Small scale philanthropy: does it work?

According to Wikipedia, the word philanthropy means “the act of donating money, goods, time, or effort to support a charitable cause, usually over an extended period of time and in regard to a defined objective. In a more fundamental sense, philanthropy may encompass any altruistic activity which is intended to promote good or improve human quality.”

Somehow, I have always related philanthropy to rich people. Rich like in stinking rich. People such as Bill Gates or George Soros, serving the noble cause of helping poor and deprived people by using part of their enormous wealth to improve their lives rather than just buying more sports cars, jewelry and villas (or whatever rich people buy for themselves).

But I have reconsidered, realizing what is really quite self-evident when you give it some thought: philanthropy might work just as well (or probably even better) on a smaller scale, without creating large foundations and employing hordes of bureaucrats just to manage and supervise the money.

By Western standards, I am not rich. But by Cape Verdean standards, every westerner living here is rich. One day one of our night guards (not the same guy as described in my previous entry about Christmas stress) approached me and asked if I would be in a position to give a contribution to him in order to build a simple house for him and his family.

My first reaction was negative, of course. Philanthropy and altruism does not come very easy in the western culture, unfortunately – somehow characteristics like doubt, selfishness, greed, suspiciousness and cynicism tend to be stronger most of the time. But after giving it some further thought and discussing the matter with my wife, I decided to take a closer look at his request.

I started out by doing some further research. What was his life situation? What kind of house was he talking about? Was he to be trusted? Could he handle money? Did he show any indications of drug abuse?

So I visited his home and family (a girlfriend and a 4 month old baby), and discovered that they lived in a 10 square meter room without windows, ventilation, water and sanitation. In fact, I would best describe the room as a rat hole. I particularly remember the stench, and I thought to myself that no one should have to live like this, especially not with a little baby. For this, they pay about 40 euros a month, which is a great deal considering his monthly salary of about 100 euros from the guard company where he is employed (a salary which I find remarkably low by the way, considering the high fees we have to pay to this company for its services).

I then examined the location where he wanted to build his house: a small piece of land in the outskirts of Praia, overlooking large part of the town. A basic concrete foundation was already in place, which I took as a sign of his personal commitment to the project.

My conclusion was that the guy seemed to be determined, honest and responsible, and very serious about this project. The next question was of course: what would the construction of this sort of building cost? So I asked for a detailed budget plan as a basis for further discussion. It turned out that the budget was reasonable – around 1000 euros for the complete construction.

Together with my wife, we worked out the following proposal for him and his family to consider: We would provide him the money he needed to build the house, up to a limit of 1000 euros, whereof 50% would be a contribution and the other half would be a long term loan to be paid back monthly as soon as he moved in (the same amount that he currently pays for the room they rent). The budget would be divided into four, and after spending each quarter of the sum, he would provide receipts or other proof of payments for all of the expenses. The plan was inspired by the idea of micro-crediting, a method that seems to become more and more widespread in development aid. He accepted the terms more than willingly, and we wrote a simple contract to keep it all in writing.

This all took place in November 2006. Today the house is built, and the family moved in last week. By all means it is no palace but rather a crude and simple concrete building with one large room, a door and a window, in the middle of a steep slope, partly covered with garbage and junk. But it is a home that they own, considerably better than the rathole where they lived before, and with a potential for gradual improvement - “poca á poco” as they say here.

I am intrigued to see if we will get back the part of the sum that we lent him, through monthly payments. I know many people governed by doubt and cynicism, who would tell me that we will never see that money again, and that, even if we did, we are completely crazy to give away so much money to a stranger without receiving anything in return.

However, I would argue that it actually already has given me a good return. I have learned a lot about the everyday life of the Cape Verdeans, and I have made a new friend. Also, it fills me with a tremendous joy to see the concrete result of this project and of the idea that I have contributed to improving the living conditions for this family and for the little baby. All for the cost of a plane ticket Praia - Lisbonor 5 pairs of Diesel jeans. And I come realize that the art of giving, the ability of generosity, is probably significantly underrated in our western society.

My conclusion is so far that this project has been very rewarding both for this family and for me. I remain convinced that the loan will be repaid. And that small scale philanthropy actually works. At least until otherwise is proven.

On security, the human nature and moral principles

The following could be read on BBC News some days ago (extract):

“Two killed in Kenyan carjacking

Armed men shot dead two female passengers as they carjacked a US embassy vehicle near the Kenyan capital, Nairobi. At least one of the women appeared to have been shot for not getting out of the vehicle quickly enough. Carjackings are common in and around the Kenyan capital but they usually take place at night.”

