Privatization of court interpreting hinders access to justice for non-English speakers in the UK

The UK Ministry of Justice’s decision to adopt a privatized contract for court interpreters has severe implications regarding access to justice for minorities from non-English speaking backgrounds. Shahendra Suliman, MRG’s Conflict Prevention Programme intern, reports.

A contract between the Ministry of Justice and a translation company to provide interpreters for all courts in England and Wales has angered interpreters and frustrated judges.

Whilst previously each individual court hired freelance interpreters from a national register of qualified interpreters, under the new scheme interpreters are provided by a single company, Applied Language Solutions (ALS). The contract, which has promised to cut the annual translation bill by a third, came into effect on 1^st February and has already provoked countrywide protests and boycotts.

Not only does this new deal undermine interpreters by cutting their pay and removing travel expenses for the first hour, but it appears to have had widespread implications for the justice system, particularly for people who do not speak English as their first language.

An interpreters' demo outside the Ministry of Justice. Credit: Andy Taylor

Previous interpreters needed a Diploma in Public Service Interpreting and at least 400 hours of proven public service interpreting experience in the UK to obtain full status on the national register, as well as providing an enhanced Criminal Records Bureau disclosure check. ALS interpreters are assessed using the company’s own method which makes it difficult to determine whether they are fully qualified, for the decision rests at ALS’s discretion. Nonetheless, anecdotes backed up by statistical evidence – 60% of the 2,300 interpreters on the National Register of Public Service Interpreters have refused to work for ALS – suggest that there is a real shortage of qualified interpreters willing to work for the company.

In several cases, interpreters have failed to show up at all, resulting in people being kept in custody longer than necessary. Recently a mother of three young children was kept in jail for three days for a minor theft (such a first time offence rarely results in this) because the interpreter failed to show up. No-shows have left all parties inconvenienced and put victims through unnecessary stress and trauma. An interpreter failed to show up in the case of a vulnerable Pakistani woman who had been violently and sexually assaulted, leaving the presiding judge to brand this ‘a disgrace.’

It should go without saying that competent interpreters are crucial for a fair trial – a right which applies to both English and non-English speaking persons alike. Despite this, court clerks have had to resort to using web translations which can produce highly inaccurate results – one had to rely on Google translate to tell a defendant the details of his next hearing.  In cases where interpreters have showed up, there have been several incidents suggesting that they are not qualified for the task. One interpreter failed to understand the solicitor when he said they had to go down to the cells and didn’t understand what an oath was. A solicitor who deals with a large number of Polish cases has expressed concern that many of the new interpreters ‘don’t understand legal jargon.’

Yet perhaps a failure to interpret is better than a poor interpretation – incidents of incorrect interpretations include telling a suspect that being charged meant that they had to pay the court money, and telling a suspect charged with perverting the course of justice that they were accused of being a pervert.

Needless to say, the potential miscarriages of justice due to poor interpreting should be a huge cause for concern. In Immigration and Asylum tribunals, personal testimonies are vital in deciding whether or not a person is granted asylum or entry/leave to remain in the UK. The slightest misinterpretation could result in vulnerable people being denied entry or deported. Not only this, but the rising number of adjourned trials and the cost of keeping people in custody due to no-shows suggest that the new system may end up costing much more than the old one.

Most recently a trial collapsed at a London court after a Romanian defendant said the claimant had “beaten” them but the interpreter said “bitten.” It was only when the prosecution cross-examined the defendant the next day, asking for evidence of the biting that the defendant corrected them. The estimated cost of the resulting re-trial is £25,000. The mistake only came to light at the end of a four-day trial and the defendant – who is 13 years old – will be forced to go through the experience and give evidence once more.

An interpreters' demo outside the Ministry of Justice. Credit: Andy Taylor

Organizations such as the Association of Police and Court Interpreters, Professional Interpreters Alliance and the Institute of Translation and Interpreting have hit back, teaming up with Britain and Ireland’s biggest trade union Unite to launch a campaign to reverse the privatisation of court interpreting. Protests have taken place in Manchester, Birmingham and London, with interpreters decrying poor pay and condemning the contract as a monopoly.

The Ministry of Justice has authorized courts to bypass the new system for urgent cases for the time being, however until it abandons the new scheme in its entirety non-English speaking minorities are likely to continue to experience poor/false interpretations, extra nights in custody, adjourned trials and potential miscarriages of justice.

London play highlights Chagossians’ plight

MRG interns John Lubbock and Sofia Nazalya found A Few Man Fridays at the Hammersmith Riverside Studios in London to be more than just a theatrical performance. The three-hour-long play represented a formidable campaign for the rights of the Chagossians, whose story is still not widely known.

Adrian Jackson’s play serves in part to address this lack of awareness of the people of Diego Garcia, a small island in the Chagos Archipelago, in the British Indian Ocean Territory, and epic struggle following expulsion from the island to make way for a US military base. The continued refusal of the UK to allow the Chagossians to return has seen the case taken to the High Court in London all the way to the European Court of Human Rights.

The play follows Prosper, a Chagossian searching for the identity of his mother and encountering the history of his people who he has become separated from. His attempt to put together the pieces of the past and find his mother provides a sympathetic personal prism through which to understand the Chagossians’ quest to return to their motherland.

Even at three hours, the play never became monotonous or dull, and actively encouraged the audience to take action to bring attention to the cause. The following is an exchange of thoughts between us on the event.

JL: The first thing that came to my mind was the African proverb which Marwan Bishara had previously used to describe the Arab Spring; ‘when elephants fight, the grass gets crushed, and when elephants make love, the grass still gets crushed’. Diego Garcia is a great example of two states conspiring together for mutual benefit while completely ignoring the fundamental rights of a group of people who they probably considered too small to do anything about it. In the end however, I felt that it was quite a hopeful story, because it shows that even though they are a tiny group of people, they can do something about it, and even though it’s taken 40 years, they might win and be allowed to return.

