round. It is necessary to make two rounds, as although many blocks initially claimed as many as 50 'new arrivals', on the second go, these numbers were radically reduced.

As long as this terrible dependence on food aid continues, it seems important to maintain this authoritarian and strict approach. One little lapse and the numbers of the dishonest increase. In one block a child appeared for at least the third time. He actually belonged in block 1. I took a stick and whacked him myself ! I asked the people why I should come all the way from England to correct their children; none of them had come to help me correct mine! (I would have liked to have given the woman who was claiming the child as hers just to get the pathetic little food ration a good whack too, but the flimsy stick broke on the kid !) Later, back in block 1, where the child lived, I scolded his father and his two wives for parental negligence and advised the father to discipline the child himself. Another boy was repeatedly showing up in family queues. I lost track of faces, but luckily for Raphael and me and the team, we could remember the eccentric-looking used clothes they wear! Repeatedly the message was given - disorder and indiscipline are the problems you ran from. Why did you bring them all here ? Cheating on food or in elections in Goli is no different from the crimes you accuse Obote's government of committing.

But, even with all this striving towards accuracy, we continued to make mistakes. For example, in the re-registration, we let the block leaders help the team fill out the forms. In the end we found some missing and duplicates with different numbers for particular plots. So, following this to its logical conclusion, block leaders are not to be depended upon either. No system of control imposed on refugees without their prior understanding and agreement is ever going to work. They must have their own leaders, but I kept looking for them in Goli, and there were all too few who were willing to be responsible.[35]

Block leaders are also in desperate need of instruction on record-keeping. All our naive efforts to make sure there were records and that they were open for all to see is subverted by lack of paper, pens, shelves, chairs, etc., etc. I cannot keep my notebook clean in this situation: how can they be expected to keep records? I keep thinking of the money it costs UNHCR to charter a plane. It's $6000 isn't it? Wouldn't one trip pay for stationery supplies for all the settlements?

But one encouraging sign that not all our efforts are wasted. Someone has just turned up to report on a family of six who have a plot in Goli and also one in Mopoko! The head of the family was smart enough to be here for registration, but, oops, he missed food distribution today because it wasn't announced in time. The block leader wants to know what will be done with the food rations (for six people)!

On food distribution - I witnessed it today, and I must say I was horrified. No information has ever been available to the public on amounts due to them. We posted the contents of the WFP 'food basket' in English and Lugbara. Great interest was shown ! Today, there was not enough oil for the settlement, according to the ration, and it came in two forms - solid and liquid - and in litres and pounds ! I was amazed at the mathematical dexterity of the block leaders as they tried to figure out the ration. (But in Raphael's absence, they had simply been dividing the amounts according to the numbers of blocks. This despite the rather significant difference in block populations. No wonder the interest in inflating numbers in the smaller blocks to 'look equal'.)

How do you divide up pounds and litres of solids and liquids? I had no calculator but I defy anyone to manage this properly without one, or a scale, or containers to carry the stuff away. In the end something went wrong and when the exhausting process had been completed, 48 tins were left over. One suggested this be left for 'visitors': the next meeting of the students was mentioned as an example of such a need. The rule that all food is to be distributed on an equal basis to all settlers was apparently ignored. I said a firm 'No' to this suggestion, pointing out that students' meetings have nothing to do with cripples, widows, etc. But then, would you believe it, the need for oil to cure the poisoned was mentioned [to be explained later]...