When we started to look for a new posting abroad, we were seriously considering Nairobi as an option. We both love Kenya and its people; it is a truly amazing country. The main reason that we nevertheless didn’t pursue this in the end was related to safety. We knew that the rate of violent crime in Nairobi is very high. We were also aware that even if you are lucky enough not to be directly affected by the violence, your everyday life will become considerably restrained, living behind bars, hiring armed guards 24/7, and being forced to live with a constant fear – if not for your self, certainly for your family members. Adding to this the risk of being injured or killed in a traffic accident, the choice was clear.

Against this background, I was touched by the story of the two women. It could have been me and my family. The fact that someone can end the lives of two women just to get hold of a car is of course incomprehensible to most of us. And very frightening.

This is not only a problem in some developing countries. When I arrived to New York for my first UN meeting in the mid 90s, I was told to take great care, avoid certain areas and never walk alone during nighttime. Crime rates were surging, and New York was considered one of the most dangerous cities in the US, if not in the world. I used to think that the TV series the Hill Street Blues gave an accurate description of the crime scene in New York – and maybe it did. I recall being almost terrified one particular night when, convinced by a friend, we decided to go to a ragged night club somewhere in the Bronx.

Before and during the time we lived in New York (2000-2003) however, crime rates went down dramatically. New York nowadays is considered one of the safest mega-cities worldwide. Many give credit for this to the Mayor of New York at the time, Rudolph Giuliani, who was said to introduce an innovative law enforcement system to quench minor offenses and thereby eventually avoiding also heavy crimes. Others say that police tactics had little to do with it, and that the reduced crime was a consequence of increased economic wealth. Yet others would argue that the crime didn’t actually disappear at all, but only moved outside the city borders. I am not sure which account is more correct – perhaps all of them.

Cape Verde, our new temporarily permanent home, has a widespread (and generally very well deserved) reputation of being a friendly and peaceful place. Nevertheless, contrary to the general feeling of ease and safety actually experienced when moving around in Praia, security seems to have become an issue also here – be it on a very different scale than in Kenya. Burglaries and thefts are clearly on the rise, and we have heard numerous stories about people that have suffered from looting, pick-pocketing or break-ins. Also violence seems to be increasing. Recently, an 18 year old youth went home and grabbed a kitchen knife, went back to school and stabbed a class-mate to death in one of the gymnasiums in Praia. The event was the talk of the town last week, and most people seem to say that this deed would have been impossible some years ago. They see it as a striking sign of the rise of violence in Cape Verde.

I could be recalled that some decades ago, Nairobi was known to one of the safest countries in Africa. Could it be that Praia is taking a similar route as Nairobi? I would hope not. But the fact is that I write this text behind massive iron bars. Despite my aversion against prison-like homes, our office space, like the rest of the house, is heavily protected. Behind me, the small back yard is completely sheltered by high concrete walls, partly covered by glass and nails on top to avoid unwelcome visitors. Following the advice of the UN, we have hired (unarmed) guards almost 24/7, increased the height of the outer wall and changed the security lock.

Philosophically, all of this makes me wonder about the “true nature” of human beings. Are we murderous and selfish creatures, killing and injuring at will? Or are we kind and empathic, caring and generous at heart? And if we really are born generous and good-natured, how can we as humans carry out such atrocities as we apparently do, in so great numbers? How can in certain situations the most precious asset we have, human life, become of so little value?

As far as I can tell, people who commit crimes of the sort described above are driven by a sense of utter despair and hopelessness. Also, they probably believe they can do it with little or no consequence. I am quite convinced that man is born neither “good” nor “evil”, but becomes product of the society he is raised in. We are no doubt biologically predisposed in one direction or the other (just look at the obvious gender differences when it comes to the use of violence), but in the end I think we are all capable of being either Mother Theresa or Adolf Hitler, or anything in between. How we actually turn out will be the effect of the people we meet, the values we are taught and the society we learn to know.

I would also hold the view that all persons are responsible for their actions. A “bad childhood” can not excuse actions that bring suffering or death to another. Still, the question remains whether a person who has had no education or experience in moral values should be held fully responsible for actions that go against those values. Maybe this was the case in the Nairobi killings.

