Since the 1990’s, non-governmental organizations (“NGOs”) have become one of the most influential actors in the water politics of Africa. For instance, in Kenya from 1996 to 2003, the number of registered NGOs grew explosively, from 511 to over 2,500 total organizations (Hearn, 2007). Also, estimates now show that NGOs may be supplying more capital into African infrastructure development projects than the World Bank (Mohan, 2002). Given I have not addressed them yet, this final blog post seems like a good opportunity to discuss their effectiveness in influencing water infrastructure development across Africa.

A key important aspect of how NGOs are intended to operate is in their name: they are non-governmental. This deliberate separation of organisation from state allows them to remain detached from the agendas of developed countries. However, they are widely criticized for how they have become increasingly politicized as they seek funding which often ties them to donors with western agendas. For instance, although the primary goal of development NGOs is to positively influence the promotion of economic development, Gosh, 2009 asserts that their credibility is hampered by how they are accountable to their donors and not their beneficiaries. Thus, there arise conflicts of interest where donors may levy their position to insist on certain projects versus others that may not necessarily be in the best interests of a community.

Zakiya, 2014 describes this complex relationship as “philanthrocapitalism” where wealthy angel investors link their funds through NGOs into the developing world under the mask of corporate responsibility. This creates the problem of “quantiphilia” where NGOs are not just interested in helping communities grow and expand their water infrastructure, networks and economy, but they are fixated on measurable results to report, leading to a system where data and algorithms may hold more input to water investment allocation than the input of local political actors. This issue is amplified by the distances between donors from the water consumers, removing influential decision-makers from the reality of the field, shown below.

Figure 1: Path From International NGO To Water Provision, Rusca and Schwartz, 2012

However, the fact that local peoples have significantly greater understanding of the local ecology and water needs in their community is not lost on NGOs. They are typically efficient in utilising indigenous knowledge to improve the overall efficiency of water development projects. NGOs tend to be advocates of endogenous development as well, where the water project is designed to meet the local criteria and needs of the community, and they are responsible for the project to build a sense of identity with it. Mixing these two together allows for a project to be “by the people, for the people” and creates community solidarity and cooperation in a project. However, some academics are concerned that, similar to reservations that IWRM is becoming simply a “prescription” pill to issue to local communities on water management (Giordano and Shah, 2013), the use of indigenous knowledge and endogenous development may become just another “development fad” used by NGOs while still serving western interests (Fernando, 2003).

Reading through articles and literature on NGO project outcomes, I noticed most optimistic reports come from dialogue created by NGOs and critical reports come from scientific literature. Rusca and Schwartz, 2012 paints a picture of how WaterAid, one of the largest NGOs in water development, implements projects via a case study of two programs in Lilongwe and Maputo. In both cases, the objectives involved creating a centralized water management system and the implementation of a tariff collecting system. In both cases, projects were successful in expanding water access networks in both cities, but two concerning trends were noted: 1) the billing system was concerningly high, representing on average 9% of the minimum wage per month, with projects only built in targeted areas with high ability-to-pay, and 2) although sustainability was initially claimed as a primary goal, “relevant aspects for long-term sustainability, such as technical and operational aspects of water services, were neglected” (Rusca and Schwartz, 2012). The authors note that the issue with high water tariffs results from the results-oriented structure WaterAid is subject to in donor reporting, whereas the sustainability concerns arose from weak integration of the local political structures to gain consent on the scope of the project and ensure community participation.

However, not all literature is critical of NGOs and their outcomes in water projects. Bratton, 1989 asserts that in measuring how successful NGOs are in their goals, it must be done objectively and empirically, and success measurements must be checked by monitoring the NGO. He also comments on how most positive reports are generated internally by NGOs but agrees that evidence defends how assistance from NGOs has been shown to improve certain necessary health services, such as sanitation and water access. Moreover, it appears that NGOs can also be more effective in addressing water issues in Africa due to the motivation of field staffs, who often care greatly for the project outcome and people it affects.  

I don’t intend to overly criticize NGOs. They have placed more funds into developing the water provisioning systems of Africa than almost any other community. They rely on dedicated staff who truly care to help the people they serve, and outcomes are often successful. However, akin to my commentary on the World Bank, there arises considerable structural concerns that degrade their ability to fully address water development. This tends to reflect what may be the greatest issue of development in Africa: western assistance there needs to avoid looking for quantifiable results or investment opportunities, and simply allow Africa to develop on its own terms while providing knowhow and assistance with the process.

