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The Year of the Pandemic

By: Ilka Oliva Corado

Translated  by Marvin Najarro

Due to the virus, this 2020 has been designated by many people as the cursed year. But it is only one among the thousands that exist; it is not the only one that kills, more people are killed, for example, by the lack of empathy. By turning a blind eye and feigning ignorance to what hits us head on: racism, classism and oblivion. Locking ourselves in our bubbles and keep them under lock and key, because everything that happens outside, what others experience, doesn’t concern us. That is why we see so many children living on the streets and dying right there without feeling any horror or pain, not to mention the indignation that would make us act accordingly.

Suddenly this virus came to scratch our bubbles’ doors, taking the lives of some of our beloved ones; perhaps people who like us looked the other way when they must have acted to help others. Die, or die from coronavirus do not make them nobler after death. But we sanctify them because that cursed virus killed them. But what about the hunger experienced by those who make garbage dumps their home? Why don’t we flinch when an avalanche of garbage kill entire families? To begin with, how and when did we allow this to happen? That garbage dumps became the homes of so many families; entire cities…

The pandemic, one of many. Why hasn’t the trafficking of children, adolescents and women for the purpose of sexual exploitation hurt us, as it did the 2020? It is a fact, visible, it is everywhere, we cannot ignore it. Or it will be like the virus, until it touches one of us? Then and only then we will make patent what we have discarded, because it was not our business, and then we will realize that we will be alone because the others will look the other way, just as we do today, it will not be their business. It is the germ of patriarchy and pettiness.

This virus brought out the worst in us, it was just an occasion to show the kind of people we really are, as is the case with some people – hospitalized – with a cell phone taking pictures of other patients who are in intensive care, and then sharing them in social media exposing the severity of the disease. If they don’t have anything else to do, why don’t they take pictures of their own balls? Why expose others in this way. Nurses, doctors, and patients have done this, which in no way indicates that just because some people have a higher level of education, they respect the privacy of others.

And what about those who take pictures of their family elders, who are prostrated and seriously ill, and share them on social networks. Why such a level of meanness? And even worse, those affected with the virus of laziness, or in other words, not severely ill but who are lazy and take advantage of the situation to hang out and take pictures of themselves uncombed, with a seven-day beard, eight-day sleep in eyes, and post them on social networks saying they are Covid survivors. When in reality any person who is seriously ill cannot even move a finger. This is nothing more than disrespecting all those who have died and are seriously ill from the virus. But that’s what human consistency is: thin, cracked.

Among the beautiful things that we could see were the indigenous peoples donating their crops, reaching villages with trucks full of vegetables and fruits to feed whole families. While in others places people came out waving white flags asking for help, and the response of those who could help was to lock themselves under lock and key in their comfortable houses, posting pictures on social networks of the abundant food, their expensive wines and smoky fireplaces while reminiscing nostalgic about their travels around the world. Today many of them mourn the death of a loved one, but even with that pain they do not deign to reach out to those in need because money, greed and selfishness rule their lives. By contrast, where the harvest abounded and was donated, the pain of one is the pain of all.

It was not a cursed year, nor is the virus, we are the inconsistent ones that a virus had to come up to spit in our faces the scum that we are and trace our human misery that lacks values, words and actions. Because millions of people around the world are suffering from hunger, they are there close to us, and it is not a virus. Hunger can be cured, it can be eliminated, also chronic child malnutrition, you don’t need a miracle or a vaccine, all you need is dignity, indignation, and solidarity.

The well-known natural disasters are not natural, they can be avoided because they are caused by all the damage we have done to the planet. Political leaders have to act, of course, but we as a society have to act too. Because being passive or not doing anything can be harmful. A case in point is the millions of face masks that will end up in the sea. In any case, neither the year nor the virus is the damned one.

2020 should have been the year in which humanity began to regenerate, to become aware of the damage it did to itself; the planet and other living organisms. But it is not the case, and it will not be, and a thousand more viruses may come along and kill entire families, that we will not learn, because selfishness, arrogance, insensitivity and mediocrity is the DNA that we carry inside.

From another planet they seem, indeed, those who extend a helping hand, share a plate of food, donate their crops and feel other people’s tragedy as their own. And they don’t have big mansions, or smoking chimneys; or expensive wines; or travel around the world; or master’s degrees, or PhDs. It is the ordinary people, in many cases also the most excluded and impoverished. It is the people. With this they continue to teach us the lesson that it is not about having but about generosity. Thanks to them our hope for a better world has not yet been extinguished. And the souls that refuse to stop dreaming will continue to believe in a spring of abundant offshoots.

