Tom Hanks and Kristine Pearson holding a Freeplay windup radio
Kristine Pearson with Tom Hanks, who knows the power of radio

Tackling Energy Poverty

All posts tagged by solar powered

What About Including Women in Africa’s Transformation?

May 17, 2012

By Kristine Pearson in Addis Ababa

I left the closing plenary of the World Economic Forum on Africa in Addis Ababa last Friday with a profound sense of optimism. Josette Sheeran, the Forum’s new vice-chairman, moderated a wonderfully inspirational panel with African Young Global Leaders and Global Shapers. She asked: “What if, what about and if you could…”

For three days on limited sleep, we conversed about Africa — what needs to be done, what we’re doing well, where we’re going and the speed at which we’re traveling. South Africa’s minister of finance, Pravin Gordhan, delivered his heartfelt remarks, reminding us that there are a billion lives on this continent that need to benefit from Africa’s transformation.
Little did I realize how swiftly and significantly Minister Gordhan’s words would touch me.

For more than 13 years I’ve had the privilege of making friends with exceptional African women. As the head of Lifeline Energy, my work takes me into all sorts of different environments, from crowded urban settlements and refugee camps to isolated rural areas. Here, our solar and wind-up MP3s and radios provide access to information and education specifically for these underserved populations. And, whenever I travel in Africa, I make a particular point of speaking with women who struggle to make ends meet and who use fossil fuels for their basic energy needs. I’m convinced that as long as women are dependent on non-renewable energy sources, the odds are highly unlikely they will rise out of poverty.

On Saturday, I asked my Ethiopian friend, social entrepreneur and children’s TV presenter Brukty Tigabu, who runs Whiz Kids Workshop, if she could arrange for me to meet local women. Brukty took me by taxi to Fresh and Green Academy, a colourfully painted primary school located off a two-lane paved road in one of Addis’s newer neighbourhoods (when I visited Addis 10 years ago this area was little more than a eucalyptus grove).

Fresh and Green, although accredited, doesn’t receive government support. Its founder, 36-year-old Muday Mitiku, relies on sponsorship and income-generating projects to fund the education of 125 local at-risk children from preschool to grade 4. She also helps support their destitute mothers medically and financially. Although she lives in a modest two-room house, Muday has adopted eight children whose mothers have died of HIV/AIDS and would otherwise have been forced to live on the streets. Some of the children are HIV positive themselves.

Muday told me the tragic story of a woman who was lying on a floor in a shop room nearby waiting to die. Although anti-retroviral drugs are free in Ethiopia, people still have to find the funds for transport, often wait for hours to be seen at a hospital, and then require regular meals to ensure that they don’t become ill from the medication.

During my trip, I visited women in their one-room, rough-hewn mud, straw and aluminium shacks they rented in back gardens and behind a bar. I also spoke with three women, all part of the Fresh and Green cooperative, who were weaving brightly coloured scarves on traditional wooden looms on the school grounds. As I was a textile major at university, I recognized the looms — the historical design hasn’t changed for more than 2,000 years (weaving of cloth is considered a highly skilled occupation, and as such, is usually performed by men).

All the women that I spoke with confirmed what I’ve heard hundreds of women say, that they spend far too much money on kerosene, charcoal and firewood. Their rent includes an unreliable electricity supply, usually a light bulb dangling from the ceiling; they can’t afford batteries for a flashlight or radio. One woman had a clock radio, but it didn’t work because a rat had eaten the cord.

As Brukty and I were saying our good-byes, a wafer-thin girl named Sara ran past us with ripped-up paper in her hands, crying. Her mother had torn up her homework and told her that there was no point in her going to school as she was just a girl. We went to look in on the mother. Lying on the ground under a threadbare blue blanket, her silhouette appeared as if she was a 10-year-old girl herself as she was so emaciated. She had lapsed into a coma and could die at any moment. It was devastating to witness this.

Imagine that Sara’s last memories of her mother are those of unspeakable cruelty. Her mother is like many other poor and rural women who migrate to cities across Africa and around the world. Many are often forced to turn to risky sex work to feed themselves and their children just to stay alive.

It is precisely girls like Sara and other children at the school, the mothers of the cooperative and even Muday, who so far Africa’s transformation has passed by.

As I think back to Minister Gordhan’s reference to the transformation of a billion African lives, I truly believe that until we in Africa change our attitudes to the treatment of poor women and girls and encourage the Sara’s of this continent to be all that they can be, we cannot yet congratulate ourselves on Africa’s transition.

The World Economic Forum can be a powerful force in achieving this transformation if we all build on the strong intentions expressed in Addis last week.

