Category: Economic Development

Development for somebody else, by Alexander Öbom

July 4, 2019 /
Motorcycle-taxi driving: one of few new jobs in Kisoro district. Drivers often rent their vehicle from someone else, who can afford to buy it.

Alexander Öbom graduated from our international master program in cultural anthropology. His acrylic paintings presented here, inspired by local artistry, offers a unique way of representing and describing the field. His thesis is available online here

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Motorcycle-taxi drivers in the district of Kisoro, in southwestern Uganda, talk about “development” which takes place in their society, but which they do not perceive as their development. Rather, it is a development carried out by others, mainly for others, while these drivers and many other locals feel that they only get the leftovers from it all.

A small network of asphalt roads has been constructed in the district since 2007, and the place has become a tourist destination for a growing number of foreign visitors who travel to the area´s national parks to catch a glimpse of gorillas. Simultaneously, new service jobs, in hotels, shops and on motorcycles, have popped up.

During my fieldwork in the area, in 2017, many motorcycle drivers described how the new roads were constructed by foreigners, local businessmen or unspecified others. These roads were also sparsely trafficked, and mostly by trucks transporting goods and by tourists, rather than by locals. Evictions of local people from national parks and establishment of new hotels had benefited foreigners, while being largely disadvantageous to locals like these drivers themselves.

Motorcycles were imported from India on the new roads. The so-called ‘Boda Boda’ motorcycle-taxi system was often portrayed as one of all these leftovers – a poor job and a poor taxi service which had recently been established in the area instead of better jobs and transport alternatives, which were only available for people with lots of money. The purpose of my painted acrylic pictures is to illustrate these experiences visually without disclosing identities. These illustrations have given me the posibility of adding and combining issues from a large number of photos and also working with feelings that is rarely contained in a photo.

People in Kisoro had dreams and clear ideas about what they wanted, not seldom derived from information and inspiration reaching them through screens – on smartphones and TV:s – screens which made an external world which seemed to prosper very visible. But even if inspiration flowed into the area, opportunities did not follow. A real development should provide industrial jobs, replace subsistence farming, and eradicate poverty, in many Boda Boda drivers opinions, but this development had mostly brought economic inequality, and the relatively few and not very well paid informal jobs which it had provided for ordinary people, meant many households nonetheless depended on subsistence farming, as a complement to these jobs, with an ever-growing competition for the land, as a result. And most roads which locals used extensively, walking, or riding on a Boda Boda, between their farms and their jobs, were left unpaved and in poor condition. It all resembled scholarly descriptions of how various so-called developments in the global South have become very uneven in the era of economic neoliberalism (see, for example, Leys 2005:111-116).

Some people had worked as Boda Boda operators for about a decade, but when they started, they used bicycle-taxis, and motorcycles were rare. A few of them said the recent shift to motorcycles had had a negative effect on their personal economy, as motorcycles are more expensive to buy and to run. Their price implied that many operators instead had to rent their vehicles, and pay substantial weekly fees to the motorcycle owners. Although many saw the shift to motorcycles as a step toward modernity, and although most customers who I talked to portrayed it as a positive change, many drivers framed it as a bad one. Yet still as customers prefered motorcycles, drivers felt they had no choice but to use them. It has been contended that “the Boda Boda transportation system allows rural and remote populations to connect with a broader social and economic network” (Gamberini 2014), but many people in Kisoro district felt that these vehicles, as a result of economic restraints, had not provided them with much new mobility. Glorification of bicycle times was only one of many responses and examples of nostalgia which circulated. Other nostalgic stories were related to the recent shift from high quality mobile phones to low-quality budget phones, the district’s deteriorated fishing industry and the liquidation of the country’s public transport systems in favour of informal transportation. This resonates with anthropologist James Ferguson’s use of the term abjection, which refers to people feeling that they have lost something valuable in society which they had in the past (Ferguson 1999:237-238), and it resembles nostalgic feelings found in other African settings (Trovalla & Trovalla 2015).

It would be wrong to say that there existed only negative attitudes toward the transformations taking place – many people appreciated the recent changes – but ambivalence was common, and a feeling of being partially excluded from Kisoro’s development, partly included but in not so beneficial ways, were present among many. Unfortunately, this does not seem to be a very unique feature; as many scholars have pointed out, people in various places, not least in Africa, often feel somehow excluded from a modernity of others (Mains 2007, Utas 2003:151, 252). As Kisoro’s development seemed mostly focused on other people it was perceived as highly limited, but not only limited – in a sense that more of the same would be a solution – it was also perceived as a distorted form of development.