In this blog post, I’ve decided to break down a bilateral treaty between the Kingdom of Lesotho and the Republic of South Africa. These two states have been working cooperatively over the last 30 years on the Lesotho Highlands Water Project (“LHWP”), a system of dams and hydropower that distributes water from the mountains of Lesotho into South Africa, creating hydroelectricity for Lesotho along the way.

It is important to note why the project has been such a success in meeting its intended goals. First, it stands as an example of successful bilateral cooperation between two countries as it relates to their various water rights and needs. Lesotho is not a large country and does not have the same water requirements as the large, dry South Africa. The area of South Africa that the LHWP serves, the Vaal Region, is of utmost economic importance to the region, as it constitutes 40% of the GDP of South Africa, and was becoming subject to a water crunch, projected to expand from a water deficit of 1.83 cubic meters per second in 1995 to 107 cubic meters per second in 2030 (Boadu, 1998). The project benefits Lesotho in turn by boosting the economy: the water project currently comprises 25% of the country’s annual export revenues and 14% of its government revenues over the following 50 years (Lesotho Highlands Development Authority, 2009). The hydroelectricity generated also comprises nearly all of the electricity requirements of Lesotho each year.

Figure 1: Katse Dam, the First Phase (IA) of the LHWP, Climate Home News, 2016

The negotiation of the agreement has been appraised for being particularly successful in maintaining equity via the negotiations of the project. The agreement could have been strongly one-sided in favour of South Africa. Similar to how Zeitoun and Warner, 2005 notes that water distribution of transboundary resources can have significantly unfair distributions in favour of a country with greater political clout, in this instance South Africa could have exercised significant political pressure to force Lesotho to comply with terms that were inequitable. Boadu, 1998 notes the two parties to the agreement were successful in negotiating a mutually beneficial treaty in two ways: “(1) by incorporating and building on the historical commonalities between the two countries rather than a costly search for new sources of trust and (2) by a joint undertaking to share the information cost for all the technical and non-technical aspects of the treaty.” Thus, the two countries decided to build upon positive historical relationships rather than attempt to swing the negotiations using power politics.

By negotiating in a way that takes overall equity into consideration, the project exemplifies how countries in Africa can develop cooperatively. When Mohale Dam, the second dam built under the LHWP, was inaugurated, South African president Thabo Mbeki declared:

"This project sparkles like a jewel in the crown of the Southern African Development Community (SADC) and the African Union, proving that we can, as Africans, accomplish sustainable development, to the mutual benefit of neighbouring countries and as an example of projects that are needed all over our continent to achieve our renaissance" (Lesotho Highlands Development Authority, 2004). 

South Africa could have taken an approach similar to the way that Egypt and Sudan handled provisioning of the water of the Nile. Most of the water used in these dams that tribute to water in South Africa originate in Lesotho, just as most of the tributaries to the Nile originate in Ethiopia. However, South Africa understood the important of cooperative development, and agreed to negotiate terms equitably.

However, any project that seems to fix so many problems, like providing new water resources to South Africa while generating energy and revenues for Lesotho, cannot be perfect. The greatest controversy of the project has been the overall relocation of many locals in Lesotho to develop the land for the dam structures. Hitchcock, 2015 assesses that approximately 573 families and another 20,000 people were indirectly affected by the first two stages of the LHWP. For the most part, this involved relocations to upland areas that are less agriculturally productive, and many of those relocated “become at least partially dependent on food relief and other livelihood supports provided by international relief agencies, state governments, and civil society.”

 Figure 1: Families Displaced During Phase 1A and 1B of LHWP, Hitchcock, 2015

Academics are also critical that, although the project has significant beneficial macroeconomic benefits for the country in aggregate, the local benefits are mostly distributed amongst the country’s elite (Hoover, 2001). The wealthier classes of the country do not tend to live in rural areas that could be subject to relocation, and have secured for themselves contract related to the project, so as to benefit from the surge of cash made available. Moreover, many decisions regarding the project have ignored community input and gone on without local participation, in order to minimize local political pushback. However, this has only garnered greater protest from the larger political scene, most notably from interest groups looking to influence public opinion against the LHWP (Meissner, 2016). 