Shining a light on Rose

April 30, 2012

By Kristine Pearson

Rose sits down to study on a worn out sofa in the corner of a tin shack at 7:00 pm each school night. After she’s helped with washing up and ensuring that the other 20 orphaned children she lives with have been fed, Rose begins her homework. Science, her favourite subject, gets an hour’s attention and she usually ends at midnight with English. At one time she hoped to become a teacher, but now, Rose imagines herself as a journalist. She wants to write stories about other people’s lives.  Her newfound confidence to some extent comes with age, she’s 14 now.  Yet it’s also the result of the marked increase in her grades.  A year ago when I gave her a solar light her scores totaled around 300.  They’re now 450. Disciplined for her age, with the light she’s increased her nighttime study time from 15 minutes to five hours.

In my long blog about kerosene last year, I told the story of Rose, who lost her parents and brother to a kerosene fire. Lucy Odipo, the founder and headmistress of Little Bees School in Nairobi’s Mathare Valley slum, became her guardian. The only possibility to study was to the inefficient and toxic flames of a tin can kerosene lamp that made her feel ill.  A Grade 7 learner, Rose understands the importance of education and good marks – it’s the path out of poverty and to one day securing a job.

I first met Rose four years ago and now she’s as tall as me (5’6”).  Well spoken,  yet still shy, she was recovering from typhoid.  It’s heartbreaking as there are far too many health, safety, security and educational issues that a child living in poverty has to contend with.

In addition to improved grades, Rose says that the solar light ‘doesn’t pain her eyes’ like the koroboi (kerosene lamp) did. Her light aids her in seeing to go to the toilet after dark instead of using a plastic packet. In this regard, the light helps preserve her dignity.

Situated next to a tributary of the heavily polluted Nairobi River, Little Bees is one of an estimated 1,600 community-supported informal schools in Kenya. A dumpsite that bordered the school has now been replaced by more shacks.  There’s an urban market garden on a small patch of ground that provides onions, potatoes, squash and other vegetables to the learners.

The school relies on donations from the impoverished community and support from well-wishers and NGOs, which have provided books, uniforms, toilets, a water faucet, a rainwater harvesting drum, and an over-sized cooking pot to serve a daily meal to the children.  It’s overcrowded; some classrooms are dark with mud floors. All leak when it rains. There are three classrooms on a second story divided by white plastic sheeting. Children shimmy up and down a rickety ladder.  Most of the teachers volunteer.  Every donation is appreciated and little is taken for granted.

Every time that I have visited Little Bees, there’s been a consistency that’s palpable. The children love attending the school.

The importance of lighting and communication

March 6, 2012

By Rhea Ranjan

What struck me about Lifeline Energy was more than the mere prospect of experience in marketing. It was the uniqueness in what the organisation focused on and aimed to achieve. It is a non-profit focused on dealing with unique issue of energy poverty in Sub-Saharan Africa as well as other regions in the world. It focuses on providing solar-powered and wind-up lighting and radios and MP3s to rural communities with the aim to provide safe lighting for daily activities, information, education and access to communication with the outside world.

Few understand the importance of light and communication. Instead the general ideas regarding development relate to the big in-your-face issues such as daily income levels, famine, etc. This is not to say these issues are not important. However while a large percentage of the world’s development resources focus on these issues, the attention given to the basic concepts of light and communication within a community is just not there. As Kristine Pearson (CEO) said to me while explaining Lifeline Energy, “You need to have been in the field and out there to see and understand what radio does. When a child can suddenly hear a radio programme and learn about things that she never even thought about. You have to see for yourself to see how radio completely opens up someone’s world.”

By opening up your world, Pearson refers to how many aspects of daily life the organisation can affect. By providing safe and efficient lighting products, the use of dangerous kerosene as a lighting fuel reducing the detrimental effects on communities caused by fires and inhalation.  This is a particularly common problem in poor countries.  Clean light also helps children study, boosting attendance and exam results. Such a simple plan has found a starting point to a solution required to achieve the UN Millennium Goals. Likewise, projects using radio have helped communities in several different ways, like bringing information to remote areas in the form of news as well as educational programs for healthcare initiatives. There’s a long running primary education programme in Zambia called ‘Learning at Taonga Market’ which improves education levels in communities.

The little girl who could

March 2, 2012

By Uzma Sulaiman

It’s one of the cardinal rules when you’re interviewing – detach yourself from the interviewee. Ask questions, take notes, but never get emotionally involved in the story. To put it simply, it isn’t professional to have a vested interest in the person’s life. I’ve always upheld this rule, that was until I met Nanjeke.

I first noticed Nanjeke at the back of the classroom at Moon City community school in Lusaka. She was well-mannered and exceptionally shy. When the teacher asked a question the other students squirmed in their seats hoping the teacher would pick on them, while Nanjeke would sheepishly raise her hand, copying the other students, but secretly hoping she wouldn’t be called upon. But there was no missing her – at just ten-years old Nanjeke was over five foot tall. In fact, she was already taller than me!