A lack of alternatives had brought many men to the motorcycle-taxi job, and as a result, drivers experienced evermore competition, which implied that they had to spend enormous amounts of time just waiting for customers, while simultaneously waiting for a development for them – which they hoped would come, eventually – rather than the development for somebody else, which they currently experienced.

Alexander Öbom has a background in journalism. He is currently a self-employed artist and a research assistant at the Swedish University of Agricultural Sciences (SLU). He has traveled extensively in Uganda and neighboring Rwanda during the last seven years.



Litterature

Ferguson, James 1999: Expectations of Modernity: Myths and Meanings of Urban Life on the Zambian Copperbelt. Berkeley: University of California Press

Gamberini, Gian Luca 2014. Boda Boda: The Impact of A Motorbike Taxi Service in Rural South Uganda. Helvedius Group of Columbia University.

Leys, Colin 2005 [1996]. The Rise and Fall of Development Theory. In Edelman, Marc & Haugerud, Angelique (eds.) 2005. The Anthropology of Development and Globalization: From Classical Political Economy to Contemporary Neoliberalism. Oxford: Blackwell.

Mains, Daniel 2007. Neoliberal Times: Progress, Boredom and Shame among Young Men in Urban Ethiopia. American Ethnologist 34:4, 659-673.

Trovalla, Eric & Trovalla, Ulrika 2015. Infrastructure as a divination tool: Whispers from the grids in a Nigerian city. City 19:2-3.

Utas, Mats 2003. Sweet Battlefields: Youth and the Liberian Civil War. Dissertations in Cultural Anthropology. Uppsala University.

Africa Today: The Legacies of Colonialism, by Henrietta Ezegbe

June 28, 2019 /

I960 often referred to as “The year of Africa” symbolized emancipation and a new dawn for the African continent. The Independence movement spread through the continent like wild fire, with seventeen countries on the continent gaining independence from Belgium, France and the British. Having just passed the semi centennial era, the legacies and residual effects of colonialism have persisted in nearly every sector of many of these “liberated” nations. European languages have been adopted as national and or local languages, Western religions have become mainstream reducing indigenous African religious practices to myths, while trade networks, education systems and governance infrastructure still remain deeply rooted in European dominance.

Evidence abounds indicating that most of Africa’s weaknesses nearly sixty years post independence are indeed rooted in the legacies of colonialism – a resultant effect of the general polity and colonial culture inherited by African elite nationalists. Ethnic division for instance is a strong case in point – from arbitrary borders ignorantly drawn up by colonists, to stressing the diversities of ethnic groups thereby igniting tribal rivalries that ensured different ethnic groups did not unite to resist the colonizers in a classic divide and rule approach. Furthermore, this ethnic separatist agenda intersected with governance leading to formation of political parties along ethnic lines that leaves opposition groups feeling marginalized and consequently developing ill feelings that resort in vicious conflicts. The Nigerian Civil war (Biafra war) of 1967-1970 and the Rwandan genocide of 1994 are a few examples. Africa’s commitment to these colonial borders drawn without cultural considerations- (manifested today as tribalism), together with religious extremism remains the driving force for violent wars and its grave costs and consequences on Africa’s development.

In spite of Africa “winning” the struggle for liberation from the alien dictatorship, political, economic, and other forms of exploitation of the continent has stayed on in the form of neo-colonialism. The idea of foreign aid is a foremost example. The belief that donor aid is Africa’s solution to poverty has sadly dominated the theory of economic development even though it is common knowledge that these interventions actually weaken political commitment and cause African states to be far less accountable to, and responsible for their citizens.

In the face of overwhelming evidence of the legacies of colonialism- past and on ongoing, the truth remains that Africa’s problems today are endogenous as much as they are exogenous. Endemic corruption remains a canker worm eating deep at the root of Africa’s development. With a vast sixty percent of the world’s uncultivated arable land, abundant natural resources, and a population projection of over three billion by 2050, it is time for African policy makers to stop pointing fingers and aim for total sovereignty. Championing brave and innovative strategies, investing widely in the health and education sectors, encouraging intra-African trade, and generally embracing a true spirit of Pan-Africanism is the way forward.