In order to seriously abate violence, you therefore need a society based on universally accepted moral principles that are effectively taught to and applied by everybody, as well as an efficient law enforcement system that puts those who violate these principles before justice. But this is far from enough. The same society also needs to nurture a sense of responsibility, integrity and empathy, and it must be founded on equal opportunities and inclusiveness. Otherwise, you will still find people desperate enough to commit violent crime, as an act of despair.

How then to define the correct moral principles? That is more difficult than one would think. I would, like the utilitarian philosopher Bentham, contest any set of pre-given or inherent moral principles, such as those deriving from the world religions or (however ingeniously) suggested by some other philosophers like Kant. Such principle would never work, since they are bound to be outdated, biased and skewed.

Rather, I would advocate a combined utilitarian and relativistic approach, using a consensus-building process to identify (and subsequently possibly revise) principles that universally minimizes fear for death and suffering.

In fact, such a set of principles already exists. The UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights (http://www.unhchr.ch/udhr/index.htm) was adopted by the UN General Assembly in 1948. I consider this the best attempt we have so far to lay down universal basic principles to guide our society morally. However, the Declaration is not legally binding, and any analysis of the state of the world today would conclude that it is far from fully applied or enforced everywhere – not even by some of the wealthiest and democratic states themselves. Nor is it taught to everyone. One day, hopefully, it will become fully integrated into national law in all countries, and a real source of security for all human beings.

As finalize this text, I learn from the internet that over 120 people have been killed due to a suicide bomber driving a truck with explosives into a crowded marketplace in Baghdad. Yet another act of incomprehensible, meaningless and callous violence. It is so easy to become cynical and to resign in the face of these cruelties – but that would be the same as to give in to the perpetrators of violence. For cynicism equals giving up hope, thereby indirectly contributing to continued violence.

My relationship with Toyota

It is interesting to see how attached you can get in a short time to a product that you never owned or felt the need for before you actually bought it. Home computers, cell-phones, the internet, MP3 players and TVs are products and services that have only existed a few decades or even years, and yet many people would go so far as to say that they “can’t live without them”. I am myself sort of addicted to my computer and the internet service. In fact, when I experience an internet problem, I literally feel depressed. I don’t even dare to think about how I would be affected by a future hard disc failure.

Another apparent example of this kind of addictive product is the car. It seems that many, if not most, people don’t actually “need” a car until they actually buy it – after that however they easily become very attached to it. Again, I pick myself as an example.

For 36 years I lived a perfectly happy life (and presumably healthier due to all the biking) without owning a car, regardless if I lived in Ekshärad or in New York, in Brussels or in Lund. All in all, I considered cars to be dangerous, expensive, problem-causing (sooner or later they WILL break down) and environmentally polluting status symbols. Excellent as taxis and rental cars, but not as property. Also, for some reason I have come to develop this strange aversion against car salesmen and mechanics.

Some of my family and friends (who were already convinced car-owners) would laugh at my way of reasoning and at times they would try to convince me how much I actually needed a car without really knowing it. When Elias was born, one of them gave it 2 months before we would have a car. In fact, it took one year and three months – and moving to a developing country.

It turned out that the research we made on our future homeland suggested that a car – preferably a four wheel drive – was more or less indispensable for the kind of life we wanted to have here in Cape Verde. So we ended up buying a Toyota RAV4. Why? Because 1) Toyota it is a well known and widely used brand in Africa, 2) Toyota cars are known to be reliable and never break down 3) Toyota are known for taking good care of their customers and fixing problems that nevertheless might happen and 4) the RAV4 is one of the smallest and probably the most fuel-efficient 4WD on the market. (As you will see, some of these assumptions turned out to be false.) Toyota was also one of the relatively few brands actually represented in Cape Verde, and it is not considered a status brand and therefore relatively reasonable in terms of the price.

We bought the car in June 2006. And, yes – I have to confess that it didn’t take very long before I started to feel rather attached to the RAV. My previous doubts about being a car-owner tended to be less present as soon as I turned the ignition key.

Before we signed the contract, we wanted to make sure that it was covered by a worldwide warranty. Just in case. And the local car dealer in Brussels ensured us that the warranty was world-wide for three years. Six months later however, out of the blue, the break system suddenly broke down due to an underlying manufacturing failure. The estimated repair cost was around 2-3000 euros. And to our astonishment, the local Toyota garage refused to accept our warranty.