Source: https://cronicasdeunainquilina.com

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Aumentan los milmillonarios de América Latina, la región más desigual del mundo: Oxfam

La fortuna de los 73 milmillonarios de América Latina aumentó en 48 200 millones de dólares desde el comienzo de la pandemia, incluso ahora cuando la región es una de las más afectadas del mundo, afirma Oxfam hoy. 

La región ha visto surgir en promedio un nuevo milmillonario cada dos semanas desde marzo, mientras que millones de personas siguen luchando contra la enfermedad, dificultades económicas extremas y por poner comida en la mesa durante los confinamientos, con los hospitales al borde del colapso.

En conjunto, los 42 milmillonarios del Brasil aumentaron su patrimonio neto de 123 100 millones de dólares en marzo a 157 100 millones de dólares en julio, mientras que los siete más ricos de Chile vieron como su patrimonio conjunto aumentaba en un 27 % hasta alcanzar los 26 700 millones de dólares.

Los Gobiernos de América Latina están infra gravando en la práctica tanto la riqueza individual como los beneficios empresariales, lo que está socavando su lucha contra el coronavirus, la pobreza y la desigualdad.Oxfam estima que América Latina perderá 113 400 millones de dólares en ingresos fiscales este año, lo que equivale al 59 % del gasto en salud pública de la región.

«Mientras que todos los demás están viviendo con órdenes de confinamiento, tratando de sobrevivir y con el temor de enfermarse, los milmillonarios latinoamericanos ven como su patrimonio y privilegios van generando más de 413 millones de dólares diarios desde el principio de la pandemia, todos y cada uno de los días», afirmó el director ejecutivo interino de Oxfam, Chema Vera.

“Los súper ricos nunca han tenido que preocuparse por ser desalojados por no pagar el alquiler o tener que decirles a sus hijos e hijas que hoy no hay nada que comer. Al contrario, han recolocado sus activos o invertido en más acciones, bonos, oro y bienes raíces, como ya lo hicieron después de la crisis económica mundial de 2008 y 2011.

“Mientras la gente muere y se enfrenta a la indigencia, la enfermedad y el hambre, es vergonzoso que un puñado de personas extremadamente ricas puedan estar amasando todavía más poder y riqueza. Si los Gobiernos no toman medidas para cambiar nuestros sistemas económicos, están echando gasolina al fuego del descontento contra las injusticias sociales que ahora están arrasando el mundo».

América Latina ya era la región más desigual del mundo. Los esfuerzos de los Gobiernos para combatir el coronavirus y salvar vidas se han visto frustrados por la desigualdad y la corrupción profundamente arraigadas, y el virus ahondará todavía más la enorme brecha entre los más ricos y el resto.

A pesar de haber activado uno de los confinamientos nacionales más rápidos y agresivos de América Latina, incluso antes que Francia y el Reino Unido, Perú tiene más de 366 550 casos registrados y una cifra de 13 767 fallecidos, el segundo país más afectado de América Latina después de Brasil y ahora uno de los peores focos del coronavirus del mundo.

Más del 70 % de la población peruana trabaja en la informalidad, sin contratos o protección, y sin seguridad laboral o licencias por enfermedad. Desde el comienzo del confinamiento el 16 de marzo, 2,3 millones de personas que viven en Lima, la capital de Perú, han perdido sus trabajos y la capacidad de alimentar a sus familias. Ya son 200 000 quienes han huido a pie de las ciudades a sus pueblos de origen en el campo, algunos llevándose el virus con ellos. Al mismo tiempo, los dos peruanos más ricos vieron aumentar su fortuna combinada en un 6 % hasta alcanzar los 5500 millones de dólares y Perú ha visto surgir otros dos nuevos milmillonarios.

El Gobierno peruano ayudó a las familias más pobres a sobrevivir mediante transferencias en efectivo de 100 dólares al mes, pero la desigualdad acabó con las buenas intenciones.

«Solo el 42 % de la ciudadanía peruana de 15 años o más tiene una cuenta bancaria y la mayoría de los beneficiarios de la ayuda del Gobierno, las personas más pobres del país, están fuera del sistema bancario. No les ha quedado más remedio que ir en persona al banco, donde las largas colas se han convertido en un terrible caldo de cultivo para el coronavirus. Vencer la pandemia significa vencer la desigualdad. También significa poner fin a los privilegios de unos pocos afortunados», declaró Vera.

