WORLD BRIDGE BLOG

When was the last time you heard someone refer to the “voiceless,” either in the context of their work, (e.g., “I am an advocate for the “voiceless”) or in reference to the plight of a specific group of people, likely in a developing country?

I remember hearing the “voiceless” narrative as a kid and thinking (if I’m being honest here) of African refugees, sitting in camps, waiting around silently and helplessly for someone to rescue them, without capacity to speak up for themselves.

And in my time working in the policy and advocacy fields in Washington, I have heard this portrayal repeatedly. Certainly not from ill-intentioned people. Heck, I’m sure I myself have been guilty of this sort of talk before. But I think it’s time that we – particularly those of us working to influence humanitarian policy issues in Washington –disassociate ourselves from this type of language and way of thinking.

Why, you ask?

Well, for one, the “voiceless” narrative is arrogant. For us in the humanitarian sphere to depict those in the developing world, on whose behalf we aim to help, as silent, helpless human beings assumes incorrectly that we, the educated experts in the West have a more complete understanding of their needs than they do.

Second, it’s untrue that people in the developing world are “voiceless,” silent or helpless individuals. Anyone who has worked in DR Congo, for example, knows that displaced Congolese– many of whom have lived through the horrors of war for years – have an extremely acute understanding of the needs of their families and communities. They aren’t unthinking, helpless people; on the contrary, they are smart, resourceful, dynamic, outspoken, and even willful. They are fully capable of determining what they do and do not need. Interacting with displaced Congolese men, women, and children over the past few weeks, I’ve found that the Congolese are their own best advocates.

Yesterday, we met with local civil society leaders in Kiwanja – a village located about 2 hours north of Goma in Ruthshuru territory. They spoke to us for over an hour, and then delivered a 4-page letter, each page filled from front to back, detailing the security and humanitarian situation in the area, citing examples where their government, police, and military, and even international aid organizations had failed them, and providing recommendations for us to take back to U.S. and UN policymakers. These people are not “voiceless”.

We also met with a group of women and men at a displacement camp near the peacekeeping base. They had been displaced in 2008 due to the conflict between the CNDP rebel group and the Congolese Army (FARDC), and had been living in the camp ever since. When we arrived, we were directed to the camp chief, who took us into a room and began sharing the needs and concerns of the community. In less than a minute, about 30 women had walked in and filled the room to take part in the meeting. They fired off a list of the needs in their community –plastic sheeting being the number one request – and spoke to the challenges of life in the camp. “Voiceless?” Absolutely not!

Ultimately, our hope is to amplify and to carry these already powerful voices – with integrity and humility – to the halls of Congress, the White House, the State Department, the Defense Department, and the United Nations. We aim to reiterate their compelling talking points and advocacy messages, and work to bring their voices and their stated concerns and needs to the forefront of U.S. and UN policy.

So let’s remove the inapt term, “voiceless” from our vocabulary, our mission statements, our “about us” sections on our websites, our advocacy campaigns, our slogans, our talking points, our speeches, our letters to donors and constituents, etc., and let’s start treating people with dignity and respect.