Dr. Henrietta Ezegbe is a physician and public
health practitioner. A fresh graduate from the Simon Fraser University Master
of Public Health Program in the Global Health concentration, Henrietta is
interested in HIV/AIDS research specifically among underserved population in
high and lower middle-income settings.

The ruins of a mining economy, by Danny Hoffman

May 16, 2019 /
  • Still from the film Uppland

 Around the 23-minute mark in the short film, Uppland, an unidentified voice speaks over a series of historical images of Yekepa, Liberia. Male and American, the speaker is presumably a former resident of the town. Yekepa was a LAMCO company town in Liberia’s Nimba Mountains, home to hundreds of the Swedish mining conglomerate’s employees. “Life was pretty nice there,” the voice says. “But you weren’t really living in a real world.”

 Edward Lawrenson and Killian Doherty’s short film is conceived as an archeological project, an excavation of the physical and psychic ruins of industrial mining in West Africa. Lawrenson, a Scottish filmmaker and writer, and Doherty, a Northern Irish architect, set out for Liberia after Doherty comes across photographs of Yekepa from the 1960s and 70s. Such images are not hard to find. Iron ore mining was a central pillar of Liberia’s post-World War 2 economy. Foreign mining giants like LAMCO, backed by the Liberian governments of William Tubman and then William Tolbert, rapaciously harvested the country’s reserves until the global price crashes of the 1980s. Today the detritus of company towns and massive iron ore pits litter northern and western Liberia. These ruins occupy a prominent place in the lives and memories of Liberians and non-Liberians who inhabited the mines and their supporting towns. The “pretty nice life” that iron ore mining made possible is a complicated and important thread in the story of Liberia. So, too, are the consequences of a political economy that so thoroughly shaped the “real world” of most of Liberia’s inhabitants.

  • Still from the film Uppland

Lawrenson narrates the film and describes the origins of both the town and the project, though fortunately he dispenses with the usual filmmakers’ journey and arrival tropes. The visuals are primarily scenes of ruins: abandoned industrial equipment and infrastructure; housing; and the terraced hillsides and massive pits carved into the mountains. The film’s 30-minutes are divided into four variously timed chapters. The first, Yekepa, is ostensibly anchored by the contemporary town. A small population still lives there, including at the gated campus of ABC University, a Bible college. Old Yekepa, the brief second chapter, is framed by a visit to the abandoned village of Yeke’pa. The Bible college’s carpenter happens to be a community leader among the population displaced by the mining operation, and he leads the filmmakers back to the village’s original site. New Yekepa, the third chapter, travels to the site to which the displaced were relocated. There the residents describe the inadequacies of their compensation and tell their own version of how geologist Sandy Clarke discovered the iron ore deposit and captured the mountain’s guardian spirit. The final chapter, Stockholm, briefly brings the film to the apartment of a retired couple who describe the suburban Stockholm aesthetic of Yekepa and the failure of the company to leave much of anything behind.

Each chapter weaves together historical still and moving images, on-camera interviews, and beautifully shot observational footage. Given that neither Lawrenson nor Doherty are ever named or made visible in the film (Doherty is simply referred to as “the Architect”), Uppland is surprisingly personal and reflexive. Lawrenson speaks frequently in the first person and includes both narratives and visuals that make the filmmaking process an engaging subplot. For example, the filmmakers cleverly include a few seconds of footage of Thomas, a young man assigned to keep an eye on Lawrenson, trying in vain to direct the action of people walking into and out of the camera frame. Uppland avoids most of the pitfalls of the narrated, exploitation documentary genre, its disembodied voice-over never becoming too authoritative, outraged, or self-indulgent—a rare achievement in this ever-expanding field.

  • Still from the film Uppland

The sum total of the film is nevertheless familiar. It is a galling portrait of the harvesting of African resources and the damage done to both land and people. The mountain that once housed the deposit is now a giant stagnant lake. New Yekepa appears as a soulless, impoverished, and somewhat embittered place. The Swedish retirees, meanwhile, are surrounded by a national museum’s worth of artifacts in their bright, comfortable looking apartment. And everywhere there are rotting husks of metal and concrete, useless now that the mine has closed.