El confinamiento de Perú implicó el cierre de todos los negocios excepto los proveedores de alimentos, medicinas y otros servicios esenciales. Sin embargo, solo una semana después, las grandes empresas mineras, petroleras y de agronegocios eludieron la orden, argumentando su importancia vital y estratégica para el país y prometiendo cumplir con estrictas medidas sanitarias. La realidad es que muchas de ellas no llegaron a aplicar medidas mínimas de mitigación de riesgos. La mina de cobre Antamina ha informado de 210 casos positivos por coronavirus, mientras que el 90 % de los empleados y empleadas de la compañía de aceite de palma Ocho Sur que se sometió a la prueba a principios de junio dio positivo, lo que supone una gran amenaza para las comunidades indígenas cercanas, que se encuentran entre las más desatendidas por el sistema de salud pública de Perú y que temen un elevado número de muertes. En la región amazónica donde opera la empresa, hay menos de ocho profesionales médicos por cada 10.000 habitantes.

En toda América Latina, 140 millones de personas, alrededor del 55 % de la población activa, se encuentran en la economía informal, y casi una de cada cinco vive en un tugurio. Hasta 52 millones de personas podrían caer en la pobreza en América Latina y el Caribe como consecuencia de la pandemia, con lo que la lucha contra la pobreza retrocedería 15 años.

En una región en la que ya una de cada tres mujeres se ve afectada por la violencia de género, las órdenes de permanencia en el hogar han dado lugar a un aumento de las denuncias de violencia doméstica y de asesinatos de mujeres y niñas. En Argentina, al menos 81 mujeres han sido asesinadas durante el confinamiento desde marzo de 2020.

En promedio, la inversión pública en salud de los países de América Latina es del 4 % del PIB, la mitad que los países miembros de la Organización de Cooperación y Desarrollo Económicos (OCDE). Décadas de privatización e inversiones insuficientes han dejado a los sistemas de salud pública de la región terriblemente mal preparados e incluso los han convertido en un factor que contribuye al aumento de las infecciones por coronavirus.

Para los más de 5 millones de personas migrantes venezolanas que viven en la región, la pandemia es una crisis doble. Tras huir del caos económico y político, millones de personas se han quedado sin trabajo debido a las cuarentenas. Muchas de ellas son indocumentadas y han caído en el olvido de las respuestas del Gobierno, incapaces de acceder a las transferencias de efectivo o a los servicios de salud. Desesperadas y a menudo sin hogar por no poder pagar el alquiler, 80 000 personas han vuelto sobre sus pasos por los Andes para retornar a Venezuela, donde incluso antes de la pandemia uno de cada tres venezolanos se enfrentaba al hambre.

Si se aplicara en 2020 un impuesto al patrimonio neto de entre el 2 % y el 3,5 % a quienes tengan más de un millón de dólares, los Gobiernos latinoamericanos podrían recaudar hasta 14 200 millones de dólares, que podrían ser invertidos en salud pública y protección social. Esta cifra es 50 veces la cantidad de lo que se podría recaudar este año de los milmillonarios de la región.

«El virus se ha expandido por América Latina no por indisciplina, sino por la desigualdad, ejemplificada por la enorme economía informal de la región y su falta de redes de seguridad, y por los Gobiernos que no gravan suficiente las grandes fortunas. La población se enfrenta a un dilema: quedarse en casa y pasar hambre o arriesgarse y salir a intentar ganarse la vida. Las grandes fortunas tienen una enorme deuda con nuestras sociedades y ya es hora de que paguen la justa parte que les corresponde», concluye Vera.

Notas para editores

Los cálculos de Oxfam se basan en las fuentes de datos más actualizadas y completas disponibles. Las cifras sobre las personas más ricas de la sociedad provienen de la Billionaires List de Forbes y del Real-Time Billionaires ranking de Forbes. Comparamos la riqueza neta de los milmillonarios latinoamericanos el 18 de marzo de 2020 con su riqueza neta el 12 de julio de 2020.

Durante ese período, el valor neto combinado de los milmillonarios en la Argentina pasó de 8800 millones de dólares a 11 200 millones de dólares; en el Brasil, de 123 100 millones de dólares a 157 100 millones de dólares; en Colombia, de 13 700 millones de dólares a 14 100 millones de dólares; en Chile, de 21 000 millones de dólares a 26 700 millones de dólares; en el Perú, de 5200 millones de dólares a 5500 millones de dólares; y en Venezuela, de 3400 millones de dólares a 3500 millones de dólares.

Únicamente tres países de América Latina aplican un impuesto sobre el patrimonio: Argentina (impuesto máximo del 1,25 %), Colombia (1 %) y Uruguay (1 %).

Descargue el informe más reciente de Oxfam sobre América Latina: ¿Quién paga la cuenta?

Desde el inicio de la pandemia, Oxfam ha proporcionado asistencia alimentaria, artículos de higiene y alojamientos temporales seguros a 250 000 de las personas más vulnerables de América Latina y el Caribe, gracias a su colaboración con más de 60 organizaciones socias en 11 países.

