Developing Countries Quotes

Quotes tagged as "developing-countries" (showing 1-11 of 11)
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman
“আমার নিজের একটা অসুবিধা হয়েছিলো। আমার অভ্যাস, নিজে দাড়ি কাটি। নাপিত ভাইদের বোধহয় দাড়ি কাটতে কোনোদিন পয়সা দেই নাই। ব্লেড আমার কাছে যা ছিলো শেষ হয়ে গেছে। ব্লেড কিনতে গেলে শুনলাম, ব্লেড পাওয়া যায়না। বিদেশ থেকে ব্লেড আনার অনুমতি নাই। পিকিংয়েও চেষ্টা করেছিলাম পাই নাই। ভাবলাম,তিয়েন শিং-এ নিশ্চয়ই পাওয়া যাবে। এত বড় শিল্প এলাকা ও সামুদ্রিক বন্দর! এক দোকানে বহু পুরানা কয়েকখানা ব্লেড পেলাম, কিন্তু তাতে আর দাড়ি কাটা যাবেনা। আর এগুলো কেউ কিনেও না। চীন দেশে যে জিনিস তৈরি হয়না, তা লোকে ব্যবহার করবে না।”
Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, অসমাপ্ত আত্মজীবনী

Mario J. Molina
“..the planet is just too small for these developing countries to repeat the economic growth in the same way that the rich countries have done it in the past. We don't have enough natural resources, we don't have enough atmosphere. Clearly, something has to change.”
Mario Molina

Junot Díaz
“After his initial homecoming week, after he'd been taken to a bunch of sights by his cousins, after he'd gotten somewhat used to the scorching weather and the surprise of waking up to the roosters and being called Huascar by everybody (that was his Dominican name, something else he'd forgotten), after he refused to succumb to that whisper that all long-term immigrants carry inside themselves, the whisper that says You do not belong, after he'd gone to about fifty clubs and because he couldn't dance salsa, merengue, or bachata had sat and drunk Presidentes while Lola and his cousins burned holes in the floor, after he'd explained to people a hundred times that he'd been separated from his sister at birth, after he spent a couple of quiet mornings on his own, writing, after he'd given out all his taxi money to beggars and had to call his cousin Pedro Pablo to pick him up, after he'd watched shirtless shoeless seven-year-olds fighting each other for the scraps he'd left on his plate at an outdoor cafe, after his mother took them all to dinner in the Zona Colonial and the waiters kept looking at their party askance (Watch out, Mom, Lola said, they probably think you're Haitian - La unica haitiana aqui eres tu, mi amor, she retorted), after a skeletal vieja grabbed both his hands and begged him for a penny, after his sister had said, You think that's bad, you should see the bateys, after he'd spent a day in Bani (the camp where La Inca had been raised) and he'd taken a dump in a latrine and wiped his ass with a corn cob - now that's entertainment, he wrote in his journal - after he'd gotten somewhat used to the surreal whirligig that was life in La Capital - the guaguas, the cops, the mind-boggling poverty, the Dunkin' Donuts, the beggars, the Haitians selling roasted peanuts at the intersections, the mind-boggling poverty, the asshole tourists hogging up all the beaches, the Xica de Silva novelas where homegirl got naked every five seconds that Lola and his female cousins were cracked on, the afternoon walks on the Conde, the mind-boggling poverty, the snarl of streets and rusting zinc shacks that were the barrios populares, the masses of niggers he waded through every day who ran him over if he stood still, the skinny watchmen standing in front of stores with their brokedown shotguns, the music, the raunchy jokes heard on the streets, the mind-boggling poverty, being piledrived into the corner of a concho by the combined weight of four other customers, the music, the new tunnels driving down into the bauxite earth,”
Junot Díaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao

Junot Díaz
“After his initial homecoming week, after he'd been taken to a bunch of sights by his cousins, after he'd gotten somewhat used to the scorching weather and the surprise of waking up to the roosters and being called Huascar by everybody (that was his Dominican name, something else he'd forgotten), after he refused to succumb to that whisper that all long-term immigrants carry inside themselves, the whisper that says You do not belong, after he'd gone to about fifty clubs and because he couldn't dance salsa, merengue, or bachata had sat and drunk Presidentes while Lola and his cousins burned holes in the floor, after he'd explained to people a hundred times that he'd been separated from his sister at birth, after he spent a couple of quiet mornings on his own, writing, after he'd given out all his taxi money to beggars and had to call his cousin Pedro Pablo to pick him up, after he'd watched shirtless shoeless seven-year-olds fighting each other for the scraps he'd left on his plate at an outdoor cafe, after his mother took them all to dinner in the Zona Colonial and the waiters kept looking at their party askance (Watch out, Mom, Lola said, they probably think you're Haitian - La unica haitiana aqui eres tu, mi amor, she retorted), after a skeletal vieja grabbed both his hands and begged him for a penny, after his sister had said, You think that's bad, you should see the bateys, after he'd spent a day in Bani (the camp where La Inca had been raised) and he'd taken a dump in a latrine and wiped his ass with a corn cob - now that's entertainment, he wrote in his journal - after he'd gotten somewhat used to the surreal whirligig that was life in La Capital - the guaguas, the cops, the mind-boggling poverty, the Dunkin' Donuts, the beggars, the Haitians selling roasted peanuts at the intersections, the mind-boggling poverty, the asshole tourists hogging up all the beaches, the Xica de Silva novelas where homegirl got naked every five seconds that Lola and his female cousins were cracked on, the afternoon walks on the Conde, the mind-boggling poverty, the snarl of streets and rusting zinc shacks that were the barrios populares, the masses of niggers he waded through every day who ran him over if he stood still, the skinny watchmen standing in front of stores with their brokedown shotguns, the music, the raunchy jokes heard on the streets, the mind-boggling poverty, being piledrived into the corner of a concho by the combined weight of four other customers, the music, the new tunnels driving down into the bauxite earth [...]”
Junot Díaz, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao

Jeffrey D. Sachs
“They did not understand that by liberalizing imports, the government was also promoting exports.”
Jeffrey D. Sachs

“The economic base of a nation, is the foundation of the it's secrets.”
Auliq Ice

“Perhaps more surprising, even the rich in developing countries also lag. For example, in Indonesia, the richest quintile has scores around 450--less than the 500 for the poorest quintile in Korea or the same as the poorest quintile in UK. So in poor countries, the richest are still getting a mediocre education, and the poor cannot be said to be getting any education at all.”
Lant Pritchett, The Rebirth of Education: Schooling Ain't Learning

Jeffrey D. Sachs
“sweatshops are the first rung on the ladder out of extreme poverty”
Jeffrey D. Sachs, The End of Poverty

Jeffrey D. Sachs
“Knowing that an economy is in decline is not enough. We must know why the economy is failing to achieve economic growth if we are to take steps to establish or reestablish it.”
Jeffrey D. Sachs, The End of Poverty

Abhijit Naskar
“Even a great philosophical idea when mixed with mysticism, turns into a dangerous weapon that becomes an impediment in the path of progress of developing communities.”
Abhijit Naskar, I Am The Thread: My Mission

Amit Kalantri
“A developed nation is also an expensive nation.”
Amit Kalantri, Wealth of Words