A Shoulder to Cry On?

Eddie and Sue Arthur have posted a quote reflecting a common perspective on development and missions in Africa, which basically blames expatriates for "wanting to fix things" rather than being supportive. In part, the Kenyan pastor says,

Now it’s a great thing about Americans; the ability to innovate and to resolve problems. The downside of that is that when you come to our context, you don’t know how to live with our problems. you see our poverty. You see our need. You see the places we’re hurting. And you have a great compassion to come and solve us, but life can’t be solved that way. Many times well-intentioned Americans will come into our context and they try to fix my life. You can’t fix my life! What I need is a brother who comes and gives me a shoulder to cry on and gives me a space to express my pain, but doesn’t try to fix me.

This hits me at two levels. First, having lived in Nigeria for over 20 years and seen some of the useless or negative effects of "help," I can appreciate the sentiments of the writer. Development is not simple or easy in any context, and is very difficult in cross cultural contexts. I do not want to minimize the fact that many of us come to Africa and fail to empathize, or we live as outsiders. That's a problem I myself have faced. So yes, we need to hear this criticism and take it to heart.

On the other hand, this kind of attitude ("don't try to fix our problems") drives me crazy. One of the most common questions we get asked is, "What's wrong with Africa? Why has it not made the kind of progress other areas have made." That's not a simple question, either. Although it's a generalization, it think it is a more-or-less fair one.

I think one of the reasons for this failure is characterized by the author's approach: "You can’t fix my life! What I need is a brother who comes and gives me a shoulder to cry on and gives me a space to express my pain, but doesn’t try to fix me."

Mmm, OK. That's valid in a way. But if that's what is really desired, then please don't ask people like me -- an American doctor -- to come to Africa. We want to fix things. We want to stop kids from dying unnecessarily because a corrupt government or church steals the money meant for water and vaccines. We want to stop the nurses from sleeping in the ICU while children die under their noses. We want to point out that killing someone of another religion is not right, but we get told "you don't understand our culture."

Yes, I feel for your loss of your child. I'm not only saddened by the loss but by the knowledge that it was unnecessary. I'm angry that children continue to die because problems are not fixed but only bemoaned. I do sense the futility and powerlessness--another child lost, and nothing you as poor farmers or slum dwellers can to to impact the institutions that entrap you, or the network of fatalism and ignorance that imprisons you. In fact, it was partly my inability to handle that burden that led to my burnout and eventually leaving medicine. I admire those who manage to adapt and handle the load creatively for much longer than the 17 years I did.

So if you want a shoulder to cry on, and only that, and you say you need someone who "doesn't try to fix me," then please seek a different kind of missionary or development worker.  Start by looking for someone who has a high tolerance for failure rather than a drive to make the world better, and someone who is better at hugging than at  confrontation.

Note: please note that this quote is taken from a blog post, which cites it as "Pastor Oscar Muriu from Mission’s Dilemma, quoted in We Are Not the Hero by Jean Johnson (p.12)." It's thus now a third hand citation. I haven't read either book, nor the context of the quote, and may have missed the point. However, I'm responding not so much to this specific instance as to a the general idea, which has been expressed elsewhere.