Kiva.org: A Cure for Recession Insomnia

It is a scary world we live in right now. Enough to trigger my ever-lurking insomnia. Whenever I would listen to the news on any day of the week and hear about how my life-savings are in the toilet, I would set my jaw a little tighter. I tried not to read the paper, but I was drawn to it like a rubbernecker at a gruesome accident scene. I stayed awake at night worrying about the crisis of our pension plans and mutual funds, those funds that could collapse under their own weight, those funds that were supposed to give us security and now are only giving us ulcers. We are all in the same boat. Between fearing for our jobs, paying the mortgage and worrying about our future, it is ironic that the cure for my insomnia came to me last month as I was looking at a website to give away what little money I had left in my bank account. I was looking at Kiva.org

Kiva is a small internet-based money lending network. Their mandate as a non-profit is to match up lenders, who are average citizens from industrialized nations, with micro-finance organizations in the third world. The borrowers who apply to these micro-finance organizations are ordinary people in places like Africa and Asia, who are looking for loans to start up their own business or expand their existing business. Often training is provided along with the loan to ensure a better chance at success. All the information about the borrower, their business needs, and how much they are looking for is listed on the website. Also statistics on the likelihood of repayment are also provided, as each applicant is carefully screened by the micro-lending organization.

I loaned money to two different recipients and have been already partially repaid by both (6% of the initial amount). Both are mothers in Vietnam in their mid-thirties. One borrower is operating a small grocery store and hopes to use the loan money to expand the store and to buy more stock for her shelves. The other woman is starting up a pig-farming operation and needs money for feed and livestock. She also has a small wine-making operation in her home that pulls in a small income. Both of these entrepreneurial woman are using their ingenious resourcefulness to try to make a better life for themselves and their family, under tougher conditions that I will ever know. Both are asking for a very small loan each (less than $600 USD) and have manageable repayment schedules of 12-14 months. I didn't loan the entire amount to each borrower, donations don't need to be that large. Instead I am one of a group of people from all over the world who donate money to these individuals and, like a linked patchwork of like-minded neighbours at a pot-luck, our money is pooled together by Kiva. The other donors for each recipient can be viewed once users are logged on to the website. Looking over the donors section gives me a warm feeling. Donors are mostly from Canada, the US, the UK, Australia and all over Europe. This is such a wonder to me, to be part of such an international group of generous and caring people, who actually do something to participate in making this world a little better. I feel honoured to be included in this group.

Another really great thing about Kiva is that they send donors consistent updates on the status of the borrowers. I love getting these updates: it is a joy to cheer on these people from across the other side of the world. I don't even care about getting the money back for myself at this point. I plan to reuse the money in my Kiva account to loan more money out. Whenever I think about those two women in Vietnam, I forget my recession worries and realize how very lucky I am to be part of a movement to help redistribute some of that which I was so arbitrarily given. 

Somewhere in Vietnam or Cambodia, or in a small part of Africa or South America, there are people who are worse off than me. A lot worse off. And they need my help. 

As all the great prophets and new age philosophers have said: Abundance in thinking leads to abundance in life. We reap what we sow. Kiva provides a fertile field to sow those seeds of goodwill in me and drown out my weedy thoughts of darkness. Now I go to bed thinking of pigs and grocery shelves. And I sleep like a lamb.