By the People, For the People
We have started over the past days to have conversations with small groups of people about hiring them as "micro-enterprise development coordinators."
These would be people who we could train in our remaining time here to implement our business development strategy. If I can recruit and train trainers before leaving, they can continue to implement this strategy long after I'm gone.
These micro-enterprise development coordinators would be people from Mozambique who, because they don't have a cultural barrier to surmount, would be more effective trainers and mentors than I, a stranger, could ever be.
In our first such conversation, I was heartened that at least some of the people were catching our vision both for micro-enterprise development and for using Mozambicans as trainers.
"You guys see that Mozambicans have brains too," one of the meeting participants observed. "It usually seems like it's the white man to the rescue."
I have to admit that, for a compliment, it stung a little. Sometimes people back home have difficulty seeing past the colour of others' skin; I shouldn't expect anything different here.
The people we've spoken with have been unanimous in their enthusiasm for our vision.
Selecting the right people to hire to implement our vision promises to be an interesting challenge.
The first issue that we have to deal with is trust. Trust seems to be a commodity in short supply in Mozambique. Employees aren't used to being trusted. They are usually subjected to complex and bureaucratic structures that serve to emphasize this missing trust.
Compensating for missing trust is the driving force behind the tangle of red tape that I observed at the hardware store, and is commonplace throughout the country.
And employees don't trust that employers will award jobs based on merit. In African culture, it's the responsibility of employers to wield their power in a way that benefits their family and friends. To do otherwise would be to neglect the needs of those closest to you.
That's an interesting twist on the nepotism debate, but it's clearly at work in Mozambique.
RENAMO, Mozambique's opposition party, recently criticized the governing FRELIMO party over the lack of independence of the civil service. RENAMO claims that membership in the governing party is a prerequisite for government employment. Nonsense, was Luisa Diogo's reply. She's Mozambique's Prime Minister, and has responsibility of overseeing the independent body established to depoliticize the government's hiring practices.
What Ms. Diogo didn't find important to mention in her rebuttal was that the head of this independent body is her sister, Victoria Diogo.
"Is there nobody else in the entire country?", the RENAMO questioner wondered aloud.
Nepotism and other unfair hiring practices aren't restricted to the highest levels of government, either.
Yesterday, Timóteo shared with me the story of how he received his first job.
"I woke up in the morning and made a plan to knock on every door along Avenida 25 de Setembro," he recalled, referring to one of the major streets in Maputo. "After about three hours, I walked through a door and told the receptionist that I was looking for work, as I had for countless doors before. I told her that I was willing to do any work, it didn't matter what the task was."
"Did you read the sign above the door on your way in?" she asked him.
"Yes, you're a security company."
"And you're a young boy. How old are you?"
"23."
"We don't hire anyone under 25. And we're looking for tall, strong men. You're too small. I'm sorry, but we don't have anything for you here."
As Timóteo turned to walk out the door, he recalled sensing her attitude change. She saw something in me, he recalled, and took an interest in me.
"Young man," she called to his back as he retreated toward the door, "let me make a phone call and see what I can do for you." She proceeded to pick up the phone and dialed the number to her boss. "I'm here with my nephew," she said, "and he needs a job. His uncle has recently died, forcing him to move by himself to the city and ..."
Timóteo's recollection of her exact story trailed off. It wasn't his story. He had no idea where she pulled it from. But after a visit with the boss, who at first phoned the secretary back insisting that she must be joking that this small boy could be useful as a security guard, Timóteo was offered his first job.
He recalls standing in a line of new recruits as the boss fastened shoulder patches to their new uniforms. One stripe was typical for the new recruits, and two for select individuals with driver's licenses. Timóteo, not measuring up to the other security guards but mistakenly seen as family by the boss, was given three stripes. Unheard of for new recruits. His job would be to supervise a team of these bigger, stronger guards lined up on either side of him.
We can try to combat these issues of trust by demonstrating as fair and open a recruitment process as possible and by creating systems that promote trust rather than suffocate it.
But other challenges will remain, like putting people with little experience (nearly 45% of the population is under 14 years of age) or formal education (over half the population is illiterate) in charge of implementing the program.
And determining what is a "fair" rate of pay in a third-world country.
We're looking for people who are excited about our vision; people who will be excited to implement it. We're hoping that people don't come just for the promise of a secure job.
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