Chagos islanders demonstrate after law lords verdict

SN: Still it’s rather astounding to know that it’s been 40 years and their story is still quite unknown. I read a review of the play last week that started off highlighting this – most people, including the reviewer, had no idea who the Chagossians are, or much less where the Chagos Islands are.

JL: I imagine that probably more people have heard of Diego Garcia as a result of its use in extraordinary rendition flights and possible torture by the US military. The lack of awareness on colonial history is something I have been thinking about since I left school; at some point I realised I had studied all this history, but the story I was given was ‘in 1066 England began when we were invaded by French Vikings, then we had a couple of civil wars, invented democracy and then nothing happened for a few hundred years until the First World War began’. It’s a transparently colonial narrative of history with all the unflattering parts edited out. I think we should be made to learn about colonial history in school. I know you studied it in Singapore.

SN: Yeah, I’m not saying education in Singapore was informative at all on human rights issues, but there definitely was that consciousness of colonial history, not only of Singapore but the region. I thought ultimately the play did a great job of raising how serious the problem is, how it’s connected to people living in the UK and just how things that seem far removed from us really aren’t at all. Ultimately it’s a real eye opener, and I know it definitely moved a lot of people in the audience, and the post play Q&A discussion with the panellists answered a lot of questions to do with the legal proceedings and where the case is at currently.

JL: I was shocked by a few things raised by the play and the discussion. In the play, I was shocked by the fact that when the US effectively bought Diego Garcia, they asked for it to be ‘wiped clean’ and ‘sanitised’. They could have re-employed the people on the island and allowed them to continue their way of life to some extent, as they had been previously employed by the coconut processing company there before. And as mentioned in the Q&A discussion, even though the UK government acknowledges that they abused the rights of Chagossians, they are still trying to fight them in the courts to keep them from returning.

SN: I think the denial of their right of return can be blamed on lack of political will. Even though the UN Declaration on Indigenous Peoples is a relatively new progression, I think the fact that it exists shows how far we’ve come in terms of awareness of the need to respect and promote the rights of minorities and indigenous peoples. The fact that the expulsion happened 40 years ago shows the readiness at that point in time to exploit a situation where a group had weak legal protection and little recourse to justice.

JL: Definitely. That’s shown by the fact that the UK denied them the same rights enjoyed by citizens of other territories which were colonial possessions: the right for second and third generations to attain British citizenship even though they won that right in 2002.

SN: Yes, and the argument now seems to concentrate on things that really just seem to miss the whole point – for instance how marine conservation and the presence of the US air base are used as justifications to deny Chagossians the right of return. The situation is certainly complicated, but in the end it doesn’t approach it from a human rights viewpoint: that ultimately, the base that exists (which was the cause of their expulsion and violation of rights) is not a reason to fail to address the Chagossian cause. And the justification of protecting marine biodiversity is a mere greenwashing of the situation.

JL: David Snoxall, the Coordinator of the Chagos Islands All-Party Parliamentary Group, said that if the European Court decides the case is admissible, it is likely that the UK will have to let them return. The fact that they aren’t asking to go back to Diego Garcia but some outlying islands 140 miles away means they can’t possibly be a security concern, so you do wonder what could possibly be the reason for the UK continuing to obstruct the right of return. The UK could save itself a lot of trouble and money by facilitating their return, and also try to right a historic wrong which it created in the first place.

SN: Yes, and MRG has supported the Chagossians’ cause including submitting a shadow report with respect to the Sixth Periodic Report of the UK to the UN Human Rights Committee.

JL: That they were never consulted about their eviction is significant to note. They weren’t told they were going to be deported until shortly before it happened, they were intimidated in order to make them leave, tricked into leaving the island and not allowed to return. Even in the feasibility studies about the right of return in 2002 they were never asked what they wanted. That lack of dialogue shows there is still a serious problem with how the UK treats minorities.

SN: Definitely. I also felt that the use of different media techniques in the play was highly effective. The oral and video recordings of Chagossians, some of whom have recently passed away, the occasionally surreal scenes, the double narrative of the protagonist Prosper and his struggle, and the dramatisation of the past – they all culminated in a moving and cohesive artistic portrayal of reality.

JL: Yeah, I think the play served to give them a voice, to try to make them visible rather than just mute colonial servants like Man Friday who Robinson Crusoe has to teach to speak.

SN: Yeah I liked the part in the beginning when one of the actors talks about their language, and how Chagossian Creole isn’t a Pidgin or a colonial language but a language of freedom, a language that was born out of years of survival and struggle.

JL: The play does a great job of illuminating their culture and affecting sympathy for such a unique group of people, who have suffered such an injustice. It’s impossible not to sympathise with so basic a desire as wanting to return home.

While some may express ‘doubt that justice can now ever be done ‘ for the Chagossians, we think that change is partially up to us. You can be part of this change by signing this petition for the US Government to redress wrongs against Chagossians. Twenty-five thousand signatures are needed by 4 April 2012.

Keep on walking

Zulema Cardenas, MRG’s Street Theatre Project Coordinator, is in the Dominican Republic to catch performances of an innovative new theatre piece designed to challenge racism in the Caribbean country

I’m in the Dominican Republic visiting MUDHA (Dominico-Haitian Women’s Association, MRG’s partner in the country) as they perform theatre around the streets of Santo Domingo to challenge discrimination against Haitians and Haitian descendants. I’m with a team of great artists and fantastic professional and non-professional actors from the majority and minority groups in the country.

“We will keep on walking no matter what!”