However, many people have benefited from the LHWP as well. The project has brought life to the economy of Lesotho and improved the lives of many locals, as additional capital has allowed for investments in other aspects of the country’s infrastructure. One anecdote from a local claims that, although many people had to relocate,

"In general, life has changed, living standards have gone up, the highland people now have access to high-quality education, health facilities, clean water, and good roads,        - Mahlape Mothepu (Keketso, 2003).

So, like any other large infrastructural project related to water, the LHWP has generated significant costs and benefits for Lesotho and South Africa. Although the project could do better in garnering local political support, it has been notably successful as an example of bilateral transboundary water resource management. 

I have yet to break down the politics of water governance for any one country yet, so today have chosen to explore the water politics of Ghana and discuss what seem to be the primary successes and failures of water politics in the country since the 1990’s.

Before the 1990’s, water there was governed as a resource of the people but was distributed poorly and inefficiently. Starting in the mid 1990’s, Ghana increased its focus on providing water infrastructure to more rural developments. Under the administration of Jerry Rawlings, president of Ghana from 1993-2001, the government was concerned with finding ways to ensure that was distribution was fair and equitable, especially to the rural populations of the country.

The Water Resources Commission Act of 1996 created the Water Resources Commission (WRC) that used an integrated water resources management (IWRM) framework for resolving water-based infrastructure decisions. Later, the Community Water and Sanitation Agency (CWSA) was created to support local communities with rural water supply and sanitation (WaterAid, 2005). Under this IWRM framework, politics was concerned with ensuring all actors and shareholders with a stake in a water project were taken into consideration when making community plans to provide water improvements for the people.

Figure 1: List of Notable Policy Changes Regarding Water in Ghana (Oteng-Ababio, et al., 2017)

Following the growing popularity of neoliberal approaches to water development in Africa, Ghana made strong changes in the politics of their water management systems in 1998 when the Ghana Water and Sewage Corporation (GWSC) was broken apart and the Ghana Water Company Ltd. (GWCL) and Community Water and Sanitation Agency (CWSA) were created (Agyenim and Gupta, 2012).

This change in Ghana has been dominated by political institutions that prioritize neoliberal and western ideologies of development. Although Ghana has been largely successful using a model of private sector participation, this may not be the only solution requisite for distributing water to its growing population. For instance, a growing number of the rural poor are not getting access to improved water sources because multinational companies are unable to find it profitable in distributing to these communities. In the early 2000’s, many countries pulled back on investments that they found unprofitable; Vivendi and Saur both “stated that they will only participate in investments where consumers can pay enough to generate a ‘fair’ profit or where governments guarantee this level of profit” (Whitfield, 2007).

There are concerns that the introduction of private sector participation was, and continues to be, done in a manner that is unequitable to all and indicative of political corruption. Yeboah, 2006 asserts that the “the Eurocentrism surrounding Ghana’s water privatization does not originate with Western technocrats but with Ghanaian elite decisionmakers.” The author expresses concerns that politicians in Ghana are more concerned with following western ideologies for development, especially in terms of promoting private sector participation in order to employ World Bank funds, and that a realistic search for the best methods of solving the water problem in Ghana is not truly being explored in depth.

Furthermore, there is evidence to suggest that even though access to clean water has greatly improved across the country, the improvements have primarily occurred with certain groups, namely the urban middle and upper classes. In a 2010 report by the World Health Organization on African countries and their successes or failures in providing improved water sources, access to improved water sources in Ghana increased from 56 to 89%, reducing the gap from 44 to 11%, significantly outpacing the improvements of other African countries (World Health Organization, 2010). However, if you look to see where most of the water infrastructure improvements have been made, research “shows that the progress bypassed those who occupied the lowest ebb of the economic ladder located in disadvantaged communities creating pockets of chronic water stress areas with periphery conditions being more pronounced” (Oteng-Ababio, et al., 2017). Other researchers are concerned that not only are the urban poor not getting access to clean water, but that in many cases they may be paying more for it, whilst receiving water that is of lower quality (Owusu-Mensah, 2017).

This is no surprise that the urban poor and rural people are given unfair distribution of water resources in Ghana, as Morinville and Harris, 2014 finds that local community participation in water management is very low for the country, and that a lower proportion of people are involved in making community decisions for water infrastructure there than in comparable African countries.

Because of this, many groups are calling for greater inclusion of local people and overall participation in the decision-making process surround water projects. For instance, the National Coalition Against Water Privatization in Ghana works to “promote public delivery, ownership and management through community participation to ensure equity and equal right to potable water and also advocate for constitutional reform to make water a right” (Whitfield, 2007). 