We immediately contacted the car dealer in Brussels who reconfirmed that the warranty should be valid also in Cape Verde. They then referred us to Toyota Belgium and Toyota Europe (customer service), who were rather unhelpful and would accept no responsibility in the matter. Instead, we were advised to contact Toyotas main office in Japan, which we did on several occasions both through fax and email. We never got any response.

At this stage, the situation looked rather grim. How could it be that nobody in Toyota took any responsibility for a major manufacturing problem on a brand new car? It was quite absurd. In a final and almost desperate effort, I called Toyota Sweden for advice, even though they had nothing to do with this. And for the first time my case was taken more seriously. I was given another helpful contact at Toyota Europe, and after that things finally started to move in the right direction.

It took an incredible eight weeks to fix the car, but at least Toyota Cape Verde finally changed their mind and accepted the warranty. I still don’t really know why but I suspect that my most recent contacts with Toyota Sweden and Toyota Europe might have had something to do with it.

I come to realize that this car issue has taken up a great deal of my focus and energy for the last few months. Upon reflection, it is not easy to understand why I got myself so worked up about something that I previously didn’t care much for at all. Of course – being stranded for almost two months without a car in a developing country, where taxis are unreliable and unsafe, especially when traveling with a small child, is not ideal. But probably much off the agitation actually derived from the feeling of being deceived, disrespected and dismissed by so many of the Toyota representatives. Nobody we talked to assumed direct responsibility for the issue. Toyota Japan didn’t even bother to answer us. Moreover, we weren’t even given a proper apology – a simple “Oh by the way, we are really really sorry that you bought a product from us that didn’t work” would no doubt have made some tangible difference.

OK, so Toyota got their act together in the end, and I am glad that they did. Our car was repaired and covered by the warranty. Nevertheless, the time it took and the way the warranty issue was handled was no doubt disappointing. My long term committment to being a car-owner and my relationship with Toyota is therefore a bit uncertain. Maybe the “car addiction” kicks in again, and all my disbelief will be forgotten and my confidence in Toyota will be recovered in a blink. Or perhaps I was right all the time: cars (including Toyota cars) are just expensive trouble, and its better not to become addicted in the first place. Time will tell.

Let’s talk about the weather

“If you don’t know what to say, just talk about the weather”. I have been told that this is true for all cultures, regardless other differences. Is this true also in Cape Verde, known as a country with, shall we say, limited seasonal changes? It appears so.

When we arrived in August, the weather was very hot and humid, in fact rather horrible for a Northerner like me. Not at all as pleasant as the guidebooks said. Clearly disturbed by the heat, and being a newcomer and a total stranger to most people I met, I often used this classical strategy to “break the ice” (if it hadn’t already melted in the heat, that is). And it actually struck me that people seemed to be just as enthusiastic to talk about the weather here in Cape Verde as in Scandinavia. Mind you: that is tough competition indeed, because Swedes just love to talk about the weather – usually because they hope that it will change.

And maybe it will. In fact, it appears to be already happening. Not because of chatting, but due to the burning of fossil fuels.

I just learnt that several large trees have fallen at our summer house estate, due to a really great storm. Trees normally don’t fall very easily in Sweden, but the same thing happened only two years ago. At that time it was described as the worst storm in 35 years, but apparently it only took two years to occur again.

Moreover, reports from Sweden tell us that it is the warmest winter in ages. No snow, only rain, lots of rain. A friend told me that one of the Swedish ski resorts, offering this weird concept of “snow guarantee”, had to manufacture tons of snow superficially and fly it to the slopes by helicopter! I found it quite bizarre, but maybe we will have to get used to these kinds of absurdities as a consequence of climate change.

Climate change appears to be affecting Cape Verde as well. Even the Cape Verdeans were complaining about the heat during the rainy season, stating that it was hotter than in many years. We were also told that some of the rainfalls (like the one that flooded our house and basement) were unusually heavy. Of course, many welcomed the increased precipitation, as water come in very limited supplies here.

But that was some months ago. Since December, the weather in Cape Verde is just perfect. 25 degrees in the shade, dry cool winds, clear sight, no more rain. Nobody - including me – talks about the weather any more, simply because there is nothing to complain about. Good news is no news, I guess.

This makes me a little nervous however. I will obviously not get any weather-chatting practice for a while. What if I loose this important ability, which I learnt to master so well after 30 years of cultural education in Sweden? It would mean that I have nothing to talk about when I come back…

Out of REACH

This summer, EU:s so called REACH regulation will start to apply for all EU countries. It sets out rules to prohibit and control all industrially produced chemicals. After 6 years of political negotiation, this 849 pages legal act will replace over forty existing EU chemical laws. When I was posted in Brussels as an environmental negotiator for the Swedish Government, I had the privilege of following some of these negotiations from the side, and it feels very satisfying to see that all of this hard work actually will bear fruit in the end.

