following the tradition of NGOs in africa, we recently installed road signs pointing the way to our offices. added visibility is good for the organization. an unforseen but expected consequence, however, is that the signs bring people knocking at the door looking for a job. robert, our guard/gardener, tells me that in the days since the signs went up he has “too many!” visitors asking for jobs.
when we first moved in, pre-signs, several people stopped by with credentials (resumes, recommendations, employment history) looking for jobs as cleaners, cooks, gardeners. one woman visited with her small daughter asking for school fees. the new mzungus were in the neighborhood and everyone knows that we employ. now post-signs, everyone knows that NGOs employ and they’ve redoubled their attempts to find gainful employment.
they’re even looking for a job at 7:45am on a saturday morning. no joke. the painfully high unemployment here compels people to be excruciatingly persistant and dedicated so that they are the ones that get lucky this time. but, then when i’m hiring for professional positions, i spend months recruiting trying to find qualified people to no avail. it’s a dichotomy that i’m grappling with now as more and more people come knocking for jobs i don’t have and no one shows for those jobs that i do.
2 responses so far ↓
1 ty // Mar 13, 2007 at 7:34 pm
i have to laugh at your description of uno’s change of temperament as he gradually realized you weren’t going to let him outside. it’s a response i know all too well. calvin is pissed off right now because there is too much snow for outdoor privileges, but another 50+ degree day and he’ll be free. :)
-ty
2 andersonbowen.comBLOG » Blog Archive » paige, the manager vs. paige, the person // May 10, 2007 at 1:28 am
[…] as i alluded to in an earlier post, the requests for money (and jobs) sharply increased immediately after we put up the signposts marking the office in kampala. people - neighbors, strangers, passersby - came daily to ask for one thing or the other. then, late one morning jarvis sat on my patio and quietly explained to me how he had survived the rwanda genocide (he showed me scars on his chest and shoulders from where he was stabbed and bludgeoned) but now he was HIV+ and he had progressed to a late stage of AIDS where his antiretroviral drugs could no longer help him. his mother in rwanda, who had lost all of her children in the genocide except for jarvis, did not know he was HIV+ and he wanted to go home to her before he died. all he wanted was the $20 bus fare to get from kampala to his home village in rwanda. jarvis and i were strangers, yet somehow he knew my name. madam paige, please some small, small money to help me. i said yes, then walked inside the house and cried. saddened by his story but also afraid of all the others who would come knocking on my door. […]
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