Water: a most precious commodity and a basic right

Thousands die every day from the consequences of drinking from tainted sources. We can make a differ

It’s easy to take water for granted. While the current drought in parts of the UK means that some of us are facing temporary restrictions such as hosepipe bans, we all know that when we turn on the tap there will be enough safe, clean water for our daily needs, from drinking to washing and cooking.

In parts of Africa and Asia, the value of water is felt much more deeply.  “Water is everything. Once you have water you have hope for tomorrow,” explains Alice Nirere from Ntarama village, Rwanda, where WaterAid installed a new rainwater harvesting system last year. “Things have changed a lot now we have water near to us; we don’t have to toil anymore.”

At WaterAid, our vision is of a world where everyone has access to safe water, sanitation and hygiene. Over the past seven years, the New Statesman and its subscribers have been helping us step closer to this goal, donating over £25,000 to our work to improve access to these vital services in communities across Africa and Asia. That’s over 1,600 lives changed; from children who are healthy and no longer missing school to women and girls who are able to spend time with their families, get an education or earn a living.

The transformation brought by safe water and toilets is clear to see. In the villages of Ambolotarakely and Manjaka in rural Madagascar, WaterAid is working in partnership with communities to install water points, build latrines and school toilets and set up handwashing facilities. As a result, the villages have seen a huge reduction in diseases related to water and sanitation, and school attendance has shot up. As well as providing clean, safe water to drink, the run-off water from the village water points is used to grow vegetables to sell – an important source of income in an area ranked among the poorest in Madagascar.

Sadly, this example is far from the reality for millions of people in the world’s poorest communities. In fact, a staggering 783 million people are currently living without this most basic necessity. For these communities, finding water is a daily struggle, with women and children spending hours each day walking to collect water from unsafe sources such as streams, ponds and unprotected wells. Along with poor sanitation, this dirty water causes diseases that kill 4,000 children every day.

This can be prevented. Having clean water and toilets available close to home not only saves lives but transforms them too.  It helps communities take the first, essential steps out of poverty. Free from the burdens of illness and hours spent fetching water, time can be spent in more productive ways such as working, taking care of children or going to school. The impact is so huge that for every £1 spent on water and sanitation, £8 is returned in increased productivity (UNDP Human Development Report, 2006).

On a global scale, progress is being made, and earlier this year the UN reported that the Millennium Development Goal (MDG) to halve the proportion of people worldwide living without safe water had been met. While this is undoubtedly a significant achievement, a renewed effort to reach the nearly 800 million still without access to clean water, and the 2.5 billion who have nowhere safe to go to the toilet, remains critical. With current slow rates of progress making the target for providing sanitation one of the most off track MDGs, world leaders need to take action now to tackle this crisis.

The numbers may sound daunting, but a world where everyone has access to safe water to drink is achievable, and could be only a generation away. Universal access to both clean water and adequate sanitation could save the lives of 2.5 million people who die every year from diseases caused by dirty water and the lack of toilets. With the help from supporters such as the New Statesman, we will keep working to make this a reality.

Barbara Frost is Chief Executive of Water Aid

Find out more about WaterAid’s work at www.wateraid.org

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It's easy to see where Berlin is being rebuilt – just hit the streets

My week, from walking the streets of Berlin to class snobbery and the right kind of gentrification.

Brick by brick, block by block, the people are rebuilding the city once called Faust’s Metropolis. To see it clearly, put your boots on. One of the most bracing walks starts by the Gethsemane Church, which served as a haven for dissenters in the last days of the GDR and takes you down ­towards the Hackescher Markt.

Here, in what is still the eastern half of a divided city that wears its division more lightly, is a Berlin experience both old and new. In three decades of frequent visits, it has been fascinating to note how much this part of town has changed. Even a decade ago these streets were rundown. With crumbling buildings showing bulletholes, it wasn’t hard to imagine what the place looked like in 1945. Now there are lilacs, blues, and yellows. Cafés, bars and restaurants abound, serving the young professionals attracted to the city by cheap rents and a renewed sense of community.

