A day in my life: Erik Nugroho in WFP Indonesia
Another day, another rewarding call
By Erik Nugroho, Programme Associate, with Nadya S Pryana, Reports & Information Management Officer
It’s the loveliest time of the week — Monday 8 am. My body still aches a bit from 50 km weekend cycling yesterday, which honestly almost broke my muscles but very much lifted my spirits after a tiring week. For a few days now, on behalf of the Emergency and Response Unit in the World Food Programme (WFP) Indonesia office in Jakarta, I have been leading training sessions for community volunteers for disaster response, referred to as TAGANA in the Bahasa Indonesian language.
WFP conducts this training in partnership with the Ministry of Social Affairs (MOSA), which is in charge of leading policies and programmes designed to protect people from shocks and stresses — including the ones induced by disasters. MOSA manages the TAGANA personnel, whose objective is to deliver first-response to disaster at the community level. TAGANA staff educate locals, minimize casualties and provide a rapid, extra layer of ‘protection’ in difficult times.
A long history of partnership
WFP, particularly its Emergency Preparedness and Response Unit, has a long history of supporting partners in leading, coordinating, and managing the response to complex emergencies, disasters and pandemics. In Indonesia, my team serves this mission by providing capacity building and technical assistance to government-led disaster management.
We aim to make effective government-led disaster response a reality for this country.
In the TAGANA training, we support MOSA in helping community volunteers respond to the COVID-19 outbreak — to know what to do in this pandemic, to have sufficient knowledge on pandemic risk reduction, coordination mechanism, personal safety, and security protocols while on duty. Those are the goals I’m striving for, amidst sleepless nights, busy days, and — you’d be surprised to find out how often this happens — technical problems.
As I wait for my screens (yes, plural — I need three screens for the training to go as smoothly as possible) to fire up, I think about how different this set of activities compares to before. This time, with every event needing to be conducted online because of COVID-19, it has been particularly demanding.
Not sure how to get hundreds of non-tech savvy people familiar with Zoom? Check. Maintaining a high level of energy to keep participants active although I can’t see them in person? Check. And don’t make me start about fatigue due to excessive screen time.
All colleagues know I love my job but COVID-19 has been tough — and unique. It has been more than 15 years since I first joined WFP, and I have been involved in various disaster responses: tsunami, earthquake, even Ebola outbreak, but I have never seen anything like this. It is a massive global disaster where everything ‘looks’ normal — at least in Jakarta no roads collapsed, all infrastructures are intact — but things are damaged nevertheless in almost every part of the world. Restricted mobilization, halted logistics, economic and psychological burdens are rife. Not to mention the public health problem itself.
Like most people I cannot go to the office, and have not met my colleagues and government partners since March this year.
Ding! “Selamat pagi, Mas Erik.” (“Good morning, Erik.”).
That greeting pulls me out of my zoning-out bubble. “Pagi Pak” (“Morning Sir.”). I plug in my headphones. As I quickly scan the participant list, I sigh in relief seeing the other facilitators are already on the call. A total of eight agencies and organizations are onboard: UNICEF, WHO, IOM, IFRC, RedR Indonesia, Atma Jaya University, with of course WFP and MOSA. Topics shared in the training vary: initiating WASH [water, sanitation and hygiene] support, logistics, psychosocial support to the communities, health and so on.
I look at the clock. OK — 9 am, here we go. I start the training.
Many people join on their phones
The session usually takes place from 9am to 2pm. Combining all sessions in five weeks, we will be speaking to almost 800 TAGANA personnel coming from more than eight provinces in the country. I see people joining in on their phones — some are in an office, many are outdoors where the signal is better.
Hopefully there is no connection problem again today. I immediately think of Oggi, my colleague who is extremely helpful in navigating the technical arrangements. If anything does happen, Oggi must come to the rescue.
Quite literally after I finish that thought, a big chunk of TAGANA personnel from one area ‘leave’ the call.
…literally.
Technical problems may be something that most of us couldn’t care less about. What’s the worst that could happen — perhaps the signal’s not good and there is nothing we can do about it, is there? However, it is worth mentioning that in Indonesia there are thousands of areas where the connection is limited. If we don’t think about this, we might as well give up on the idea that every TAGANA in every area deserves to have its capacity strengthened, to learn something useful for its work.
As I grunt with slight helplessness and think what to do with the ‘exodus’, I notice that my phone is blinking. A text: “Listrik mati, pindah ke rumah Pak S di Karanganyar.” (“Power outage, we have to move to [and join the training from] Mr S’ house in Karanganyar.”).
A smile on my face. Rest assured the safety protocols are intact. It is encouraging to see how the TAGANA personnel are thriving and excited to get going against all odds. I can worry about connectivity and the fact that they don’t have personal, stable internet connection — but in the end their willingness to go beyond the limitations matters the most.
Hours go by and the training has been going all right, when it’s time for me to close the session. Five minutes ago I received a message from one of the directors in MOSA asking for a discussion on policy immediately after this training, so I intend to finish the session on time. Sherry, my team member, is also ready to hop on the policy discussion call.
Sherry and I are very keen to have this kind of policy conversations with decision makers and key officials in MOSA. Policy advocacy, along with training and capacity strengthening activities in general, is the main focus of WFP’s Indonesia office.
Part of something bigger
I am thinking about this when a TAGANA staffer interrupts my thoughts, “Mas Erik, bisa saya berpendapat tentang kegiatan hari ini?” (“Erik, can I share my thoughts about today’s training?”).
Little do I know that what comes after will be a delight.
He goes on to explain how he thinks that the material shared today is “not on his level”. At first I think that is a negative sentiment and indicates irrelevance of the material. But apparently, after we discuss it a bit more, this training makes him realize that he is not only a person who moves boxes from truck to warehouses. He is part of something bigger — a system, a larger chain of distributions logistics, and disaster response in general. This sense of connection wasn’t there before — but it is now. Isn’t this what learning is all about — an illumination, a richer understanding?
When it’s 5 pm sharp, my day abruptly ends as I need to pick up my wife from her office. But the work that I do is not even close to the end line. I am not even sure whether there is ever a hard ‘finish’ line for my mission — improving disaster management is an ever-progressing target. It is a destination, so I have no other option but to keep moving towards it. One day at a time. One call at a time.
Through its Emergency Preparedness and Response Unit, WFP Indonesia plans to strengthen the Government of Indonesia’s preparedness and response capacity. Our main strategies include strengthening coordination, capacity development and policy advocacy.