That’s Baniris final statement after talking about the stateless situation of Haitian descendants in the Dominican Republic. Baniris is one of the young actresses taking part in MRG’s Street Theatre Project. Today she is performing together with other Haitian descendants from the bateyes and some professional actors from Santo Domingo University. It’s a somewhat sad and ironic moment since Baniris hasn’t been admitted to university due to her lack of Dominican citizenship (despite having being born here and a having a brilliant student record). The authorities consider her a person “in transit” from Haiti, as well as her wider family, after 50 years of working and living in the Dominican Republic…

Baniris is finally at the university denouncing this situation and her father is watching her performance. An audience of around 300 people are with him, laughing and nodding in agreement with its sentiments. Afterwards the public is asked to debate the situation portrayed in the play. Many of them are eager to express their disagreement with the current situation and their experiences of discrimination within the country. They tell us that Haitian descendents, and even Dominicans with African ancestors, are discriminated against in daily life and are frequently denied basic rights such as education, access to the health system and participation in decision-making processes.

Back at MUDHA’s headquarters the actors talk about what they’ve gained from participating in this project. The professional actors talk about a great learning and life experience because of meeting the youngsters and communities from the bateyes. On the other hand the young people from the bateyes express that they feel they now are worth listening to and are more able to speak up about their situation in front of thousands of people.

One of the young men says, “I now feel I can talk to everybody as an equal, even if this person is from the city or if they are white person. And I feel I really have the right to complain.” Then Baniris says, “I think this project is helping us to keep on walking, we have learned a lot and developed our skills. All this might be an alternative to our lives in the bateyes. I feel we can succeed.”

Italy’s billboards of hate

Claudia Santoro, who recently spent four months as an intern with MRG’s communications team, looks at how the media affects public perception of Roma in Italy and how the Decade of Roma Inclusion is perhaps falling short of its aim to support impoverished and segregated communities.

The media has the power to turn the spotlight onto emergencies and social issues. At the same time the way it presents reality can strongly influence public opinion. In this context, the way the media portrays minorities can create a hierarchy where there are first and second-class minorities. This is certainly evident in the portrayal of Roma in Europe.

During the past months I’ve found it hard to believe how discrimination against Roma has been publicly addressed in Italy. In May, during the campaign for the election of the mayor of Milan, members of the People of Freedom Party and the anti-immigration Northern League, the parties that retain the majority in the government, created huge billboards with explicit racist attacks targeted against Roma.

Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi stated on his party website, ‘If Pisapia [the opposition’s candidate] wins, Milan will became a Gypsyville of Roma camps’ and ‘Milan cannot turn into a zingaropoli [Gypsytown].’

A xenophobic billboard used during the election campaign for the Mayor of Milan. Credit: REPUBBLICA

The Commissioner for Human Rights of the Council of Europe, Thomas Hammarberg, who was visiting Italy during the political campaign , said he was ‘shocked by the use of xenophobic messages against Romas.’ This statement must be welcomed, but my question is: how long it is going to take to repair the damage caused by the hate speech contained in those billboards?

Just a few weeks before, in Rome, many communities had been evicted from unauthorised settlements in the suburbs of the capital city. These actions affected pregnant women and many children and made some 700 Roma people homeless. But by that time, the arrival of large numbers of migrants from North Africa to the southern island of Lampedusa created a bigger emergency and eventually diverted media attention away from the Roma evictions.

Roma live in very difficult conditions in Italy, and continue to be targeted by the national and local media. The typical “us vs. them” dichotomy dominates the national press as well as in everyday speech. This extends to stereotypes, where Roma are described as ‘dirty’, ‘dishonest’, ‘superstitious’. The Italian media portrayal of migrants forced the UN High Commissioner for Refugees to launch an appeal to create guidelines for journalists reporting about immigrants and asylum seekers. Following this request, the National Council of Journalists’ Association and the Italian National Press Federation established a code of conduct for journalists reporting about migrants, refugees and asylum seekers.

Recently, the Centro d’ascolto dell’informazione radiotelevisiva, a monitoring body on broadcast information, presented a comprehensive analysis that looked at thousands of cases, both in TV and radio, and confirmed the concerns of minority rights activists of the constant connection made in the media between crime and Roma citizens. The findings of the project were presented in Rome, and the vice president of the Italian Senate, Emma Bonino, stated that it is necessary to create a monitoring body on information and media at a European level.

Indeed, Roma live in dangerous conditions all over Europe. The Decade of Roma Inclusion 2005-2015 is a Europe-wide initiative to help impoverished and segregated Roma communities. European leaders are buoyant about the progress made in the inclusion of Roma, however there are many dissenting voices. Gelu Duminica, executive director of the Impreuna Agency for Community Development, a Roma organization based in Bucharest, believes the decade is a failure, because of the scarce effects of the initiatives promoted in EU member states. In the Balkan Insight article, journalist Nikoleta Popkostadinova calls on European states to put words into action on the ground. The strategy, which has the slogan “Nothing for Roma without Roma”, does not involve enough Roma communities, he says. Adam Ademi, who works at the Decade of Roma Inclusion’s Secretariat in Budapest, believes that ‘many believe that the Decade Action Plans are mainly focused to reach already involved and already aware citizens.’

I think projects for Roma integration should also address the mainstream society, in order to remove barriers that block inclusion. Certainly, the lack of integration of Roma in Europe is not only caused by inaccurate reporting, but also, and principally by the (lack of) policies to address these issues.

Protection of minorities is a condition for joining the European Union, but unfortunately member states are not really setting a good example. They are happy to consider Roma issues as a European issue when it involves integration (so that national governments can wash their hands of the problem), but when it involves expulsion they will argue it is a national issue, preventing any effective regional action.

Brick Lane: Merging Cultures in an Urban Context – Part 2

hannah-kaplan

Popularly known for its trendy pubs, fashion hotspots and Bengali food, London’s Brick Lane is again in the news headlines, this time over plans to build two archways resembling the shape of a Muslim head scarf at the entrance to the popular east London neighbourhood. Though now increasingly identified with Bengali Muslims, Brick Lane’s rich historical heritage is defined by immigrants, including Huguenots and Jews. In this second instalment of her blog Hannah Kaplan, an MRG intern of Jewish-American descent, tours the street to discover how minority identity and culture plays out in an urban context.

