Is it the man in the green shirt? Close, but no. He’s an elder. Does he have a beard? Yes, but a longer beard. Ok, so he will definitely be wearing a hat. Is it the man in the red beanie? No, that’s the Chairman. From the moment we pulled into the village of Namdu One, our real-life game of “Guess Who” began. Although we share fond memories of playing the Hasbro classic, today the stakes were raised. We were sure that every older and regal-looking man that we met was certainly the Chief of Namdu One. But when we subtly looked to Khadijah for confirmation, she laughed and shook her head.
There was a lot riding on today. Our objective was to pitch our project, which would fundamentally alter daily life in Namdu One. We had planned to spend the morning familiarizing ourselves with the community and surveying how household met their energy needs. But community members enthusiastically shepherded us to the second chief’s palace immediately after we stepped out of the car. “No, they are not the Chief,” Khadijah softly giggled.
“Gaffara” we announced before slipping off our Choco sandals and ducking our heads beneath the open entry. Two older men gracefully slid out a hand-woven reed mat for us to sit on, and began to engage us in what can only be described as village small talk. And as we patiently waited between translations, we couldn’t help but get lost in the beautiful and unfamiliar oddities that surrounded us. Directly overhead hung mobiles of maize: delicately woven heads of corn suspended like chandeliers. The end of a tree fiber rope was looped around the big toe of the second chief. We watched with fascination as he twisted and braided the cord, working to add to his collection of bolts that dangled from the straw roof above us. Although we could have spent hours committing this room to memory, the elders quickly led us to the Chief’s palace for our impromptu meeting.
As progressively older and wiser men entered the narrow door, we waited with anticipation and a touch of apprehension. Silently, we continued our game of “Guess Who”, knowing that a well-rehearsed delivery lay just a few moments ahead. Amid the chatter, an older man entered, brushed off some hanging animal skins, and sat apart from the group that had amassed before us. This was our Chief. After ceremoniously biting and passing around a kola nut, I swallowed the surprisingly bitter sacrament and began the presentation.
Despite the serious tone of this meeting, there was nothing like the clown-car-like effect of more and more men filing into the small dome-shaped building to calm my nerves. Chickens snuck in and out, children peered in from outside, and the community received us warmly. This was not the challenge we had anticipated. Within the first ten minutes of our meeting, the Chief had accepted our project proposal, and was prepared to begin construction. Woo!
For me, making a big decision is often a drawn-out process of pro and con lists, comparative research, and exhaustive personal reflection. I appreciated the Chief’s decisiveness. I cannot say whether it was the project that spoke for itself, a cultural difference, or an individual personality trait that made the Chief’s decision such an easy one. In any case, this was the first big accomplishment of our project. Tomorrow we will meet our partners, the village-selected women entrepreneurs, and we plan to break ground on the solar center in a couple of days.
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