Archive for April, 2019

Good luck for managing VUCA

I have known about the concept of VUCA for some time (Volatile, Uncertain, Chaotic  (or Complex) and Ambiguous). It has been a theoretical concept, only mildly expressed in my peaceful and protected life in Manchester by the sea. I didn’t really understand what VUCA means until our meeting this afternoon with the ICRC officer in charge of our security briefing. As he described the political situation in Mali, the letters VUCA flashed in front of my eyes.  There are so many factors at work, so many interests, so many weapons, so much unchartered territory, so much anger, so much disappointment, so much mistrust.  There is the vast Sahel, flooded with weapons drugs and the most desperate young people seeking a better life in Europe..and always people taking advantage of the misery of others to enrich themselves. And then there is a very divided governing elite, plus active religious partisans – I is hard to wrap your head around it.  

If ever I experienced a sense of doom it was in that otherwise sunny and nicely decorated office of the officer as I watched the map and our briefer’s finger tracing the parts of Mali that are now off limits and/or ungovernable.  I asked how he was managing to stay optimistic and do his work amidst so many distressing signals and events. A few weeks ago there was a massacre  of Fulani herders. Some 160 of them got killed. This followed after the Malian government cracked down on Islamic terror cells in the country. These terror cells have become more virulent and are spreading, like a cancer across national boundaries (including once considered peaceful Burkina Faso).  The white blood cells (the government’s forces) are supposed to attack these cells but they seem impotent. Militias are forming to fill the vacuum – ICRC is trying to figure out who is legitimate, with whom to establish relationships so it can continue to do its work.

The government didn’t hold, for this and other reasons; people are protesting in the streets, kids have lost a school year as teachers are striking and all the while ISIS is rebuilding its base in the desert – its new headquarters after Trump declared ISIS was conquered. It is not.  It is cultivating its force far away from its former bases in Syria and Iraq. There are signs that Sri Lanka’s sleeper cells were activated from here. The attacks can happen anywhere. This is what terror is about: fear it can happen here. Yet the American press is mostly preoccupied with the Mueller report. As if….

Bombs that can be activated by cell phones, and new mines are being placed in some parts of Mali. This will ensure that more people will lose their limbs and so the national rehab center I am working with this week can expect more and more people who need to learn to live without their God-given limbs. They will need prosthetists, physical therapists, orthopedic surgeons, social workers, wheelchairs, crutches and, most of all, a family support system. It is a very tall order for this government institution that is funded by public monies and, for now, considerable support from ICRC. It will need to wean itself from the latter, just when demand is like to grow, exponentially.

The demand is already exceeding the center’s capacity to deliver the services. A few new regional centers are being planned, some already under construction – but the question is, how can these centers be staffed, supplied and supervised in the face of increasing insecurity in the country. The cities, I am told, are still OK, but the roads servicing those cities are not. Soon it is planting time – but the seeds and fertilizers needed to plant the field need to come over the road – and others are eyeing the trucks for cheap supplies. It’s not just the war machine that is in full operation here – there is a settling of accounts, re-taking of fields and other goods some feel more entitled to than their current owners. I thought of Rwanda where the settling of accounts was as much a drive as the prevailing narrative of ethnic cleansing. I thought of how Kagame, enlightened dictator, has turned things around. A new Prime Minister is taking the helm this week. He has the unenviable (and maybe impossible) task to turn the tide of political turmoil, economic downturn, environmental degradation, insecurity, an enraged population and oppositional forces who want to see him fail. Good luck with the VUCA.

On the road again

Our 33rdEaster celebration took place before Easter because of my trip to Mali and our art camp that will follow. Mid-May is simply too late to associate with Easter. We lucked out on the one sunny and mild day in weeks. As usual it was a joyful gathering though several longtime and relatively new friends were missing because of our just-in-time invite.  We went electronic (with eVite) but will return to old fashioned invites in envelopes with real stamps next year.

In my clean up frenzy of the last few weeks I had injured my lower back, picking up and moving some items that I shouldn’t have. Impatient to wait for help I moved them anyways and in doing so, stupidly, hurt my back in a way I have never done before. I had instant sympathy for people complaining about their backs. Unable to get either a chiropractor or massage therapist to reduce the debilitating spasms Axel used his iStem on my back– a gadget that delivered small electrical currents to my lower back. It gave me some relief albeit temporarily. Sitting and standing was no problem, but getting up or bending over was very painful. I started to move like a (really) old person and wondered about my flight.

On the eve of Easter, the flight to Paris was only half full. Did people cancel trips because of one of the main attractions, the Notre Dame, being crossed off the tour program, I wondered? I had two front seats to myself and managed to sleep. Once in line to boarding the Bamako and Abidjan flight that luxury was gone – even on Easter Sunday. The flight was completely full. It’s a short flight, and this one a day flight, so I didn’t mind.  The back pain had eased – now I was simply stiff after the long flights, but not in pain.

I did not find the promised ICRC chauffeur holding up a sign to bring me to my hotel. I waited for about half an hour in 102 degrees and then got a taxi (climatisé).  Since the back doors had no handles and opened with difficulty the driver invited me to sit in front. I took the dusty seatbelt and clicked it in. The chauffeur laughed. It stopped the seatbelt sign from blinking.

Even though he said he knew where the hotel was he had to call a friend on his flip phone for directions. He pressed the flip phone between his shoulder and his ear and shiftied gears with his left hand. I asked him to stop multi-tasking. He agreed but then kept talking and driving.  I gestured he was about to lose his ride. He pulled over, finished his call and concentrated on the one task I was paying him for, except for removing his neon yellow  ‘taxi-aeroport’ vest, letting go of the steering wheel with both hands for an instant. I held my tongue.

To make small talk I asked him about the mangoes – it is that season here. I don’t think he understood me. A few kilometers later he suddenly stopped, in the middle of a busy road and put the car in reverse. He had spotted a woman selling mangoes. After that the ride was uneventful. 

On the dashboard in front of me, as if written with ‘wite-out’ I read:“monsieur so and so, telephone so and so, marketing mechanic, please contact on this number. Forbidden (‘Def.’) to speak with the driver,’ like the placard in a bus. We didn’t talk anymore after that. He did deliver me to the right hotel and in his car climatisé and so I gave him the  agreed upon 10 Euro fare.


April 2019
M T W T F S S
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
2930  

Categories

Blog Stats

  • 136,980 hits

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 76 other subscribers