REACH seeks to revolutionize chemical regulation in the EU by, for the first time ever, taking a comprehensive approach to control the thousands and thousands of chemicals released into our society and environment every year. It shifts the burden of responsibility so that the chemical producers will have to prove that their products are safe to gain market access in the EU. Previously, government and civil society would have to prove that a chemical is harmful before action is taken – a futile if not impossible task considering the large number of chemicals produced. Also, dangerous chemicals will gradually be banned and replaced by safer alternatives (the substitution principle).

While REACH is a compromise between many different interests and therefore not perfect, I believe that it is a major achievement in environmental policymaking in Europe, with many benefits for the environment and for human health alike. Hopefully also producers in other parts of the world will start adjusting their production policies, and perhaps other countries or regions will follow suite.

Cape Verde does not have any major chemical industries, so one would think that the impact of chemical pollution is relatively limited here. But unfortunately, there is no place in the world where you can feel safe from chemical hazards. Many dangerous chemical compounds, such as persistent organic pollutants, are long-ranging, and if they can be found in remote places like Greenland, they most certainly could be found here as well.

Recently, a friend here in Cape Verde told us that her little kid was showing very high levels of heavy metal in the blood during a routine medical check-up in the US. And she had no idea where this problem derived from. Was it the paint on the walls, the water pipes, the soil outside the house, the toys she had bought? The only treatment that worked was to stay away from home in Cape Verde for a certain number of months.

This is a pretty scary story for a father of a two year old. What can I possibly do to protect my little one from this kind of malice? I can see with my own eyes how the shelves in the shops here are filled with different kinds of insect poisons, heavy-duty cleaning chemicals and whatnots. And as a customer, it is very difficult, if not impossible, to distinguish the benevolent ones from the more poisonous ones. Whereas in Sweden you can’t find any chemical products without some kind of environmental label and information on them, I haven’t found a single product here with an environmental label. Instead, the labels are showing human sculls and cockroaches lying on their backs. And there seems to be no common sense in the use of chemicals here either – our employees all practice the principle of “more is better”, meaning that a bottle of highly concentrated cleaning chemical is finished within days.

Obviously, I try to avoid using strong chemicals, but at the same time we have to do something to kill mosquitoes indoors (some of which can carry malaria) and to prevent the all-invading ants to destroy our food stocks. Also, I have no idea what the contents are in the paint that so easily comes of the walls of our house after the rainy season. Moreover, I know nothing of what is hidden in the dust and the ground around the house – much of which are construction sites. Is asbestos forbidden in Cape Verde? I don’t know. Is DDT used to kill mosquitoes, as it still is in many African countries? I don’t know.

The point is that I (and everybody else, regardless of where in the world you live) am in desperate need of a strong governmental environmental chemical policy to help me out here – one that entirely bans, or in some cases promotes substitution of, the most dangerous chemicals, one that helps me to get information about polluted sites, one that ensures that the products have labels and true information. If not, I simply have no chance of protecting myself or my family from chemical pollution.

I don’t know if Cape Verde has any chemical laws in place, or if they are followed (I have noted that the petrol is lead free, however). But in any case, perhaps the REACH regulation will have a positive impact also in Cape Verde, at least regarding the chemicals imported through Europe. I certainly hope so.

Christmas stress and New Year celebrations

In my view Christmas has unfortunately turned from a family (and before that, religious) tradition to a crude manifestation in consumerism and materialism. From a Western perspective, the hunger for new gadgets and stuff that we think we need at this time of a year gets absurd, especially when living in a developing country and seeing the everyday struggle of many just in order to survive. I was therefore wondering if Christmas might be different here in Cape Verde.

My impression is however that it is surprisingly similar. Most people in Cape Verde are catholic, so at least the Christmas celebration has a genuine origin here. But the pressure to buy new things for yourself and others at Christmas seems to be just as high as elsewhere, despite (or maybe even reinforced by) the widespread poverty.

When people lack the resources to match all the squander expectations of Christmas, they seek other means. We were thus told by the UN security people to be extra careful during December, since the number of robberies and thefts always jumped significantly during this time of year. And a friend of ours actually told us that when they came home some days before Christmas some years ago their DVD was gone and the household cleaner was never seen again. Apparently she was willing to give up here job (in a country with 24% unemployment) and to take the risk of getting caught just to get hold of this gadget for her self or as a gift.