I found clues to the question of integration in the streets of Brick Lane – inquiries into where I might be able to speak to members of the Jewish community were often met with shrugs of shoulders or shaking of heads. The employees of one of the two existing Jewish bagel shops replied to my inquiry with the simple response, “They’re not here, they’ve all moved out.”

In fact, it occurred to me that perhaps this was a reflection of what populations of all great cities experience – change and adaptation. According to Icons , an organization chronicling the cultural heritage of Great Britain, when Jewish immigrants first arrived in London, they were often met with resistance or suspicion. Traditional Yiddish speakers possessed very little with which to establish a new life for themselves. These Jewish immigrants gradually became integrated into the social network of the city, establishing businesses and relationships within the broader British community.

While first generation Jewish immigrants may have struggled to establish a life for themselves in London, generations down the line, the Jewish community is firmly integrated in the cultural identity of London. However, the location of these communities has with time, and changing socio-economic trends, altered. Today, there are only traces of this influence as grandchildren and great-grandchildren of earlier immigrants have moved on to other neighbourhoods and communities, such as Golders Green and Hendon.

Like the Eastern Jewish population before them, the Bengali community has encountered their own challenges of assimilation. Prejudice and language and cultural obstacles have meant that the process of establishing themselves as part of the British social fabric has at times, been met with controversy. Most recently, a £1.8 million project proposing the construction of two archways at either end of Brick Lane, resembling the shape of a woman’s hijab or veil, has come up against criticism as the local community is divided over the degree to which the neighbourhood should enforce religious identity. While some believe such a specifically Muslim symbol encourages community pride and cohesion, critics claim that these arches represent female subordination or religious bias.

Speaking to a young Bengali restaurant owner, it was clear that while he was proudly Bengali and Muslim, he considered himself in equal parts to be British as well. When questioned about the proposed archways, he expressed his concern and opposition to the plan, saying that it would in turn ostracise other residents of the community. He extolled the virtues of a multi-cultural society and believed that, while he identified himself as a member of a minority community within London, he was still part of British society at large.

Clearly, the constantly changing and shifting nature of a major cosmopolitan centre means that within any society there can exist distinct divides and differences in ethos between community members. Brick Lane is no exception to the rule – a bustling centre of diversity, but one that is just as sensitive to changing immigration trends and cultural influences.

In essence, this is what lies at the very heart of the city, the constant state of change that occurs within every community, every minority group, and every sense of ethnic identity. It is this demographic flux that makes the urban context so unique, the manner in which the identity, practices, restaurants, shops, and houses of worship of one group slowly but surely are augmented by the constantly changing communities that share neighbourhoods.

Happy Anniversary! – Celebrating 40 years of MRG

Demetri Lowe

After decades of campaigning for the rights of communities around the world, MRG is now well established as a leader in the global fight against racial, religious and ethnic discrimination. This achievement is especially impressive considering that the story of MRG began 40 years ago with only a small group of principled journalists and activists. Needless to say, 40 years of commitment and hard work deserves recognition. On the evening of February 11, MRG staff, supporters, volunteers and other friends came together in London to celebrate. I was lucky enough to be there.

MRG’s anniversary event took place at the flagship Foyles bookshop in the centre of London. Foyles stands out as one of the largest bookshops in the city and the second floor with its vast history and politics sections is one of my favourite places to waste a few free hours in central London.

Entering the crowd, I came across a mix of familiar faces from MRG’s London headquarters, as well as many others I had never seen before. Only then did I realise the true significance of our 40th anniversary. For me MRG is a team of staff and volunteers in our London headquarters and regional offices around the world, yet this crowd included many others who have played a role in MRG’s success, including donors, journalists and former staff members.

After the crowd had settled in, the evening’s main event, a discussion between two authors, kicked off. Moderator Razia Iqbal, a familiar face I’d often seen on TV in her role as a correspondent for the BBC, began the discussion by introducing her two guests. Roma Tearne, a Sri Lanka born writer and artist of mixed Tamil and Sinhalese descent whose works often focus on memory and facing the past, and Louise Doughty, an English journalist and novelist of Romany descent.

The conversation focused on how minority issues have affected each writer’s life and work. Before Roma Tearne even began to tell her story I had already imagined the difficulties her parents, a mixed ethnicity couple in a country divided by ethnic conflict, must have faced. With little choice other than to leave their homeland, Tearne’s parent remained estranged from their families in Sri Lanka for the rest of their lives. Louise Doughty explained that her family’s fear of prejudice had kept her from exploring her Romany roots in her first novels. She only felt free to write about the subject after the death of a relative who was especially afraid of his Romany roots being exposed.

The two authors were asked to share their views on the role of artists in dealing with the traumas of conflict and prejudice. Roma Tearne pointed out the importance of art, specifically novels, in preserving the public memory of historical events, but she was quick to mention the vital role that non-artistic measures, such as the establishment of truth and reconciliation commissions, play in healing a post-conflict society. Doughty, who has written widely on Roma rights, said that, although she remains primarily a novelist, her heritage makes it impossible for her not to speak out on the desperate situation many Roma communities face. Both authors declared that a search for identity and a sense of belonging as minorities had influenced their most recent works.

Because of my background in publishing, one of the most fascinating parts of the discussion for me concerned the prospects of minority writers and the depiction of minorities in British fiction. Louise Doughty explained that money was the primary motive behind the UK publishing industry’s growing interest in minority writers and issues. She pointed out that the phenomenal success of Zadie Smith’s 2000 debut novel White Teeth had proved to the industry that novels with minority lead characters can be successful with the British public. Although the recent commercial success of British minority ethnic writers such as Smith, Andrea Levy and Monica Ali definitely marks a change for British publishing, I couldn’t help but think of all the authors and possibly great works of literature that went unpublished or ignored in past decades because of prejudice.