After class had finished I asked the teacher if I could speak to Nanjeke. She came over to me with her head bowed as if she had done something wrong. “So what’s your name?” I asked. Averting her eyes, she quietly responded: “Nanjeke. I’m sorry I just started school”.

Nanjeke lost both her parents when she was two to HIV/AIDS. At the time she was living in a rural area of Zambia. After her parents passed away she went to live with her grandmother. A few years ago, they moved to Lusaka to live with her uncle. It was then that she decided to take her future into her own hands.

“I told my grandmother I wanted to go to school after I saw all the other children going,” she says. With no money to afford school uniforms, supplies or the starting fee for Zambia’s “free” public school system, her family turned to the Moon City community school. The school was not far from her uncle’s house and a non-obligatory school uniform was provided along with school supplies.

It has now been a month since Nanjeke started at Moon City. She may be shy but her skills are developing.

After ten minutes of asking her questions and her timidly responding, she finallylifted here head when I asked what she wants to be when she grows up. She emphatically responded, “I want to go to university and become a lawyer. I know I can do this if I do well in school.”

Out of many children I spoke to during my time in Zambia, Nanjeke’s story stays with me. Although quiet, she chose a new path for herself at such a young age. I am confident that she has a bright future ahead of her.

Uzma was in Lusaka observing the Ministry of Education’s Learning at Taonga Market radio distance education initiative in action. Lifeline Energy has been providing solar and wind-up radios to ensure educational access to all Zambian children since the pilot project was launched in 1999. So far 900,000 children have benefited from the programme across Zambia.

Lifeline Energy’s Prime radios are being introduced to the programme.

Radio – My Most Trusted Friend

February 2, 2012

By Kristine Pearson in honour of World Radio Day

When I set-up Lifeline Energy (or Freeplay Foundation as it was known then) in January 1999 I was tasked with finding ways to get the first model hand-crank radios to rural Africans who didn’t have listening access. Although I had travelled widely across Africa, admittedly I was naïve when it came to radio. It didn’t take me long to appreciate the profound power and importance of radio in the lives of the poorest.

In early 1999 I received a hand-written airmail letter with beautiful Rwandan stamps addressed to ‘The Manager’ with the picture below.  The author, was a student intern working for an NGO in Rwanda.  She said that our wind-up radios, which had been donated by the British government, were of great benefit to helping “child-headed households”. This was the first time I’d heard that term.  The 1994 genocide having orphaned an estimated one million children meant that an entire generation could grow up without a parent.  HIV/AIDS, which was largely unknown before the genocide, was rapidly becoming a pandemic in the Great Lakes region expedited by widespread raping of women, further orphaning children.

I later went to Rwanda, and with the aid of a local charity – Refugee Trust – spoke to groups of children who headed households and had received our radios. Some were as young as nine and most were girls.  Nothing prepared me for this experience. The messages perpetrated by the now infamous hate radio stastion Radio Mille Collines were well known, but for those old enough it was never mentioned.

The photo Kristine received

These children were the poorest of the poor.  Destitute, their only clothes were the ones on their backs. Most slept on the ground. Many were malnourished and didn’t feel well. All had experienced unimaginable trauma and had responsibilities that no child should ever have to bear.  How they coped at all, I don’t know.

The children told me that they listened to their radios from the time they woke up until they went to sleep, if they slept at all.  They said that they were afraid of the dark and worried about soldiers coming. The voices on the radio made them feel safe after dark. Nearly every child said that what they wanted to listen to most was the news. Given the instability in the region at that time, they wanted to know what was going on in Rwanda and in neighbouring Congo where a fresh conflict was underway.

Their impressions of the genocide and what happened seemed to depend on what side of the genocide that their parents were on. In either instance, they revealed that they didn’t trust the adults around them and felt exploited. They said that the radio was “their most trusted friend”. At that time their favorite stations were the Voice of America’s Great Lakes Service and the BBC World Service.  Both broadcast in the local language of Kinyarwanda.

In addition to the news, they needed basic, practical advice that a parent or trusted adult would provide about hygiene, health, nutrition, cooking and farming and livestock care.  A soap opera drama called Urunana had begun broadcasting which included an orphaned family in the story line. Many said that they never thought that they would be rich enough to own a radio or to even buy batteries. They could listen any time because our radios could be wound up on demand.

Children gathered in groups of up to 20 to listen and discuss what they heard, helping one another. Francine, 15, said that winding up the radio made her feel important and it was like having a ‘magic box’.

A child-headed family with their radio

Mukakarimba, a 14-year old head of household told me that her most important possession used to be her goat.  Now it was her radio. Jean Paul, 13, said that without his radio he would have not known to wash his hands before eating and that he had to boil water before drinking it. Eriminata, 16  and the head of a household of five younger siblings, said that her radio was her ‘lifeline’. The name stayed with us.

