Barriers hinder Afghans from giving back

I first met Matiullah Amin through Sally and Don Goodrich, two of the most inspiring people I have come across in my 28 years of reporting. The Vermont couple lost their son, Peter Goodrich, on the morning of September 11th when he was aboard one of the planes that were piloted into the twin towers. In response to their grief and as part of an effort toward reconciliation with what happened, Sally and Don reached out to Afghanistan. They built an amazing school for girls which I have been lucky enough to visit. They also developed a network of support that has brought brilliant, young people from Afghanistan to give them a chance to study in some of the country's most elite prep schools. Some of them, like Amin, have also gone on to top colleges.

Sally, who sadly died last year after a long battle with cancer, was a school teacher in Western Massachusetts and she believed greatly in the power of learning. It was her life lesson. And Amin learned that lesson well. He is a rising senior at Williams College. He is also the founder and president of Afghan Youth Initiative. Amin has helped us at GlobalPost with translation for an in-depth project we did titled "Life, Death and the Taliban," which featured a story about Sally and her life work. I am pleased to publish a guest blog post Amin has written for GroundTruth about the responsibility all Afghans have to their country. And I hope we will be hearing more 'ground truth' from Amin in the future. — Charles M. Sennott

Much is being said about Afghan forces taking full control of security by the end of 2014. Local control over what our society will become is at least as important to our future, but remains off the public agenda. Afghans must start giving back to our communities in order to strengthen social ties and grow sustainable development projects of every kind without relying heavily on the foreign donor community.

The need is greater than ever. Not only has the current war hurt people and undermined state security, but its indirect effects have had possibly irreversible consequences for Afghan society. Inequality and poverty have ballooned. Many Afghans have made fortunes since the fall of the Taliban, and the tremendous flow of foreign money into Afghanistan has skyrocketed the purchasing power of a small fraction of the Afghan population. Unfortunately, the poor have suffered because of it.

“The house that I could rent for 2,000 Afghani per month a couple of years ago in Kabul is now for 15,000 Afghani. Because I cannot afford it, I live in a remote village outside of Kabul,” said Jamal a taxi driver.

The housing market is just one of many examples.

No country, including Afghanistan, can depend on external support for development without paying the cost in a currency comprised of local culture, indigenous talent, and intergenerational bonds. In addition to the Afghan government, it becomes the responsibility of ordinary and wealthy Afghans to support small–scale development projects in their communities. Local support could range from helping with school supplies, medicine for rehabilitation centers, and beds and blankets for orphanages to simple voluntarism, for instance. It allows local communities to become an integral part of the development process.

This trend has not fully developed in Afghanistan yet. Under the Islamic commandment of Zakat, Afghans give a small portion of our wealth to the needy (mainly close relatives), and individual donations to mosques and madrassas are quite common. We might give more, and our cultural traditions and faith both support giving more. But barriers hinder Afghans from philanthropic contribution outside these avenues. The rampant corruption in some local NGOs has discouraged Afghans from developing a true sense of commitment to our communities.

When we hear that an NGO has 10 fully functioning vehicles when it only needs two, three office spaces when it only needs one, or an NGO director is pocketing money and stays in expensive hotels, we conclude that all NGOs are corrupt. As a result of corruption by some NGOs, people stop contributing to NGO-led projects in their communities.

“One of the most practical ways for me to help my people is to financially support NGOs’ development projects in my community, whether they be schools, rehabilitation centers, vocational centers and the like. But how can I help when I know that most of those NGOs have become money-making machines?” asked Dr. Ahmad Jan, a practicing doctor who also runs a pharmacy part-time.

In fact, many NGOs have produced sustainable projects, and created local job opportunities. Some NGOs have even executed programs in areas where neither the international community nor the Afghan government could work because of the lack of security. But because of some corrupt organizations, the Afghan people have lost faith in all.

“I am not confident that NGOs would put my donations to any good use. A large chunk of it would end up in someone’s pocket,” said Zahidullah, founding partner of an engineering and construction company in Kabul.

The key question is how to tell the difference between constructive NGOs and thieving ones. Luckily there is an easy answer. Requiring audits whose results are made public is almost cost-free.

In order to overcome this distrust, NGOs must be regularly audited. More transparency in local NGOs will encourage Afghans to contribute to their communities, and thus produce locally led, sustainable projects. Most importantly, it will give Afghans control over shaping our society.

Matiullah Amin is a senior at Williams College, where he is pursuing degrees in Economics and Political Science. He also travels to Afghanistan every year to develop the “five-step” summer program for Afghan Youth Initiative, Inc., a non-profit organization that he founded to help educate young Afghans and support grass-roots, youth-led community projects to stimulate leadership and educational skills among Afghan youth.