MRG has certainly accomplished much in its 40 year history. Immediately before the event we were able to celebrate two important legal victories; one establishing that the presidency of Bosnia-Herzegovina should be open to all of its citizenry and another establishing an important precedent on the land rights of indigenous communities in Africa. I’m certain that when the next big anniversary rolls around MRG will have many new successes to celebrate and that marginalised communities around the world will have benefited from those efforts.

Find the pictures of the 40th anniversary click here

Part 2 of 2: Apparently all Africans originate from Ethiopia – new discovery at MRG media training

Read Part 1: Team blogging – part of the media training in sunny Kampala

Farah Mihlar

We are championing on. I am still typing away as the 18 participants attending MRG’s Kampala media training add their comments to a blog we are attempting to write jointly. All of the activists represented at this training work with minority communities in some of the harshest political and socio-economic climates. They are almost always excluded and often discriminated against.

‘The Batwa are the first people in the Congo but the last in getting resources from the government,’ says Tuteene, who works with Batwa ‘pygmies’ in north Kivu, in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Tuteene wears the most colourful suits (today he is in orange) and has helped brighten up each of our sessions. The activists working with Batwa, in DRC and Uganda, have explained through the course of the training, how this community is marginalized and discriminated against. They face high levels of poverty and illiteracy and are stigmatized in society because of their specific physical characteristics, Peninah, explains. Peninah like Timothy also works with Batwa in Uganda.

‘The drought is so alarming and exceptional, it is having adverse effects on the livelihood of people and is causing starvation,’ Albert says. Many of the pastoralist activists have referred to the manner in which these groups of cow herders are struggling because of the prolonged drought and also due to the effects of climate change.

Mitiku, who works with pastoralists in Ethiopia highlights some of the challenges the participants may face in advocating their problems. ‘Even though we got this technical knowledge, it will be very hard and challenging to do advocacy and lobbying on the issues affecting our community,’ he says.

Whilst the training was specifically on how to use the media to promote issues affecting different communities, the bringing together of various different people, from different communities, helped to sensitise all of us, allowing the group to understand problems faced by minorities all across Africa. Many of the participants, mainly through the cultural evening, made new discoveries.

Apparently all Africans originate from Ethiopia. ‘How come no one knew this?’ I ask. ‘Some of us learnt it for the first time,’ says Joanna. I must clarify: this did not transpire based on any proper research. It just became apparent, as each activist referred to their origins that almost all of the communities represented at the training had originated from Ethiopia.

‘I didn’t know that Iteso are sons of the Karamojong,’ says Timothy. This is in reference to Albert’s historical portrayal of how the people of Karamoja and Teso came into being. The Teso, according to Albert, are a break-away group of the same set of pastoralists who moved to Karamoja. Both communities are in conflict over land and other resources in the region. ‘I think we just became stubborn and went away with the cows and never went back,’ laughs Ben, who is from Teso.

Samuel presents at a mock press conference

Samuel, who works with a Ugandan pastoralist community, says he was surprised to learn the different types of pet-names Banyoro people give each other. Drake, who is from Uganda’s Banyoro tribe, revealed to us how each person in the community has a pet-name, in addition to their real name. He has kindly named me Amooti, meaning flower (I really am not one). All of us picked up a few different ways to greet each other, the most popular was how the Karamojong do it.

‘Maata Angaatuk’ (I greet you in the name of cows, goats and all livestock), shouts Albert.

‘Maata’ we reply, in unison.

The participants also learnt about their own and others hidden talents. Samuel, for instance, discovered he is an exceptional cameraman, while Drake can easily start a career as a narrator (we hope he doesn’t give up his work with pastoralists).

Michael, the newfound reporter who apparently works for MRG TV (we don’t really have one, it was just a part of the video activity), says, team-building was good in the way we tapped into people’s professional skills. All of us had different skills. Penninah was very confident in responding to questions in the interviews and Albert was good in creating captions.

One of the most unique aspects of this training was that, whilst the entire team worked intensely for long hours throughout the day, no one was short of energy to party through the night. As we shift our focus to how much fun the group had, Sandra is unanimously asked to comment. Sandra is a local and took on a leadership role in pointing the rest of the participants to the ‘must visit’ night venues in Kampala. ‘This was not enough fun for me,’ she says laughingly… ‘Especially when we went out to my favourite hangout and the guys slept,’ she adds. This did happen. On the second evening, when we went out to a fancy bar (Sandra’s favourite), the girls all ganged up and chatted and the men looked bored to death. Some did go off to sleep. ‘It is not a human rights violation to sleep,’ quips Tuteene (no giving away who fell asleep!).

According to Albert on most nights they had so much fun they had to take a vote to decide the time to leave. I have to confess that I didn’t have enough energy to keep up with the continuous partying so wasn’t a part of these exceptionally fun nights. Faith, our Zimbabwean participant, who has unlimited energy to party, says the training was always ‘happening,’ but she insists the term has to be pronounced with a Nigerian accent (hapnin) to give it added kick.

Despite the fun, the participants re-emphasise how important the training has been for them. Drake sums up for us, ‘We have been having a barrier on how we can get our issues through to the international community, we buried our head in trying to find an answer. But this training has helped us to get an idea of how we can do this.’