Our naivete in believing that the information put in the settlements would be disseminated is wonderful ! Few had heard of Bulletin No. I except for the rules about poisoning accusations. I asked people to come to a lot of meetings. After completing elections, we had a second general meeting and during it I learned a lot more about the confusion of the first election. Rules had not been followed at all. In many blocks, no voting had taken place and a system of sending five representatives from each to vote for the chairman, vice-chairman and secretary was dreamed up. People who were not block leaders were running for office despite your clear instructions. The fight over these positions was so intense that peace was severely threatened. As I said earlier, the antagonisms focused on the 'educated class', and the use of English. One fight which took place in our presence was triggered by an ex-block leader using English to 'humiliate' another who didn't speak it. (These two fellows were assigned work on the fence for the office compound as a punishment, but so far they refuse to accept it. Raphael said that he was withholding their food ration, but of course, they will just eat their wives' or kids' food!) The 'uneducated' were tough enough to frighten the 'educated'. Once I thought I knew what was going on, I called a meeting of 'elders' and invited the 'educated class' to listen. They must have learned a lot from the rage and anger of the elders, that is, the 'uneducated'. It was impressive how the elders and the other uneducated have tried to assert their equality in the situation where, as they put it, 'all are now refugees'. However, because we work in English, the majority remain at a disadvantage. They are incredibly suspicious and believe that 'they' (those whom we speak to) bribe us with English ! They say that their problems are not heard because they can't speak it. Raphael and I have reacted to this controversy by always using interpreters. We have challenged the students' debating society to debate in Lugbara and to use this activity to increase solidarity and debate issues which affect all of them.

Later

The mystery still remains as to why the positions of chairman, etc. were so important as to cause fighting. But the hostility was so intense, even after all those meetings we held and after the elections of the block leaders, that we decided to temporarily suspend the election of a settlement chairman and institute a 'rotating' chairman, with one person from each block taking responsibility to help Raphael in the 'office' compound one day of the month. Since Goli has 30 blocks, it might work. This will also allow tempers to cool and Raphael will get to know the block leaders better. Of course, l have told them this is my solution for the moment and that you will finally decide. When I announced this idea, the community was absolutely overjoyed because they knew the old guard was doing its best to get itself back in office. Honestly!!

The 'office' (is it the close proximity to the store which still has no lockable door?) has incredible mystique. We are thinking of ways to reduce this. Raphael has had a shelter erected in the centre which, when a mud bench is completed, will seat 27. A game table is being built by the new fellow who has leprosy and is temporarily living in the office compound with us. I promised to send games and people - particularly the elders - will be encouraged to use this as a small social centre, so more people will be around seeing what is going on in the 'office'.

Our first 'collective' and unchaired meeting under the new system was when the ACROSS agency people came to explain the building programme. It was a great improvement on earlier meetings. Since there was no person who was the chairman, there was a minimum of 'thank you's' and deference to 'important' personages, and people almost began simply to talk to each other. It will be interesting to see how things proceed following this experiment. I will meet with the block leaders again and allow the 'chairman for the day' to preside and see how it goes. Moreover, if a chairman is a block leader (as the system intended), he has enough work in his own block, and doesn't have the time to be at the office every day anyway.

Now another issue has cropped up - settling cases in the settlement. The two people who fought, as I mentioned, have refused to perform the work punishment Raphael assigned. And there is the case of a man, drunk, estranged from his wife, who beat up another woman in the process of trying to reclaim 'his' possessions (his wife had left him and taken everything UNHCR had doled out to a relative's compound). This case involved the two couples and the two block-leaders. I heard the accusations and listened to the husband and then told them to go off and let the elders settle it. Can you imagine their decision? First they imposed a £S2 charge for hearing the case (which they pocketed). Then they said that the block leader had to pay £S10 for 'failing to control the husband in his block'. (I think that's quite funny and perhaps not such a bad idea, given all the drunken parties I hear each night !) Then they said the husband had to pay £S25 for compensation to the woman he beat up. They gave him one month to do this. I asked where the hell the husband and the block leader would come up with these amounts. They had an answer. They would sell two bicycles which had been borrowed from other people not involved in the case at all, but which had somehow been used in moving from block to block in the fracas ! Oh yes, they would give half of the £S10 to the woman, topping up the £S25 to £S30, and they would pocket the other £S5 for hearing the case. I blew up. I told them that I had never heard anything so ridiculous. First of all, how could they hock someone else's property to pay this fine? One arrogant so-and-so gave me a lecture on Ugandan law and pointed out the he was an expert. I retorted that they were now under Sudan law, and the only reason I had suggested they talk about this case themselves was to avoid having to fall under the Sudan chiefs court down the road, risking the detention of one or more of them, and causing more trouble. They should be able to learn to keep peace in the settlement, but obviously they were not up to the challenge. I immediately returned the borrowed bikes to their relieved owners ! Up to that point, I didn't even know they were borrowed, and the owners had (significantly) been too afraid to inform me. Obviously the settlements need an explicit rule that cases which require some punishment may not be heard in the settlement and that no one may impose fines and pocket money for hearing cases. If they can't just do it quietly, that is, settle disputes by talking them out, then the foreman better turn the culprits over immediately to the chief and his police. Settlements are not states within a state. This is the Sudan!