Because of this, many groups are calling for greater inclusion of local people and overall participation in the decision-making process surround water projects. For instance, the National Coalition Against Water Privatization in Ghana works to “promote public delivery, ownership and management through community participation to ensure equity and equal right to potable water and also advocate for constitutional reform to make water a right” (Whitfield, 2007). This group has worked hard towards this end ever since the private sector increased its role in water politics in Ghana at the turn of the 21^st century. The group has only been partly successful and relies greatly on the strong efforts of a few people, but it plays an important role in the opposition voice of private sector participation within the country.

In summary, water development in Ghana has been mostly successful, at least more successful than other sub-Saharan Africa countries. However, there remains questions of how equitable the distribution of water is within the country as it relates to private sector distribution choices. Going forward, it may be that private sector may not be the best answer for rural communities, and a more localized approach of community water management may continue to grow in popularity.

In today’s post I will explore one of the most influential global actors that affects the politics of water systems in Africa: The World Bank.

The World Bank has, since the early 1970’s, been one of the most influential institutions that has provided funding to African countries to help them expand and develop. Founded by various economists in 1944, such as John Maynard Keynes, the institution was founded with intentions to assist developing countries by providing them with the capital necessary to invest in poverty reduction and infrastructure improvement. The World Bank still follows its founding function. If you look on their website under “What We Do” the organization provides the following definition: “We provide a wide array of financial products and technical assistance, and we help countries share and apply innovative knowledge and solutions to the challenges they face” (World Bank Website).

However, the World Bank is often under scrutiny by many politicians and academics, and justly so. It has built a reputation as serving significant western political agendas by convincing African states to agree to certain terms as a means of securing desirable funding. Normally, this takes the condition of agreeing to privatize the water systems of a certain part of a country, as much of the time “a ‘highly indebted poor country’ cannot borrow capital from the World Bank or IMF without a domestic water privatization policy as a pre-condition” (Goldman, 2007).

Many financiers and economists who follow Neoliberal ways of thinking argue that allowing market mechanisms to moderate water distributions will improve efficiencies, just as they have in the Global North. Some researchers have faith in the agreements the World Bank creates with African countries, such as the New Partnership for African Development (“NEPAD”) it worked out with leading African governments that “is a promise by African leaders to deliver good governance, peace and security in return for increased foreign investment” (Owusu, 2003).

Still, many express concern over the growing influence it holds over politics in certain African countries. Harrison, 2005 asserts that “since the early 1980s, the Bank has pursued a range of strategies to restructure African states in ways which reduced state capacity and the scope for public action.” This move to “roll back” raises questions regarding why the World Bank would be so concerned regarding the current state of political affairs of a country it grants funding to, and why the political structure it advocates for is one that is less centralized with weaker government.

The World Bank often claims that it advocates for open public debate regarding the needs of a community, and stresses the importance of public policy participation. However, Beckman, 1991 declares that the World Bank does not truly dedicate itself to finding true consensus in local government, but rather employs tactics such as “fictitious consensus mongering, dodging real issues of division, reducing major political divisions to technical ones, and ignoring or delegitimising opposition to its politics” in order to undermine opinions against them and to further their agenda. It seems to work, too, as many people are willing to believe the World Bank if it claims it knows what is best for a community or that opposition to them is based on ignorance.

Notably, it appears that the primary factor that decides allocation of World Bank funds may be the political agendas of western governments in a certain country or area. Certain governments have significant influence on the board of the World Bank, especially the United States, and there also remains significant interest in the organization determined by large multinational water companies. Therefore, many studies following the flow of funds have recognized that “aid allocations are substantially influenced by donors’ domestic political considerations, including commercial advantage and foreign policy objectives such as migration and terrorism” (Harrigan, et al., 2006). If this is true, it would seem the World Bank serves more as a means of reforming African countries into a structure that can be made profitable for Western countries.

The World Bank also has a track record of influencing global multilateral treaties and conferences, and seeks to be largely influential in the school of thought pertaining to international politics and development of countries in the Global South. Goldman, 2007 notes how the 2002 World Summit on Sustainable Development “read much like a World Bank policy paper, and a wish-list for the world’s largest service sector firms: Water privatization is the best policy to tackle the global South’s poverty and water-delivery problems.” It seems, then, the World Bank has been extremely successful in promoting its agenda to politicians by garnering support in its line of neoliberal developmental thought.

