LocationsBy Martin Namasaka
Measuring What Matters: Pateh Baldeh and the Search for the 'Why' Behind the Work
October 7, 2026
By mid-morning, the heat in The Gambia has begun to settle over the landscape. Thousands of miles away, inside the UN Complex in Bakau, The Gambia, the distance disappears through a screen. Across the digital divide, Pateh Baldeh sits in his UNDP office in The Gambia, talking about something most people rarely think about until it becomes impossible to ignore: waste.
Today, Pateh is a seasoned monitoring and evaluation analyst with more than a decade of experience, firmly grounded in his profession. Yet as our conversation unfolds, I discover that his journey began not with indicator tables or results frameworks, but in a classroom.
Pateh, before we dive into everything you're handling today, take me back. Where did this entire journey actually start for you?
(Laughs softly.) My journey began in the classroom, where I taught English Language and later became Head of the Language Department. I believed education could open doors and expand opportunities. Teaching also introduced me to my first real lesson in monitoring progress: following a lesson plan was not enough. I had to see who was keeping up, who was struggling, and when to adjust my approach. I later moved into financial inclusion with the Social Development Fund (SDF) – a national development finance institution in The Gambia that supports community development, livelihoods, and access to financial services for vulnerable populations, followed by research and governance, and eventually environmental work with UNDP. Although the sectors changed, one question remained: why do some institutions turn opportunities into meaningful improvements in people’s lives while others struggle? That question eventually drew me to monitoring and evaluation, where I could explore what was changing, for whom, why, and whether the change would endure.
Was there something from those early years that you have carried with you?
Definitely. Good intentions do not guarantee good results, and one-size-fits-all approaches rarely work. I learned that in the classroom, and development work is no different. A farmer in Kuwonku Ba and a policy officer at the National Water and Electricity Company (NAWEC) may need to understand the same environmental risk, but the communication of the message must be different and reflect their different realities. That is why I look beyond activities and outputs. A strong strategy, large budget, and long list of completed activities matter only if they lead to change. Who benefited, and who was left behind? For me, evidence is more than a reporting requirement.
What is something people might not know about you?
(Smiles.) Those who know me mainly through reports, indicators, and verification exercises may be surprised that I am also a published researcher. In 2021, I published a peer-reviewed article on ethno-regionalism and political party loyalty in The Gambia. Research reflects my curiosity about why people behave as they do, how institutions influence choices, and why similar circumstances produce different outcomes. That curiosity continues to shape my work today. Numbers show you what is happening, but I am more interested in why. My academic journey has given me opportunities to explore these questions deeply. Competitive scholarships enabled me to study Governance and Regional Integration at the Pan African University in Cameroon, followed by Conflict, Governance and Global Development at the University of East Anglia in the UK.
And today, much of your work is connected to environmental protection. How did that become part of your story?
The transition was gradual. At the Social Development Fund, I worked a lot with rural communities in the Central River and Upper River Regions on financial inclusion and livelihoods. Later, while researching food security and agricultural policy, I saw how deeply livelihoods depend on soil, water and the wider environment. People’s ability to feed their families, grow food and earn an income cannot be separated from their surroundings. Moving into environmental work therefore felt less like a completely new direction and more like a continuation of my work on livelihoods, governance, institutions and evidence. My work on hazardous chemicals and waste reinforced this connection. Pollution is not only an environmental concern but also a governance and development challenge. Are institutions coordinated in their work? Are laws enforced? Can communities understand the information they receive? Are vulnerable groups included in decisions that affect them? These are development questions too.
Your current work deals with pollutants that most people may never have heard of. How do you explain it without the technical language?
(Gesturing thoughtfully) I explain it as two invisible threats hidden in everyday life.
The first is aging electrical equipment, particularly old transformers that may secretly contain dangerous hazardous chemicals called PCBs. People pass this equipment every day, unaware that leaks or improper handling can contaminate soil, water and food.