It appears that little effort has been exerted by the block leaders to explain anything. The information regarding rules for forming co-operatives is not available in Goli. Nor is the amount of the development budget known, or what is required to apply for money. During the ACROSS visit, the social workers were asked all kinds of questions which exposed their lack of understanding of what is required, but no information has ever been given to them as to what they have to do to start an 'economically viable' project. Refugees are not able to do market research to document projected income or costs - both capital and running costs - or to find the sources and costs of raw materials, etc. etc. which is what ACROSS was demanding. It is completely ludicrous to expect inexperienced (or even experienced) people who have no access to transport to do more than they have already done, that is, create societies around existing skills. More serious, and I think you will have to talk with their director about this, ACROSS worries about whether capital investment in the settlements will encourage the 'flight' of viable businesses away from the settlement to Yei ![36] This argument is very weak. None of the co-operatives will make the members rich enough to abandon agriculture. It would be difficult anyway for refugees to get licences to operate in Yei or land for their buildings. I fear that all the delays and lack of support for establishing co-ops will end up discouraging the good initiatives already taken, and the money, as usual, will not be spent.

The medical staff here were honestly not aware that they should report to the foreman. They thought that one of the three copies of their monthly reports went to the UNHCR office. There continue to be problems: the need for shoes for lepers, spectacles for people. One man was informed by the agency doctor that when an oculist came to Juba, he would be sent to have his eyes tested. Then I discover another such case who has already been to Juba, and had his eye tested, and returned today with his new reading glasses from Khartoum. He was, I believe, referred from UNHCR Yei to Juba, not passing through GMT.

No one in Goli knew about the professional register [the book I had installed in each settlement for registering employable professionals]. The paper we wrote on that has not been disseminated. There is no system for communicating with the population and from my observations, very few who could have the will to do so. The 'class alienation' which has caused so much friction in Goli is largely the cause and it seems there is little concern among the educated to change this although one begins to see some glimmers of hope here and there.

The teachers had not explained their salary position to the community until our general meeting. There was great interest and the obvious 'sacrifice' the teachers are making was greatly appreciated. I never before saw such enthusiasm in Goli. The headmaster made an eloquent speech and one thing he pointed out is of great relevance to the overall policy. He said that because children have been out of school for three years, they have great difficulties disciplining them at first. All the social chaos one sees among adults is demonstrated in the school. Perhaps one should think again about all the delays in implementing educational facilities. Perhaps schools are one familiar institution which brings order and which would greatly assist the community in restructuring itself - particularly since there are more than enough trained teachers. (They don't need buildings, but they do need equipment.)

Goli needs a market, including a butcher. People are well- informed about dietary deficiencies and want to supplement their diet with food at the moment only available in Yei. There seems to be a bit of money for some at least - lots of people have managed to sell vegetables, despite having no transport. Raphael has approached the chief and he is agreeable to the idea of a market.

There is no system for providing materials to late arrivals. Sometimes this is because the foreman has not been informed of their arrival. But genuine cases exist. One woman and her children have only one bucket, they never got a hoe or a blanket. Many families have only one blanket for three people (although I realize this is better than in lots of settlements). How people manage in this cold with one blanket for three I cannot imagine. I sleep on the ground as they do, but I have a mat and two blankets under me and three on top. I sleep in my clothes and keep my cardigan on. Most of them don't even have clothes enough to cover their bodies. Do you know that worms come up from under the ground in the night and bite? And that this settlement is infested by rats? (The health worker or sanitarian, whatever he is called, gave a great lecture to the general meeting on why they had rats. I had been urging them to get on with building granaries, but he reminded them that it was their own dirty habits which attracted the rats. He pointed out the reasons for each household having a rubbish pit, and the need to clear all empty spaces - which in their present overgrown condition attract the beasts.) But, back to the distribution of materials to those newcomers who never received theirs. I don't know how it can be done without mismanagement by block leaders. Unless, of course, the foreman goes into every house and checks, which would be impossible. I'm afraid that the only fair system would be to have some kind of household ration card given out at the border with destination and any allocation there indicated. The present system is impossible. And, it is made totally impossible when there are not enough materials for distribution. Surely there is no excuse (if, as you say, money is not the problem) for not having a minimum kit for every household and in sufficient quantity. It is impossible to maintain equality when items - such as the recent supply of cornflour - comes. How can Raphael distribute 30 50-kilogram bags of cornflour to 4000 people? It's crazy.

