Published Monday, November 29, 2009 By Trudy Rubin, Inquirer Opinion Columnist
HERAT, Afghanistan
- As the United States struggles to find ways to funnel aid money more
effectively to Afghans, it should take note of the efforts of a Montgomery County businessman.
Aldo
Magazzeni of Perkiomenville builds water systems for poor Afghan communities -
for a fraction of what a big foreign contractor would charge.
A tall force
of nature with wild graying hair and beard who looks at home among Afghan
elders, Magazzeni takes time off from his industrial-fastener business, leaves
his patient wife, Anna, to manage their farm, raises funds from schools and
Rotary Clubs, and buys the materials for his projects. Poor villagers
contribute their labor and host him, and he calls on local engineers for advice.
Voilà! For
$20,000 to $25,000, up to 10,000 families gain access to clean drinking water
in a project for which a contractor would charge at least $200,000. It may not
be possible to replicate Magazzeni, who is willing to sacrifice his personal
life to help others. But his work shows how much further aid money can go if
local people help design and build projects meant to better their lives.
Magazzeni had
done volunteer work in Haiti
and was an admirer of Paul Farmer, the renowned physician who has set up
hospitals in Haiti, Rwanda, and
elsewhere. Farmer's motto, Magazzeni says, is "I'll teach people how to
care for each other. No huge programs. Keep it simple, and people will help
themselves."
Magazzeni set
out for Kabul in 2004 because of the Iraq war.
"I wanted to work for peace in a country left behind in a previous
war," he said. He also wanted to climb Mir Samir, the peak described by
Eric Newby in his book A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush. Much like Greg
Mortenson of Three Cups of Tea fame, Magazzeni reached the summit, but
he met Panshiri villagers who took him in.
The locals
asked for his help in bringing clean water to their village. They were walking
500 meters down to the Panshir
River for their water.
Magazzeni
consulted with a local Afghan engineer, went home, sold an antique BMW for
$8,000, and returned to the village. Pretty soon, thanks to a holding canal,
two storage tanks, a small electric generator, and pump, a water system was
born. It wasn't long before Magazzeni was committed to six more villages, then
18, creating gravity systems that piped water down to village storage
facilities. Ultimately, he found a local Afghan foundation to help maintain the
systems.
Through new
Afghan friends, he met Suraya Pakzad, an activist who runs programs and
shelters for women in Herat,
a city near the Iranian border that is safer than points to the south and east.
Magazzeni and Pakzad soon joined forces, combining her work with women, with
his zeal to bring clean water to women and children.
"In Herat, for a lot less
money I could benefit so many people," Magazzeni says. He raised more
money to connect a women's and men's jail to a main water pipeline. "We
dug 2,400 meters [11/2 miles] of ditches, me and 25 prisoners watched by guards
with rifles," he recalls.
What he soon
discovered was that big donor agencies like USAID will spend huge amounts to
install main lines, but poor communities may never get connected. So he decided
to "do things big organizations don't want to do."
He linked up
with the Herat
water department and engineer Numatullah (Afghans often use one name), a neat,
compact man who has become his faithful partner. "I was amazed he wanted
to pay for it himself to help poor people," Numatullah told me. "I am
very happy to work with him." Together they have completed four projects,
bringing water access to more than 25,000 families, for less than $70,000.
Local communities provided the labor.
I drove with
Magazzeni down the dusty, unpaved alleys of Shalbafant, a poor working-class
district of Herat, where families in walled mud-brick homes can now tap into
Magazzeni's pipelines. Numatullah said he preferred working with Magazzeni to
working with local nongovernmental organizations. "Often a lot of local
NGOs look to make money for themselves," he said. "With Aldo we use
the last cent, so we don't lose any money."
The Afghan
engineer also pointed out that international aid workers come with tanks and
soldiers for security protection, and never enter these poor alleys.
"Masses of people get eliminated from benefits because they don't fit into
the structure," he said. Those are the people that Magazzeni wants to
serve.
I witnessed
the gratitude of the community when I attended a ceremony at the local mosque
in honor of Magazzeni's fourth project, complete with a ribbon-cutting over a
spigot. Local elders gathered in the mosque along with Herat's deputy governor and two women: me and
Pakzad. One community youth said: "Children and women suffered from lack
of water in these poor places." Magazzeni, tall and fair in a mosque full
of turbans, said: "When people come together and help each other, they can
fix problems that are making people sick."
What struck
me about the ceremony was how fond the local elders were of Magazzeni; he
clearly had become part of the community. "What I really cared
about," he told me later, "was how many I helped and how many would
walk away with a more open approach to others in the world."
Magazzeni is
working with students and faculty at Pennsylvania
State University
and Burlington County Community College
to develop courses where students can work on Afghan water projects. Penn State
students raised $7,000 to partner with an Afghan village. You can find out more
about his projects at www.travelingmercies.org.
As the United States
struggles to revise an aid system dependent on big private contractors, there
are clear lessons to be learned here. Afghans need to see that their lives can
be made better in the near term. Small projects with low overhead that involve
local people in their creation may produce a greater impact than something big
and grand.