VALUING THE INFORMAL
An Introduction to The Banker Ladies, by Dr. Caroline Hossein
FORTUNATELY DIGITAL: BIG INTERNETSome local innovations are informal institutions. They are known by vernacular terms that mean something to the members who create these institutions. Have you heard of Ajo, Osusu, Sandooq, Altin, Partner, Chit, or Arisan? These are the cultural names for member-owned institutions – or banking co-operatives – used by people around the world. Other institutional names include Ghana’s Susu, the Chinese Hua, and Sri Lanka’s Cheetu (Low 1995). These co-operative banks are known by academics as rotating savings and credit associations (ROSCAs). (I also use the terms money pools, self-help groups, co-operatives, and banking co-ops interchangeably with ROSCAs.) ROSCAs are hidden forms of co-operatives that Black/African descent women – and many diverse groups – practice in Canada, the United States, the Caribbean, and elsewhere in our world.
Many of the women I met while doing my research have engaged in ROSCAs their whole lives – indeed, ROSCAs are a tradition among African diasporic groups. Migrating to another country is a struggle; when people move, they turn inwards to form ROSCAs to address livelihood-related needs as well as to build friendships and form ties with people in their new lands. For this reason, ROSCAs are seen as a form of mutual aid: people can count on others for financial assistance as well as for social connections. The racism and exclusion immigrants encounter in their new countries can, in a peculiar way, bond them with people of the same race and socio-economic background (Vélez-Ibáñez 1983). The co-operative banks they form are made up of voluntary members who, together, decide on the rules and make regular contributions to a fund that is later given either in whole or in part to each member in turn. Ordinary people jointly create the rules according to the interests of their members.
Black women in charge of these financial services for their communities – known as the Banker Ladies – have much to teach us through their contributions to politics and economics. A longstanding saying in the Black Muslim community (among American Muslims especially) holds that “politics without economics is symbol without substance.” This adage suggests that politics and voice is limited if people are struggling economically (Farrakhan 2019). The Banker Ladies are the vanguards, the keepers, and saviours of mutual aid and economic co-operation because they demonstrate the ability to build and mobilize capital from within society and achieve it from inside of a group. In Reversed Realities, development scholar Naila Kabeer (1994) explained three decades ago that “power within” is a vital concept for marginalized women because they are the ones who can band together to bring sustained changes in society. The Banker Ladies whom I have studied for years know full well that, without economic clout, little can be done to bring lasting change to their communities. The Banker Ladies are aware that any change to their position or status in society must work in tandem with internal collective organization.
As socially engaged artists and culture workers, we must take it upon ourselves to act in order to establish for ourselves how we can achieve social and economic justice within the art world.
For generations, Black and African descent women have taught one another how to save and lend to each other co-operatively and outside of formal institutions.1 During the COVID-19 lockdown in April 2021, one of my community partners familiar with ROSCAs in Toronto’s west end proposed we launch a Partner Savings (Jamaican name for a ROSCA) workshop for young women using my funding for social innovations within the Black Social Economy. Hiring Banker Ladies to offer training on a Partner Bank was a trying process because university financial personnel would scrutinize my projects and insinuate that my Banker Ladies were “frauds.” I think it was viewed this way because the idea of Black women teaching others about money systems is “unknown” to most people. The perception that ROSCAs are a form of “fraud” is commonplace. Whether intentional or not, this negative framing reveals an example of systemic racism at work, one in which white (and typically cis-het male) people refuse to see the Banker Ladies as equipped to lead financial training sessions. Such responses from university administrators undermines my body of work acknowledging informal co-operatives of people of the Black/ African diaspora.
This book, The Banker Ladies, will demonstrate that ROSCAs are indeed co-operatives – and anything but underdeveloped. Millions of people around the world are participating in the ROSCA system. In fact Grassroots Finance Action, using the World Bank’s (2021) Findex21 report, estimates that there are at least 419 million ROSCA users in the Global South amassing between 50–100 billion in savings (Ashe 2023). That is a lot of people choosing to selforganize and to assist one another through informal co-operative banks. Given the deep-seated exclusion felt by certain groups, or people who do not trust commercial banks, ROSCAs must often function underground, as noted in the Canadian case in this book. Forming co-operative banks informally is one way to push back against an elitist Babylon (Jamaican word for establishment) and a racial capitalist system.
No single person makes art, or initiates change, alone.