And there is another matter. Payment for houses. The health worker has done a good job encouraging everyone to get his house finished, and the latrine, bathing shelter, drying table, kitchen, rubbish pit, etc. finished. Some people have done all these things and now, understandably, wonder why payment is withheld. As one ex-soldier pointed out, if a person who has completed his compound is paid immediately, it will encourage the rest to hurry. They, quite naturally, wonder why this money (which was supposed to be an 'incentive' for hurrying) is not paid after so many months.

Goli has the usual problems about getting agricultural land. There is plenty of uncultivated land, but despite all the agreements, the locals resist allowing them to start digging. There is great interest in cash crops, including tobacco and forestry. Imagine, one refugee pointed out that since they could never be sure they would ever be able to return to Uganda, they should start planting trees! He gave me a lecture on deforestation problems which refugees were causing and told me that they should be planting citrus to help their diets. He explained how in a couple of years they would already start benefiting. A lot of vital energy and enthusiasm is being wasted because of lack of attention to these matters. [In fairness, Akuti the agricultural worker, had approached the National Tobacco Corporation about growing tobacco.]

Regarding your outline for the foreman's report: in short, my first reaction was that it is too complicated. While foremen can be trained to code age groups, even the wear and tear on the pages of the registration books is going to be a problem. More serious is the complete absurdity of ages recorded. Our census revealed great inaccuracies. Whoever filled in the forms in the first place was not careful. To base much planning on them is clearly useless. I don't want to discourage thorough reporting, but we are asking untrained personnel to do what trained people would find excessive and they would have desks, files, lights to work at night, etc. See what comes of it, but I fear it may just overwhelm the majority of our foremen.

As far as record-keeping is concerned, births and deaths are not being properly recorded, but Goli had no foreman. No foreman equals no order in a settlement. But, the biggest problem of all is the lack of paper and proper facilities for people to work. Committees don't even have paper. I have been doling out my money for exercise books and pens because obviously they can't function properly without them.

I could say a lot more about what I have observed here, but the kerosene is about to run out. When my lantern leaves with me, there will be only one light left in the entire settlement. It is very dark at night in Goli, but despite that people have tried to organise some social events. Last night we went to watch the young people dancing in pitch darkness. I keep getting visits from delegations from the Muslims, the Catholics and whatever other religion happens to be here. I finally got all of them to meet together to talk about their problems and they are very conscious of the dangerous divisions which have been fostered by successive regimes in Uganda.

They are planning a farewell 'day' for me next Sunday. The most destructive part of my activities here is the sense that they believe that they needed someone to come from outside to straighten up their mess. Where are the leaders? How can we escape this role which is, after all, if you analyze my relationship with them, extremely authoritarian and even fascist?! It raises lots of questions about the role of coercion and who should practise it among a group of people whose society has totally broken down. Have you ever read Turnbull's study of the Ik ? I see a lot of unfortunate parallels. I will close for now. See you soon and thank Monique for sending the chocolate. I ate it all in one go, hiding in my tent so no one would see me and burying the wrappers the next morning. Sometimes I do not believe that I am in the midst of such a scene of contradictions and hypocrisy. In three days I must have blown £S20 on sugar and tea because I cannot meet with people and drink it in front of them. Oh yes, we preach against drinking - and we should - but I am now trying the local brew every night with Raphael, James and the storeman. It's quite good tastes a bit like vodka - and I make sure the storeman buys it from a Sudanese, so that I don't encourage the refugee women to start brewing as their main 'income generating' activity. That Buganda woman who tried to kill herself by eating glass last summer has been cooking for us. I pay her. Since I eat the rice and beans with chicken, I cannot understand why the refugees complain about the diet - smile!