 

Breaking the fourth wall

Looking north along Schliemannstraße, you’ll find a delightful vista of well-tended balconies. It’s a pleasant place to live, notwithstanding the gaggle of grotesques who gather round the corner in the square. On Kastanienallee, which forms the second leg of the walk, an old city feels young. It’s a kind of gentrification but the right kind. There’s more to eat, to drink, to buy, for all.

Berlin, where Bertolt Brecht staged his unwatchable plays, was supposed to have been transformed by a proletarian revolution. Instead, it has been restored to health by a very middle-class one. Germany has always had a well-educated middle class, and the nation’s restoration would have impossible without such people. The irony is delicious – not that irony buttered many parsnips for “dirty Bertie”.

 

The new snobbery

The British Museum’s survey of German history “Memories of a Nation” is being presented at the Martin-Gropius-Bau as “The British View”. Germans, natürlich, are curious to see how we observe them. But how do they see us?

A German friend recently in England  said that the images that struck him most forcibly were the tins of food and cheap booze people piled up in supermarkets, and the number of teenage girls pushing prams. Perhaps Neil MacGregor, the former director of the British Museum who will shortly take up a similar role here at the new Humboldt Forum, may turn his attention to a “German View” of the United Kingdom.

There’s no shortage of material. In Schlawinchen, a bar that typifies Kreuzberg’s hobohemia, a college-educated English girl was trying to explain northern England to an American she had just met. Speaking in an ugly modern Mancunian voice that can only be acquired through years of practice (sugar pronounced as “sug-oar”), she refer­red to Durham and York as “middle class, you know, posh”, because those cities had magnificent cathedrals.

When it comes to inverted snobbery, no nation can match us. To be middle class in Germany is an indication of civic value. In modern England, it can mark you as a leper.

 

Culture vultures

The Humboldt Forum, taking shape by the banks of the Spree, reconsecrates the former site of the GDR’s Palace of the Republic. When it opens in 2018 it will be a “living exhibition”, dedicated to all the cultures of the world. Alexander von Humboldt, the naturalist and explorer, was the brother of Wilhelm, the diplomat and philosopher, whose name lives on in the nearby university.

In Potsdamerplatz there are plans to build a modern art museum, crammed in between the Neue Nationalgalerie and the Philharmonie, home to the Berlin Philharmonic. Meanwhile, the overhaul of the Deutsche Staatsoper, where Daniel Barenboim is music director for life, is likely to be completed, fingers crossed, next autumn.

Culture everywhere! Or perhaps that should be Kultur, which has a slightly different meaning in Germany. They take these things more seriously, and there is no hint of bogus populism. In London, plans for a new concert hall have been shelved. Sir Peter Hall’s words remain true: “England is a philistine country that loves the arts.”

 

European neighbours

When Germans speak of freedom, wrote A J P Taylor, a historian who seems to have fallen from favour, they mean the freedom to be German. No longer. When modern Germans speak of freedom, they observe it through the filter of the European Union.

But nation states are shaped by different forces. “We are educated to be obedient,” a Berlin friend who spent a year at an English school once told me. “You are educated to be independent.” To turn around Taylor’s dictum: when the English speak of freedom,
they mean the freedom to be English.

No matter what you may have heard, the Germans have always admired our independence of spirit. We shall, however, always see “Europe” in different ways. Europe, good: we can all agree on that. The European Union, not so good. It doesn’t mean we have to fall out, and the Germans are good friends to have.

 

Hook, line and sinker

There are fine walks to be had in the west, too. In Charlottenburg, the Kensington of Berlin, the mood is gentler, yet you can still feel the city humming. Here, there are some classic places to eat and drink – the Literaturhauscafé for breakfast and, for dinner, Marjellchen, a treasure trove of east Prussian forest delights. Anything that can be shot and put in a pot!

For a real Berlin experience, though, head at nightfall for Zwiebelfisch, the great tavern on Savignyplatz, and watch the trains glide by on the other side of Kantstraße. Hartmut Volmerhaus, a most amusing host, has been the guvnor here for more than 30 years and there are no signs that his race is run. The “Fisch” at twilight: there’s nowhere better to feel the pulse of this remarkable city. 

This article first appeared in the 01 December 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Age of outrage