Rapid transfers are the slipping clutch of the development administration. They upset and incapacitate fieldwork. Periodic transfers of officials when they are due are explainable. But out of-turn transfers for no valid reason are the real bane. They demoralize the sincere ones and also disrupt the administration because the officer may still be in the learning mode by the time he is transferred. The officer who replaces him will have to undergo the same cycle before he gets going with his task.

Transfers of field staff are made for many reasons, including political pressures and to solve personnel problems. Transfers usually trigger a chain reaction in which one post[1]ing sparks others. Transfers often serve as a strong weapon for solving administrative problems. Consequently, officials are constantly moved. The other main reason for transfer is inefficiency, corruption and indiscipline.

In such cases transfer is not necessarily the appropriate solution. The problem at the centre at which the errant staff is working may get resolved but a new set of problems will start emerging when the person reports at the new centre. It is only the locus that shifts. Rural postings are mostly perceived as punishments and at times sincere workers may become targets of vendetta.

If a serious error is committed, or a powerful politician offended, accountability has to be fixed and a few heads have to roll. Sometimes an innocent officer may earn a penal posting, to serve out punishment time: a remote area without proper amenities; in short, a place where frustration will abound. Officers accept rural postings as interim schedules or transit assignments and prefer to bide their time instead of involving wholeheartedly in the work.

You have a wife or a husband to support, a mortgage to pay, children in school. You are tempted to throw in the towel but the mart of daily strife keeps you hitched to the job. In my career, I would think several times before going up to my boss and uttering the dreaded words, I want to quit won’t obey this order, it is not quite correct to implement this or that.

There is no dearth of upright and courageous people. But you need tremendous courage to stand up against an unjust act. You have to be ready to cope with an unsaid risk ~ a witch hunt. One of the easiest ways of frightening tough officers is to make baseless accusations. There are so many bear traps, and it’s so easy for the state to net you. It requires great mental toughness to retain your self-respect.

Many weapons are available against those who do not get on with their bosses, including transfers or ordering an inquiry into tutored complaints. The inquiry may finally exonerate you but who will compensate for the precious time lost, the agony faced, and the damage to the reputation during the transition. You may be passed over for promotion.

Over time, many become apathetic; and a large number not only respond to political needs, they actively anticipate the needs and collaborate with politicians. In such a dispiriting scenario, committed development workers may feel that their position is hopeless, that there is nothing they can do. The system is too strong for them.

Perhaps the best antidote to this despair is to study the examples and lives of those who fight against the odds and succeed. There are always some courageous people ~ political and religious leaders, civil servants, civil society activists, academics, scientists, and others ~ who have refused to give in, who have stuck to their principles and whose lives shine as examples to others of what can be done.

True, the system is a mighty Goliath but that doesn’t mean your hands are fully tied. There are so many small ways in which you can continue to practice fairness. For those who side with the poor, there may be unexpected floods of support. These small moves build up an aggregate pressure which can be used at an opportune time to dictate the right agenda.

You must remember that you are not alone in the cause you are espousing. There are so many who are voluntarily emboldening you without being noticed. The newspaper article praises you. Then there may be some politicians genuinely impressed by your work.

Several times, risks rather than status quo have provided windfalls to a reformist official. A change in government brightens the stars of the anti-establishment officer in the outgoing government. But not all can expect recognition or become folk heroes. For most of those who put the last first, the satisfaction and rewards are not fame, but in knowing that they have done what was right and that things are, however slightly, better than they would have been.

Their small deeds may not command attention; but in merit, they may equal or exceed the greater and more conspicuous actions of those with more freedom, pelf and power. Several development successes have occurred in less-than-optimal settings and often under appalling conditions of weak governance, widespread corruption, minimal infrastructure, deep-rooted social divisions and a poorly functioning judicial system.

In each case, creative individuals saw possibilities where others saw hopelessness. They imagined a way forward that took into account local realities and built on local strengths. They were willing to experiment and ignore the sceptics until the sceptics became supporters and often partners working to bring about change on a larger scale.

Gandhi’s mantra is the most soothing credo in such moments and endeavours: First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win. Some workers have shown personal courage and great ingenuity in creating safe spaces in which they pursue development work. Their reward is not early promotion or transfer.

They have to keep their families far away in towns where they can have access to basic facilities for education and healthcare. They themselves stay at a place that may not provide them any security. Their transfer is ruled out because there are no easy replacements for them. Though much rural development is welcomed by the whole population and does not involve personal risk for outsiders, it certainly involves conflicts of interest where the weak are dominated and exploited by the powerful.

Where that happens, many of the poor and those who work with and for them face abuse, discrimination, and danger: they are often threatened; some are assaulted, and some are even killed. Berating or patronising rural folks is both culturally and professionally the most undesirable extension of a development professional’s trait.

But still, we see most professionals continue to suffer from these inconsistencies. The inability to put ourselves in the shoes of the poor and to keep on living the same way thinking thank God I don’t have to live that way just doesnt work. Unfortunately, most aid personnel have cultivated this mindset and approach. Much and warranted attention is paid to the lives of recipients of aid and benefits of social programmes – their households, saving habits, gender relations, etc. It’s held that a key to measuring the effectiveness of aid is contained in such details.

Rarely, however, is the lens turned on the lives of development workers themselves: how workers moral beliefs interlink and conflict with their initial motivations, how they relate to aid beneficiaries, their local NGO peers, and other staff, the effect of transient lifestyles and insider language, and the security and family issues that come with choosing such a career. Personal courage and values count. Whatever refined city values we hold so dear, they are tested in this field.

Peaceful coexistence with political agents remains an ongoing challenge. We have abundant examples of people who have renounced their ambrosia of social and political positions and pledged their lives for empowering the disenfranchised. There is much innovation and even heroism and sacrifice by the staff of development agencies known only to project beneficiaries and other staff, which is not only left anonymous but also undocumented. We should applaud and honour ordinary people, who have nobody to back them, yet are working doggedly to keep projects rolling.

The real development story is an aggregate of initiatives led by extraordinary people, few of them known and the vast majority of them unknown. These practical idealists demonstrated passion, intellect, and gritty determination and were supported by heroic, skilful, and inspiring field staff. It doesnt require a flash of genius or invention of any radical idea to change the storyline. What is ultimately needed is practical compassion. Pairing experts with on the ground teams and field workers has yielded many good ideas about how to address the problems of disadvantaged populations.

There is one lesson these positive, inspirational stories bring to mind: Be the change you want to see. Everywhere, we hear people talking about a crisis of leadership, yet we constantly meet extraordinary leaders who tenaciously take on the world’s toughest problems, even at risks to their lives and reputation. As the great Nigerian novelist, Chinua Achebe wrote: Leadership is a sacred trust like priesthood in civilized, humane religions. No one gets into it lightly or unadvisedly because it demands qualities of mind and discipline, of body and will, far beyond the need of the ordinary citizens.