Yours,

P.S Oh yes, I should also report that I am leaving £S30 with Raphael to pay the husband who beat up that woman for building a 'reading room' in the office compound. I have promised to send games for the games room and books for the reading room. Then he can pay the compensation to the injured party - I could not bear the trouble which would result if something wasn't done, and it did encourage the wife to return to her husband ! ['For better or for worse.']

Note:It should perhaps be mentioned that in the fullness of time it transpired that, along with most reports from settlements, the programme officer never had time to read this letter.

_____________________ 

[1] Following the most recent earthquake at Asmara, Algerians organised their response through the Red Crescent and the army. They said they had managed to prevent looting and to co-ordinate international assistance. Involving a disarmed military in humanitarian work might also improve relationships between soldiers and civilians. Certainly armies include such skilled professionals as engineers, doctors, logistics experts, etc. who are needed in emergencies.

[2] I wish I could give credit to the person in a meeting in London who asked the question, Why is it that when non-white foreigners work in the UK, they are "migrant workers", but when the British get jobs in Africa they are "experts"?' Morss (1984) talks about 'expatriate technician intensive' projects and observes that 'with world-wide unemployment rates as high as they are. any attempt to "bring the boys home" will meet resistance in donor nations.'

[3] The issue of refugee participation and the recognition of refugee-based organisations is an enormously complex one. The debate which took place during the international symposium, Alternative Viewpoints 1984, concerning the relationship of Namibians who are not members of SWAPO to an aid programme which is channelled through SWAPO highlights only one.

[4] Sudan entertained a reservation on refugees' right to freedom of movement. allowing the minister to make restrictive rules, but none have ever been formally imposed.

[5] Even the shortage of funds had some advantages. Probably only the most needy were being assisted. Recall most refugees have never been recipients of any aid. If funds had been available and dispensed in terms of local priorities, it is likely they would have been spent on infrastructural development, not on creating artificial settlement communities. On the other hand one must observe that few governments have a good record of responding to the needs of people at the grassroots.

[6] All materials imported for refugee assistance were duty free, but at one point Nemeiry attempted to impose a 5 per cent defence tax on all items imported into the country.

[7] With nearly half a million refugees, the Sudan still received less than $3 million through UNHCR.

[8] In 1981/2 Finland was dissuaded from giving tractors to the Sudan for refugee projects. The argument in this case, among other unpleasant inferences about COMREF's ability to manage projects, was that it was better to import standardised equipment and the major refugee project using tractors in the Sudan was relying on British products.

[9] The resettlement scheme is an example of how outsiders organize programmes for refugees with little or no reference to the host government. The secret 'operation Moses' is certainly another. (Parfait 1985).Quite apart from the Israel, US, and Ethiopian governments' involvement, the removal of so many thousands of Falasha to Israel was not done without the knowledge of some individuals within the Sudan government and the co-operation of the security but COMREF discovered 'Operation Moses' only through leaked information.

[10] Not surprisingly, given the Sudan government's overall deficit budget, COMREF had difficulty reclaiming these funds when it was necessary to draw against them.

[11] The complications of exchange rates which are imposed on different sources of money which come from abroad is yet another grey area. If hard currency were deposited in a Sudanese bank, UNHCR would receive it in Khartoum in Sudanese currency. It would not, among other things, benefit from fluctuations in rates and UNHCR would be unable to repatriate surpluses. Why there might be surpluses left over from projects which had been designed, costed, and approved is a subject for research in itself. I was told by the UNHCR officer in charge of education that in one year $50,000 intended for the higher education of refugees in the Sudan had been repatriated because the office was unable to find candidates or places for them to study.

[12] It is a common practice for outsiders to prepare a letter and simply ask either the Commissioner or his Deputy to sign. Both of these men, and the Minister, were rushed off their feet meeting the myriads of journalists, politicians, agency representatives and other delegations visiting the country. There was little time for them to exchange information.

[13] See Betts' study of the returnee programmes. He quotes a UNDP consultant who noted that ' Paradoxically, while the flimsy structures of modernization in the southern provinces have been shattered, the attitude of the people in all walks of life has changed beyond recognition.' (1974:134.)