Both visually and narratively, Uppland is too clever and interesting a film to stop at that. “Life was pretty nice there, but you weren’t really living in a real world” is a line that could arguably have been spoken by everyone in the film and everyone behind it. Certainly, this is true of the white foreigners who worked for LAMCO, who appear in their greatest numbers in swim trunks, splashing around in the company’s swimming pool. The Swedish retirees speak of their intentions to leave a sustainable economy at Yekepa, but “it’s a pity” is the best they can offer as commentary on the fact that they failed to do so. The American professor at the Bible college certainly seems to be having a good time, but his alienation from the “real world” around him is absolute. His earnest Old Testament history lesson about the disappearance of manna is deliciously apropos of the surrounding context but obviously lost on the man himself.

  • Still from the film Uppland

That the past was better but never real even for the Liberian residents of Yekepa is painfully clear in a conversation with two men named John, both former local employees of LAMCO. They fondly recall the town’s hospital, schools, and ice cream shops, all of which they claim made the residents of the town feel like they were “living in America” right there in the rainforests of northern Liberia. But they are unreliable narrators. One of the Johns describes the perfect racial harmony and integration of Yekepa, but there are no black bodies in the swimming pool images; a line of school children shows whites in the front and blacks in the back; and footage of a white Swede tending his vegetable garden is contrasted to a young Liberian houseboy stripped to the waist mowing the lawn.

The ruins of Yekepa make everyone look to the past and complicate their relationship to the real present. The residents of New Yekepa implausibly claim that their lives today would be better if only they hadn’t lost the written resettlement contract Clarke gave them when he forced them to move. And as the film abruptly ends, audio clips of President Tubman’s 1962 speech to LAMCO employees extol the virtues of mining, celebrating the company’s commitment to exploiting a wilderness inhabited only by spirits and bringing both wealth and civilization to Liberia’s upplands. The visuals, of course, are of a scarred landscape and still, rusting machinery.

In the film’s penultimate moment Lawrenson describes being approached by security guards as he filmed those ruins. It is cutting testament to the slippery unreality of memory and hope when they ask if he is here to restart the mine. Lawrenson smartly spins the encounter into a comment about his own position; the filmmaker must pack up and depart for Europe before he can engage them in meaningful dialogue, taking away the richness of his film and leaving them with their disappointment and their ruins. But the moment is more poignant than that. Rising world iron ore prices have led a number of multinational companies to revisit Liberia’s abandoned mine sites, and iron ore now accounts for about 30% of Liberia’s foreign export earnings. Small enclaves of foreign workers are building new company towns that are largely off-limits to local residents, who continue to inhabit the ruins of the old company towns. New mining equipment and infrastructure is being imported to do the work, much of it less dependent on human labor and therefore even less dependent on the “real world” of the people who live around it.

What kind of ruins this new mining economy will leave, and how they will be remembered, will no doubt be the subject of a film to come.

Danny Hoffman is Associate Professor of Anthropology at University of Washington.
This text originally appeared on the blog Africa is a country

The myth of the trickle-down effect: What Guinea’s recent upheavals intimate about the country, by Joschka Philipps

March 3, 2017 /

The dry season’s dust has again settled on Conakry’s streets, aside from a few marks of ashes and rubble on the sides of the main avenues, everything seems to be back to the bustling normal. Just about ten days ago, things looked quite different in the Guinean capital. On February 20th, a nation-wide general strike in the education sector culminated in violent demonstrations, which took the government by surprise. Seven people were shot dead by state forces, thirty were injured and a dozen arrested, numerous vehicles were burnt, and a gas station and a police commissariat were pillaged. Though Conakry has experienced plenty of similar events during the past decade, there are a number of reasons not to write this off as simply another instance of urban violence. Continue reading

Governing the world ‘as if’ it counts, by Morten Jerven

August 15, 2016 /

The most challenging notion to take on board in the governance of today’s world is that not all that counts can be counted. We increasingly rely on numbers as shortcuts to information about the world that we do not have time to digest.

The name of the game is governance “as if” the world counts. It might be a smart shortcut sometimes, but we are in deep trouble if we forget that we are doing it “as if” the world counts. Leadership should take making good decisions seriously. If the method by which we get knowledge and the method by which we make decisions is limited to what can be numbered, we are setting up a system of governance that’s systematically getting stuff that actually counts wrong. Continue reading

Poor Numbers: The Politics of Improving GDP Statistics in Africa – By Morten Jerven

September 30, 2013 /

Last week African Arguments published a story that Prof Morten Jerven, author of ‘Poor Numbers: How We Are Misled by African Development Statistics and What to Do about It’, had been blocked from presenting his research on African statistical capacity at the UNECA. This was due to opposition to his ideas from, notably, the South African Statistician General, Pali Lehohla. The speech Jerven intended to give to the UNECA can be read here. Morten Jerven responds below.

