Give a Man a Fish… Georgian IDPs in Western Georgia

When I sat down to write this article, I wasn’t really sure what stance to take on the Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) and their settlements as witnessed on the media tour I went on last week. I come from a different culture and education system, and yet I’ve lived here long enough to see reality from a Georgian perspective. And so I hope my report will be seen as reasonably balanced.

The tour hit seven settlements in western Georgia (Kutaisi, Tskhaltubo, Zugdidi, Poti and Batumi) housing IDPs from Abkhazia, brought together around two years ago after more than 23 years spent living in abandoned and derelict buildings scattered throughout the country.

The Georgian government forces fought three wars against Russian-backed separatist forces in Abkhazia and South Ossetia 1991-2008. According to the latest statistics of the Georgian Ministry of IDPs from the Occupied Territories, Accommodation and Refugees, there are currently 263,598 registered IDPs in Georgia. Many South Ossetian IDPs (2008 war) were housed in individual 2-room units constructed as “IDP villages” in agricultural areas such as those outside Gori. They now have gardens and some have extended their living areas. The Abkhazian IDPs, fleeing their homes in a different era of Georgia’s development, were not so lucky.

The settlements we visited were newly built apartment blocks (aside from one in Kutaisi- a converted military lyceum) and one in Tskhaltubo (a converted hospital). We were met in each settlement by a group of residents, sometimes headed by a local support group leader, to explain the situation to us clearly.

We heard their complaints. My heart went out to them, but at the same time I couldn’t help but think “I’ve seen worse, much worse, elsewhere in this country.”

A matter of perspective

When the residents of the Zugdidi settlement complained that they have scheduled water (evenings only) and that the mains drinking water can’t be drunk due to the sand in it, I accepted that clean drinking water is a human right everywhere, not least in a developed country. But then I remembered how many villagers throughout Georgia still exist on well water which they pull up throughout the day as needed.

When the residents of the smallest Tskhaltubo settlement complained that their kitchens (built against internal walls with no ventilation and so no official gas installation) were inadequate, I agreed. But then I remembered entire villages I’d been through without mains gas supply, with residents cooking daily meals and surviving the cold winters with wood fires or camping gas.

A lack of kindergarten spaces was mentioned in Zugdidi, Poti and Batumi settlements- the nearest state kindergartens are some kilometers away and do not have enough room to take on all the needy IDP children. The same issues unfortunately exist throughout the country, including in Tbilisi, though City Hall boasts it has added 4 new kindergartens since 2015 and is rehabilitating a further three to accommodate the many children waiting for places.

But there were genuine issues brought up that really made me stop and think “Hang on a minute…”

Like the leaky roofs, basements with pipes dripping out water and sewage, the lack of isolation on hollow-block walls in a wet and windy area in Tskhaltubo, and repeatedly the complaints of flooded basements and rising damp (as building foundations are in some cases below the water table). Such stories smacked of bad planning and the old “Saakashvili” style “Build it quick and pretty, shut ‘em up” – but this time done by the current government, with generous funding from KPW (Germany). Cheap materials abound, money supposedly spent but results far from the expected quality, and damage clear just one or 1.5 years following completion of renovation works.

Size matters

The flats were allocated by lottery, regardless of family size. One woman lives in a two room flat (one bedroom, one living area, bathroom and kitchen); a family with four small children lives in the same size flat close by. If the IDPs register the flats in their names and take ownership, then they are considered “satisfied.” Some do. Others refuse. One family of five is waiting for a separate studio flat as part of the “Two-room, plus one” deal they were promised a year ago. But that bureaucratic machine of request, review, appeal and grant, as we know, takes time.

Employ or support?

There are IDPs (mostly women, I might add) who say, ‘Give me land and I will work it.’ “One hectare is all I need,” said one woman in her mid-40s, a resident of Zugdidi settlement. “I’ll grow enough food for my family and sell the rest.”

Most of the IDPs we spoke to were from the Gali district of Abkhazia and so had owned houses with gardens in their pre-war lives. Putting it into numbers, I was told over 80 percent of IDPs feel “some connection with the land.” The government has openly “sold” land for 1 GEL in the past to those wishing to develop businesses on that land and put people to work through those businesses. So why not cheaply “sell off” village land that is otherwise abandoned, give it to those who will eagerly make use of it, then give them the tools or training they need to make it work and make it last?

A bright idea which offers more chance of long-term independent survival for those digging in. And what more does Georgia have but fertile land waiting for an eager hand to reap the benefits from it? But the tune would, I’m sure, change if the government suggested said eager farmer would no longer be eligible for benefits once the fruits of her labor could be sold for a profit.

Aside from receiving other state benefits (disability, pension, etc), IDPs are given 45 GEL per month. As are their children. And their children’s children. And this even if the beneficiary has a house, a job, a car and a nice flat-screen TV.

“Investigate who really deserves to get that meager benefit and if they really don’t need it, stop giving it,” said Nukhri Milorava of CHCA (Charity Humanitarian Center ‘Abkhazeti,’ advocates of IDP development). “Save it up and use it to fund development projects to give the IDPs a more sustainable future.”

Integration

Another issue- a big issue- is integration. In the years since the war left them homeless, the IDPs have repeatedly been lumped together in various locations throughout the country- be it in abandoned hotels or in old schools and sports halls with individual “living spaces” separated by curtains. Now they’ve been given new flats, but have, again, been lumped together and, as such, the government has enforced a “ghetto” “otherness” perspective for those in the new blocks. Villagers see the IDPs as outsiders and different, and the IDPs themselves feel naturally more at ease sticking with those who have been through the same. The solution? Spread them out into existing Georgian communities.

“There are numerous closed buildings- village houses- for sale throughout Georgia,” Milorava highlighted. “Rather than waste money on these ‘ghettos,’ the government could buy such houses for the IDPs. They have their gardens, they have local neighbors, and they have a chance to build a more sustainable future for themselves and their families within a Georgian community.”

“Ask any IDP what they want most, and do you know what they almost always reply?” Milorava asked us. “More help,” he answered. It reminded me of that old proverb: Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime. While some of the IDPs are relics of an old system which supported them fully and so can never awaken to the idea that they must now work for their independence, others already see what can be done but need some help to get there- be it in the form of a plot of land to work or a grant to start a business. These are the ones the government can enable so that they no longer need to live off the State, waiting for help that may not come. That said, some have been offered grants by various non-governmental organizations to start small businesses but have chosen to remain on benefits. This is where legislation, case-by-case assessment, and benefit cuts come in- an unenviable, complex and expensive endeavor, but one well worth the long-term advantages.

I want to close with the words of Daniel Blake (a fictional British man struggling to navigate the UK unemployment benefit system in the 2016 Cannes Palme d'Or winning film, ‘I, Daniel Blake’). I think it rather accurately describes what the IDPS, as humans and citizens, want. And not only the IDPs: all disadvantaged Georgians living below the poverty line as the government spends on quick-fix glamor to win the latest election. It may not apply to all of them, but it certainly applies to many.

“I am not a client, a customer, nor a service user.

I am not a shirker, a scrounger, a beggar, nor a thief.

I'm not a National Insurance Number.

I paid my dues, never a penny short, and proud to do so.

I don't tug the forelock but look my neighbor in the eye and help him if I can.

I don't accept or seek charity.

My name is Daniel Blake.

I am a man, not a dog.

As such, I demand my rights.

I demand you treat me with respect.

I, Daniel Blake, am a citizen.

Nothing more and nothing less. 

By Katie Ruth Davies