Candidly complaining about all the expenses they would have for gifts, food and beverage, our own household staff fortunately took another strategy. Instead of stealing, they asked for their January salary in advance and hinted that there is a tradition of giving some extra pay for Christmas (which we were intending to do in any case). Many companies seem to offer an extra month’s salary in December, and considering the average wage they pay and the price level of imported goods in Cape Verde, it makes all the sense.

However, when I met our guard again after Christmas, the first thing he showed me was a new fancy watch on his wrist, after which he almost immediately made a long list of all the expenses he had had because of Christmas and then he asked me for yet another advance. Why? Well, he had used 1/3 of the previous advance to make a down payment on a used TV and now he needed to take another loan in order to pay the rest of it.

I have come to know this guy and his family quite well, and I know that he is very poor, living on one wage only in a miserable and small house with his girlfriend and two kids, and with another kid on the side to support. His situation has improved a little since we hired him, as we give him twice the salary he used to earn. But his house doesn’t even have proper electricity installed, and somehow he still considered a TV to be a main priority. It simply does'nt make sense to me, and the only way I can explain it is that it has to do with the imposed urge to over-consume at Christmas time.

New Years Eve was celebrated quietly on our rooftop with a friend, watching fireworks from a distance. Cap Verdeans are known for their late and long parties, and New Years Eve was certainly no exception. When we woke up on New Years Day to the daily morning wail of our two year old, we could hear music and party chatter from still ongoing festivities in the neighborhood. And after a few hours of pause, it seemed to revive and start off again for a second night of festivities. As a consequence (or is it the other way around), most shops and workplaces are closed also on the second day after New Years Eve.

Praia is a small Capital, and I was reminded by this on New Years Day when I took a small tour in the city. Normally, most of Praia’s roads are relatively busy (however rarely jammed, except during the rainy season when parts of the roads readily collapses), especially in the mornings. This morning, I hardly saw a single car that moved. Nevertheless, I drove extra carefully since we have heard many warnings to look out for drunk-drivers, especially after a big party night. Many here seem to be rather relaxed about drunk-driving, quite the contrary to my homeland Sweden where it is taken very seriously, not only by the law enforcement but by people in general. I am not sure if there is a law here on drunk-driving, or what it says if there is one. I have asked around, but nobody seems to know – or care.

No mercy

This morning, like many other mornings, our little one woke us up early, just after six o'clock. First he wants comfort, then he wants milk, then he wants to play with his toy cars. It doesn’t matter to him of course how tired his parents are, or how late they went to bed last night. He shows no mercy... So, I got up and let my wife sleep while taking care of our son. She deserves to rest after a hard weeks work at the UN. When we both worked full time we used to have discussions on who should be with our son early Sunday mornings. But I accept that this is my responsibility now, since I am no longer the breadwinner for the family. After all, it is much better than having to deal with deadlines, zillions of daily emails, supervisors, stressed out colleagues…

Yesterday we heard about another case of no mercy, unfortunately, albeit on a completely different scale. A hideous organized crime, carried out by one government, and backed up and applauded by some others, including the world’s most powerful one. Gruesome pictures were cabled out picturing a bearded man awaiting death with a rope around his neck. Then, a few hours later, more pictures of the same man, dead.

One might say that if someone should be sentenced to death, it is Saddam Hussein. I agree with that. But then again – no one should. Killings signed, approved and undertaken by democratic (or undemocratic, for that matter) governments are NEVER acceptable. First of all because it is inhuman and irreversible. But also because it is futile. It simply doesn’t work. Barbaric acts will always promote new barbaric acts. Especially when sanctioned by government and society in general.

Within a few hours after Saddams execution, over 70 people had died in new bombings. So, what exactly have been, and will be, accomplished by this hideous act? Other than barbaric, bestial revenge? Other than making the man a martyr, promoting more fanaticism?

Sometimes (like now) I miss a real sleep in morning. But then again, it is such a privilege to be a father to this wonderful guy. It outweighs by far any of the little discomforts that parenthood brings along. What is more, I hardly ever experienced any sunrises before he was born. And I have come to realize that are quite nice. Besides, days tend to be longer when you wake up early. More can be achieved. Like writing another blog, for instance. Now THAT is a true accomplishment, is it not?