Información de contacto

Annie Thériault en Montreal (Canadá) | annie.theriault@oxfam.org | +51 936 307 990

Para actualizaciones, por favor siga a @Oxfam y @Oxfam_es

Le animamos a apoyar el llamamiento de respuesta al coronavirus de Oxfam.

Fuente: https://www.oxfam.org/es/notas-prensa/aumentan-los-mil-millonarios-de-america-latina-medida-que-la-region-mas-desigual

Imagen:  desinformemonos.org

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Coronavirus lockdown: The Indian migrants dying to get home

Asia/India/24-05-2020/Author and Source: www.bbc.com

Tens of thousands of daily-wage migrant workers suddenly found themselves without jobs or a source of income when India announced a lockdown on 24 March.

Overnight, the cities they had helped build and run seemed to have turned their backs on them, the trains and buses which should have carried them home suspended.

So with the looming fear of hunger, men, women and children were forced to begin arduous journeys back to their villages – cycling or hitching rides on tuk-tuks, lorries, water tankers and milk vans.

For many, walking was the only option. Some travelled for a few hundred kilometres, while others covered more than a thousand to go home.

They weren’t always alone – some had young children and others had pregnant wives, and the life they had built for themselves packed into their ragtag bags.

Many never made it. Here, the BBC tells the story of just a handful of the hundreds who have lost their lives on the road home.


Sanju Yadav and her daughter Nandini

Rajan Yadav and his family's file photo
Image captionRajan Yadav, his wife Sanju and their two children wanted to make it big in Mumbai

Sanju Yadav and her husband, Rajan, and their two children – Nitin and Nandini – arrived in India’s financial capital, Mumbai, a decade ago with their meagre belongings and dreams of a brighter future.

Her children, she hoped, would thrive growing up in the city.

«It was not like she didn’t like the village life,» Rajan explained. «She just knew that Mumbai offered better opportunities for all of us.»

Indeed, it was Sanju that encouraged Rajan to push himself.

«I used to do an eight-hour shift in a factory. Sanju motivated me do something more, so we bought a food cart and started selling snacks from 16:00 to 22:00.

«She pushed me to think big, she used to say that having our business was way better than a job. Job had a fixed salary, but business allowed us to grow.»

Two years ago, all the hard work seemed to be paying off. Rajan used his savings and a bank loan to buy a tuk-tuk. The vehicle-for-hire brought more money for Sanju and her family.

But then came coronavirus.

MIgrants
Image captionThousands of people have left the cities

The couple first heard Prime Minister Narendra Modi talk about the virus on TV on 19 March. A full, three-week lockdown was announced less than a week later.

They used up most of their savings to pay rent, repay the loan and buy groceries in March and April. They were hoping that the city would reopen in May, but then the lockdown was extended again.

Out of money and options, they decided to go back to their village in Jaunpur district in Uttar Pradesh state. They applied for tickets on the special trains that were being run for migrants, but had no luck for a week.

Desperate and exhausted, they decided to undertake the 1,500-km long journey in their tuk-tuk. The family-of-four left Mumbai on 9 May.

Many were travelling with small children
Image captionMany were travelling with small children

Rajan would drive from 05:00 to 11:00. He would then rest during the day, and at 18:00 the family would be back on the road until 23:00. «We ate whatever dry food we had packed and slept on pavements. The prospect of being in the safety of our village kept us going,» he says.

But in the early hours of 12 May – just 200km from their village – a truck rammed into the tuk-tuk from behind.

Sanju and Nandini died on the spot. Rajan and Nitin escaped with minor injuries.

«It all ended so quickly,» Rajan says. «We were so close to our village. We were so excited. But I have nothing left now – just a big void.»

He says he can’t help but keep thinking about the train tickets that never came. «I wish I had gotten the tickets. I wish I had never started the journey… I wish I was not poor.»


Lallu Ram Yadav

Lallu Ram
Image captionLallu Ram Yadav was excited to spend time with his family

Lallu Ram Yadav used to meet his cousin Ajay Kumar every Sunday to reminisce about the village he had left for Mumbai a decade earlier, in search of a better life for his wife and six children.

For 10 years, the 55-year-old had worked as a security guard, 12 hours a day, six days a week.

But his hard work amounted to little once the lockdown began, and the cousins both found their savings quickly ran out.

Lallu Ram called his family to say they were coming home – at least, he would now get to spend time with his children, he said.

And so Lallu Ram and Ajay Kumar joined the desperate scramble to find a way home to the village in Uttar Pradesh’s Allahabad district, some 1,400km away.

But the price demanded by lorry drivers proved too much. Instead, inspired by the migrants walking home they saw on the television, they packed small bags and began the journey on foot with four friends.