Contributors

• Agnes Ingwu, Abanbeke Development Association, Obudu City – Nigeria.
• Albert Lokoru, Karamoja Agro-Pastoral Development Programme (KADP), Karamoja – Uganda.
• Drake Nyamugabwa, Masindi Pastoralist Group, Masindi – Uganda.
• Faith Nzilani Musinga, Centre of Minority Rights and Development, Harare – Zimbabwe.
• Mohamed Matovu, MRG Regional Information Officer, Kampala – Uganda.
• Mohamed Mukhtar, Media and Rights Somaliland, Hargeisa – Somaliland.
• Mitiku Tiksa, SOS Sahel Ethiopia, Addis Ababa – Ethiopia.
• Mugabe Herbat Joram, Pastoralist Women to Break Cultural Chains, Kiboga District – Uganda.
• Niwagaba Joan, Mbarara Development Agency, Mbarara – Uganda.
• Omunga Benjamin, Katakwi Urafiki Foundation, Katakwi District – Uganda.
• Peninah Zaninka, United Organisation for Batwa Development, Kampala – Uganda. Rahel Negussie, Pastoralist Forum Ethiopia, Addis Ababa – Ethiopia.
• Sandra Nassali, UgaBYTES Initiatives, Kabalagala – Uganda. Samuel Kaweesi, Nakasongora Pastoralists Association, Nakasongora – Uganda.
• Tuteene Kusimweray, Action pour la Promotion des Droits de Minorites Autochtones en Afrique Centrale, Bukavu – D.R.C. Thomas Kiptiony Chepsoi, Endorois Welfare Council, Nakuru Town – Kenya.
• Mpalanyi Michael, Uganda Land Alliance, Kampala District – Uganda.

Part 1 of 2: Team blogging – part of the media training in sunny Kampala

Farah Mihlar

It didn’t take too long to warm up to Kampala. So much of the city felt familiar, reminding me of parts of my home country Sri Lanka. The tropical climate, dark greenery, papayas, mangoes and pineapples. The laidback, friendly, warm culture… sorry… I may be getting carried away here. I am at work, I must assert! (Just for the record and also as my bosses will read this.) I am in Uganda for a five-day media training for community activists, to help them to promote their stories in the international media. MRG has for many years worked with some of the poorest and marginalized communities in the world, who face constant issues of discrimination. They often share with us poignant and hard-hitting stories about the realities they face, but they have very limited means to get these stories across in the media. The training in Kampala is the first of nine trainings that we are conducting regionally, in Asia, Africa and Latin America – phew…. no pressure at all. ( I won’t say how stressed our Africa Regional Information Officer, Mohamed, looked on the first day.)

The activists were being trained to write press releases and news stories, film and edit video footage, edit audio and use the internet by creating their own websites and also using social networking sites to publicise their issues.

Five days on, as I write, I have to say the results have been exceptional. The motivation and interest from all of the team was always high – despite some of the sessions being very technical. Note the reference to a team – this is because, throughout the five days, all of the participants have both worked and played together (the latter I will explain later). Many of us have become friends. We have learned not just media skills but also about various different communities in Africa, and understood deep and challenging human rights issues affecting each group. Ten of the participants are from Uganda and eight from other African countries, including Ethiopia, Somaliland, Nigeria, the DRC, Kenya and Zimbabwe. Despite the diversity in origin, culture and nationality, the common characteristics of being from a minority community and having an interest in the media has connected everyone.

Group work on designing a webpage

Learning about blogging and how to write a blog was one of the final sessions in the training. As part of the whole learning experience, we thought we would try out an interesting experiment of blogging as a team. To avoid confusion let me explain a few basic points:

Technique – I am writing the blog. Participants comment and share views, all of which are typed out. The written content is projected onto a screen so everyone knows what is being written.

Structure – the blog appears in two parts.

Content – I will fill in the background and explain some comments where needed. The blog also includes some further commentary from me, which was added as we wrote together.

Contributors – See below the full names of all participants, the communities and organizations they represent. Anecdotal information on each of the participants has been added in, in the process of writing.

Let us begin… drum roll…

After five days of intense media training, the team first talk about what they gained from the training. Thomas, who works with a small pastoralist community called the Endorois in Kenya, is the first to respond:
‘The web,’ he says.
‘What about the web,’ I ask.
‘It is going to help me a lot in terms of creating our own website for the Enderois. The new editing software was useful to know.’
The Endorois have been evicted from their traditional homeland in Kenya’s Rift Valley to make room for a national park, which is visited by thousands of tourists from Europe every year. MRG has, for years, partly through its Trouble in Paradise campaign, advocated for the community to have access to their homeland and for a share of the tourism revenue.

Rahel, dubbed the Ethiopian beauty, says: ‘Writing a press release… it was very hard for me to do it earlier, I had to get two or three people to approve. Now, I am confident. I can write it on my own.’ Rahel works for an umbrella organization of pastoralist groups in Ethiopia.

Mukthar, who everyone sarcastically refers to as ‘shy guy’ (apparently he was for the first part of the training, until he transformed in the nights out) makes the following list:

• How to write a good press release.
• How to develop a blog.
• Edit audio video.

On the last evening, we organized a cultural event. All participants were asked to bring something that represented their culture and they were asked to speak a little bit about it. Mukthar, turned up in an ‘I love Somaliland’ T-shirt. Some of complained that it did not look very original, but then he explained the T-shirt had a picture of a camel, which is an integral part of the culture of Somaliland. Since he couldn’t bring the camel along, he wore the T-shirt.

Team photo at cultural night

Joan, who works with cow-herding communities in Western Uganda, was referred to as the Queen of Banyankore last night (see picture). ‘We used to write press releases, but I understand that they were not up to standard. This will help me better it,’ she says, in reference to how the training will help her with her work. ‘I never thought I would one day have this opportunity to learn video/audio recording, interviewing techniques, being behind a camera – it took me to the next level and I gained confidence out of the whole experience,’ she adds.

Albert, always subtly humorous and very colourful last night (see picture) says, ‘I learnt how media can be used to advocate for the rights of minority groups. I also learnt how to use some equipment – like a video camera and to write a press release that can be used for advocacy.’ Albert works with the Karamojong community, in northern Uganda. Karamojong are pastoralists, who are rich in culture and tradition but suffer from inequality, discrimination and are also affected by a conflict that affects the region.

