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At first, or even third, glance, the dusty and desolate industrial estate at the edge of Khartoum looks more like the set of a bad action movie than a fountainhead of innovative capitalism.

But past the rubbish compactors and discarded hydraulic pistons, and around the corner from the crumbling warehouses that shelter pigeons, weeds and a single, lonely boot, Sudan’s great young entrepreneurial hopes are honing their presentations between frequent sorties to the buffet table.[1]

Over the next few hours and days, the eight men and four women who have won a place in the final of Mashrouy[2], a Sudanese hybrid of The Apprentice[3] and Dragon’s Den[4], will step into the brightly lit studio to face the judges. Though the pitches are well rehearsed and the nerves well buried, the enthusiasm remains fresh.

Abu Bakar Makki is delighted with the machine he has invented to minimise the costs and dangers of using mercury to extract gold – if reluctant to go into the specifics of its design. Maha Abdul Hady Ali hopes her software programme will help to spare women unnecessary and stressful biopsies by scanning mammograms to detect abnormal breast tissue. As for Ashraf Salah, he reckons his mobile taxi app could go the full Uber[5].

Mashrouy, which means “my project” in Arabic, was devised three years ago to address the almost total lack of young entrepreneurship in a country where 62% of the population is under 25 and the youth unemployment rate stands at 23%.[6]

“When we started up the show, none of us could remember the Arabic word for entrepreneurship,” says Hussam Osman of the Sudanese Young Businessmen’s Association[7], which created the show in partnership with the British Council[8].

“We had to look it up. It almost doesn’t exist in Sudanese youth. People here won’t take risks because of the financial risks involved, and people wouldn’t want to give their children money to fund a radical idea.”

The judges look on as Mashrouy finalists pitch their ideas.

Osman says the cultural taboo is exacerbated by Sudan’s economic situation: banks will not lend money unless applicants can show they have collateral equivalent to 120% of the value of the loan.

But he is confident that Mashrouy, now in its third season, is slowly shifting perceptions. He points to the sophistication of this year’s pitches in comparison with those of the first series, when people sought funding to buy cars to use as taxis or to buy newspaper kiosks.

Although the programme offers a top prize of 200,000 Sudanese pounds (£23,000) and has made minor celebrities of former contestants, Osman is adamant that it exists to serve a vital social and economic purpose.

“This isn’t a gameshow; it’s not about giving away prizes – it’s about creating entrepreneurship and jobs. For us, the number one priority is promoting a culture of entrepreneurship.”

But creating a new culture is a lengthy and difficult undertaking, as the winners of the first season of Mashrouy know all too well.

In the town of Kosti, 200 miles south of Khartoum, Samah al-Gadi contemplates the floating green carpet that ripples in the morning breeze and hugs the banks of the White Nile. The water hyacinth[9] is many things to many animals; a pontoon for lazy herons, a hideout for snakes and crocodiles, and, rumour has it, the haunt of the odd hippopotamus.

But for the people who live and work along the shore, the plant is a familiar and pestilential presence that sucks oxygen from the water, blocks irrigation canals, wraps itself around nets and propellers, and harbours malarial mosquitoes and the parasites that carry bilharzia[10].

Samah al-Gadi ensures spirit of enterprise takes root[11]

Since it was introduced to Africa from South America as an ornamental plant in the 19th century, the aquatic interloper has spread through waterways from Lake Victoria to the Nile delta.[12][13]

Gadi, a 34-year-old agricultural science graduate, won Mashrouy in January 2014, after persuading the judges that the dried stems of the water hyacinth could be used to make tablemats, coasters, bags, purses and rope. Her business would not only help tackle an environmental scourge, it would also provide work and income for women and their families.

Two years on, Gadi remains driven – if phlegmatic about her project’s halting progress. A lack of money and a limited workforce of five means she has yet to start production. She also needs more investment and hopes the government will help out.

“One of the strongest things about the project is that it costs nothing and there’s no mechanical or chemical processes,” she says.

Related: Harvesting gum arabic in Sudan – in pictures[14]

“Poor families don’t need anything to work it so they will get the benefit very quickly. It will help women and poor people who don’t have jobs – it will bring extra money for their families. The products are also very beautiful.”

