How repaying loans with social service transforms communities Angie Murimirwa
Most of you will know
about the challenges faced
by my beloved continent, Africa.
Too many people are poor.
Millions of girls
don’t have access to school.
And there aren’t enough jobs
for the rapidly growing population.
Every day,
33,000 new young people
join the search for employment.
That’s 12 million
for three million formal jobs.
In sub-Saharan Africa,
less than one in four young people
are likely to get waged or salaried work.
The chances of making a secure living
are even slimmer
for poor and rural young women.
They cannot afford an education.
And they do not have the same access
to wages, loans or land
as men.
This leaves entire communities trapped
in a vicious cycle of poverty,
inequality and hopelessness.
But I’m not here
to narrate the doom and gloom,
because we also know
that a youthful population
presents an opportunity
to kick-start economic growth
and solve global challenges.
And in fact,
there is a growing movement in Africa,
of educated young women,
who are stepping up and using
the power of their network
and a tool we call social interest
to uplift communities.
I’m one of the leaders
of the organization behind this movement.
An organization that also
supported me through school.
And I have seen social interest
multiply the impact of our work.
Social interest is a way
to pay back interest on a loan
through service, rather than dollars.
Sharing time and knowledge
through mentoring,
academic support,
business training to others in need.
This means the impact of a loan
is felt not by one, but by many.
Through this system,
we’ve been able to help
and send more and more girls to school,
support them while they are there,
help them start businesses
and ultimately,
lead in their communities –
all while providing funding
for the next generation.
Social interest can be used
to supercharge any movement
where the benefits can be paid forward.
Let me give you an example.
This is Stumai from rural Tanzania.
She tragically lost her father
when she was just three years old.
Leaving a disabled mother
to single-handedly raise her
and her five siblings.
Once Stumai completed primary school,
she was about to drop out of school
and become one of the 92 percent
of girls in sub-Saharan Africa
that never finish high school.
Instead, she got lucky.
She got support from a nonprofit
that paid her fees
and kept her in school.
But upon graduating high school,
she faced a daunting challenge
of what’s next.
She knew she had to start
her own business to survive.
And to help her mother,
who had tried so hard
to keep her in school
by selling her only assets,
a stack of corrugated iron sheets
she had been saving
in the hope of building
a better home for her children.
Stumai also knew she wouldn’t get a loan
from a traditional bank,
which generally considers
young, rural women like her,
without land or assets, unbankable.
Through a special group
of lending partners,
she secured 350 dollars
to start a food shop,
selling vegetables, oil, rice,
tomatoes, onions and beans.
Fellow network members helped
to train her on basic business skills,
like creating a business plan,
working out profits, marketing,
keeping business records
and the value of savings.
And the business took off.
She repaid the original loan
within eight months,
and then borrowed 2,000 dollars
to start a motorcycle taxi
and courier business.
Stumai now owns two motorcycles
and employs two people.
And she has been able
to purchase land and build a house,
and the business continues to grow
from strength to strength.
Stumai repaid her interest
in social interest.
She paid social interest
by providing mentoring
to girls in a local high school.
She volunteered weekly as a learner guide,
delivering a life skills
and well-being curriculum
that helps children gain
the confidence to ask questions,
care for and support each other,
learn about health and nutrition,
set goals and learn how to achieve them.
Stumai says her greatest reward
is witnessing the girls she mentors
start to believe in themselves
and succeeding.
These days, Stumai also trains
other learner guides.
That’s multiplying the number of girls
making it through school
and into secure livelihoods like she did.
Through her business profits,
she has been able to support her siblings,
three nieces and nephews
and other children in her community
to go to school.
She also regularly supports
other network members.
For example,
a young woman studying for a diploma
in community development.
In the past two years,
Stumai helped her with money for bus fare,
for sanitary pads, for soap
and encouraged her to keep going.
Stumai spends 370 dollars a year
supporting the education of others.
That’s 17 percent of her gross earnings
from her motorcycle business.
This is the power of social interest.
Stumai’s example shows
that if you help one girl,
not only to go to school,
but graduate and start a business,
she can in turn make a giant difference
in the lives of others and her community.
Had Stumai paid back interest
on her loan in dollars,
her success might have been felt by her
and her immediate family,
but because she paid interest
as social interest,
the impact was felt by her mentees,
her nieces, nephews, her employees
and so many others around her.
Stumai is just one example of many.
Today, we have 7,000
learner guides like Stumai,
working across Malawi,
Tanzania, Ghana, Zambia and Zimbabwe.
And collectively,
they’ve helped children
do better in school.
The girls we work with
are nearly three times less likely
to drop out of school,
because learner guides make home visits
when girls fail to attend school
to help them back on track.
They also work with communities
and district governments
to address the challenges children face,
including preventing
or annulling child marriages,
connecting children facing hunger
or hardship at home
with local support,
or running study groups
so that children who might be
lagging behind in their studies
can get supporters and catch up.
They act as trusted sisters,
friends and guardians.
So far, nearly 6,300 network members
have borrowed close
to three million dollars,
with a repayment rate of those loans
at consistently above 95 percent.
And our 140,000 members,
they have invested their own resources
to support and send
over 937,000 children
to primary and secondary school.
Every young woman we work with
supports, on average,
another three children
outside of her immediate family
to go to school.
All without additional money from us.
We are building a powerful force.
Gaining ever greater momentum
as we open the door
for more and more girls
to go to school,
succeed, lead and in turn,
support thousands more.
This system,
supporting those once excluded
to transform their lives
and then step up for others,
can work for more than girls' education.
Of course, you need to get
your money back if you lend it.
But instead of demanding
interest in dollars,
can you consider using
social interest instead?
For example,
could young people
pass on the skills they learned
in training colleges?
Like Michelle,
who teaches brickmaking
in rural Zimbabwe.
Or Louisa,
who is training others
on climate-smart agriculture
in Malawi.
Or Fatima in Ghana,
who is training women
to help deliver babies
where expectant mothers
might not be able to make it
to the local hospital on time.
When I was growing up,
an elder in my village in rural Zimbabwe
once described the challenges I faced
in going to school.
She said,
“Those who harvest many pumpkins
often do not have the clay pots
to cook them in.”
(Laughter)
What she meant was that,
although I got the best possible
results in my exams
when I finished elementary school,
my talent was of no value
if my family could not afford
to pay for me to continue my education.
Well, with this system,
we are not just providing pots,
or making a single meal
out of the pumpkins.
After all,
there are hundreds
of seeds in a single pumpkin.
We are saving the seeds,
planting them
and nurturing every one of them.
And the result?
A virtuous cycle of prosperity,
equality and hope,
led by young women.
Because together,
we are shaking up the world.
Pamoja tunaweza –
that’s Swahili for my network motto:
“Together we can!”
Thank you.
(Applause)