Over the years I’ve been to Rwanda 35 times and have spoken to hundreds of children who head households.  It was where the idea for the Lifeline radio, the first radio designed for children living on their own and distance education was conceived. We’ve been responsible for the distribution of more than 16,000 solar and hand-powered radios in Rwanda reaching an estimated 300,000 listeners.

To those children who are poor and isolated, on-demand radio access is still their lifeline. Children cite Radio Rwanda and community stations as their favorites nowadays.  Rwanda’s radio waves are rich with programmes on farming, peace and reconciliation, livestock care, the environment and health.

Although the groups of listeners are smaller in Rwanda than in other programmes, such as those found in schools, the impact of radio is potent and positive. Children feel that they have information that they ‘own’ and that they can trust.

The challenges of growing up yourself while also trying to guide your siblings and provide them with life’s basic needs are incomprehensible. The most effective way that these children can consistently obtain the information they need to improve their situation, is via radio. We at Lifeline Energy recognise our responsibility to ensuring that these children have access to information and recommit ourselves to providing suitably powered radios to those who need them most.

Video didn’t kill the radio star: Thoughts from an Irishman in Rwanda

January 25, 2012

Written by Frank Reidy, a radio journalist and former Irish Army Major, in honour of World Radio Day.

Video certainly did not kill the radio star and the much vaunted demise of radio has just not happened.  Indeed radio, like cinema has flourished after the initial onslaught of television in the early sixties.  New media and new challenges face radio in a digital age and market dominated by the internet and web based solutions.  But for most of Africa and those in the developing world the transistor radio pressed to the ear is the ubiquitous image.

Frank Reidy

The high-minded model of radio espoused by the first Managing Director of the BBC John Reith: “educate, inform and entertain”, still has relevance in the era of commercial broadcasting and the public service model has survived into the digital era.  For most Africans the colonial and post-colonial era  radio stations such as the BBC World Service, Deutche Welle, Radio France, Voice of America provide services far beyond those any indigenous stations focused on.  Concepts such as fairness, impartiality and accountability were stressed in this public service ethos.  In the Cold War era radio was seen an intrinsic element of foreign policy with any development potential seen as a secondary spin off.

In the day to day struggle for survival in many parts of Africa, particularly rural Africa, Reithian concepts have little or no meaning. That does not mean the radio audience is not discerning and it recognises instantly what it likes to hear  and it knows what is good radio.  Like audiences elsewhere Rwandans love to hear themselves through their drama, music, debate and discussion.  The radio soaps neither patronise or preach but integrate into plots, sub-plots and character that which is most familiar: themselves.  With clever story lines agricultural advice is woven seamlessly into twice weekly episodes. Health advice is not pushed but is again part and parcel of the plot and debate, within the programme structure.  Debate and discussions rather than diktat is the preferred route.

But without radio receivers all the high quality programming in the world would just vanish into the ether.  The notion of having a radio in every room in the house, in the car or truck is a concept alien to so many Africans.  An old radio requires keeping it “fed” with batteries – a luxury beyond many.  The all-singing, all-dancing phone that is also a radio and MP3 player is a still a distant dream for so many.

Working in rural Rwanda in the years following the genocide I witnessed first hand the power of radio.  Radio was a force for evil in those terrible days of 1994. The then Government used the airwaves to foment hatred and division.  But radio could also be used to foster reconciliation, democracy and good governance.  The post-genocide generation now faced the HIV/Aids epidemic.  Child-headed households, with little or no state help or intervention faced a bleak future.  Both the local and international NGOs struggled to cope but with goodwill and much effort a corner has been turned.

Kristine Pearson instructing on how to use a solar and wind-up radio

It would be foolish to ascribe to radio any notion of being a panacea. But as part of an integrated model for development, radio has been a game changer on so many levels.  Small things make big differences.  Can you imagine a farmer not listening intently to accurate weather forecasts?  Health advice is listened to because it is a matter of life and death.

Then, to the radio itself.  The simplest is often the best and when you have it right make it better.  The wind-up technology Kristine Pearson showed me in a Kigali hotel back in 1999 has certainly moved on.  It was very good then and it is even better now.  And you don’t need focus groups or action plans to tell you the joy radio has brought to rural Rwanda.  I saw the reactions, I felt the joy and I know that the simple invention of the wind-up radio has achieved so much.

The challenges facing Africa are changing with its climate.  And radio in its many guises will have a key role to play.  Sure, the technology will change and the radio programmes will be cleverer and better.  But without radio that does not need to be fed with expensive batteries, it could all be in vain.  As they used to say here in rural Ireland:  “Turn it on and turn it up”.