A group of migrants walking on a motorway
Image captionMany migrants say they don’t want to come back to cities

The covered around 400km in the first 48 hours – hitchhiking in lorries along the way. But the journey was more difficult than they had imagined.

«It was really hot and we would get tired quickly,» Ajay Kumar said. «The leather shoes we were wearing were extremely uncomfortable.»

They all had blisters on their feet after walking for a day, but giving up was not an option.

One evening, Lallu Ram started complaining about breathing difficulties. They had just entered Madhya Pradesh state – they still had a long way to go, but they decided to rest for a while before starting again.

Lallu Ram never woke up. When they took him to a nearby hospital, they were told he had died of a cardiac arrest, triggered by exhaustion and fatigue.

Many found it difficult to find food during their journeys
Image captionMany found it difficult to find food during their journeys

They didn’t know what to do with the body. An ambulance was going to take five to eight hours to reach them.

The group had around 15,000 rupees ($199; £163) between them – half the amount needed to hire a lorry. But one driver agreed to take the rest of the payment later. And that’s how they took the body back home.

Lallu Ram couldn’t fulfil the promise of spending more time with his children.

«The family’s only breadwinner is gone,» says Ajay Kumar. «Nobody helped us. My cousin didn’t have to die – but it was a choice between hunger and the long journey.

«We poor people often have to pick the best from several bad choices. It didn’t work out for my cousin this time. It seldom works out for poor people like him.»


Sagheer Ansari

A selfie of Sagheer Ansari
Image captionSagheer Ansari was an expert tailor but had lost his job recently

Sagheer and Sahib Ansari were good tailors. They never struggled to find work in Delhi’s booming garment factories – until the lockdown.

Within days, they lost their jobs. The brothers thought things would go back to normal in a few weeks and stayed put in their tiny one-room house.

When their money ran out, they asked family members in the village for help. When the lockdown was further extended in May, their patience ran out.

«We couldn’t have asked the family for more money. We were supposed to help them, not take money from them,» Sahib says.

They would wait in queues for food being distributed by the government. But, Sahib says, it was never enough and they always felt hungry.

So the brothers discussed the idea of going back to their village in Motihari district in Bihar state, some 1,200km from Delhi.

Sagheer Ansari's family in a file photo
Image captionSagheer has left behind his wife and three young children

They and their friends decided to buy used bicycles, but could only afford six for eight people. So they decided that they would all take turns to ride pillion.

They left Delhi in the early hours of 5 May. It was a hot day and the group felt tired after every 10km.

«Our knees would hurt, but we kept pedalling. We hardly got a proper meal and that made it more difficult to pedal,» Sahib says.

After riding for five days, the group reached Lucknow – the capital of Uttar Pradesh. It had been two days since they had had a proper meal and they were mostly surviving on puffed rice.

«All of us were very hungry. We sat on a road divider to eat because there was hardly any traffic,» he says.

An overcrowded lorry
Image captionMany migrants have had to travel in overcrowded lorries

But then a car came out of nowhere, hitting the barrier and striking Sagheer. He died in a hospital a few hours later.

«My world came crashing down,» Sahib says. «I had no idea what I was going to tell his two children and his wife.

«He used to love home-cooked food and was looking forward to it. He died without having a proper meal for days.»

Sahib eventually reached home with his brother’s body, brought by an ambulance. But he couldn’t mourn with his family for long, as he was put into a quarantine centre right after the burial.

«I don’t know who to blame for his death – coronavirus, hunger or poverty. I have understood one thing: I will never leave my village. I will make less money but at least I will stay alive.»


Balram and his friend, Naresh Singh

Naresh Singh's family photo
Image captionNaresh Singh with his wife (standing to his right) and children

Jaikrishna Kumar, 17, regrets encouraging his father Balram to come home after the lockdown started.

Balram was from a village in Bihar’s Khagadia district, but was working in Gujarat – one of the states worst-hit by the coronavirus – when much of India closed down in March.

He and his friend Naresh Singh, a maintenance worker for mobile phone towers, were both working hard so their sons back in Bihar could have better futures. Balram wanted Jaikrishna to go to college, Nikram wanted his sons to become government officers.

They started their journey on foot, but about 400km into it, policemen helped them and others to hitch a ride in a lorry.

The «ride» involved them all being precariously perched on top of cargo – a common sight on Indian highways.

Two migrants hanging on the back of a truck
Image captionPeople have taken extreme risks to get home

But this time, the driver lost control in Dausa town in Rajasthan state, ramming the lorry into a tree.

Both Naresh and Balram died in the accident.