There is no doubt that there are many in this academic line of thought who agree that privatization is the best system for Africa to develop, and there is plenty of research to defend their arguments. However, it raises questions of intent when it seems that privatization may also be used to create a mechanism by which western countries can exploit and profit from business within certain African countries as they develop.

In this week’s post I have chosen to follow up on something that intrigued me from last week’s blog post: the findings by Zeitoun and Warner, 2005 that power asymmetry in transboundary water supplies can lead to inequitable water distribution. I haven’t explored transboundary water politics in this blog yet, so this week seemed like a good time to address it.

            

Transboundary water sources are a critical aspect of the geopolitical and economics landscape of Africa, and comprise most of the significant bodies of water that people in Africa draw upon for agricultural, domestic and industrial use. There are a total of 63 transboundary water basins in Africa, which account for 93% of the total surface water available on the continent, cover two-thirds of the total land area, and are home to three-quarters of the total population of Africa (Turton, et al. 2006). Thus, it is safe to say that transboundary water resources and their management represents a significant geopolitical challenge on the continent.

Figure 1: The Most Significant Transboundary Water Basins in Africa (Turton, et al. 2006).

            

There are various reasons that water conflicts arise with regards to transboundary resources. Although the most obvious argument resolves around allocation and distribution of the resource, there also are conflicts regarding water quality, navigation, and environmental protection of the source (Matthews and St. Germain, 2007). For instance, many countries may provide varying degrees of care for a water body, and it can occur where a country upstream may not hold the same concern for environmental degradation or equitable provisioning, and thus may significantly detract from the quality and quantity of the source for another country downstream. Significant political conflict can arise from these disputes, especially in cases where their is considerable disparity between the political influence of the two countries.

Lautze, Giordano and Borghese, 2005 provide a hierarchy of the primary drivers that lead to conflict or collaboration in transboundary water supplies. They divide them into two primary groups: internal drivers and external drivers. Internal drivers are actual objectives of negotiations, such as the formation of a dam or technology and/or funds transfer, whereas external drivers are aspects that are not part of the agreements on paper yet wield significant influence. The following internal and external drivers are presented below, in order of decreasing influence on the terms of an agreement. 

Figure 2: Drivers of Transboundary Water Negotiations (Lautze, Giordano and Borghese, 2005). 

The third listed external driver, Religious of Cultural Affiliation, is an interesting one. There have been certain instances where it has proven to have significant influence upon negotiations, such as in the conflict over the Nile River between Egypt and countries with river tributaries to the Nile.

The Nile river has remained a cultural symbol of Egypt for thousands of years, dating back to the ages of the Pharaohs, leading to a strong sense of cultural affinity for the body of water, and therefore a sense of entitlement to the resource (El-Fadel, et al. 2003). With Egypt remaining one of the most politically influential African countries, this lead to asymmetric and inequitable distribution of the resources of the Nile in the 20th century. For instance, the 1929 Nile Water Agreement provided Egypt with nearly a monopoly over access to the Nile with a mild amount of water set aside for consumption by Sudan. To make things worse, it did so without garnering any support or hearing the opinion of other potentially affected African countries, instead turning to the UK for approval. The 1959 Nile Waters Agreement was more equitable to Sudan, yet still did not consult the Democratic Republic of the Congo nor Ethiopia (despite that 3 of the 4 primary tributaries of the Nile originate within the boundaries of the latter) (El-Fadel, et al. 2003). Ethiopia and the DRC quickly expressed frustration at the lack of recognition for their needs in the terms of the agreement, but were largely ignored.

Egypt and Sudan maintained their position of ambivalence towards the plights of the other countries negatively affected by their agreements. However, in the last 10 years some of these countries have been making radical movements. The Nile Commission of Ministers ("COM") was to meet regarding the Nile Cooperative Framework Agreement ("CFA") and vote upon it in 2010, which was pushed back to 2011. In 2011, Egypt and Sudan asked to push back the vote to 2012, but when the date arrived in 2012, neither country attended. This forced the remaining countries to form a new entity, the Nile Equatorial Lakes Council of Ministers under the Nile Basin Initiative (Metawie, 2004). This group together, without Egypt and Sudan, ratified the CFA and established the Nile Basin Commission. Moreover, they agreed upon projects in collaboration with the World Bank to invest in water infrastructure in many of their countries, all which will have significant implications for the water that Sudan and Egypt derive from the Nile.  