During his 25 year military career Frank Reidy served in the Middle East with the UN and in Rwanda on secondment to GOAL, an Irish NGO. A graduate in Communications Studies from Dublin City University, Frank lectured in the Irish Military and on retirement was a researcher and reporter with the Irish state broadcasting company RTÉ. While serving as County Director Rwanda for Refugee Trust International in 1999/2000 Frank implemented a radio distribution programme in partnership with Lifeline Energy. The programme focused on child-headed households and widows of the Rwandan genocide.  Project Muraho in 2004/5 brought Frank back again to Rwanda. In partnership with Care International and Frangipani, 7,200 of Lifeline Energy’s radios were distributed.

Kerosene, a burning issue in women’s rights, human rights

October 2, 2011

By Kristine Pearson
CEO, Lifeline Energy                                                                                                 This is a “blong” – a long blog.

Like many girls I’ve met in Africa, Rose’s dream is to become a teacher.  The shy grade six student revises her homework at a rickety table in a tin shack in a Nairobi slum. A kerosene lamp fashioned from a can of bug spray called a koroboi in Swahili, allows Rose to study for a mere 15 minutes a night.  The light is inefficient and dim.  The fumes are noxious; the smoke ‘scratches’ her eyes.

She says that in the morning she ‘spits up black’.  She hates kerosene not only because it stinks and makes her feel tired and ill, but because six years ago her younger brother tipped over a koroboi, catching the house on fire killing her mother, father and brother.  To 13-year-old Rose, kerosene is the smell of death.

Unfortunately, stories like this are all too common in Africa.  Exposure to kerosene retards economic progress,  poisons children, causes deadly fires, horrific burns and injuries, and death.  This fuel is silently destroying the lives and livelihoods of countless women and children across Africa.

With an estimated 870 million people in sub-Saharan Africa, 85% have no access to electricity.  Much of the population straddles the equator where it gets dark at night and light in the morning around 6:30 each day.  In addition, many African houses are rough hewn from mud or aluminium and poorly ventilated. Seeing inside is difficult even in daytime.  Pit latrines are built away from houses and people don’t use them at night for fear of the dark, snakes, or being attacked.  Of the options available for lighting – kerosene, candles, firewood and batteries – kerosene is the most common.  And because it’s for household use, it’s a woman’s fuel – and woman and children bear the brunt of energy poverty

Nyeri, a 32 year-old former teacher from Kenya’s Great Rift Valley.  Nyeri barely survived the fire that started when a koroboi’s flame caught her skirt. She was eight months pregnant.  Living in a rural area, it took hours for her to be transported to a hospital, which was ill-equipped to deal with life-threatening burns.  In agonizing pain, Nyeri prematurely gave birth to a boy. Having no way to bond with or nurse the baby because burns covered half of her body, the baby died.  Badly disfigured, when she was well enough to return home her husband divorced her, kept her children and banished her to her parent’s faraway homestead.  When Nyeri’s parents passed away she was plunged into destitution and now depends on handouts to survive.

Masquerading as a benign fuel

There are an estimated 1.4 billion people globally who live without reliable access to electricity, and an additional 1.2 billion who live with intermittent electricity.  Yet the problem remains largely unknown in developed and electrified areas of the world.  The average Westerner can likely describe water and food issues that the poor struggle with.  We worry ourselves if the water we drink and the food we eat is safe. The same can’t be said for energy. Electricity for us is a flip of a switch.  The life threatening and profoundly challenging energy issues that the poor deal with every day are largely consigned to the periphery.

Wikipedia portrays kerosene as a diverse and relatively harmless fuel, used mostly to power jet-engine aircraft and rockets.  Although it briefly glosses over the fact that ‘at one time’ it was widely used in lamps and lanterns, it woefully fails to illustrate the scale of its use in developing countries, as well the devastating impact the use of kerosene has already had. It is sold to you and me in a sealed bottle with ‘caution’ and ‘highly flammable liquid’ on the label.  Oil companies and African governments do little to help educate consumers on how to use it safely or warn of its perils.

To Africans, kerosene, or paraffin as it is also called, is a necessary evil.  It’s sold informally in market stalls and is bought and stored in disused Coke, water or liquor bottles.  Women even buy it in flimsy plastic bags. 

In South Africa, based on national surveys and hospital records, between 1996 and 2001, it was estimated that 80,000 children ingested kerosene per year and 40,000 children developed chemical pneumonia from drinking it.  It is unknown how many children actually died, but in 2001, it was estimated to be 4,000.  I would imagine this number has been reduced given South Africa’s aggressive electricity drive over the past 10 years.  That said, what about the rest of sub-Saharan Africa that has nowhere near South Africa’s current 70% electrification, the highest rate on the continent.  The numbers could truly be staggering, but no one knows.  No one is counting.

