It takes a village
Community development programs usually start with
handshaking, flag-waving and smiles all round.
But how do they end when the bunting has faded and the politicians
retreated to the cities? Duncan Graham reports from Blitar, East
Java where one project hasn’t turned to mud.
In the late 1980s three men from the backblocks arrived at
the Malang office of Made Dharsama Polak’s business consultancy, PT Dayapertiwi
Mukti.
The men represented 22 households and their quest was basic
and universal: They wanted a better life for their families and friends.
They also knew that worthy goal would never be achieved if
they continued as casual farm laborers, forever tilling other men’s soil,
hoping that one day the government might recognize their plight.
As an offshoot to his company, Made ran an NGO specializing
in community based economic development programs. He put together some ideas and the men went
home to ponder their next move.
The problems were significant and the barriers high. Many
people lived in bamboo shacks in the forest.
There was no village center, no services, and no government
interest.
With no security or collateral the banks were equally
indifferent. The people were just
surviving.
Made’s plan required them to raise cash and apply for an
interest-free loan. Each household
tossed in Rp 200 (then about 10 US cents) and the group borrowed Rp 300,000
(about US $15).
They used this to buy coconuts, shred the flesh and process it
to make cooking oil.
“We couldn’t eat the coconuts, even though we were hungry,”
said Roesmiati, whose late husband Sutrisno was one of the trio that approached
Made Polak. “Were we poor? Very! Everything
had to be sold and the loan repaid.”
It was, so another was taken out, this time for Rp 750,000. Chickens were bought and a machine purchased to
grate the coconuts.
An international conference of aid agencies held in Batu,
near Malang and organized by Made Polak attracted NGOs from Southeast Asia,
Europe and Japan. Dutch and German groups visited the project and offered more
loans. Churches in the Dutch province of Friesland also helped.
Later Made helped negotiate with a local farmer for the
group to buy 210 square meter blocks on time payment. From serfs to landlords – it was a
significant psychological and economic shift.
The European agencies have since moved on, reckoning the
project has gathered its own momentum and achieved its goals.
These are substantial.
About 200 people now live in a village called Doko that never existed 23
years ago.
Doko squats on a hillside flanking a teak forest and a river
that runs year round. The soil is fertile and the climate benign. It has
electricity and tolerable roads. Most
houses are brick or concrete with tiled floors.
Some have satellite dishes. One looks
grand.
This isn’t a snapshot of the new Indonesian middle class,
but is a sketch of small scale and low-level rural prosperity. Although growing
rice, corn, and other crops remains the core industry, the villagers have
diversified.
Some residents have gone overseas or to other provinces,
remitting money. Roesmiati is fattening three
cows destined for slaughter and tends her peanut crop. Gita Iswantari makes kripik mbothe (cassava crisps) and sells these locally.
Jarni bought a motorbike and uses this as an ojek (taxi) ferrying people and goods
around the district. The farmers prepare
their own organic fertilisers and work their fields using local knowledge, not
instructions from Jakarta.
Irwan Wahyu Saputro and Mohamad Prawoto (left) the village
coordinator, were the other two members of the trio that decided life had to be
more than labouring for others. They went on training programs in Central Java
and saw how other villages were using their initiative to get ahead.
Despite their success they still can’t access bank
loans. The houses stand on
community-owned ground and the families don’t have the certificates banks
demand for security.
“We still need access to money to build our stock,” said
Roesmiati. “There have been many stops in our journey. When you walk fast and
slow than it can be painful.”
“This isn’t a special village,” said Made, “but it has some
special people, determined, smart and hard working. I feel proud of what’s been
accomplished.”
The poor are bankable
Despite Indonesia now playing in the big league there’s
still a big gap between traditional and modern economies, according to Made
Polak (right).
“Banks continue to ask for collateral but are becoming more
flexible in providing loans,” he said.
“Poor people are bankable if treated properly. I’ve only had four per cent default on loans.
“This country faces many challenges, but poverty reduction
remains the most important.
“All other reforms, like education, the civil service and political
liberalization will be judged by the extent to which they contribute to the
raising of standards for all Indonesians, particularly the poorest.”
Made’s CV is impressive.
His academic father, Major Polak was prominent in the Hindu community.
He founded the Malang College of Economics, now a faculty of Brawijaya University.
Although trained as a lawyer Made Polak became concerned
with environmental issues and poverty reduction. He got a scholarship to study
enterprise development in Germany and later studied in Holland.
Since 1987 he has worked on water supply programs,
agribusinesses, rice production, housing and small industry development. These projects in Java, Bali and West Timor
have involved the World Bank and agencies in Europe, Canada and Australia.
In an address to directors of his company he said: “Political and economic space should be enhanced for civil
society groups and other actors to improve the existing situation and work
towards a more egalitarian and democratic society.”
First published in The Jakarta Post 16 Jan 2013
(Captions: View of Doko; Jarni
on motorbike; Gita Iswantari makes kripik
mbothe: Roesmiati with cows; Mohamad Prawoto; village stroll; Made Polak
(blue shirt).)
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