Mazin Merghani, who came second in the original series, is also finding it tough to get his project up and running. The 26-year-old engineer hopes to boost production of one of Sudan’s largest agricultural exports, gum arabic, by giving farmers a new tool with which to tap acacia trees and collect their sap.

Although gum arabic is fundamental to Sudan’s economy – the country produces about 80% of the world’s supply, and the gum is exempt from the US sanctions[15] in place since 1997 – Merghani feels it is still underexploited.

“Twenty-five percent of Sudan[16] is covered by the gum arabic belt and my invention could help,” he says. “If we could collect all the gum arabic here, it would be worth $2bn a year. At the moment, we’re collecting less than 10%.”

Mazin Merghani aims to boost production of gum arabic, one of Sudan’s largest agricultural exports.

Merghani is planing to travel to Turkey soon to get a new prototype made. He is confident that his tool – in both its manual and automated versions – will boost gum arabic harvests by being quicker and gentler than the axes and knives currently used.

“It’s taking a long time – we’ve been working on it since 2011 – but I know it will work,” he says.

Charles Nuttall, director of the British Council in Sudan, says Mashrouy has already reached thousands of young people directly and millions more indirectly. With the UK foreign office putting up just over a quarter of the show’s £450,000 budget – the rest is funded by the Sudanese private sector – he is also adamant that it is proving a good investment.

“Creative entrepreneurship is not only far better understood in Sudan, but it is actually making a difference,” he says.

“We believe that by connecting creative sectors and cultural institutions in the UK with Sudanese partners they are empowered to develop initiatives and ideas that share their experience of developing the creative economy and promote the wider impact of this process in terms of education, economic regeneration, social inclusion and international engagement.”

The difference is sorely needed. Sudan’s economy is struggling, the pound has hit a record low and the long queues outside bakeries in some states are testament to the high price of cooking gas and a shortage of flour.

Mashrouy finalists await their turn at a recording session in a disused industrial park in Khartoum.

Nearly five years after South Sudan[17] seceded from its northern neighbour, taking roughly three-quarters of the once-united country’s oilfields with it, the consequences of separation[18] are still keenly felt.

In Kosti, the passenger ferry that used to make the three-day journey to what is now the South Sudanese town of Malakal has not run since separation; it now lies mired in water hyacinth and bleaching in the sun.

Gadi admits that she, too, occasionally feels a little becalmed.

“Sometimes I feel like letting it all go but then I think about how much I have done to get the project working. I’ve been doing this for a year and a half and I will keep going until I get the project to work,” she says.

When frustration starts to get the better of her, she reflects, albeit reluctantly, on her responsibilities as a role model for Sudan’s aspiring entrepreneurs.

“I get a lot of messages and some young people have told me that they were going to leave school,” she says. “But they’ve seen me and decided to do something for their country.”

References

  1. ^ Sudan (www.theguardian.com)
  2. ^ Mashrouy (sudan.britishcouncil.org)
  3. ^ The Apprentice (www.theguardian.com)
  4. ^ Dragon’s Den (www.theguardian.com)
  5. ^ Uber (www.theguardian.com)
  6. ^ youth unemployment rate stands at 23% (data.worldbank.org)
  7. ^ Sudanese Young Businessmen’s Association (www.facebook.com)
  8. ^ British Council (sudan.britishcouncil.org)
  9. ^ water hyacinth (www.irinnews.org)
  10. ^ bilharzia (www.who.int)
  11. ^ Samah al-Gadi ensures spirit of enterprise takes root (www.theguardian.com)
  12. ^ South America (www.theguardian.com)
  13. ^ aquatic interloper (www.fao.org)
  14. ^ Harvesting gum arabic in Sudan – in pictures (www.theguardian.com)
  15. ^ gum is exempt from the US sanctions (www.theguardian.com)
  16. ^ Sudan (www.theguardian.com)
  17. ^ South Sudan (www.theguardian.com)
  18. ^ separation (www.theguardian.com)

Source http://www.bing.com/news/apiclick.aspx?ref=FexRss&aid=&tid=92F5541AE1494CE2857DCDBBF2B126E9&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.theguardian.com%2Fglobal-development%2F2016%2Ffeb%2F16%2Fmashrouy-sudan-dragons-den-meets-the-apprentice-tv-show-young-ambition&c=VwJjQExVdRt8o_nePaMUGtY8C1f23KDKFuLfSiEWvuU&mkt=en-ca