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Authors: Jacqueline Novogratz
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by UNICEF's vans in order to arrive at work before the starting time of 7:30 a.m. There is a 2-hour break for lunch, when everyone is transported to and from their neighborhoods to eat at home, and then the vans drive everyone a fourth time at the end of the day-back to their neighborhoods once work ends at half past five."
It seemed like a lot of driving, but I had already observed that there were few restaurants and no fast-food shops. Public transportation didn't serve certain areas, and all but the very elite lacked private vehicles. Getting workers back and forth was therefore an essential priority.
Boniface walked me upstairs to meet the director of UNICEF's Rwanda office, Bilge Ogun Bassani, a powerful, elegantly dressed Turkish woman with a dazzling smile and a solid handshake. We discussed the job I was there to undertake: determining whether a credit system for women was feasible and, if so, helping to design a financial institution for women. UNICEF would pick up most costs and provide me with an office and drivers.
Bilge was a trailblazer in that she understood that the power of an institution like UNICEF could provide legitimacy to a new effort while also giving me as a "consultant" all the flexibility I needed to be entrepreneurial.
"I want to do something for the women here," she said. "Women are too often neglected, and yet it is through them that we can best reach the children." She also understood women's need to earn income if they are to make more and better decisions. I liked her.
Bilge directed me downstairs to my new desk, and though I was again in a new place, for the first time in Africa, I began believing that somehow-maybe-I'd finally found a home.
After introducing myself to the colorful, quirky, international staff in the office, I called Veronique, the woman who had invited me to Rwanda in the first place. After a quick hello and how do you do, she breathlessly began listing people I should meet for my study. My French had improved, but still I understood only about half of what she was saying. The difference this time was that instead of feeling intimidated, I felt a yearning to be better, and an ease in asking for clarification when I needed it. We were off to a good beginning.
I've always started new undertakings with a delicious sense of excitement. The terms of my contract were simply to determine whether some kind of financial institution for women was needed and feasible. To me, the question seemed superfluous. This was a country where women comprised half the population, yet had no access to banking facilities. Of course a financial institution focused on poor women was needed. The real question was what it would take to make the institution real. My plan was to talk to as many people as I could, learn as much as possible, and then just start building. The work would teach us what was feasible and what was not. Of course, I didn't tell anyone this was my ultimate plan; it didn't make any sense to get everyone's hopes up and not follow through with action.
First step: endless phone calls and meetings. Veronique recommended key people to meet in the economic sector as well as the country's only three women parliamentarians, Prudence, Constance, and Agnes, whose last names I couldn't pronounce.
As I sat at my desk dialing the phone and speaking my still-middling French to assistants all over Kigali, one of UNICEF's expatriates invited me to a dinner that evening at the home of a French couple in town. In Kigali's tiny expatriate community, newcomers were always welcome for a change of pace. I accepted gladly in a spirit of having another adventure.
Given the humble character of Kigali itself as well as the simple exteriors of its houses, I was surprised by the mix of luxury and sophistication I saw at the dinner party. The walls and floors of the impeccably decorated house were covered with Persian rugs and African tapestries. One woman wore a blue taffeta skirt; and all came
It seemed like a lot of driving, but I had already observed that there were few restaurants and no fast-food shops. Public transportation didn't serve certain areas, and all but the very elite lacked private vehicles. Getting workers back and forth was therefore an essential priority.
Boniface walked me upstairs to meet the director of UNICEF's Rwanda office, Bilge Ogun Bassani, a powerful, elegantly dressed Turkish woman with a dazzling smile and a solid handshake. We discussed the job I was there to undertake: determining whether a credit system for women was feasible and, if so, helping to design a financial institution for women. UNICEF would pick up most costs and provide me with an office and drivers.
Bilge was a trailblazer in that she understood that the power of an institution like UNICEF could provide legitimacy to a new effort while also giving me as a "consultant" all the flexibility I needed to be entrepreneurial.
"I want to do something for the women here," she said. "Women are too often neglected, and yet it is through them that we can best reach the children." She also understood women's need to earn income if they are to make more and better decisions. I liked her.
Bilge directed me downstairs to my new desk, and though I was again in a new place, for the first time in Africa, I began believing that somehow-maybe-I'd finally found a home.
After introducing myself to the colorful, quirky, international staff in the office, I called Veronique, the woman who had invited me to Rwanda in the first place. After a quick hello and how do you do, she breathlessly began listing people I should meet for my study. My French had improved, but still I understood only about half of what she was saying. The difference this time was that instead of feeling intimidated, I felt a yearning to be better, and an ease in asking for clarification when I needed it. We were off to a good beginning.
I've always started new undertakings with a delicious sense of excitement. The terms of my contract were simply to determine whether some kind of financial institution for women was needed and feasible. To me, the question seemed superfluous. This was a country where women comprised half the population, yet had no access to banking facilities. Of course a financial institution focused on poor women was needed. The real question was what it would take to make the institution real. My plan was to talk to as many people as I could, learn as much as possible, and then just start building. The work would teach us what was feasible and what was not. Of course, I didn't tell anyone this was my ultimate plan; it didn't make any sense to get everyone's hopes up and not follow through with action.
First step: endless phone calls and meetings. Veronique recommended key people to meet in the economic sector as well as the country's only three women parliamentarians, Prudence, Constance, and Agnes, whose last names I couldn't pronounce.
As I sat at my desk dialing the phone and speaking my still-middling French to assistants all over Kigali, one of UNICEF's expatriates invited me to a dinner that evening at the home of a French couple in town. In Kigali's tiny expatriate community, newcomers were always welcome for a change of pace. I accepted gladly in a spirit of having another adventure.
Given the humble character of Kigali itself as well as the simple exteriors of its houses, I was surprised by the mix of luxury and sophistication I saw at the dinner party. The walls and floors of the impeccably decorated house were covered with Persian rugs and African tapestries. One woman wore a blue taffeta skirt; and all came
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