Celestine, a 12-year-old girl in Rwanda told me that she swallowed kerosene a few years ago believing it to be clean water, something she’d never before seen.  Further, she said that she worries what internal harm was caused by the incident.

What I didn’t know at the time was that the accident may leave her with lifelong heart problems and respiratory ailments. She is lucky to be alive. Kerosene is a low-viscosity hydrocarbon and it is an aspiration hazard – which means that Celestine could have choked to death on the fluid itself or suffocated from the fumes emanating from her belly.  According to the American Association of Poison Control Centers, drinking kerosene can cause chemical pneumonitis, which requires several days or weeks on a respirator in a hospital and can become a lifelong, debilitating condition.  African mothers have told me that they give their children milk to drink, if they have some.

Spilling it on the skin can be equally as hazardous.  Women have proudly told me that they rub kerosene on their children’s heads rid them of lice.

Controlled kerosene fires recently undertaken by South Africa’s Paraffin Association revealed that it takes just two minutes for temperatures to reach 1000 degrees C and eight minutes for a corrugated tin shack to burn completely.  For shacks close together, it’s easy to understand why a fire spreads quickly. What chance do emergency services have, even if they are available?

With all the horrific outcomes caused by kerosene perhaps the most heart-breaking are burn injuries.  In South Africa alone, an estimated 15,000 children survive serious burn injuries every year.  This figure does not include the many fatalities or anyone over the age of 12.  Such statistics, however, are hard to come by even in South Africa.  If data were collected over the whole of Africa, this number would surely be staggering.

Burns are the worst type of injuries in terms of trauma because they are both excruciatingly painful and deforming.  Severe burns cause major harm to motor skills and development.  At present South Africa is the only African country that can deal with large numbers of burn injuries. Chris Hani Baragwaneth Hospital in Soweto, with its 2,964 beds, is the largest acute hospital in the world. With a specialised burn treatment centre, it also houses Africa’s most comprehensive burn unit. It has just 26-beds.  According to the hospital, most children admitted to the burn unit are under the age of nine.

With 46,000 kerosene-related fires and 50,000 paraffin-related burns sustained in South Africa in 2001 alone (the most recent data I could find), the availability of treatment is depressing.  According to Johannesburg’s Institute for Social and Health Sciences, burn injuries cost an estimated $US1 million in that city alone. Burn victims usually require multiple surgeries.  With the sheer number of kerosene related injuries coupled with medical costs these figures are almost certainly grossly underestimated. Add medical care to the cost of emergency services, loss of time, loss of assets and loss of a house by people who have no insurance, the true loss of using kerosene can never be justified and the true cost can never be calculated.

Hundreds of thousands of families have stories to tell like those of Rose and Nyeri who have suffered heartbreaking loss due to kerosene. They suffer in silence under the radar screen and no one is tracking them.  These stories should no longer be ignored or just accepted as unfortunate.  They should be seen as an outrage to the dignity of the human person.

Energy Access – a matter of human rights

Despite the enormity of the problem – and the existence of reliable, cost effective solutions – access to energy is a missing Millennium Development Goal.  Access to energy underpins all eight goals yet astonishingly there is no mention of the word ‘energy’ in the entire document.

In contrast, the International Energy Agency calls for “urgent action” on the matter, and estimates that alleviating energy poverty would cost $36 billion per year.  Kerosene sales, by comparison, create a $38 billion per year industry globally, an estimated $11 billion in sub-Saharan Africa alone.  In essence, the world is already spending the money it needs to address the energy poverty problem.

Energy access is a prerequisite to achieving the socioeconomic rights set out in international human rights law including health standards and access to clean water.  The right to breathe clean air, work and study in relative safety – all of these rights are violated by the need for fuel lanterns and cook stoves.

Given the overwhelming body of evidence, I believe kerosene is a blatant violation of international human rights standards.

Energy poverty and the gender bias

Since 1999 I’ve headed a non-profit social enterprise called Lifeline Energy.  Over the past four years while in the field in various African countries, I have spoken with hundreds of poor and vulnerable women and children about their household energy use and expenditure.  What was reinforced with every group I spoke with is that all technologies and the energies used to power them have a gender bias.  There are exceptions, but largely men are in charge of household security and buy batteries for their flashlights.  I knew from years of distributing Lifeline’s solar and wind-up radios that men also buy batteries for radios and control listening access.

In sub-Saharan Africa, kerosene is mostly a ‘woman’s fuel’. In rural areas a woman walks many miles to buy kerosene at the market. In urban settlements or slums, she buys it in as little as 10c increments or by the tablespoon. It may be all that she may be able to afford.  Because of women’s work inside the home, they are constantly exposed to kerosene and its toxic fumes.

