Living on $1 a Day

At 8 a.m., after seeing her husband off to work and her children off to school, Selina Bonefesi puts on her entrepreneur's hat. Mrs. Bonefesi has a small business making fritters -- fried cakes made of wheat, salt, sugar, and yeast.

She'll spend the morning mixing, waiting for the dough to rise, and frying, cranking out as many as 300 of the tasty treats and selling them from her home to passersby. By the end of the week, between her household chores and running her business, she'll have logged more hours than a Fortune 500 CEO.

But she'll only earn about $1 a day.

Selina, her husband, and four children are among the 1.2 billion people in the world living on less than a dollar a day -- what the United Nations calls "extreme poverty." Many of them are in Africa. Some live in rural villages, others in urban shantytowns; some can be found in the deserts of Chad, others in the jungles of the Congo. Yet Selina's family in Malawi is typical: they have limited education, little access to jobs or capital, and are ruled by an indebted government that lacks a coherent plan for helping its poorest citizens.

The Monitor visited with Selina to learn how a family of six lives on so little -- and to hear from them what would be most helpful from the richest nations in the world. Selina's message is quite simple. "Monetary help is needed," she says. "We want iron sheets on our houses. We want capital for our businesses."

In a typical week, Selina will make 1,125 Malawian kwatcha, or $9.09, in fritter sales. With the $5.17 that's left over after she buys supplies for her next batch, she'll purchase food and amenities for her family and tuck away $1.25 into savings. Her annual earnings, combined with her husband's earnings as a farmer, will give the family of six, after business expenses, about $453 to live on this year.

Selina married her husband, Bonefesi Malema, when she was 16 and took his first name as her last. Selina's fritter business is meant to be a buffer against hard times, warding off the insecurity that comes with each growing season. Selina says her contribution is only to "take some of the financial strain off my husband and to help his farming business." But this year, Selina is the main breadwinner.

The fruits of her labor are 150 small fritters and 150 large fritters, which will sell for about $.02 and $.04, respectively. Her customers are her neighbors, schoolchildren hungering for a midmorning snack, and people headed to the market three miles past her town. They all know Selina's house and yell out to her from the yard for service with a smile.

With the exception of the trip to the market to buy supplies, Selina's entire business -- preparation and selling -- is done within the confines of her house, allowing her to continue her primary role as the caretaker of her family. "Some women have had problems with their husbands when they engage in economic activities," she explains. "Those are the women who neglect their family duties."

Some weeks, Selina may be able to make two batches of fritters, doubling her take. But with nearly 15 percent of Malawians HIV-positive and life expectancy at 37.5 years, funerals often occur twice per month, and require donations and communal labor, dipping into her work time.

Selina has been in business for three years. In 2001, the Malawi country office of Care International, a private volunteer organization based in Atlanta, Ga., targeted the 10 most destitute women in Selina's village of 333, just outside the capital, Lilongwe, for a road-maintenance program. The women received economic and personal-empowerment training in exchange for their labor. Selina qualified for the program, learning how to save money with the group and start her own business. The women have now saved $125 for things like fertilizer to boost their husbands' harvests.