Now Jaikrishna Kumar says he will probably have to quit studying and find a job to support the family.

«The accident took away my father and my dreams of getting an education. I wish there was another way. I don’t like the idea of going to a city to work, but what other option do I have?

«My father wanted me to break the cycle of poverty. I don’t know how to do it without him.»

Source and Image: https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-52672764

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UN chief calls for ending child poverty

United Nations/20-10-2019/Author: Mu Xuequan/Source: www.xinhuanet.com

UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres on Thursday urged the international community to empower children to end poverty.

In his message for the International Day for the Eradication of Poverty, which falls on Thursday, the UN chief said children are more than twice as likely to live in extreme poverty than adults, and poverty condemns many children to lifelong disadvantage and perpetuates an intergenerational transfer of deprivation.

He highlighted that girls are at particular risk, but they are also a force for change. «For every additional year a girl remains in school, her average income over a lifetime increases, her chances of being married early decrease, and there are clear health and education benefits for her children, making it a key factor in breaking the cycle of poverty,» he said.

One of the keys to ending child poverty is addressing poverty in the household, from which it often stems, said Guterres, adding that access to quality social services must be a priority, yet today, almost two-thirds of children lack social protection coverage.

He added family-oriented policies are also indispensable, including flexible working arrangements, parental leave and childcare support.

The International Day for the Eradication of Poverty is observed on Oct. 17 each year since 1993. This year’s theme is «acting together to empower children, their families and communities to end poverty.»

Source: http://www.xinhuanet.com/english/2019-10/18/c_138480403.htm

Image: billy cedeno en Pixabay

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Nigeria: Education best instrument to fight poverty, social ills – Nasarawa Speaker

África/Nigeria/June 04, 2018/Source: www.pulse.ng

Abdullahi described education as the best instrument to fight poverty and other related abuses on children, hence the need for parents to give topmost priority to the education of their wards.

Alhaji Ibrahim Abdullahi, the Speaker, Nasarawa State House of Assembly, has urged parents and guardians to provide good education and proper upbringing of their children for a better society.

The speaker made the appeal in a statement issued by his Press Secretary, Alhaji Jibrin Gwamna, and made available to News Agency of Nigeria (NAN) in Keffi on Sunday.

Abdullahi described education as the best instrument to fight poverty and other related abuses on children, hence the need for parents to give topmost priority to the education of their wards.

The speaker described children as special gifts from God while urging parents to take adequate care of them for a prosperous society.

He also urged parents to live an exemplary life by inculcating good moral values on their children.

Education is the leeway to success in life and a route to escape from poverty box, and it is the bed rock of any society as knowledge is power.

“When one is well informed, he or she can move to places beyond his local environment,” the statement said.

Abdullahi condemned violence against children, calling for all hands to be on deck in order to fight violence against violence.

He congratulated the children on their day, describing the day as unique and worth celebrating.

According to him, there will be permanent peace in the society if parents instill moral values on their children and to live a life worth of emulation for the overall development of the country.

Besides, the speaker called for special prayers for the survival, good health and growth of children as leaders of tomorrow.

He underscored the need for all, especially leaders, to brace up and put smiles on the faces of children, especially the less privileged.

Abdullahi restated the commitment of the state legislature to continue to pass resolutions and enact laws that have direct bearing on the lives of the children.

He enjoined the people of the state and Nigerians at large to be law abiding, respect constituted authorities and to live in peace for the overall development of the country.

Source:

http://www.pulse.ng/news/local/education-best-instrument-to-fight-poverty-social-ills-id8426987.html

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South Africa’s deficient education system

South Africa  /News 24

South Africa’s deficient education system is the single greatest obstacle to socio-economic advancement, replicating rather than reversing patterns of unemployment, poverty, and inequality, and effectively denying the majority of young people the chance of a middle-class life.

This emerges from a report, ‘Education the single greatest obstacle to socio-economic advancement in South Africa’, published by the Centre for Risk Analysis (CRA) at the Institute of Race Relations (IRR).

Set against data showing high rates of urbanisation – reflecting a common yearning for better-paying jobs, and a shot at middle-class life in a city – as well as a marked shift in the structure of the economy towards high-skills sectors, the research at once underscores the vital importance of education, and the devastating impacts of its most chronic deficiencies.

A new approach to schooling is urgently needed, according to author of the report, CRA director Frans Cronje, and should focus on achieving much higher levels of parental involvement and control, rather than bureaucratic control.

«On the strength of our experience and analysis», he says, «the quickest way to a much-improved education system would be to greatly strengthen the scope for School Governing Bodies and communities to control schools and exert their influence in the interests of their children».

The report acknowledges that much, in fact, has changed for the better in recent decades.