Figure 3: The Nile Basin Initiative Countries (Nile Basin Initiative)

            

Therefore, the complacency and lack of willingness to work with countries upstream led to an agreement being negotiated without Egypt and Sudan, despite their significant interests in the river. Transboundary water negotiations do not always exhibit this level of inefficiency, but when countries with significant political clout over others attempt to leverage it in an inequitable fashion, it can create political push-back and ultimately degrades the effectiveness of water management. 

Decentralisation in Africa has become one of the largest political trends across the continent, with an increasingly large amount of government roles and responsibilities being transferred from large, bureaucratic central governments to localised forms of community governance. This form of governance changes the way many of the various public services are provided to the constituents, including access to water.

Decentralisation advocates assert that “because decentralisation brings government closer to the governed both spatially and institutionally, government will be more knowledgeable about and responsive to the needs of the people” (Mirumachi and Van Wyk, 2009). By being closer to the people, government institutions ought to be more knowledgeable and care for the needs of the people they represent. Importantly, they are coming from a smaller area with a greater sense of communal identity; they are the people they represent. Therefore, increased understanding of local needs ought to translate into improved understanding of water infrastructure challenges and solutions.

However, in most local governments there appears to be a tendency towards power struggles that influence water distribution. For smaller communities, local “participants do not necessarily share professional or technical common ground” which can often lead to inequalities in the way that a new water infrastructure system is put into place (Muchara, et al., 2014). When certain individuals in a community have superior technical knowledge and influence within a community, they can change the way that a water system is set up such that it that may be more beneficial to the individual of influence than certain members of the community. This problem emerges in larger international water disputes as well, where research has shown that power asymmetry can significantly affect the equity of water disputes for transboundary water supplies (Zeitoun and Warner, 2005).

Other researchers have noted “participants that may previously have been deprived of the opportunity to engage in negotiations of consensus building face the challenge of having to create and sustain new relationships in water governance” (Mirumachi and Van Wyk, 2009). Thus, as the process of governing water supply becomes more localised, members of the community who beforehand had not had political clout must learn how to represent their own interests and exert influence. In communities that value equity and promote democracy, this does not tend to represent a significant problem. However, as noted in my previous post about IWRM, in some countries local participation is claimed but larger influential actors are truly making all the decisions (Dungumaro and Madulu, 2013). In many instances, local leaders, such as chiefs of certain areas, have significant influence regarding final decision making, whereas many of the poor may have less influence, despite arguments that decentralised government encourages greater participation and voice of the lower classes.

A common framework for assessing community water resource management is through collective action. Collective action occurs when a group cooperates in order to achieve a common goal, such as in the development of new water infrastructure. Although collective action goes far beyond simply political aspects of water management, it is largely affected by the politics of decentralized government, as shown in Figure 1:

Figure 1: Framework for analysing collective irrigation water management (Muchara, et al., 2014)

Many of these aspects of water management are either directly political (institutional, decision making, regulation and control) or indirectly political (incentives, financial contribution towards maintenance). For instance, community government may choose to disseminate information to all stakeholders with interests in new water infrastructure, or may establish laws that enforce how often and when people may get access to certain water sources (Muchara, et al., 2014). With community government decisions regarding water projects, the social framework of a community will have significant implications regarding the equity of the project and the fairness of the decision making process.

Therefore, decentralized politics have significant implications regarding the overall outcome of water infrastructure projects. If done right, the lack of bureaucratic hierarchy may be the best solution for water management in a community, but it is critical to ensure that local social hierarchies and power politics do not greatly disadvantage the members of community with less social clout.

There are many different narratives that exist today about how to politically address the current concern of water scarcity in Africa. Some narratives make arguments that granting Free Basic Water ("FBW") in the constitution of a government is the best way to ensure that the people of a country receive safe, adequate access to water resources; others assert that governments ought to step out of the way and allow for market mechanisms to distribute water in an economically efficient manner. In this blog I intend to dive into some of the intuition of FBW and see whether or not it may work outside the realm of theory.

Most of the current academic literature on water rights makes arguments similar to the following: “the human right to water exists without requiring any legal recognition, if one admits that water is vital to life and the only basis for human rights is being human” (Ziganshina, 2008). The arguments centralize on the rationale that water is a necessity of life, and therefore all humans are entitled to it in order to live. For instance, Article 6 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights states that “every human being has the inherent right to life. This right shall be protected by law. No one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his life” (ICCPR, 1966). 