Discussing economic statistics and GDP estimates of African economies is clearly important, but it’s also sensitive. Pali Lehohla and his self-proclaimed union of ‘African Statisticians’ are allied in a self-defeating campaign.

My book Poor Numbers has created an unprecedented argument for investing in the statistical capacity of African countries. Why would Lehohla and his silent supporters go against this? The answer is simple. Pali Lehohla and his counterparts are doing well in the current system. Any change to the status quo in the political economy of statistics in Africa is considered a threat.

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Fair investments? Swedish Governmental funds, land grabbing and human rights in Sierra Leone, by Tilde Berggren

May 23, 2013 /

According to a number of local and international NGO’s, journalists and researchers monitoring the situation on the ground, the large scale investment in Sierra Leone between Addax Onyx Group (AOG) and Swedfund, as well as a range of additional investors, is causing concern. The main concern is that the investment is contributing to poverty, decreased access to basic rights and may increase instability and anger amongst the local population. Swedfund is dismissing the concerns, arguing that the monitoring of the situation is sufficient and emphasizes that the project is in its start-up phase and it is therefore too early to measure impact. However, those monitoring the situation are many and conclusions based on their monitoring are coherent and consistent and can therefore not be dismissed.

Swedfund is defined as a bilateral Development Finance Institution, it is a development finance institution owned by the Swedish State. In 2011 Swedfund signed an agreement to become equity partner with Addax Onyx Group (AOG), committing EUR 10 million to an investment in Sierra Leone. Sweden contributed to create the largest private sector agriculture investment in Sierra Leone ever made. The purpose: to grow sugarcane and produce ethanol for the European market. The Swedish Government and Swedfund claims to be committed to comply with principles for businesses and human rights and to ensure that investments and aid contributes to ensure respect for human rights.

It is more a rule than an exception that  negative impacts on the lives of ordinary people of large scale investments are ignored. In the majority of cases it is those that have  access to information and the financial capital that are taking the lead in exploitation of natural resources while working for governments and multi-national corporations.

It is not unusual that businesses invest in conflicts and post-conflict affected areas where no or few accountability mechanisms exist and where corruption is the norm. To meet the rising demand for accountability of corporations, principles have been developed by international organizations such as the United Nations and the World Bank. The idea to ensure that the corporations be held responsible to some kind of reasonable standards in their pursuit of financial capital is good.

Because of the complicated nature of domestic and international law and the way it relate to multi-national corporations, an alternative to strict legal accountability has taken shape in non-binding international standards. These principles are non-enforceable and may in some cases rather hamper accountability and access to justice in countries without proper accountability mechanisms than helping to support them. Investment agreements may pave the way for abuse and violations of human rights provide huge financial gains for international investors and a select few of national political and economic elite.

It is the State that has the responsibility to protect its population against human rights abuses by third parties, such as corporations. It is important to distinguish the responsibility of States and corporations. States ratify legally binding conventions, meaning that they have a legal responsibility to respect and protect human rights. Corporations are merely legally bound by the agreement they have entered, be it with a state, another corporation or an individual. Corporations are bound by the domestic laws governing the state where they establish their business. Even if corporations are bound to “respect” human rights, as established in non-binding UN Human Rights Council and General Assembly resolutions, this is not, to date, a legal responsibility under international law, rather a moral and ethical responsibility.

A State does not violate its human rights obligations if proper accountability mechanisms, such as laws, policies and procedures for investigations, prosecution in a court of law and effective legal remedies, are implemented and enforced. In cases of human rights abuses committed by corporations, it is the responsibility of the State to prevent, punish and compensate when abuses occur, corporations are not attributed such authority.

It is not unusual that long term agreements are entered into between States and multi-national corporations. A corporation may declare in an agreement and in its general corporate social responsibility strategy that it intend to apply international non-binding standards such as the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights. A corporation may apply the processes established in these international principles and follow the standards in detail. Yet, the agreement between a State and a corporation may have severe impact on the human rights and lives of large numbers of people unless domestic standards and mechanisms exists to hold corporations responsible for abuse..

When corporations lease large areas of land, people that remain on the land can in the best-case scenario agree to limited or no possibility to continue using their land for income and food generating purposes. They might stay on the land without being able to use it or they might leave. They might also be offered to start working for a corporation if such possibilities arise. This often happens under unpredictable and dire working conditions and lack of alternatives to income makes it hard to opt out.