My goal as a researcher is to change society for the better; making ROSCA systems known comes with a degree of risk – or at least it used to when this work began in 2014 in the Canadian context. I have since been attuned to the possibility of legal issues, and that authorities may pressure me to give them my data; still, I have chosen anonymity and confidentiality in all instances. I have been careful with legal issues that may arise out of this work and changed the names of individuals afraid of reprisal. In recent years, a few of the Banker Ladies have chosen to be known and seen, and even refer to themselves as the Banker Ladies as a symbol of pride. In any case, I have erred on the side of caution and sought legal advice. This project went through an escalated ethical clearance process to ensure that no legal authority could contact any of my subjects because all materials have been destroyed at the time of production and the completed peer review process. My duty is to respect the ethical research guidelines under which I operate as a researcher.2
The foundation of the ROSCA system is based on community, sharing, and giving. Njeri Kinyanjui’s (2012) work highlights that redistribution is critical to Kenyan Vyama groups since the sharing of funds is how this form of business financing works. The fact that these women save funds and share them with one another to help advance each other’s life goals is compelling. It demonstrates how care for one another underpins these money pools, and reveals another way to organize the financial economy. ROSCA systems give time and attention to sharing funds while also undertaking the social work of repairing harms done against Black women. ROSCAs create a safe space for folks to be heard, exert their citizenship, and access the goods they need.
Premised on a philosophy of strategic transparency—which I developed to offer a mode of abetting change by strategically taking advantage of assumptions made by those in power16—the Network advocates for a thorough understanding of the role of artists in the perpetuation of dominant technological systems in order to subvert or counter those expectations. Initially launched as a series of virtual workshops during the first throes of the COVID-19 pandemic, the project has expanded to include exhibitions, book projects, and an independent press imprint. Simultaneously, it is encapsulated in a series of ever-expanding manifestos17 collaboratively authored by over 70 arts workers, with many more contributions to come. These manifestos outline a set of beliefs and commitments that we can each fold into our personal practices. And while I launched the project individually, it is my hope that it will evolve beyond me, becoming less tied to my personal artistic goals and more inclusive of anyone who wants to take some form of ownership.
It is worth re-emphasizing that no single person makes art, or initiates change, alone; we are always connected by an extensive web of mutual support. As George, Liu, and the Dark Inquiry Collective demonstrate, understanding and exercising strategic transparency within widely accepted routes to atomized success and acclaim might actually allow for the development of those urgent networks, which can open more doors for more people. Although traditional art world accolades and success are most often awarded on an individual level, it doesn’t mean that artist practices have to remain siloed or detached from solidarity. If we just frame it differently, it turns out that there are more than enough flowers out there for us all.
The women I met in the Caribbean and Canada use ROSCAs for several reasons. The Banker Ladies I interviewed told me that they organize these groups because members choose to do their savings collectively with people they know and trust. Many of the women I met with often had a sideline business or were self-employed. Accessing a line of credit or business loan was often out of reach for them, while having access to a lump sum of cash could help develop their existing business or start a new one. Some of the common businesses I encountered were craft and sewing shops, “buy and sell” trading systems (selling household goods from markets to local communities), food and catering services, hair salons, and daycares.
To make sense of how ROSCAs help women, it is imperative to know how they use these funds. Jamaican higglers (small business traders) I interviewed told me that they used Partner funds to pay for their travel to Panama or Miami; they also used the Partner hand to buy consumer goods they could then to sell in Kingston’s markets (see also Ulysse 2007). Fishmongers I met in Accra’s Makola (in Ghana) in 2017 explained how Susu helped them purchase freezers to prevent spoilage. A Bajan entrepreneur based in Montreal recounted (2016) how she had drawn on Meeting Turn to start up her catering business; she continues to use ROSCA systems regularly to help expand her business. A Guyanese mobile hairstylist in Scarborough (Toronto’s east end) confided in me (2017) that Boxhand money helped her purchase a second-hand car, which has allowed her to attend to more clients, including clients in areas of the city where public transportation is limited. The diamante poem below offers a quick glance at what a ROSCA represents and how it helps the women who use these community banks.
Many of the women I interviewed identified themselves as casual employees or self-employed, lacking in benefits they may require on short notice. Many do not have extended health care benefits and need money for dental visits, injury care, and counselling. There are times when a group will organize a ROSCA to help member who has just lost a loved one to gun violence, and these funds are raised as a gift to the grieving family, or to help with funeral costs. Some women reported using the money for travels to visit family, conduct home renovations, and engage in other activities in the name of joy.
The Black women who lead ROSCAs are not the only ones involved in this financial self-help model. They are the ones, however, whose contributions to inclusive financial economies are ignored – even stigmatized – when alternatives to exclusion are being discussed. Or men will take to the platform to analyse and assess what is very clearly feminist, and clearly women’s, work. ROSCAs are an example of the Black Social Economy in action,4 where members tap into good will, mutual aid, and reciprocity to confront violence and exclusion (Hossein 2018b).