Positive outcomes include the fact that pre-school enrolment has soared by 270.4% since 2000, setting a much better basis for future school throughput, that the proportion of people aged 20 or older with no schooling has fallen from 13% in 1995 to 4.8% in 2016, and that the proportion of matric candidates receiving a bachelor’s pass has increased from 20.1% in 2008 to 28.7% last year.

The good news doesn’t end there.

Higher education participation rates (the proportion of 20–24 year olds enrolled in higher education) have risen from 15.4% in 2002 to 18.6% in 2015, with university enrolment numbers climbing 289.5% since 1985 and more than 100% since 1995.

The ratio of white to black university graduates was 3.7:1 in 1991, narrowing to 0.3:1 in 2015, and the proportion of people aged 20 and older with a degree has increased from 2.9% in 1995 to 4.9% in 2016.

But, in just short of a dozen bullet points, the grimmer side of South African education is laid bare:

  • Just under half of children who enrol in grade one will make it to Grade 12;
  • Roughly 20% of Grade 9, 10, and 11 pupils are repeaters, suggesting that they have been poorly prepared in the early grades of the school system;
  • Just 28% of people aged 20 or older have completed high school;
  • Just 3.1% of Black people over the age of 20 have a university degree compared to 13.9% and 18.3% for Indian and White people;
  • Just 6.9% of matric candidates will pass Maths with a grade of 70% to 100% – a smaller proportion than in 2008 (bearing in mind that, once the near 50% pre-matric drop-out rate is factored in, this means that around three out of 100 children will pass Maths in matric with such a grade);
  • The ratio of Maths Literacy (a B-grade Maths option) to Maths candidates in matric has changed from 0.9:1 in 2008 to 1.5:1 in 2016;
  • In the poorest quintile of schools, less than one out of 100 matric candidates will receive a distinction in maths;
  • In the richest quintile, that figure is just 9.7%;
  • Just one in three schools has a library and one in five a science laboratory;
  • The Black higher education participation rate is just 15.6%, while that for Indian and White people (aged 20–24) is 49.3% and 52.8%; and
  • The unemployment rate for tertiary qualified professionals has increased from 7.7% in 2008 to 13,2% today.

Author Frans Cronje notes: «The data makes it clear that education or the lack thereof is the primary indicator that determines the living standards trajectory of a young South African.

«In the second quarter of 2017, the unemployment rate for a tertiary qualified person was 13.2% – less than half the national average of 27.7%. Likewise, the labour market absorption rate for tertiary qualified professionals was 75.6% in 2017 as opposed to just 43.3% for the country as a whole.»

Three factors were particularly worrying.

«The first is the poor quality of Maths education. A good Maths pass in matric is in all probability the most important marker in determining whether a young person will enter the middle classes. While Maths education is poor across the board, the quality is worse in the poorest quintile of schools, leaving no doubt that school education is replicating trends of poverty and inequality in our society.»

The second is the low rate of tertiary education participation among black people.

Cronje warns that «it is futile to think that significant middle-class expansion, let alone demographic transformation, will take place as long as the higher education participation rate remains at around 15% for Black people».

The third is the «still very high» school drop-out rate.

«Just over half of [the] children will complete high school at all. In an economy that is evolving in favour of high-skilled tertiary industries and in which political pressure and policy are being used to drive up the cost of unskilled labour, this means that the majority of those children are unlikely to ever find gainful employment,» Cronje writes.

Putting these three concerns together, «you cannot escape the conclusion that the education system represents the single greatest obstacle to socio-economic advancement in South Africa».

«It replicates patterns of unemployment, poverty, and inequality and denies the majority of young people the chance of a middle-class life,» Cronje concludes. «The implications speak for themselves.»

– Morris is head of media at the Institute of Race Relations (IRR).

Fuente: https://www.news24.com/Analysis/south-africas-deficient-education-system-20180507

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Japan: Too much of an education could be bad for your future

Japan/April 03, 2018/By: MICHAEL HOFFMAN*/Source: https://www.japantimes.co.jp

Poverty comes in many forms but one color: gray.

There is the poverty of the poor, the poverty of the rich, the poverty of the academically under-qualified, the poverty of the academically over-qualified. The poverty of the poor pretty much speaks for itself. The riches of the rich may be deceptive.

The biggest drain on them is education for the kids. Luxuries and pleasures can be sacrificed, but to compromise where the children are concerned is (or is seen to be) to deprive them of the leg-up they need (or are seen to need) to gain a foothold in life.

What high schools are open to graduates of inferior elementary schools? Inferior ones. What universities are open to graduates of second-rate high schools? Second-rate ones. What kind of career is open to graduates of merely ordinary universities? A merely ordinary one. The consequent financial strain can be felt as a kind of poverty.