Take the example of the above mentioned private investment in Sierra Leone between Addax Bioenergy and the Government of Sierra Leone. Addax have leased 44 000 hectares of land, equivalent to 26 000 soccer fields from the Government of Sierra Leone. The land lease agreement is valid for a period of 50 years. 92 villages exist on the leased area, which is inhabited by approximately 14 000 people. Around 2000 work opportunities is estimated to have been created the past four years for these 14 000, 4000 were promised so far.  The people living on the land are paid an average of 8 dollars per 1 hectare and family a year.

The overall lease agreement is entered into between Addax and local Chiefdom Councils. The lease sets out how, amongst other issues, the rent of the lease will be distributed between the central government, the chiefdom council, the local district council and amongst ”those adults treated as land owners”, (which means those people inhabiting the leased land). These adults are not legal land owners of the land; since they according to the laws governing Sierra Leone cannot own land. The Chiefdom Council agrees, in the lease, to “use their best endeavors” to ensure that the lease is signed.

The local land owners were also given a document called an ”acknowledgement agreement” in which they by receipt of an annual payment of 1.40 USD per acre of land, to be shared amongst family, acknowledged the validity of the lease agreement between the local authorities and the corporation.

In return the “landowner” agreed not to interfere with the company’s rights under the lease and they acknowledge the company’s rights to use their plot of land. The signing by the “landowner” on behalf of his family consolidates the free, prior and informed consent process, according to the corporation. The lease gives the corporation exclusive possession over villages, rivers, forests etc. that forms a part of the leased land.

If any conflicts arise on the lease they shall be resolved by arbitration in London, hence not by the national judicial system of Sierra Leone. Knowing the costs involved in arbitration, the chances that any local authorities, would contest any clause in the lease by arbitration in London, are extremely slim. If, however, the parties resort to arbitration, the right to appeal is waived by the lease agreement.

Keeping the above in mind, the process establishing the above lease and “acknowledgement agreement” has beencarried out in accordance with established principles by the United Nations on business and human rights and IFC standards. A large number of information sessions were held with the inhabitants of the land and the corporation. Several evaluations and assessments were made by the corporation. The corporation feels proud to inform that now, contrary to before, the land owners have a paper showing their registered plot of land. Note however the land owners are not the “owners” they are just called “owners”.

It must be stressed that the majority of the inhabitants in the staked out area have very low, if any education, and often they have not travelled further than to the district town Makeni. The majority of the people in the area live beneath the poverty line. This means that they barely have food for the day. When signing, or putting their thumbprint on the acknowledgement agreement, they could not grasp the large scale implications. The agreement was already established by their own local authorities. They received less than two dollars a year per acre for land they had farmed and resided on for generations.To them, giving up access to their cassava plantations and the use of a plot of land in exchange for the promises of a large scale investment most likely came with the idea of progress towards a better life. In their world, when the notion of jobs, roads, income, food, education and health arise, it is not difficult to sign such a document. However, they also knew that they did not have a choice, on their behalf, the local authorities had already leased the land and, as noted in the lease agreement ”used their best endeavors to ensure that the lease would be signed” and that the corporation be ensured to ”peacefully and quietly” enjoy the land without any interruption.

It is argued that benefits will come with the investment, but despite these, what the land lease agreement between the Government of Sierra Leone and Addax really implies is that 14 000 people no longer have rights to use the land, freely access areas to hunt and in some cases access clean water. They do however have access to rice. The corporation has established rice plantations. There are growing concerns by local NGOs that rice does not sufficiently ensure the nutrition needs of the inhabitants.

Hesitation to sign the acknowledgement agreement might have arisen if the inhabitants of the land had equal access to information and knowledge as the corporation and the Sierra Leonean Government. But for a person living far away from international business know-how it is virtually impossible to strategically understand the financial and long term implications of the agreement.

Perhaps they would have thought twice, questioned or demanded conditions had they had equal access to information. This is where the Government of Sierra Leone should have stepped in, to ensure that the human rights of the inhabitants of the land were protected. But the Government  did not. The Government was the party that signed the lease agreement. The basic livelihood of 14 000 citizens was with a signature replaced with uncertain futures, as temporary laborers, at the whims of a large-scale investor with limited socio-economic concerns for the population. Surprisingly those working for the company and investors, such as the Swedish Government appear to have a very hard time understanding why the inhabitants now complain about the establishment of the corporation.

