Electric Train(er)

Hi-tech and lo-tech innovations in Africa

I spent Saturday at one of the most inspiring conferences I've been to. It was called Africa Gathering, and it was the first event under that banner to focus on mobile and other technologies being used in Africa. (My small role was to lead a discussion on distance learning for African trainees, something we've been doing for 4 years.)

I couldn't attend all the presentations, but the few that I sat in on were a revelation. Ken Banks talked about a nifty piece of software he's developed called frontlineSMS, which allows people to send alerts and information, not via the internet, but by hooking up a laptop to a mobile phone network. Mobiles are ubiquitous, but the internet is not. So SMS is a great way to disseminate info. (Check out kiwanja.net for more.)

Simon Berry spoke about his project colalife, which is based on the premise that if Coca Cola can reach every corner of Africa then why not use the same delivery network to distribute medicine, mosquito nets or anythings else. Simon's use of social media (Facebook, Twitter, etc) and old media (the BBC's PM programme) is an object lesson.

What made these speakers (and many others) stand out was their extraordinary tenacity in the face of big business sluggishness, and a seemingly limitless amount of energy to help people find their own solutions to local problems.

And here's a video from an Austrian agency which gives a flavour of how mobile phones are changing the lives of ordinary Africans – Tanzanians in this case.

Long may the dialogue continue. See you at the next Africa Gathering in Brussels?

Putting the Twit into Twitter

I presume there was a time – about 100 years ago – when the telephone seemed confusingly modern.  All those numbers and letters. The creepy face-like “dial”.  The awkward unfamiliar rotary motion required to get it to work.

And then there was the kit itself – lurking in the corner of the room, and connecting you to God knows where via new-fangled electric wires.

I've been reassuring myself with these thoughts as I've been grappling with the sudden explosion of social networks, or in real English “different ways of talking to people”.

I consider myself a relatively early adopter. We've had a family website since 1999, and had a PVR in the house before Sky Plus became a verb. I've been blogging for years and know how to set up a Facebook group.

So why do I suddenly feel like I've lost the plot?

One tipping point came last week when I realised I had used three different ways of contacting the same person in one morning: once using Twitter to agree a meeting date; then via Facebook because I didn't have her email address, Finally by email, attaching directions to the meeting, copied to someone else who's going to be there too.

The more I think about this, the dafter it sounds.

In the halcyon days (about 2 months ago) I felt I was in control. Facebook worked well for me, and most people in my circles seemed to be on it. My iPhone and computer keep my contact book organised without me having to bother them.   Being on LinkedIn was a bit of a pain, but I convinced myself that it's just a more workman-like version of Facebook and it let people say nice things about me.

Then three business contacts sent me an invitation to join Plaxo. Damn! That's doing the same as LinkedIn, isn't it? But the people on Plaxo are not on LinkedIn, so I've had to join that too.

And now that Twitter is everywhere I've had to learn how to tweet. Suddenly I need a bit of a lie down.

Anyone who's been on my business skills workshops will know that I've always had a clear distinction in my head between work and play. The family website is only for family and close friends. Facebook is a work tool for me, so no photos of the kids.

But this clever mental firewalling has been slowly hacked. What better way to demonstrate this than to tell you my mother-in-law 'friended' me on Facebook last month, and my dad has just started following me on Twitter.  I think I'm flattered on both counts, but it's a bit like having your parents turn up 30 minutes too early to pick you up from the school disco. Efficient, loving even, but deeply unnerving.

And then there's the flawed phenomenon that is Twitter.

I tweet as myself, without using a silly name, and mainly when working. And I follow other twitterers (twits?) who work in the media or training. But everyone seems to be using Twitter in a different way.

One of my friends posts a lovely haiku every Monday. Another unapologetically tweets links to her business website all the time. Yet another comments on interesting media issues, but also provides a bit too much detail about what he and has family are up to. I'd quite like the former without the latter.

Simon Mayo and Mark Kermode have a joint Twitter account, which seems to me to miss the point entirely. I've worked out that it's nearly always Mayo who tweets. Except when it isn't. Very confusing.

And I hope Krishnan Guru-Murthy is taking the piss when he mixes fantastic journalistic messages with tweets like “Walking to the C4 news studio. See you on air in a moment.” (Earlier today he even tweeted during the opening titles to the news he was about to present; “music started”.  That's how I know you must be taking the piss, Krishnan.)

I'm an optimist for whom the laptop battery is always half-full, so I suspect this will all settle down, just as our distant ancestors learnt how to dial a phone number without needing a stiff drink afterwards.

The early signs of help are already there. Different tools are starting to talk to each other. Thankfully I've managed to get Twitter to update my Facebook status using a simply piece of widgetery. (Although the format is different, so Facebook sometimes says things like “David Am in London today”, making me look deranged.)

Software like TweetDeck has its heart in the right place too.  Now instead of one long confusing list of tweets you can arrange them into four or five long confusing columns.  I'm sure I'll get the hang of it eventually.

Casting around for good advice on how not to drown under all this, I read media coach Alan Stevens's excellent weekly newsletter (where does he find the time?!). “Don't use more than one social network at a time”, he writes.  If only, Alan. If only.