If it’s true of the rich, how much more so of the poor. The high cost of education is considered a main cause of the sunken birth rate. If educating your children as the economy demands its top tier be educated requires means beyond the average, means beyond you, childlessness might well seem the more responsible option.

There’s education and education. Motives for acquiring it vary. It can be a quest for knowledge or a quest for credentials. The former is problematic. Shukan Gendai magazine tells some cautionary tales.

“Kyoko-san,” 27, studied fine arts. It was her passion. She’d learn the subject, then teach it. Undergraduate school, graduate school, post-grad school. Hard at work on her Ph.D. thesis, she suddenly noticed something: Students graduating ahead of her weren’t getting jobs.

Stupid of her not to notice before! Absorption in your studies can blind you to earthier realities. Panicking, she put aside her thesis and threw herself into job-hunting. Nothing. Universities were over-staffed, the private sector had no room for her. She eventually landed a job at a small small-town rural arts museum. The work is routine and she feels her expert knowledge rotting within her, but at least she can feed herself.

Not every one is so lucky. “Nakamura-san,” 29, is a Ph.D. scientist struggling to repay a ¥6 million student loan on a ¥2 million-a-year salary. The good news is that his employer is a university and his job description includes the word “research” — followed, unfortunately, by the word “assistant,” which translates into part-time status and lab chores far from the cutting edge.

Maybe in 10 years he’ll get an assistant professorship. Or maybe not — in which case he’ll be 40 years old and nowhere. In the meantime, he lives in a ratty ¥40,000-a-month apartment, eats at the university cafeteria and wonders, “How long can I take this?” It’s enough to make the private sector look attractive — but an exploratory foray into it showed that the private sector did not return the compliment. Knowledge beyond a certain range of commercial exploitability, comments Shukan Gendai, is to the private sector the rough equivalent of otaku-hood.

“Takada-san,” 26, is pursuing a doctorate in literature at the University of Tokyo. He’s learning something the great books don’t teach — to wit: “To get anywhere in research you need connections. I didn’t know that when I started. You need to develop relationships with influential professors who can boost your career.

“So, I get involved in academic meetings, I help out at the reception desk, I coach visiting overseas students. … In short, I’m so busy maneuvering behind the scenes that I have no time to study.”

This is ironic, in view of the importance society attaches to education. Arrestingly symbolic, as the back-to-school season nears, is the iconic randoseru elementary school rucksack. The word, borrowed from Dutch, reflects the age and origin of the import, harking back as it does to the early 19th century, when a restricted number of Dutch traders were almost the only foreigners permitted in Japan. They bequeathed to their hosts a few European books, a smattering of the Dutch language, a bit of European science (and a hunger for more) — and the randoseru. Japanese kids have been saddled with it ever since.

It’s no light burden. And it’s gaining weight, as the Asahi Shimbun noted last week. Carrying a full load of books, lunch, gym clothes and whatnot, it can weigh nearly 10 kilograms. The 7-year-old second-grader gamely bracing against its downward thrust probably weighs little more than 20 kg him- or herself.

Why should the venerable randoseru be gaining weight? Because, the Asahi explains, textbooks are. There’s so much to learn! Never more than now, and more and more each year as knowledge, competition, pressure and standards rise. As of 2015, after six years of elementary schooling, an average child will have carried (and hopefully read) a total of 6,518 textbook pages — representing a 34 percent increase in 10 years. Moral education, a new subject swelling the curriculum beginning this year, will add, over six years, an estimated 1,067 pages to the load.

“Higher” education, meanwhile, languishes. “Higher education” used to mean, simply, college. A hundred years ago less than half the population got beyond elementary school, which alone was compulsory. College was for the lucky and gifted few.

Postwar democracy flung open the academic gates. What had been a mark of distinction became more or less a necessity to anyone with white-collar aspirations. Today, “higher education” means — if it means anything — not university education per se but learning for its own sake, and Shukan Gendai’s coverage is not encouraging.

It shows the number of Ph.D. students declining at a rate the declining student-age population only partly accounts for: 14,927 nationwide in 2016 as against 18,232 in 2003.

Philosophy remains a popular university alternative to raw science. Each year brings forth 1,000-odd newly fledged philosophers. They can’t all be professors. Most will have to leave academia and seek their fortunes in the “real world.” As what? Doing what? In an age of post-truth and artificial intelligence, who needs philosophers?

*Michael Hoffman is the author of “In the Land of the Kami: A Journey into the Hearts of Japan” and “Other Worlds.”

Source:

https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2018/03/31/national/media-national/much-education-bad-future/#.WsMQOYjwbIU

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