An ironic twist to philanthropy

  I slip off my comfy new pair of shoes and curl up in my chair.  These shoes have a bittersweet ring to them.  I do not feel like they are rightfully mine...  

  To anyone who has ever bought a pair of "TOMS" shoes, you will know their motto printed on the insole of each shoe:  "With every pair you purchase TOMS will give a pair of new shoes to a child in need.  One for One."  The intended charitable donation strategy has taken a slight detour...

  Carmen and I yet again set out to the Grande Marche, this time in search of TOMS shoes.  Learning of the availability of such highly prized footwear, it is Carmen's mission to find and purchase 4 pairs of these sneakers for herself and fellow crew mates at a drastically reduced 'street market' cost.   I marvel in disbelief that such a specific brand of shoes could be found in a sprawling marketplace like the Grande Marche.  But as other Mercy Shippers can attest, they are available, if you have the nose to sniff them out.

  In and out of shops we trudge.  Carmen retrieves one green TOMS shoe from her bag, holds it to the shopkeeper's face and points to the TOMS label with a questioning arch of her eyebrow.  "Est-ce que vous avez le chaussures comme ca?"  I ask.  He takes the shoe in his hand and thoughtfully inspects it.  Carmen once again points to the TOMS label, matter-of-factly.  "Non." He regretfully admits.  He tries his luck by holding out a non-comparable shoe to temp us.  "Non, non.  Où peux-je acheter des chaussures?"  He shrugs his shoulders.  

  We begin to make our way to the next shop, when suddenly the shopkeeper yells at us, signalling  that he may have a lead on the shoes - his buddy apparently knows where they are sold.   This guy who works in the market everyday would know better than we do.  So we follow him, weaving through the tightly packed alley ways, out onto the main drag.  A few streets over, we duck into yet another hopeful-looking shop.  Our guide seems pleased with himself.  Carmen holds up the shoe.  I ask the question.  Same deal.  No match.  Our guides smile fades, as he realises that we did not find what we were after.  We thank him for his help, and move on.

  After half a dozen or so shops, our quest finally begins to look promising.   At the sight of Carmen's green sample shoe, a vendor's eyes perk as he turns on his heel and leads us over to a pristine pair of smoky-blue TOMS shoes.  Unfortunately, he only has the one pair - and not the in Carmen's size.  A near miss.  So close!   As we turn to exit, we spot a display of shoes just across the corridor - with both a pair of grey and red TOMS on display.  Finally we have found them!  But no, Carmen has very specific taste - she wants red and white stripes on her TOMS.  So alas, these TOMS still will not suffice.  
  
  My attention is drawn to a collection of shoes on the floor in the far back corner.  A small pile of petite TOMS in both white and red with black detail wait patiently to be noticed.   The largest pair available are just my size.  The rest of the bunch were obviously made for smaller people.  Like children.  Hmmm, where have I heard about TOMS shoes and children?  GASP!  "With every pair you purchase TOMS will give a pair of new shoes to a child in need."  The child in need!  Could it be?  Could the pallets of TOMS shoes leaving the American distribution centers, destined for children in far-off impoverished nations actually be finishing their journey here, in the street markets of Africa?  I've heard that anything of value can be sold at the market.  I know that there is much corruption in the world when it comes to the distribution of donated goods, so it would not surprize me if this pair of shoes was actually a pair that was meant to be donated to a child in need.  There is no way to know the answer to these questions.  I decide the purchase will at least benefit someone.  

  Carmen's legendary bartering skills are now in demand.  The shop-owner begins his asking price at 40, 000 CFA's - the approximate equivalent of $80.  Huh!  Not a chance!  That price is even questionable back home.  Carmen shows her disagreement with him and examines the shoe for a while, turning it over in her hands.  "Miseur, no 40,000.  Better price?"  He thinks only briefly and comes back "35,000."    "No."   She doesn't speak for what seems like an exaggeratedly long time, as if to make a point.  "It's OK, I know what I'm doing." She assures me.  He pulls out his phone and they begin to barter on the calculator.  She starts at 3000 - a pittance in comparison to his asking price, but Carmen was told by the other Mercy Shippers not to pay more that 4000 for the shoes.  As the shopkeeper continued to lower his price, Carmen raised to 4000.  I began to put on my own shoes and shift uneasily on the bench.   "5000.  Final offer," Carmen stated, brashly and full of determination.   The shopkeeper shook his head but a smile began to appear.  He realised that he was dealing with a very smart Mandelli.  She was not to be played with.  This girl knew a fraud when she saw one.  As we stood up to leave, Carmen stated "right then, 5000 it is."  His head turned away, his head nodded ever so slightly in agreement.  His sales tactics had been out-witted by the crazy white shopper.  He took my money and packaged up my purchase.  Hoping to sell them for more, he had to let them go at 5000 CFA, about $10.  This price would be unheard of in the western market, but as these shoes had likely originated as a donation, he likely had not payed too much at all to add them to his stock. 

The offenders in question

 
  So what about these shoes?  Is it ethical that I should be participating in the wrongly-intended distribution of donations?  When a donation is made, how does that work?   Who ships it?  What quality control do these companies have on the ground in the developing world?  Are they aware of the corruption that goes on?  Do they actually believe that their shoes are making it to the feet of little African children?  Well, somewhere along the way, the donation fell into the hands of the wrong person, and the shoes became a commodity to bring in cash flow.  Whether the shipment was seized by a group of thieves or if African families did receive the shoes but decided to sell them to the market sellers to get money instead, nobody knows.
  I can take solace in that I contributed to the local economy.  I may have only paid $10, but that money helped to feed some family, so I guess in the end, TOMS' goal of helping people less fortunate did become a reality, just not in their intended way.   
  But it does make me stop to think - just where did these shoes come from?