The result is that more than 1.6 million of the world’s poor die each year from the effects of indoor air pollution, according to the World Health Organization (WHO).  This is caused from both cooking and lighting. This photo I took in Rwanda illustrates that if kerosene from a tin can lamp can blacken a wall, it is doing the same to lungs.

All forms of non-renewable energy – kerosene, batteries, candles, charcoal and firewood – constrain economic development.  When added to cell phone charging, fuels for lighting and cooking, energy can consume up to 60% of household incomes in sub-Saharan Africa.  Women are subjected to a grinding cycle of abject poverty, one that impossible to escape from it you’re spending big amounts on non-renewables.

Last year I went into a rural household and saw a mother happily nursing a two month old baby less than six inches from an open flame lamp at midday.  In her culture it is not acceptable to breastfeed where men might see you.  She had no idea what harm she could be causing her child.

She didn’t realise that breathing kerosene is the equivalent of smoking two packs of cigarettes, or that two-thirds of all lung cancer victims in developing countries are non-smoking women according to WHO.  One would think with its devastating consequences, kerosene related illnesses, burns and deaths would be tracked and monitored similar to HIV/AIDS, malaria and TB; however, this is not the case.  Well-known illnesses receive donor funding in poor countries whereas energy related illnesses are relegated to a footnote and fall into the non-communicable disease (NCD) category.

Safe kerosene education receives woefully inadequate attention from governments or the oil companies that sell it.  Comprehensive multi-media campaigns in local languages are urgently needed to encourage women to take advantage of alternatives where they do exist and to teach users ways to limit the health risks and exposure where possible.  This is especially important for children living on their own as heads of households.  They may lack trusted adults to guide them and adults themselves may not understand the range and scope of dangers.  School programmes should feature energy safety as a mandatory part of the curriculum.

Education advances are severely hampered by the way students must do their homework at night.  Kerosene burns the eyes and throat, making it impossible to study for more than a few minutes.  A record number of children are entering or returning to school in sub-Saharan Africa, yet an unintended consequence is that children are potentially harming their eyes and lungs, and even risking fires and burns, in an effort to earn good grades.

Thrusting clean energy to the top of the international agenda

The health and economic consequences of prolonged exposure to kerosene are so grave that they infringe upon the basic human rights of women and children who have no other viable energy alternatives. It is recognized in Article 25 (1) of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights that “Everyone has a right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and his family.”  Access to clean water has been singled out as a key factor that will determine the success of the Millennium Development Goals, but not access to clean energy

The United Nations General Assembly has passed a resolution declaring water and sanitation a basic human right, but not access to clean energy.

To propel access to clean energy to the forefront of the international agenda it must be declared a basic human right.  Declaring access to energy a human right reorganizes the lens through which the issue is viewed.  It becomes not merely a goal or agenda item, but a substantial imperative to which every individual is entitled.

The UN has declared 2012 as the International Year of Sustainable Energy for All. By launching UN–Energy, the UN states it is committed to ensuring universal access to modern energy services by 2030. It also aims to bring energy access innovation together with the correct policy to reach a global scale, developing and deploying new and appropriate solutions. These are important steps in the right direction and many ground-breaking initiatives are underway.  Progress on grid and mini-grid electrification projects has commenced, but they often take years to become operational with huge financial investments required.

Solutions already exist. Barriers to the effective delivery of modern energy services must be eliminated. Off-grid portable renewable energy solar LED lights and lanterns, as well as energy-efficient cook stoves have already been developed for these markets. However, often steep duties, as much as 40%, and taxes or VAT varying between 12% in Botswana to 19.35% in Cameroon, making them unaffordable to the poorest – those who need them most. With appropriate government oversight and financial support, reform of subsidies and duties and equal gender participation in entrepreneurial initiatives transitioning from kerosene to renewable energy would be the start to create safer environments and economic opportunities. Children, women, families and communities would be able to safely convert unproductive night-time hours into productive ones.

Kerosene and energy access are pressing human rights issues that governments and the international community are obligated to act upon with expediency to end the on-going struggle of women and children forced to use kerosene in their daily lives. There are many problems in the world that are extremely complex and difficult to solve. This is not one of them. With the right approach, the use of kerosene and the energy poverty that it perpetuates and intensifies can become a thing of the past.

From Writing To A Hands-On Approach

September 28, 2011

By Stephanie Schmitt, intern at Lifeline Energy

My background is in journalism, mainly old-fashioned print and magazines, and for the last two years I’ve been working online. In my journalism course we discussed journalism of attachment and compassion fatigue, all having read reports of journalists getting too involved, saving orphans in the midst of war and later being criticised for lacking professionalism crossing the line of the observer. So, why should we bother writing?

