Tanzanian care revolution begins

By Dan Dickenson
BBC News, Tanzania

Asma lacks support from an extended family

Getting her 14-year-old son, Haji, ready for school is a symbolic step towards normalcy for Tanzanian Asma Yusuf.

It may be an everyday occurrence for families across the world, but 30-year-old Asma is a widow with five children and no job and is one of the poorest people in an already poor neighbourhood: Temeke, in Dar es Salaam.

Her mud house with its disintegrating grass roof is conspicuous among her neighbours' brick-built houses with corrugated iron roofs.

"Before I was facing a miserable life. I had little money, we had little food and I couldn't afford to send my children to school," she said.

"I didn't know how my family could survive."

Turned around

Asma says her life has turned round following the intervention and help of her local authority

"I have been given books and a school uniform for my son. He has been able to go to secondary school for the first time."

The financial and material support from Temeke Council has addressed very immediate needs but social support has also been invaluable, she says.

"Perhaps what has been most useful is the advice I have been given about how to look after my children without the help of an extended family."

That advice has included a range of life skills: caring for her family, managing the small amount of money she makes from selling small fried bread rolls known as mandazi, as well as advice on family planning and HIV/Aids prevention.

Changing societies

Asma is one of the lucky few who have benefited from a system that is working well in one small area of Dar es Salaam, but which is unique in Tanzania and could be copied by countries throughout Africa.

The demand for social welfare support of this type is increasing across the continent, partly because of the number of children who are being orphaned by Aids, but also because the migration of rural people to the city has led to a breakdown in family support structures.

Temeke, with its population of 750,000, is home to around 9,500 "most vulnerable children" (MVCs), as they are known in development jargon: a 10% increase on the previous year.

According to the Institute of Social Work (ISW), Tanzania needs at least 8,000 more social workers to meet the increasing demand.

Its response has been to train existing community development officers and representatives of community-based and non-governmental organisations as so-called para-social workers.

"There are many professionals who are working at community level who frequently come into contact with MVCs," says the institute's Judith Bagachwa.

"We can give these people social work skills with which they can support people who would otherwise not receive any services."

Para-social worker

Alfreda George is a good example.

She is an agriculture field officer for Temeke Council providing nutrition advice and support for small urban agricultural projects.

Haji hopes the chance to study will enable him to support his family

Following her training as a para-social worker by ISW, she has been able to offer life-changing advice to the disadvantaged people she meets.

"We are able to make a real difference for people like Asma and her children," said Alfreda George, "by providing a small amount of money but also by suggesting ways that individuals can turn around their lives."

Temeke Council is unusual in Tanzania in that it has three fully trained social welfare officers.

Two-thirds of the 127 districts across the country have none at all.

The Institute of Social Work has trained 120 people as para-social workers so far, but with the support of the US non-governmental organisation, American International Health Alliance (AIHA), intends to scale up the training programme to districts across Tanzania.

It is hoped that a total of 5,000 new para-social workers will eventually be trained.

"It is a constant battle to meet the demand for social workers," said AIHA's country director, Hazel Plunkett.

"Of the 70 or 80 people who qualify as social workers each year less than 10% are employed by the government as social welfare officers. The salary is low and the work is hard, so most use the qualification as a stepping stone to another profession."

There has been interest in the programme from other African countries including neighbouring Mozambique, where social welfare is also in need of support. There are concerns, however, that the push to get more para-social workers on to the streets is not sustainable once international donors leave.

"Para-social work is a step in the right direction," said Diane Swales of the United Nation's children agency, Unicef, "but it needs an effective infrastructure and legislative framework and this needs to be provided by the government."

Para-social workers do not receive any extra payments for the additional help they give and so there is little incentive for them to work the extra hours.

And like the regular social workers, it is possible that they will use the training as a stepping stone to a better-paid job.

For the time being, people like Asma Yusuf and her family are among the few lucky people for whom the para-social worker has made a difference.

Her son is ready to repay that support by excelling at school.

"I have the chance to study now and one day I hope to get a job which will help me to support my family," he says.