[14] Interviews conducted in Panyume found that among 36 households, relatives were working in northern Sudan and Kenya, and one was studying in Egypt. (Wilson et al. 1985.)

[15] Language, although extremely important, is only one factor which makes integration more or less difficult for refugees. Refugees 'integrate' as individuals or households, and many factors influence their reception.

[16] It is not only the lack of vehicles. There is no regular supply of fuel in the area. Agencies like UNHCR, ACROSS, NCA, the German Forestry Team (GFT) and the ODA-funded Project Development Unit (PDU) get fuel overland from Mombasa. Whatever fuel is supplied to government offices comes up the Nile from Khartoum by barge. In practice this means that usually in Yei only agencies have fuel available. Others have to rely on black market sources which are exceedingly expensive. During the time I was there it cost £S50 per jerry can. (Given the complexities of exchange rates in the Sudan, the only way to compare this price is by pointing out the £S100 per month was regarded as a proper salary for a university graduate in a ministry).

[17] SCC was also praised for its efficiency and speedy response in 1972 when Sudanese were returning home. (Betts 1974.)

[18] Of course this oversimplifies the problem. In 1983 and once the project management office did begin to assume more responsibility, the office in Yei suffered from the appointment of a number of unsuitable personnel. There is a general lack of professionals in the south and no special training for managing refugee programmes so this is not surprising. However, the most immediate problem for the project manager in Yei was that he had no voice in the selection of many who were sent to work under him. While criticizing outsiders for usurping the role of the host in managing refugee programmes, I do not suggest that the Sudanese could assume management without enormous problems. But they will never begin to tackle them under present approaches to assistance.

[19] Personal communication.

[20] 1 was told that in the south 70 per cent of the 1981 UNHCR budget had not been 'implemented', the money returned to Geneva. In Geneva the Sudan desk officer had earlier commented to me to the effect that while Sudan was always asking for more money, it never 'implemented'. I was curious. How could a poor country which needed funds not spend them? In eastern Sudan I made a few inquiries and found that in many cases projects could not be started in time because the expert's feasibility study had come up with inaccurate figures, or the funds arrived too late to spend within the budget year. Or, as in this case, the agency was not competent to carry out the work and refused to employ local staff to do it. Among the Ugandans there were several trained and experienced community development workers. But even when this agency bowed to pressure from the UNHCR programme officer to employ more refugees in responsible positions, factors other than training and experience were the basis for recruitment. Some agencies insist their staff meet for Bible reading and prayers. Others will not employ someone who uses alcohol or tobacco.

[21] It also forwarded a proposal for funding a reforestation project directly to the German government, bypassing UNHCR Khartoum. Unfortunately this move was defeated by the head of German Forestry Team (GFT) in Yei. He complained that if GMT got the money, it would rely on GFT to do the work and would not pay them properly. If anyone was to get the contract, it should be GFT.

[22] ACROSS, being a small agency with very little international clout, decided to back out of the conflict.

[23] The reasons, as they were explained, were that the proposal was 'just more of the same'. That is, SSRAP planned to use an inordinate number of expatriates and most of its purchases would be made in the US. Once in the field, however, SSRAP did employ refugees and Sudanese and it learned the hard way that US garden hoes were not appropriate for the local soils.

[24] In a letter to the programme officer, the head at Juba questioned whether or not the local representative of SSRAP would be taking his orders from the US Embassy or from UNHCR.

[25] One, the ex-factory manager, took off with several thousand Sudanese pounds, returning to Uganda. He even greeted his compatriots in the Sudan over Radio Uganda. Later, however, when he lost his job, he wrote an apology to the programme officer, wondering if he could resume his job if he returned.