I’ve been an intern with Lifeline Energy – which works widely across sub-Saharan Africa – for two months now. When I started I had a vague idea of what NGOs and development work looked like. Once I dug deeper below the surface it was obvious I had no clue at all. In July Somalia was hit again by a devastating drought and famine forcing mainly women and children to cross the border into Kenya and join the Dadaab refugee camps. At first I thought that all refugees require is food, water, medicine and shelter, however, what happens next? Many Somali women and children have been born and brought up in the secluded shelter of the camps since the early 1990s. Once their most basic survival needs are fulfilled, women in refugee camps want to be informed about issues that are pertinent to their lives. It is not enough to spoon-feed a person in need; one needs to assist them in becoming economically independent. For women and children who have little or no voice in their society the access to trusted information is essential.

Through Lifeline Energy’s radios, groups of women and girls are able to listen to programmes on sexual and reproductive health, gender-based violence, women’s and children’s rights, agriculture, peace and reconciliation as well as news and current events on the Somali language station. The reports, statements of women and children from listening groups and primary schools showcase the reality of how a solar-powered and wind-up radio can change their future. Before this internship I was a newbie ambitious that my writing could at best inform and ideally enlighten the reader to change a current issue. I want to use my skills, old and new, to change the lives of people so they can embrace a better future for themselves.

Interning at Lifeline Energy, I have rediscovered my passion for work, with a hands-on approach that I lost since I graduated. I would like to thank the Lifeline Energy team for welcoming me into their world. Individually they shared their unique experiences in the field, working knowledge of fundraising, report writing, project management and the wide possibilities social media tools provide to development work.

Energy Poverty, Kerosene and Lifeline Energy

September 22, 2011

By Yannick Vuylsteke, intern at Lifeline Energy

I started interning at Lifeline Energy in May, after completing my Masters at SOAS. Having grown up in Africa and as the son of parents working in development, I thought that I had a pretty good grasp of what to expect and the issues I’d be working with, however, my time at Lifeline Energy has taught me that there is still so much I don’t know!

Before working at Lifeline Energy I was quite ignorant about the idea of energy poverty and viewed problems such as kerosene as a necessary evil on a continent that has no immediate solution to energy issues. I hadn’t realized the extent of energy poverty and how deeply it can affect issues such as health. I now know that solutions do exist, and I think the challenge lies in changing perceptions about how people affected by energy poverty view their lives. This can be done through providing them with sustainable access to information and education.

Another thing I’ve learnt at Lifeline Energy is how the simplicity of radio or light does so much more than what you would expect. It’s not just about being able to have on-demand access to information, or a light to study in the dark. It’s about the opportunity that these simple, clean solutions provide to improve people’s prospects and make better, more informed decisions about their daily lives. There is no doubt that access to clean, safe, sustainable energy should be a basic human right, and I think this is an urgent issue that Lifeline Energy is championing.

Africa is and should be for Africans, and it is them who should be making the decisions to drive them forward. I think the best thing we can do, and what Lifeline Energy does, is give them the tools and a platform for them to make better decisions, together, about their future.

I’ve always wanted to work with and for African countries, and Lifeline Energy has made me even more enthusiastic about this prospect.

What grad school doesn’t teach you

September 19, 2011

By Erin Roberts, intern at Lifeline Energy

I’ve been interning at Lifeline Energy for three months and so far it’s been an incredible learning experience.  I’ve learned more about how development occurs on the ground in two months than I did in a year of graduate school.  When I first started, I knew that much of sub-Saharan Africa was off the grid, but I hadn’t conceptualized what this meant for daily lives.  For example, I didn’t realize that millions are still lighting their homes and fueling their stoves with kerosene.  Kristine’s blog really highlighted the dangers of kerosene for me as well.  Some of the statistics about energy poverty are staggering.  The fact that some people are forced to spend 40 to 60 percent of their income on kerosene makes it impossible to break the cycle of poverty.  The gender dimensions of energy poverty are also sobering, as is women’s lack of access to information in many parts of sub-Saharan Africa, both of which Lifeline Energy addresses.

I was struck by how much the lives of young women were changed simply by having access to solar lights.  Access to radio also has a transformative effect on the lives of women and girls.  In one report I read, it was revealed that after forming listening groups, Somali women in Kenya’s Dadaab camps began talking about important issues like FGM and gender-based violence, which is the first step to stopping both practices.  In fact, some women reported that they had decided not to submit their daughters to FGM because of information they received through the radio broadcasts.  It hadn’t occurred to me that something as simple as a radio or a light could change people’s lives so much. It definitely hadn’t occurred to me that my own life would be transformed in the course of three months, but it has.

The team here at Lifeline Energy is amazing.  I’ve learned a great deal from each one of them and I would like to thank them for making my time here at Lifeline Energy enjoyable.

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