Love, Art, and Microfinance

Like my visit last November 2008, this visit to Bangladesh has been a series of conversations. On the eve of my departure, three threads stand out in my recollection – love, art, and microfinance.

As soon as Fatema Kabir came into her living room in Dhaka, she expressed her condolences at Inay‘s passing. I muttered my usual “She had a full life,” but she added something that hit home. “We mothers will find it easy to go when it is time to go,” she said. “But I don’t know how our children will take it.”

Although Fatema is only 65 (if I heard right), she has had excruciating pain in her knees which prevent her from walking. “I don’t want any operation,” Fatema said, “and have asked for other possible treatment.” Part of the reason is that she had two previous operations that involved general anesthesia, and she had difficult post-operation recovery. “I don’t think I will survive another general anesthesia,” she added.

That reminded me of my sister Yen’s decision not to follow the doctors’ advice to amputate Inay’s gangrenous foot: “At her age, she won’t survive general anesthesia.” Earlier, we even thought Inay would not recover from the lower spine anesthesia given by the doctor for her debridement.

Fortunately, Fatema found doctors in Singapore who can do the needed  operation without using general anesthesia. They also reassured her that so far, the procedure has had 100% success. Still, she can’t help but worry. Hence she has postponed the operation till the end of 2009: “I want to setttle affairs, just in case…”

Fatema comes across as a self-c0nfident woman, and my impression of her is that she is secularized like many educated professionals and political leaders. But she said, “As a devout Muslim, I am not afraid of dying. I don’t believe that is the end. I am sure I will have enough to do in the other life, including keeping watch over my children.”

I told her that when my aunt was preparing Inay for her death, she would tell her that she deserves to rest after a life of service to so many. But I think that what may have really influenced Inay to let go was her words: “You can better watch over your children from there.”

Fatema whispered that the pain she has experienced and the prospect of a dangerous operation have also made her experience and realize how much her children love her. But even if she did not mention it, what came across as strongly to me was how much she loved her children, especially her only son Imon.

Imon apologized for not meeting me at the airport. “I had a terrible migraine,” he explained, “and my wife had to pour water over my head until it subsided.” He has been busy preparing to travel next week to Pakistan for an exhibit of Bangladesh art. Next July he brings Bangladesh art pieces to an art fair in Canada, and after that to an art summit in India.

“Were you always interested in art?” I asked. He said he was exposed from his early years to theater and music and paintings. But his foray into selling Bangladesh art is driven by a deeper sense of mission: “Bangladesh is a poor country, and I want the world to have other images of our country.”

He said that the painting tradition in South Asia traces its roots to Bengali painters and art teachers in Calcutta, and there is a rich and distinct tradition of Bangladesh art. Together with some like-minded friends, he set up Jolrong, a company that promotes and sells the works of Bangladesh artists: “We have over 100 artists who sell their works through us,” he said. “Although we are only a year old, we have gotten favorable attention.” A key strategy of Jolrong is building a sophisticated website that displays the art pieces, through which people can order both originals and cheaper limited edition digital copies.

I told him about a meeting I had the day before I left for Bangladesh. Manny Garibay, resident artist at Sambalikhaan invited me to a conversation with a group of artists, mainly young, but including a few veterans like Boogie Tence Ruiz. They are planning a major exhibit next year on art and religion, tentatively called “CritCat.” Manny explained that it’s shorthand for “critical catholic.”

We had a stimulating exhange of ideas on the role of religion and art, and they asked me to contribute to the exhibit. I suggested that they include liturgy as “performance art” and maybe ask also a group of theologians to hold a conference as part of the activities.

Yesterday I had a discussion with Mr. Siddiq about the microfinance program of Protiggya Parishad. When PP started in 1988, the founders used their personal funds and some  donations from local NGOs to start literacy classes for women and a small lending program. Now the microfinance program has grown bigger, using only locally generated funds.

But none of the PP leaders believe in microfinance as a stand alone strategy for development. They are quite critical of what I call exagerrated “celebration” of microfinance as the key to helping poor people rise out of poverty. For them, the savings and lending program is in support of the more important program of “education for life” that includes basic literacy, skills training and leadership development.

In fact the staff of Protiggya Parishad are mainly concerned with organizing the literacy classes in the villages, followed by skills training. Only after they have graduated from these courses are participants qualified to apply for small loans, mainly as capital for small enterprises they want to start.

I was reminded of Ed Morato’s comment about microfinance in the Philippines: “If all we are interested in is to give the poor easy access to credit and to insure that they repay their loans, we are nothing more than sophisticated Bumbays.” he suggests that the more important indicator should be an increase in the assets of the poor.

Mr. Siddiq knew a lot of Filipinos during the years he spent as overseas worker in the Middle East, and has good memories of them. He says that it is difficult for the same person to be staff for education and staff for microfinance. Insuring loan repayments means that the staff must be firm, almost hard-hearted. But for the training programs, staff are facilitative. Perhaps Protiggya Parishad needs to have separate departments, with distinct staff, for its education and microfinance programs.

I shared similar experiences in the Philippines. In the case of QK in Negros Occidental and BMFI in Misamis Oriental, the development NGOs eventually decided to establish a separate “sister” organization to take care of microfinance.

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