[26] Under such conditions it was obviously impossible to transport refugees in a more comfortable manner. But one can only appreciate the horrors of this trip by experiencing it. There were other hazards besides the conditions inside the lorry. On one occasion at a road block police ordered all the refugees off the lorry and forced them to squat on the ground in the dark for inspection. Finally my team was allowed to stand up, while the police and I surveyed the 'human weigh bill', as we called it. A woman was arbitrarily picked out of the list for questioning. Her husband was with her, a guerilla fighter who had been summoned to assist her to get to a settlement. Among the many other matters which were investigated the Children' were hauled for inspection under light from kerosene lantern. The policeman decided the couple were not the real parents because of differences in the colour of their skin. I quickly suggested the word orphan, and my assistant translated. The police threatened to keep the family behind, but I said I could not leave without them and was prepared to sleep in the station, or outside on the ground with the refugees (who were still squatting outside). The refugees said that had I not been there, their properties would have been inspected and someone would have had to pay before being allowed to continue the journey. We argued about this, my impression being that it was my assistant Charles Male's command of 'Juba Arabic', which was more powerful than my white skin or stubbornness. I believe that in the long run refugees are more secure if their patron is a national. But if my assistants were correct, then perhaps an outsider should ride in the back of each lorry transporting refugees.

[27] The practice of refugees praising UNHCR through song and dance became a subject of memos of complaint from the government offices! Later, when enthusiasm for UNHCR lessened, the songs grew quiet but the character of "Shoodie" remained for the refugees an anchor of consistency and fairness. I believe many Sudanese shared their appreciation for him. When military instability threatened the south, refugees reported to me that although the UN circulated secret evacuation instructions to the expatriate staff, "Shoodie" had said that if they were driven out of YRD, he might evacuate his family, hut he would not leave; he would share their fate.

[28] From the refugees we learned for the first time that there is a season in the agricultural cycle when goats are 'released', that is they are allowed to graze freely. Sudanese did not practice agriculture all year round as the Ugandans were accustomed to doing. These goats had ravaged dry season crops planted in river valleys which were avoided by Sudanese, but readily exploited by the refugees whenever possible. The importance of such questions and a host of other issues which they brought up would only be known to local farmers. (Chambers 1983.)

[29] The programme officer and I often argued about this foreman, he maintaining the latter was too authoritarian. Jokes like 'it takes one to know one' aside, no doubt these refugee communities did require a heavy hand at times, but the question was who was exercising authority and what was its basis. The creative energy which was released, particularly in the first months at Otogo, found sweet potatoes growing on every inch of vacant land within the settlement and many houses built in record time.

[30] Once I visited a block where a woman had just delivered and the placenta had not separated. She was severely haemorrhaging. The father of the infant was roaring drunk. No one had called the medical assistant. I stormed about the block, looking for someone who would respond to my moralizing. No one did and after I left. She died, untreated.

[31] As an experiment, I had asked each settlement to send two Young people to a three day workshop where we had intensively discussed the programme, its objectives, their problems, and how they could work as 'activists' to get their communities more united. That is where I first met some of my team.

[32] In retrospect this emphasis on correct names was ludicrous. Ugandans, (at least those from the north-west Nile) naming practices defeated my anthropological skills: I could find no pattern. People receive many names at birth and more later on. The majority of names are given when after three days, the mother first presents the newborn to the community. Little children arc sent to see the baby and they eat a traditional meal of beans. They dance and sing, and announce the name their parents has instructed them to give the child. One may use any of these names in any order and one may or may not use one's father's name.

[33] I made the same rash promise in Limbe and a year later one old man who had persevered to learn to read and write a few words claimed his radio ! In Goli, and not surprisingly, the whole thing fell apart and so I was spared paying up.

[34] The minutes of this meeting would be worth reproducing, but I left the only copy in the Yei UNHCR office. What they revealed was the value of facilitating (something outsiders can do) the meeting of the untrained health committees with the nurse. They asked him for information on all kinds of health problems and in particular about the problem of 'poisoning' and were obviously open to his advice.

[35] See Turton and Turton (1984) for an excellent account of how Africans (this time in Ethiopia) assume responsibility for themselves in situations of extreme crisis and re-adaptation when they are left alone to do it.

[36] The Settlements were established on the tame premise that a community of 3,000+ would be a viable economic unit, supplying sufficient demand for its own products. But, as McGregor discovered, all the districts demand for carpentry products was being filled in Yei by 20 Sudanese who could not expand unless they could get products to Juba. Carpenters in settlements were dependent on the agencies to purchase their products (McGregor in Wilson et al. 1985.) In Goli alone there were 13 highly skilled carpenters at the time.