Collective organization can be threatening to those who want certain groups managed and contained. The very idea that Black women – often not schooled in corporate finance due to systemic barriers – are able to communalize money systems to do good and assist in economic development exposes the elitism within commercial economic systems. By emphasizing collective financial action by the oppressed, Black Social Economy Theory looks to the possibilities of politicized co-operation where people choose to come together to pursue a business activity. Black Social Economy Theory asserts that the Banker Ladies deliberately take up space in the informal arenas by organizing ROSCAs to counter various forms of social exclusion. By doing this work largely out of sight, The Banker Ladies expose the lies, hubris, and deeply embedded exclusion – largely a result of colonialism and the vestiges of white supremacy – that lurk in development and solidarity economics, a field built to ignore the presence and potential of community focused economies.
ROSCAs teach us that solidarity matters.
1. Many of these social movements operate in tandem with the arts spaces and organizations that I have, over time, affiliated myself with. There is, in fact, a large overlap between my artist and activist social circles. It is heartening and empowering to be able to see strength in numbers, to see the participation of my friends and fellow artists, and to know that—although we can sometimes feel isolated—we are not alone in our commitment to building a more just and equitable world.
2. Following sociologist Howard Becker (1982), I acknowledge here that there is not one, singular art world; instead, there are multiple art worlds, which overlap, intersect, influence, and contradict each other. Here, I speak of the ways in which artists (in my own anecdotal experience) have been professionalized in our practices to consider specific achievements, goals, and honorifics as indicators of wider success.
3. Kondo, D. (2018, p. 54). Worldmaking: Race, Performance, and the Work of Creativity. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.
4. Valentina Di Liscia, "Whitney Museum Cancels Exhibition After Criticism Over Acquisition Process," Hyperallergic, 2020.
5. Alex Greenberger, "Warren Kanders Resigns from Whitney Board After Months of Controversy," ARTnews, 2019.
6. Hakim Bishara, "Walker Art Center Cuts Ties With Minneapolis Police Department," Hyperallergic, 2020,
7. Jaspreet Kaur, "Art & Fossil Fuels: The Role of Cultural Institutions in Climate Justice," ICAAD, 2023.
8. BlackStar, "PACBI Statement," BlackStar Film Festival, 2023.
9. As an example: the fifteenth edition of Documenta (a major contemporary art exhibition series held every five years in Germany), organized by Indonesian art collective ruangrupa, was meant to demonstrate institutional embrace of justice-oriented practice; the festival’s intent was to be a celebration of collective unity, emphasizing “an alternative, community-oriented model of sustainability, in ecological, social, and economic terms – where resources, ideas, or knowledge are shared.” However, controversy stemming from instrumentalized accusations of antisemitism leveled at Documenta (for decisions to show anti-Zionist work and to platform a Palestinian art collective) overshadowed this celebration, led to withdrawal of institutional support, and served to reify the repression of collective voices. from ruangrupa, "documenta fifteen," documenta, 2022; See also “We are angry, we are sad, we are tired, we are united: Letter from lumbung community”, e-flux, 2022.
10. Admittedly, this is often driven by funders and philanthropic models, particularly in the US where state arts funding is scarce and the importance of art is often delegitimized in wider public discourse. This simply reinforces the idea that there is only so much that organizations can do to support artists who adhere to alternative models of making and being; ultimately, they are as beholden to the demands of capitalism as the rest of us.
11. Paul Soulellis, "Urgentcraft," 2021.
12. Artblog, "Rami George announces PHEW microgrants to 16 artists," 2022.
12. Artblog, "Rami George announces PHEW microgrants to 16 artists," 2022.
13. Fei Liu, "Explorations in Social Practice," Try To Be Good, 2023.
14. "Bail Bloc,” The New Inquiry, 2017 .
15. This also motivated a larger body of research into the relationships between new media artists and the tech industry, which spanned interviews, autoethnography, archival work, and the development of the workshops I mention here (see Vasudevan, R. (2023). High-Level Creativity: New Media Art and the Priorities of the Tech Industry (Publication no. 30529471) [Doctoral dissertation]. ProQuest Dissertations & Theses Global.).
16. Roopa Vasudevan, Transparency, Hypervisibility, Revelation: On Modalities of Creative Resistance. Amherst, MA: Strategic Transparency Press [self-published], 2024.
17. Strategic Transparency Network, “The Manifestos,” We Refuse, We Want, We Commit: The Manifestos for Creative Resistance in Technology, Self-published, 2023.
16. Roopa Vasudevan, Transparency, Hypervisibility, Revelation: On Modalities of Creative Resistance. Amherst, MA: Strategic Transparency Press [self-published], 2024.
17. Strategic Transparency Network, “The Manifestos,” We Refuse, We Want, We Commit: The Manifestos for Creative Resistance in Technology, Self-published, 2023.