You said it was ‘The Water Section’?
By Ken Gibbs
The staff of UNICEF, Bangladesh numbered well in excess of 300 as it was one of the largest programmes of support that UNICEF operated at that time. Interestingly, UNICEF globally had difficulty seeing the engineers as equal partners in the operation and for many years. This meant that office accommodation was on the first floor in a separate building, with ill-lit stairs and streaks of red paan in the corners.
As the Head of Section, I was accorded a separate room where the walls showed fungus from the monsoon moisture. Secretarial support came in the guise of Mr Badruzzaman, who had impeccable manners. He made the most dreadful tea which I always thanked him for, but which worked as an admirable drain cleaner for the basin. Mr Badruzzaman was fiercely protective of his typewriter which had seen service through many generations. It had a number of letters which printed skew, but I had to wait till he left the office before I could tackle the machine with a pair of pliers to correct the tilt to those letters which offended me.
UNICEF, Dhaka, received many, many visitors, including those who wanted to persuade UNICEF to consider helping them outside the remit of government. Some of the national NGOs in Bangladesh did exceptionally fine work like ICDDR(B), BRAC, VERC and others.
There was the fascinating Economics Professor from Chittagong University, who stalked the corridors of UNICEF, seeking whatever he could extract to further his project. One day, probably in 1983/84, there was a knock on my door and Professor Yunus asked if I was busy? I asked Mr Badruzzaman to see if he could rustle up some tea for our visitor. While that was going on, I quietly warned the Professor that the tea might not be completely to his liking. . . and he shed his chappals and sat cross-legged down on the sofa and at ease. Asking him what I could do for him, he wondered if I could see my way to giving him – for the Grameen Bank – 5,000 handpumps? Now if ever you want a conversation stopper, this is it.
UNICEF, at that time was still providing the government some 50,000 handpumps every year, but the numbers were agreed between UNICEF and The Planning Commission and jealously guarded. Trying to hide 5,000 was more than my post was worth. I pointed this out to him, but as he had done outstanding work, I said that I could probably ‘lose’ 20 handpumps (which I could pay for out of my own pocket if it became necessary). He would provide these pumps to women who would use their loans to pay for the equipment; he also would show me over what period the loans would be repaid, and on what produce. With that, I would have ammunition to lay before the Planning Commission when it came to the next programme agreement.
He left with a knowing smile on his face, as he probably got exactly what he wanted. Just short of a year later, there was a knock on my door with the Professor wanting to leave the information about the 20 handpumps before having to run to another meeting. It was a stained piece of paper, written on with different pencils and ball points, but it gave all the details of each pump. Astonishing. All the pumps were owned by women, and they all had provided water to vegetable gardens which gave a continuing income after the repayment, just as he had hoped.
Move on to 2006: I was listening to the radio in my car, waiting for Mary to finish shopping (I don’t go shopping as I always choose the wrong products). The music was interrupted for the hourly news bulletin. When Mary got back to the car, I announced to her that Professor Yunus and The Grameen Bank had just been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.
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