The word “sustainability” is everywhere — in speeches, reports, funding proposals. But behind this trendy term… do we really understand what it means?
For the European Union and institutional donors (AFD, USAID, FCDO, GIZ, UN agencies…), a project is considered sustainable when it can continue without external funding: “The project will carry on after funding ends. There must be long-term resources (public co-funding, generated income, local contribution systems).”
At Mekong Plus, we find this definition deeply biased. It’s overly technical and financial — and it forgets the most important part: people. At the very least, we must ask: sustainability of what, and for whom?
Recently, I read a frustrating report from another NGO. A woman had not used her microloan as expected, and the system deemed it a failure. But what happened? She had used it to escape an abusive husband and flee with her children. That was success in the most vital sense.
In Rumdoul, Cambodia, we help Mrs. Samol with her vegetable garden. Brave and resilient, she has only one arm — the other was lost to her violent husband.
Ms.Samol is supported for her vegetable garden
Are Social Services Meant to Be Profitable?
Should schools and hospitals be financially “viable”? Even wealthy countries can’t meet that standard — their deficits are covered by the state. NGOs, by contrast, work in poor regions where public services are limited or nonexistent.
Did you know stroke rates in Vietnam (and China) are double those in the US, Canada, or Japan? When a stroke occurs, it often pushes an entire household into extreme poverty.
Should we teach better nutrition? Of course. But who pays for that if everything must be financially sustainable? Some argue: projects should align with national policy. Fair enough — but poor countries cannot meet every priority right away. Nor can village communities, however united.
Public Health vs. Sustainability: A Double Standard?
Is it fair to demand that health services in the Global South be “sustainable” (i.e., self-funded)? Even in rich countries, healthcare is tax-funded. No public hospital survives on patient fees alone.
An expert once told me, “The problem with health programs is they’re not sustainable.” This revealed a fundamental misunderstanding of poverty. Health crises are often why households fall into poverty — and when they do, it’s too late for microcredit or agricultural training to help.
So who pays for health education and prevention?
The Poverty Spiral Tied to Health Crises
When small savings are exhausted, families turn to relatives, neighbors, or, as a last resort, loan sharks. These lenders exploit their desperation: up to 30% interest per month or collateral like land, which they may seize permanently if repayments are late.
In Đức Linh, a woman fell from a jackfruit tree. Multiple fractures. She was transported to Saigon in a rickety van. At the hospital, they demanded €900 up front — no money, no treatment. The family couldn’t pay. She was sent home — 140 km — without care, starved intentionally “to end the suffering quickly.”
Fragile Local Solidarity
More often, local solidarity kicks in quickly: basic care, urgent support. But the care is rudimentary, and the consequences are long-term. The poorest people do the most dangerous jobs.
In Ninh Sơn, I visited 8 very poor households. Five had plunged into extreme poverty after an accident or illness.
A Small NGO Facing Giant Challenges
What can a small NGO do beyond urgent response? We must mobilize the community, help people claim their rights, apply for official support. A health insurance policy could change everything — but it often costs several months’ income. And even then, school fees come first.
Education: Costly, but Essential
In Vietnam, one in four children doesn’t make it to high school. In Cambodia, it’s two in three. Some donors ask, “Aren’t scholarships a bottomless pit?” Yet according to the World Bank and UNICEF, every additional year of schooling increases future income by 10–20%.
Education is expensive, but it’s an excellent investment. Parents devote 20–30% of their income per child. Rural families know agriculture isn’t enough — farms are small, nature is unpredictable. It’s when the children finish school and get jobs that the whole household can rise. School expenses end, and children, once working, gladly support their parents.
Investing in a Safer Home Is Investing in the Future
Is fixing a roof a frivolous expense? When it rains indoors, how can children sleep or study?
In the villages, I’ve stopped asking older women their age. They often look 20 years older than me, broken by a lifetime of hardship. A single illness can be fatal.
Every year, Mekong Plus helps build over 200 homes — co-financed by local governments and neighbors.
Is Microcredit Truly Sustainable?
Some microfinance institutions cover their costs… by charging 60% annual interest. Their services are far from the villages. Farmers must travel long distances, wait for hours, return multiple times — while their crops suffer. In truth, the costs aren’t eliminated — they’re passed to the farmers. And at a high price.
The Mekong Plus Approach: Proximity and Trust
We focus on the very poorest — those living on less than €1/day. Where others won’t lend under €1,000, we offer small loans of €100, initially interest-free. No paperwork. Our loans are delivered on-site, by trained social workers who are also agronomists and family counselors.
First, we check that the children are in school. Helping a family today means little if the children have no future tomorrow.
People First, Not Pigs
A young colleague once arrived at a farm and said, “I came to check the pigs!” I stopped him right away: “We’re here for the people — not the pigs, and not the repayments. We’ll look at the pigsty later.”
Putting Villagers at the Center
When villagers truly lead the project, the impact becomes sustainable — not in Excel charts, but in real lives. At Mekong Plus, this is our choice: betting on trust, proximity, and dignity. Because the best proof of sustainability… is when they no longer need us.
