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Iquib and Idir: Socio-Economic Traditions of the Ethiopians
by Ayele Bekerie, PhD (Africana Studies and Research Center, Cornell
University)
Among
the most enduring, universal, effective, and relevant socio-economic
informal institutions Ethiopians have created are Iquib and Idir.
Iquib is an association established by a small group of people
in order to provide substantial rotating funding for members in
order to improve their lives and living conditions, while Idir
is an association established among neighbors or workers to raise
funds that will be used during emergencies, such as death within
these groups and their families. Iquib and Idir can be characterized
as traditional financial associations. While Idir is a longterm
association, Iquib can be temporary or permanent, depending on
the needs of the members.
These
two socio-economic traditions are informal, bottom-up, and widely
practiced among Ethiopians. It can also be argued that they are
national phenomena that are embraced by Ethiopians across linguistic,
religious, or ethnic backgrounds. Idir, in fact, is becoming a
critical source of social stability at a time when deaths from
HIV/AIDS or other illnesses are increasing at an alarming rate.
Thanks to Idir, the victims of HIV/AIDS are at least guaranteed
respectful burial and their loved ones are given moral and some
material support to overcome their loss. These dynamic, people-oriented
associations are often either ignored or not given proper attention
by the state or the educated elite with regard to social or economic
development. In fact, it is because of such traditional associations
that our society remains stable and cohesive. Iquib and Idir serve
the needs of the society in a sustainable way and they are based
on available human or material resources.
For instance, Iquib enables a family,
particularly a poor family, to obtain the
necessary funding for activities such as
weddings, building a house, or starting a
micro-business. As Mamo Tirfe puts it, the rotating fund is a means, particularly for
poor people, to make investments that
they would normally never consider making
due to lack of money. Iquib is more
flexible and accessible than banks and
requires minimal paper work. As a result,
people without formal education are not
discouraged to join. Moreover, for a small
payment each week or month, members of
Iquib can keep a steady influx of money to
help any member of the group on a rotational
basis.
Idir, which Mamo characterizes as
group life insurance, usually has a large
membership and the weekly or monthly
membership is minimal and affordable by
all. Idir guarantees grieving families, for
instance, the complete assistance (financial
or otherwise) they seek in times of
emergency. Idir members are required to
attend funerals and must always be ready
to help. Idir can be established by a community
or village, at the work place, or
among friends and family.
These remarkable associations are
based on local knowledge and practices
and ought to be taken into consideration
by Ethiopia-centered development plans
or activities. One of the steps in an authentic
approach to development, if I may use Messay Kebede’s phrase, is to recognize
the work people have already performed
in their own name, using indigenous
knowledge and traditional practices,
such as Iquib and Idir. According to Mamo
Tirfe, these associations are based on participatory
principles; as a result they tend
to “promote accountability, transparency,
tolerance and dialogue.” In addition, they
tend to foster friendship among members.
The strong ties established among Iquib
members also discourage defaults.
While
these two community-based funding efforts are popular in Ethiopia,
in Philadelphia, the Ethiopians, given their numbers and the trans-cultural
realities, modified them into Iquib and Idir combined into one,
which I like to call IquibinaIdir. The functions of the institutions
are lumped together to create a new system. I am sure that we
find similar associations in communities throughout the Ethiopian
Diaspora. I have looked at three cases from Philadelphia, where
I worked with the Greater Philadelphia Ethiopian Community.
In
the first case, 10 males and females formed IquibinaIdir in Philadelphia
by contributing $200 towards Iquib and $35 towards Idir per month.
While the Iquib money circulates among members monthly, the Idir
money is used only during emergencies. Within a 10-month period,
each member will collect $2,000. In the second case, 12 males
and females call their IqubinaIdir “100 Club.” These club members
make a contribution of $100 for Iquib and $10 for Idir. Each member
will collect $1200 by taking turns within a 1-year period. The
Idir contribution is much smaller than in the first case, but
its purpose is the same. In the third case, 11 women formed an
IqubinaIdir group by contributing $55 monthly. Here the $50 is
for Iquib and $5 goes to Idir. It is interesting that the amount
collected among the women is much less than in the first two cases,
where the groups were made up of both men and women.
These
informal associations guarantee that everyone is taken care of
in times of need through participatory and enabling means. In
times of death, the community is kept intact and the grieving
family instantly gets financial and social support. Iquib and
Idir are remarkable examples to show that poverty does not define
a person or a society. Economically disadvantaged societies are
able to use traditional practices and knowledge to sustain themselves.
Imagine
if the estimated 300,000 to 500,000 Ethiopian Diaspora form Idir
or Iquib. It would then be possible to fulfill the wishes of those
who want to be buried at home by readily covering all the necessary
expenses. It also frees the loved ones from huge financial burdens
they may incur as a result of such an emergency. Idir and Iquib
are remarkable legacies from our ancestors and we should learn
and benefit from them.
(For an excellent treatment of Idir and Iquib or other Ethiopian
traditional practices, please see Mamo Tirfe’s (1999) The Paradox
of Africa’s Poverty: The Role of Indigenous Knowledge, Traditional
Practices and Local Institutions. Lawrenceville, NJ: The Red Sea
Press.)
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