I have seen the benefits of aid to India

As you walk through Delhi’s slums, you realise the enormous scale of the problems India faces.

I’ve just returned from visiting Save the Children programmes in India, where I saw that all eyes were fixed on London for the Olympics. When asked in a Delhi slum if the Queen and James Bond really had parachuted into the opening ceremony, I’m afraid I couldn’t bring myself to tell the children that they hadn’t , but it showed how the Games have shone a spotlight on the UK. As the Olympics close next week, David Cameron will host a summit of world leaders to try and address hunger and malnutrition. The convergence of global attention on London provides an opportunity to galvanise political commitment to tackle these critical issues, which each year mean that 2.6 million children die before their fifth birthday.

Having visited India before, I knew it was a place of enormous contrasts; death is part of life and life can be desperately cheap. I was, however, still shocked to learn that in India nearly 5,000 children die every day.  Can you imagine the outrage if 5,000 children died every day in a war? A major cause of these deaths is malnutrition, which weakens children so their bodies can’t withstand routine illnesses like diarrhoea and pneumonia.  Almost half of India’s children that do survive are stunted, meaning their bodies and brains don’t develop properly due to lack of nutrition.

In Delhi, I visited the Okhla slum, home to some 100,000 of the most marginalised people. Many of the slum dwellers are migrants from rural India who, ironically, came to Delhi in search of a better life. Okhla is like much of Delhi; chaotic and vibrant, the skyline breached by hotels, factories and businesses. It is as you delve deeper in to the winding, rubbish strewn streets that you realise the sheer size of the slum. It was in Okhla that I met Kusum and her baby daughter, Ritu.

Ritu was born nine months ago, the sixth of Kusum’s children. Her eldest child is 16 years old, born shortly after Kusum’s marriage at the age of 15.  Ritu was severely underweight at birth, weighing just three and a half pounds. At nine months, she is about the size of my own four month old daughter.  For Kusum, life is a daily battle to find enough food to feed her six children, with wheat the staple food in the slums and vegetables incredibly difficult to afford.  Kusum told me that Save the Children’s mobile health unit allows her to seek regular medical advice and treatment, without which she’s not sure what would happen to Ritu. She may not be sure but I’m certain what would happen to her.

The mobile health unit is a free service provided to the community for women and children. The unit I visited was well equipped with medical stocks, and I watched professional and dedicated doctors and staff dispensing diagnosis and treatment for a broad range of ailments and infections.  Importantly, the doctors also provide education to the local community about health, hygiene and sanitation, in order to reduce the reoccurrence of preventable diseases.  On the day I visited, and despite monsoon rains, the mobile health unit treated over 200 patients from Okhla alone. 

There are those who question British aid to India. At a time when India is investing in a space programme and our economy is in recession, with severe cuts being made to vital local services in our communities, that is understandable. But seeing the benefit that the poorest gain from lifesaving interventions such as this, justifies Save the Children’s investment in India and the Department for International Development’s largely well-targeted aid programme.  And as you walk through Delhi’s slums, with children scavenging piles of rubbish in search of food to eat or scraps to sell, you realise the enormous scale of the problems India faces. 

The elephant in the room is the extent to which India, a brilliant and proud nation, can better ensure that it invests its own resources in the most effective way – given our historic links, a diplomatic minefield for the UK and a huge challenge for India. Fundamentally though, for the UK to behave as a responsible member of the international community, it is right to take action that saves lives every day.

The government is right to convene next week’s meeting of world leaders to address the crisis of malnutrition, which is responsible for 300 children’s deaths around the world every single hour.  But to turn the tide on this endemic problem, one summit will clearly not be enough.  Next year, as the UK hosts the G8, there is a real opportunity to further galvanise global action to address hunger.  And to truly demonstrate his commitment to tackling poverty, Cameron must now introduce the long-promised legislation committing 0.7% of national income to aid, and secure a brighter future for millions of children like Ritu.

Labour MP Dan Jarvis listens to slum dwellers in Delhi.

Dan Jarvis is the Labour MP for Barnsley Central and a former Major in the Parachute Regiment.

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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times