The second threat is open waste burning, a common practice. Although the smoke eventually clears, it releases toxic pollutants that remain in the environment, settle on crops and enter the food chain.
At the end of the day, our work aims to close the gap between what is commonly accepted and what is truly safe. We promote safer equipment, less open burning, cleaner air, healthier soil and stronger protection for the places where people live, work, grow food and raise their children.
So, what is UNDP actually trying to change through this work?
(Leaning forward earnestly) We aim to help The Gambia shift from cleaning up pollution after harm occurs to preventing it through stronger systems. This aligns with UNDP's global commitment to environmental sustainability, climate resilience and strengthening institutions, while also supporting The Gambia's environmental and waste-management priorities under national development and environmental frameworks. In practical terms, this means strengthening legal and administrative frameworks, identifying and safely securing PCB-contaminated equipment, building national capacity to manage hazardous waste, reducing open waste burning, and helping communities adopt safer alternatives.
But it goes way beyond just technical solutions; lasting change depends on who drives it. We support communities, especially women, not simply as victims of pollution but as agents of change. Through tailored training, awareness, stronger institutional coordination, and accessible channels for raising concerns, we aim to embed practices that continue beyond the project. Ultimately, the goal is to leave stronger institutions and everyday practices that protect people and the environment over the long term.
What does that actually look like on the ground?
(Pausing thoughtfully) On the ground, prevention means turning policy into visible action, such as securing aging PCB-contaminated equipment, preparing a temporary storage facility in Brikama, and training personnel in safe disposal.
Change is equally visible in communities. In Kuwonku Ba, women use new chambers to turn organic waste into garden compost. Tricycles improve medical-waste collection, motorbikes help monitoring teams reach remote areas, and national officers are building the skills to manage hazardous waste safely.
Behind the scenes, I track progress, verify evidence, and assess whether results are taking hold. Ultimately figures matter only when they reflect reduced risks and stronger protection for people and the environment.
Are there people you met in the communities who are happy about UNDP's work in this area? If so, mention them and their quotes.
(Gesturing thoughtfully) Yes, absolutely. During a monitoring visit, I met women whose experiences brought the value of this work to life. Their stories showed that environmental protection can improve soil health, boost food production, raise household incomes, and strengthen family well-being.
In Kuwonku Ba in the Upper River Region, Ndey Demba experienced this change firsthand. Describing the women’s previous approach to organic waste, she said: “We used to burn because we didn't know any better. It polluted the air and left our gardens barren”. Since they began composting, she has seen significant gains: “Our vegetables are greener, yields have doubled, and they weigh more, fetching better prices and improving our health and livelihood”. Village Development Committee Chairman Jalamang Touray added that composting improves soil structure and water retention, reduces reliance on costly chemical inputs, and makes the community more environmentally healthy and economically resilient.
In Farafenni, Fatou Sillah linked the initiative directly to her household’s well-being and her children’s education: “We now earn enough to cover household needs and pay school fees”. Institutional change is also emerging. A NAWEC Legal Compliance Officer who attended the December 2025 PCB training described the sessions as “highly insightful, engaging, and informative” and reported that NAWEC subsequently began drafting its first internal policy on PCB management.
After everything you've seen, what still gives you hope?
(Pausing, a quiet smile breaking through) What gives me hope is seeing knowledge lead to action – women replacing waste burning with safer practices, households benefiting from improved livelihoods, and institutions establishing stronger systems. Challenges remain, including demanding physical work and limited representation in leadership, but people’s determination to learn and adapt keeps me going. Ultimately, true progress is measured by people and institutions changing their behaviour in ways that endure beyond the project.
For Pateh, the clearest measure of progress is not the number of completed activities or reported indicators, but the lasting changes. A woman composting instead of burning waste, a household earning more from a healthier garden, or an institution introducing safeguards where none existed. Although much of his work happens through spreadsheets, verification exercises and monitoring visits, its purpose is deeply people-centred – to build systems that make people safer, strengthen communities and sustain change. Ultimately, progress means turning knowledge into action that lasts.