Timothy works with the Batwa ‘pygmy’ community in South Western Uganda. For our cultural evening, he showed us some impressive dance steps practiced by his tribe and based on rhythmic jumping. As he speaks, the team comments that they would have liked to see him jump higher. Ben, another Ugandan participant, says he curtailed himself out of respect for the roof, which may have otherwise blown off. For Timothy, the plus points of the training were how to reach the media through press releases and press conferences and website development. ‘We already have a website, which is in poor shape, so we learnt to make it more user-friendly and use it to promote the situation of Batwa.’

Mitiku, Joan and Albert at the cultural evening

Agnes, our champion of women’s rights, who charmed all the men with her beautiful Nigerian attire, adds: ‘Everything about this workshop would put Bette women in the international scene. It makes me very excited that very soon a lot more people will hear about our community and women.’ Agnes works to strengthen women’s rights in the Bette community in Nigeria.

On that note I will end part one of this blog. I admit, it all does sound a little too positive. This is not because I was a trainer (even though I would love to believe that was the reason). It was just a cumulative positive experience for everyone– it is true!! As if not enough positivity, Mohamed adds: “This has been a great team to work with. There has been a super blend of team dynamics.”

I promise to highlight a few more of the contentious issues in the next part. See you then.

Read part 2 of this blog: Apparently all Africans originate from Ethiopia – new discovery at MRG media training

Contributors

• Agnes Ingwu, Abanbeke Development Association, Obudu City – Nigeria.
• Albert Lokoru, Karamoja Agro-Pastoral Development Programme (KADP), Karamoja – Uganda.
• Drake Nyamugabwa, Masindi Pastoralist Group, Masindi – Uganda.
• Faith Nzilani Musinga, Centre of Minority Rights and Development, Harare – Zimbabwe.
• Mohamed Matovu, MRG Regional Information Officer, Kampala – Uganda.
• Mohamed Mukhtar, Media and Rights Somaliland, Hargeisa – Somaliland.
• Mitiku Tiksa, SOS Sahel Ethiopia, Addis Ababa – Ethiopia.
• Mugabe Herbat Joram, Pastoralist Women to Break Cultural Chains, Kiboga District – Uganda.
• Niwagaba Joan, Mbarara Development Agency, Mbarara – Uganda.
• Omunga Benjamin, Katakwi Urafiki Foundation, Katakwi District – Uganda.
• Peninah Zaninka, United Organisation for Batwa Development, Kampala – Uganda.
• Rahel Negussie, Pastoralist Forum Ethiopia, Addis Ababa – Ethiopia.
• Sandra Nassali, UgaBYTES Initiatives, Kabalagala – Uganda.
• Samuel Kaweesi, Nakasongora Pastoralists Association, Nakasongora – Uganda.
• Tuteene Kusimweray, Action pour la Promotion des Droits de Minorites Autochtones en Afrique Centrale, Bukavu – D.R.C.
  
• Thomas Kiptiony Chepsoi, Endorois Welfare Council, Nakuru Town – Kenya.
• Mpalanyi Michael, Uganda Land Alliance, Kampala District – Uganda.

Breaking Turkey’s Taboos

Rising nationalist sentiments in certain circles in Turkey has put minorities in a vulnerable and compromising position. In Turkey ‘insulting the Turkish nation’ is a criminal offence, which someone can be arrested for. MRG’s Ara Iskanderian speaks to a young Turkish human rights campaigner working for DurDe, an initiative seeking to stop racism and nationalism within Turkey. Her name has been left out of the article for her protection.

After hearing about her work campaigning against racism at a recent conference in England, I managed to persuade a young Turkish activist to be interviewed.  After some convincing, she agreed to answer some questions while everyone else was at the closing party. She asked to remain anonymous: publicising one’s work on human rights doesn’t always go down well in her native Turkey.

I am Armenian: to break the ice we talk about shared favourite Turkish pop-songs and common dishes, translating the names into Turkish and Armenian. Gradually, I slip in some questions and begin interviewing the young, proud, twenty-something Istanbulite who passionately gesticulates as she speaks.

She begins talking about the Turkish penal code’s notorious Article 301, which criminalises any act seen as ‘insulting the Turkish nation’. The infamous article has led to charges being brought against over sixty Turkish intellectuals including Nobel literature laureate Orhan Pamuk. Pushing out her arms and opening her palms skywards she calls Article 301 racist and an attack upon freedom of expression, all too often used to silence political opponents. ‘You cannot make a law that privileges your nation, which is what 301 is’ she says referring to how 301 seemingly favours the Turkish majority at the expense of minorities. She adds angrily, ‘it’s ridiculous.’

Maybe because the book’s still fresh in my mind, I’m momentarily distracted by her resemblance to Turkish author Elif Shafak, another victim of 301. Shafak was subjected to a Kafkaesque trial because of certain comments made by a fictitious Armenian character in her novel, The Bastard of Istanbul. The book’s anti-heroine is a young Turkish girl called Asya: a secular liberal alone in the crowded city as she navigates awkward relationships with friends and history. The parallels between Asya and my interviewee, who tells me how onlookers give her dirty looks when she eats on the bus during Ramadan and how much she loved Shafak’s book, are remarkable, so I’ll refer to her as Asya from here on.
Asya looks uncomfortable about her last answer and explains her misgivings – she says she feels unqualified to talk, and worried about having her words used against her. She asks that we don’t continue, obligingly I fold my notes away. I can’t help wondering if fear of 301 causes her to clam up. Turkish-Armenian journalist Hrant Dink, tried and convicted under 301, talked of how the spectre of 301 made him feel ‘as scared as a dove.’ He was later killed by a Turkish nationalist.

A few weeks later and Asya sends me an email from Istanbul. Can we continue over the phone? Sure.

Following the murder and funeral of Dink in 2007, when crowds took to the streets declaring ‘we are all Armenian’ as an expression of solidarity with an ethnic minority, Asya and others like her took the initiative. They established an initiative that campaigns against racism and nationalism. ‘Nationalism is seen as a positive in Turkey, people are proud to be nationalists, but it’s often a negative in reality’ Asya says. She is quick to add that her organization is not ideologically motivated, saying that it reacts to incidents rather than pursuing an agenda.

