Three months from receiving my diploma at an upper-crust uni prep programme in the UK, I quit. I had always wanted to study electronic engineering. Student life suited me, and despite a heavy course load and lots of homework, I enjoyed my subjects thoroughly. So why stop? questioned my professors and classmates. I’m not sure I know myself, but let me try to explain.
My personal plans are not the only things that need remodelling. In fact, my journey began last month, when a devastating earthquake ripped apart Port-au-Prince, killing over 230,000 Haitians. In minutes, a city was reduced to death and rubble.
Headline news informed of developments at the quake site as ever-rising statistics of dead, injured and homeless boggled our minds. Still, as corpses were dragged from the wreckage and piled in the streets, I wondered why this could happen. Whose fault was the earthquake?
There are the obvious explanations. An earthquake is a natural disaster. Port-au-Prince lies on a fault line. The sedimentary nature of the island and the magnitude and intensity of the quake all contributed to severe ground shaking. However, nature is not solely to blame.

The earthquake itself killed relatively few. Rather, it was the crumpled buildings that claimed lives. When the quake struck, many of Port-au-Prince’s houses ‘pancaked’ as poorly supported concrete floors collapsed on top of each other, crushing anyone inside. Overcrowding had forced thousands of people into these death traps, with appalling results.
Haiti is the poorest country in the Western hemisphere, and its poverty undoubtedly multiplied the death count. This leads to the next question: why is Haiti so poor?
The country’s long and difficult history offers insight. Since 1803 when slavery was abolished via popular uprising, relentless imperialism has ravished the island nation. First, there were blockades by foreign powers. France’s eventual offer to resurrect trading ties after the revolution included a demand for reparations for lost slaves and property. Usurious interest rates on loans to Haiti, exploitation of its agricultural resources, and a series of military occupations ensured wealth to foreign stakeholders and a sweatshop economy to the peasants.

From this history I feel that as a citizen of a first world nation, I share the blame for Haiti’s poverty. Therefore, I wondered, ‘What can I do to help?’
This is proving a difficult question. For me as I suspect for most people, it is impractical and costly to actually travel to Haiti and help directly. Of course, financial donations are always effective, but I felt that more radical change was required of me. I realised I was being sucked into a first world social system that perpetuates the poverty of countries such as Haiti.
This was particularly true of my education, where I was heading for five years of university and a profitable but purely selfish career. I decided to try to redirect my life from working for the benefit of myself to trying to work for the benefit of other people.
I am inspired by the story of the Austrian millionaire Karl Rabeder, who lately gave away all his money to charity because he saw that ‘money is counterproductive – it prevents happiness to come.’ Similarly, I decided to give up my studies and career with its promise of wealth. Instead, I am volunteering my time helping others in my neighbourhood.
I also am trying to lower my high standard of living as a way of demonstrating solidarity with the earthquake victims. For example, a few friends and I decided to eat only two meals a day, and we skip dinner quite often as well. The money we save on groceries is donated to local charities, some of which work in third world countries like Haiti.
These steps have actually made me happier. I doubt that I have done much to alleviate world need. Still, if enough other people are similarly affected by the Haitian earthquake, who knows how the world could be changed.