Over the decades, this poverty identity has grown from subconscious awareness to thematic.
A few weeks ago, Awal Basit [E-waste Scrapper, Dying for Attention, 1/16], one of the leaders of the "Scrap Men" (rather than "scrap boys", cred to Lalouschek/Wondergem) was calling my cell phone a ridiculous number of times per day. I try to keep relationships with people I spent weeks with in Ghana. Drive by saviorism isn't sustainability.
The technicians - Kamaldeen, whose dad made me the fairtraderecycling,com bracelet, Elvis, Yussif, Kamal and his wife, etc [all from Chendiba Enterprises]- might call occasionally, and we chat by Facebook Messenger or WhatsApp at least a few times per week.
How's it going? How's the family? Hey, it's national service day. yeah? what's that? You know, it's good to stay acquainted.
Awal and the scrappers are the Ghanaians of the north who never went to school. He struggles even with Pidgin English. Awal's text messages, outside of a few platitudes, are a mystery. He's from the other side of Tamale's tracks.
The young men burning wires in Agbogbloshie typically don't have the parenting or resources of Chendiba dudes. Geeks of color are typically valedictorians. Awal and his crew are not just "out of Africa", they are out of an unpenned Soukous Hilife William Faulkner novel. They all live in a poor country, they all come from the same tribe and language and region. But the Chendiba Techs are using downloaded schematics to fix TV tunerboards. They feel somewhat awkward around the guys who took the bus to the big city and live in a lean-to on Agbogbloshie's skid row.
In the Simpsons, the Chendiba techs are Lisa, and Awal is ("ha-ha") Nelson. Awal is on the streets and he has to show he's tough. He calls me whenever he feels like, having evolved far afield of pleasantry and shyness. When I get perturbed and stop taking his calls (usually when I've forgotten to turn on airplane mode and my phone goes off at 3AM with the whispering distinctive ring I've applied), he starts sending photos on whatsapp. Photos of burning wire.
As I said before, he wants attention. He's alone. He sees an opportunity but doesn't understand what to do with it Like the proverbial dog who caught the bus, Awal has a personal relationship with someone he may imagine to be as rich as Donald. And what got him that attention, and the interviews with Justin Weinrich and other photojournalists, is burning wires.
When someone begins to feel that their disadvantage is their attraction, it can become toxic in a whole new sense. As in toxic employee, toxic manager. I'm important because of my gripe. My victimhood, my lack of privilege, is the only currency I have. Your guilt gives me leverage.
A few weeks ago, Awal Basit [E-waste Scrapper, Dying for Attention, 1/16], one of the leaders of the "Scrap Men" (rather than "scrap boys", cred to Lalouschek/Wondergem) was calling my cell phone a ridiculous number of times per day. I try to keep relationships with people I spent weeks with in Ghana. Drive by saviorism isn't sustainability.
How's it going? How's the family? Hey, it's national service day. yeah? what's that? You know, it's good to stay acquainted.
Awal and the scrappers are the Ghanaians of the north who never went to school. He struggles even with Pidgin English. Awal's text messages, outside of a few platitudes, are a mystery. He's from the other side of Tamale's tracks.
The young men burning wires in Agbogbloshie typically don't have the parenting or resources of Chendiba dudes. Geeks of color are typically valedictorians. Awal and his crew are not just "out of Africa", they are out of an unpenned Soukous Hilife William Faulkner novel. They all live in a poor country, they all come from the same tribe and language and region. But the Chendiba Techs are using downloaded schematics to fix TV tunerboards. They feel somewhat awkward around the guys who took the bus to the big city and live in a lean-to on Agbogbloshie's skid row. In the Simpsons, the Chendiba techs are Lisa, and Awal is ("ha-ha") Nelson. Awal is on the streets and he has to show he's tough. He calls me whenever he feels like, having evolved far afield of pleasantry and shyness. When I get perturbed and stop taking his calls (usually when I've forgotten to turn on airplane mode and my phone goes off at 3AM with the whispering distinctive ring I've applied), he starts sending photos on whatsapp. Photos of burning wire.
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| "Your guilt gives me leverage!" |
When someone begins to feel that their disadvantage is their attraction, it can become toxic in a whole new sense. As in toxic employee, toxic manager. I'm important because of my gripe. My victimhood, my lack of privilege, is the only currency I have. Your guilt gives me leverage.