In just two years, their support base is nearly 30,000 strong and includes young Turks and prominent intellectuals alike. Asya however, laments that this is not enough in a country of 75 million people, especially as their support base is almost exclusively within Istanbul and Ankara.

Asya tells me of an incident in January when in the Anatolian town of Eskishehir the director of a cultural foundation placed a sign up in his headquarters stating, ‘No Jews or Armenians allowed, dogs are free to enter.’ She describes such actions as ‘horrible’ and talks about the statement her organization released in response. ‘We work on hate speech and hate crime’ she says and identifies 301 as a major obstacle, saying that it must go.

The organization found a prominent ally in Baskin Oran, an academic who argued that the synonymy of ‘Turk’ and ‘citizen’ should be replaced with the term ‘citizen of Turkey’. Oran was also tried under 301. Asya tends to agree though, she says, ‘I’m from Istanbul or Turkey. I don’t say I’m Turkish or I’m a Turk, I go by geographical location’.

Given their activities it’s unsurprising that the organization added its weight to supporting the online petition (www.ozurdiliyoruz.com) ‘we apologise’. Asya helped organise a series of forums explaining why people apologised to the Armenians for the ‘Great Catastrophe’ of 1915.  The controversial petition led to suggestions of mass trials by certain nationalists. When I asked Asya why she added her real name to the petition, she makes it clear it was because she is a human being with a conscience. Asya doesn’t wish to be identified with either the modern day deniers or the historic perpetrators of the Armenian Genocide. She feels it’s important to make the distinction.

Asya’s dream is to see Greeks along the Aegean and Armenians in Istanbul, hear their languages spoken loudly, to have churches reopened and a multicultural Turkey accepting of its history and diversity. It’s a nice dream but Asya admits she’s a minority view before going silent again. Campaigners like Asya do important work and whilst some might consider their actions to be too little given the possible repercussions their bravery in breaking taboos is commendable and should be supported. Fear, though, shouldn’t be part of their doings and its fear of a backlash that has Asya reminding me again that she wishes to remain anonymous.

“Taking the Ogiek out of the Mau is like taking a fish out of water”

Chris Chapman, MRG’s Head of Conflict Prevention meets with Kenya’s hunter-gatherer Ogiek community who, in the face of a possible eviction, are fighting to stay back on their traditional lands.

In the Mau Forest Complex, which is home to the Ogiek community, we met Rose, the headmistress of the primary school in Mboroti village. According to the government-determined pupil-teacher ratio, there should be 14 teachers – in fact there are 8. Only 5 are Ogiek. As a result, class sizes vary from 70 to over 90. The school is located in idyllic surroundings among the pine-covered hills, but Rose tells us about her constant struggle to keep classes going in the face of government neglect; the classrooms, with their blackboards covered in trigonometry, broken windows and dilapidated wooden benches, are a vivid testimony to that struggle. Last winter, after heavy rains, the toilets sunk into the ground; she applied to an emergency government fund to rebuild them but has heard nothing since then.

Loggers in the Mau Forest

I had come to Mau to talk to the people about their future; they are under threat of eviction from the forest, their ancestral homeland. The Mau Forest is an important water catchment area and the government of Kenya is concerned that the residents of the forest are committing irreparable environmental damage and must be relocated. But the Ogiek are not the only current residents of Mau; in recent decades the forest complex has seen an influx of loggers, tea planters and other agricultural settlers.

The government accepts that the Ogiek are the rightful residents of the forest; however its latest proposal is to evict everyone from the forest, and then allow the Ogiek to return; this proposal, understandably, makes the Ogiek very nervous. They claim that they have lived in the forest for hundreds of years, in harmony with their surroundings. Their hunter-gatherer lifestyle, which does not involve either farming or livestock grazing, has a very low impact on their environment. They also practice bee-keeping, which actually aids the propagation of wild flowers and trees.

At an elevation of around 2,000-2,500 feet, the climate in the forest is very different from the low-lying plains; the heat is less intense and the air pleasant and cool. “If we are evicted we may not survive. We do not know what the climate will be like wherever they resettle us. Removing the Ogiek from Mau is like taking fish out of water.” They talk of two previous displacements, one in 1989 and one during the 1930’s, during the British colonial period; the Ogiek who were displaced lost all of their animals; some died of diseases such as jiggers, and some returned, destitute. The Ogiek have a very strong attachment to their land, it is part of their identity. As a small community – they number about 20,000 – they fear for the loss of their culture, and assimilation by more numerous neighbouring ethnic groups; in fact, the 1930’s displacement was a result of the Carter Land Commission, which recommended that the Ogiek be absorbed by neighbouring communities because of its small size.

As I was talking to the villagers, I saw a large cloud of dust rising up in the distance. It was the third lorry, stacked up with logs, that I had seen that day. I quickly whipped out my camera and took a snap, it was a flat-bed affair with a second flat-bed hooked up behind, carrying what must have been 50-60 fully grown trunks, being shipped out of the forest by commercial loggers. As the NGO Survival International points out, the destruction of the Mau Forest has escalated in recent decades in direct correlation with the invasion by outsiders, whether loggers, tea planters or agricultural settlers, as demonstrated by satellite imagery.

The Kenyan government is using environmental arguments to support its push to clear out the residents of Mau. But when lorries are trundling out of the forest everyday loaded up with logs, in full view of everyone, it is possible to cast doubts on the seriousness of the government’s intentions. Community members confided to me that they suspect the government itself of selling franchises to the loggers. The Ogiek Peoples Development Programme (OPDP) a partner organisation of MRG, whose staff accompanied me to the Mau, is working to fight the eviction of the Ogiek; they say the loggers and other recent settlers should be evicted, but claim that they as original inhabitants and stewards of the forest, have the right to remain.