Without doubt the people did not have access to information about the overall consequences of the agreement. They did not know the implications of the clauses stipulating that Addax Bioenergy do not need pay corporation tax until 2022 and is exempted from paying duty on a number of goods and the overall implication of this on Sierra Leone. What if they knew that international firms shift profits to lower tax jurisdictions cost Africa $38bn (£25bn) a year? According to the Africa progress report 2013, by the Africa Progress Panel chaired by Kofi Annan, Africa lose through such tax loopholes, twice as much as the total gains from all donor funds. Perhaps there would have been hesitation in signing? Had it been that Sierra Leone was a country where abuse of power was not common, had Sierra Leone not been governed by a system of complex local and central power structures, in which high levels of corruption exist, had they known that research indicates that prospects of a better life increase only for those already having a good life when these kind of investments are made, perhaps they would not have signed any agreement.

Perhaps the inhabitants would have questioned the consequences for their country, for themselves and for the coming two generations. Perhaps they would have demanded that any conflicts between Addax and the Government of the lease agreement be settled in a local court where they could access justice, instead of in a court of arbitration in London. What will happen when the illusions of newfound prosperity fades and the 14 000 people start requesting for the indications of a better life they had when they signed the agreement?

Anger against corrupt local leaders was part of fuelling the conflict in Sierra Leone. Thus, feelings like those existing before the war may again arise. Increased malnutrition, lack of water and food may create cleavages between local communities and ethnic groups. Signs of anger and protests against the corporation have already occurred. People are starting to question the agreements they signed. . The corporation, the investors, the Sierra Leone government are justifying the situation by referring to compliance with international principles established for human rights and business. Addax Bioenergy followed many existing principles of corporate social responsibility. However, fairness and equality in access to knowledge and information did not exist. If the Government of Sierra Leone does not represent the people then investing countries like Sweden must step in and take responsibility. It is not justifiable to support investments in a country when accountability systems are not in place, corruption is known to be rampant and human rights violations are not tackled by the state.

The Africa Progress report 2013 released 10 May, indicates that the establishment of corporations may improve the overall financial situation of a country, but not the situation of the poor; instead they rather tend to increase the gap between poor and rich.

According to the United Nations Special Rapporteur on the right to food, countries with weak land governance increases the risk of large-scale land deals turning in to actual “land grabs” where free, prior and informed consent of affected communities is not sought and human rights violations often occur.

Evidence shows that few jobs are created by biofuel-related investments relative to other sectors and where small-scale farming is replaced by large-scale and heavily-mechanized monocultures. Many of the former land users’ end up jobless and landless according to the Special Rapporteur.

The case of Sierra Leone, supported by the Swedish Government’s aid scheme and implemented by Addax bioenergy is justified by compliance with the processes stipulated in the principles for business and human rights.. What is not noted by the Swedish Government, the Government of Sierra Leone and Addax is that compliance with international standards for businesses and enterprises, does not exclude responsibility for human rights. States must comply with legally binding human rights law. There should be a scrutiny of the ways corporations and donor countries use the principles of human rights. States with natural resources must be held accountable for allowing investments, prone to result in human rights abuses, establish when legal conditions and accountability mechanisms does not exist. Corporations and donors must take moral and ethical responsibility. Responsibility cannot be avoided by hiding behind processes established in principles of business and human rights.

Tilde Berggren is a human rights lawyer having worked the past eight years with policy development at the United Nations headquarters in New York, including with the High Commissioner for Human Rights and the Special Advisor on Gender Issues, with human rights monitoring and reporting in the UN Mission in Sierra Leone and with Civil Rights Defenders in Kosovo and Macedonia.

According to a number of local and international NGO’s, journalists and researchers monitoring the situation on the ground, the large scale investment in Sierra Leone between Addax Onyx Group (AOG) and Swedfund, as well as a range of additional investors, is causing concern. The main concern is that the investment is contributing to poverty, decreased access to basic rights and may increase instability and anger amongst the local population. Swedfund is consistently dismissing the concerns, arguing that the monitoring of the situation is not sufficient and not carried out in detail, hence not trustworthy and does not illustrate the overall situation. Swedfund on their side emphasize that the project is in its start-up phase and therefore it is therefore too early to measure impact. However, those monitoring the situation are many and conclusions based on their monitoring are coherent and consistent and can therefore not be dismissed.

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