So clearly international conferences, epistemic communities and politicians tend to agree that we, as humans, need water to survive. This may seem superfluous, but it is an important starting point for passing legislation that will allow for African countries to get clean water to their people. By establishing a framework in which all are guaranteed access to water, we can move forward with deciding how to fulfill this promise. 

However, we have faced certain troubles in attempting to solve the provisioning troubles of water, as the actual quantity that humans are rightfully entitled to remains ambiguous. In 1977 the United Nations Water Conference resolved that “all peoples, whatever their stage of development and their social and economic conditions, have the right to have access to drinking water in quantities and of a quality equal to their basic needs” (UNWC, 1977). Unfortunately, the UN did not provide any guidance regarding how much water any one individual is entitled to, raising the question of “what are the implications of a human right to water? A right to water cannot imply a right to an unlimited amount of water… how much water is necessary to satisfy this right?” (Gleick, 1998). 

There have been many research coalitions that have attempted to answer this question, in order for us to more successfully understand the amount of water we must generate in order to provide for a decent quality of life. Gleick, 1996 provides some data on the minimum amount of water that individuals need to sustain life. Different research reports vary on the amount suggested for minimum water and water equivalent in direct consumption, ranging from 1.8 liters to 5 liters per day.

Figure 1: Average daily water requirements for survival, in liters of water per day per capita. Gleick, 1996

However, we know that in order to live a healthy life a person needs access to a much greater amount of water than just 5 liters per day. Water is needed for agriculture, irrigation, sanitation, cooking and various other household tasks. Ultimately, Gleick, 1996 recommends an approximate 50 liters per capita per day in order to provide all of the basic household tasks one must perform in order to live a satisfactory quality of life. However, this rate of 50 liters of water for each person daily represents a significant threshold to meet in order to provide for adequate quality of life outcomes.

Many researchers assert that we must meet these basic water levels per capita in order to maintain human dignity and health in developing countries in Africa. In a follow up on previous research, Gleick, 1998 argues that incidences of cholera have soared as a result of governments not implementing programs around a framework with water as a fundamental right. However, even in a framework where water is treated as a guaranteed right, we still have seen water problems from improper legislative implementation.  

When South Africa instituted its Free Basic Water initiatives, it allowed for 6,000 liters per household per month, which provides for roughly 40 liters per day per capita in a family of 5 individuals (Peters and Oldfield, 2005). This was seen as an ambitious program that nearly reached the recommendation of 50 liters per person per day provided by Gleick, 1996. However, the legislation failed to calculate for the fact that most household were larger than 5, sometimes as large 15 or more, especially in poor families. Thus, many poor households needed access to a greater amount of water than was provided for as a basic right. After the minimum amount of water for the month was passed, water rates increased explosively, and many poor families were forced to pay premiums they couldn’t afford. Thus, we experienced the odd phenomena reported by Owusu-Mensah, 2017, where poor families in Africa not only receive water of lower quality, but also tend to pay more for it. 

Ultimately, scientific findings showed that as a result of the new program, “residents in a variety of lower-income and poverty-stricken areas face severely limited access to water, despite adequate infrastructure and extensive Constitutional rights to access basic services such as water” (Peters and Oldfield, 2005). Moreover, this change in payment structure forced many poor families to revert to lower quality water they could find for free, which the epistemic community largely agrees may have led to the cholera outbreak in South Africa in 2001. This consensus goes directly against the argument Gleick, 1998 makes that FBW is needed to end cholera; rather, poor policy implementation of FBW in this instance appears to have actually promoted a cholera outbreak.

Clearly this is not the outcome intended for the poor people of South Africa when the new constitution guaranteed them Free Basic Water. This result came from a political failure to implement a smooth transition into the new water system, where differences in household needs could be recognized, and where payment structures were not created to reflect different needs on a household basis. FBW is no easy thing to promise the people of a country. If legislation will guarantee it, the program must do so carefully and ensure provisioning and pricing truly reflects community needs.

Ultimately, the fundamental guarantee of water as a basic right is something that most people can agree upon. On paper, the intuition makes sense academically and ethically. However, if we are going to use this framework in order to guide policy that promotes water equality in Africa, we must ensure the systems put in place do indeed guarantee water to those who need it, and do not accidentally disadvantage them as a result of the system.