For Every Child—With Integrity, Competence and Efficiency: Nuzhat Shahzadi

By mid-morning the sun was lava . . . Humidity oozed out of coconut-palms, hibiscus leaves . . . breadfruit trees, coral-sandy-shores . . . The heat was insufferable, scorching the tiny island, the turquoise waters of the Pacific Ocean. Sunlight sparkled on the tips of the foaming waves as they crashed on the sands.

I feared power outages . . . After months of emailing back and forth, and after hard-persevered-never-ending negotiations with our Fiji office I got approval to replace the half-dead AC I had inherited at the UNICEF-UN Joint Presence office in Kiribati along with numerous non and semi functional stuff, systems.

Fiji controlled all funds. For a $20 bill once I had to start an email war with the Suva-Education-chief as we had spent the amount for relevant school activities. (staff had already paid the education department herself to avoid embarrassment) . . . It took about 50 emails to get the reimbursement.

My mornings were challenging, mostly.

"Our guards didn't get their salary this month . . . they're going to the radio station to announce it––bad mouth UNICEF," Joao, our international child protection officer mentioned as I stepped into my office-coolness. The AC was working!

There was only one local radio station which in addition to regular/local news and programs also accommodated personal announcements–– grievances, complaints, etc. Kiribati hardly made any news. The most important broadcasts were about official visitors. For a small country, we drew lots of them.

There was no newspaper in Kiribati.

Delayed payments were common. Joao and Kibrom (international WASH officer) often advanced payments to the guards from their pockets. Even the staff salaries, including theirs, didn't reach on time. Their salaries were tied to section budgets, authorized by Suva-Section chiefs.

My salary was from the regular/general resources––directly deposited to my NY-UNFCU account. I authorized Suva to transfer $1500 for my local expenses in Kiribati which they handled––never received it on time.

With our admin assistant's mediation, we managed to calm down the guards. It was like running a full house on extremely-extra-limited income. . .

My earlier meeting with our office landlord was themed on similar issues––

"Nuzhat, UNICEF hasn't paid the rent yet . . . it's the 2nd week . . . every month I default my loan-interest to the bank––it causes me to pay additional . . . I'm raising the rent," our landlord was firm. I kept assuring him that I would do my best to resolve this. He understood my no-power situation.

"I know you're in a difficult position. Not upset with you––I'm mad with your Suva-office." He was always polite with me.

I had hired his wife Brucetta as a consultant and directly supervised her. She was a friend. We often met socially––had been invited to their house several times.

. . . as I lived alone, UNDSS recommended a night guard for my residence, paid by the office. It was unnecessary but we followed security protocols. My guard's salary was always 2-3 months behind. Nimia, the guard, was my land lady's son-in -law. So, no one was bothered.

Nimia, a lucky-go-person by his mid 20s had fathered 4 sons during my tenure. One was born before my time. His wife, Berande was smart, educated––went to Fiji for a higher academic degree in teaching while he watched videos, fished and of course guarded my bungalow at night (!!!??).

I loved the boys.

The ops colleagues in Fiji were nice. The chief of Ops was a helpful person, visited our office several times. However, during my near 4-year-tenure, the financial transaction issues remained unchanged. Our petty cash amount (delayed as well) was so small and the local services so expensive that it was totally spent within a week.

Causes for late-payments remained a mystery . . .

Kibrom got promoted to an L-2 position from his temporary hire-status. Suva refused to pay the ticket costs and 1 month entitled-DSA for this family who were already living in Kiribati.

"Suva is wrong. I know the rules," I assured him and wrote directly to HR-NYHQ. He received his dues in full––$25,000. We celebrated!

There were more reasons to keep pushing . . . embracing challenges . . . accepting some defeats and rejoicing small victories . . .

The parliament approved our long cherished "Kiribati-children-young people-and family welfare bill." Hon President Tong signed it into an ACT!!

We danced in joy, we hugged, cried. It was Joao's work––his achievement, mainly. I nudged and pushed it with the President, Vice President . . . speaker of the house, Hon Iuta. He used to be my dancing partner at state functions. He had unofficially promised to pass the Bill. This elderly gentleman and I became friends. I knew the family––his daughter and niece were also close friends . . . both worked with UNICEF.

Hon Iuta suffered from knee aches. When I went to say goodbye before departing, I gave him a tube of pain-relief balm.

"My mom uses this––it helps. I got it for you from Bangkok," I said. He got up from his chair and hugged me.

"Ko Rabwa . . . travel safely. We will miss you. Ter oi," he smiled.

Two years later he passed away.

First Page of the signed ACT