Penneys and human rights - what the campaigns don't tell you

There is a small and highly effective Irish NGO called Frontline Human Rights Defenders: it works with people around the world who fight in one way or another for human rights.

Human rights activists are often bolshy types, argumentative and stubborn. But it's a big wobbly title, and encompasses lots of people. The Corrib gas protesters are human rights defenders and so are Niall Crowley and Mary Robinson. Crusties, technocrats and lawyers: could be just about anybody. My work involves supporting numerous people around the world who found themselves at the Frontline Dublin Platform this year. It was a good opportunity to show colleagues and friends around Dublin.

Here's where Penneys comes in. There was a good article in the Irish Times recently about the controversy that has surrounded the dirt cheap prices charged by Penneys. The reasonable assumption is that if a dress costs 12 euro, the chances are that the people who made it didn't see much money; and that the conditions they work in aren't great either.

Penneys made a killing this weekend, out of human rights activists from Africa, Asia, Eastern Europe and Latin America. I brought Lucia from Bolivia there, along with Berta from Honduras. I can't begin to express what these two women showed me or told me about their lives - which is, I suppose, why I'm writing about taking them to Penneys instead. In the past year, 3 attempts have been made on Berta's life. I sat humbled over breakfast as they talked about the exhaustion they feel at never being heard, never believed; how their governments, the media, down to their own communities set out to discredit them and undermine their stories. Lucia comes from Pando in Bolivia: she lost her husband because she agreed to go to La Paz to tell the full story about the massacre that occured there on the 11th of September 2008.

So: two women, typical human rights defenders. Angry, self-righteous, demanding; but also warm and funny. They both needed gifts for their daughters. We spent one entire hour in Penneys on O'Connell St. I mainly hovered outside the changing room, keeping an eye out for Berta (no, I don't think that really suits you - is there one in pink?) while intervening on Lucia's behalf with the understandably cranky changing room assistant (she just wants to change the size 8 for a 10: I promise this will be the last time. Sorry). Neither of them speaks a syllable of English. Worse: they don't speak a syllable of sign language either. That's why they have me.

I pointed out the signs all over the walls that explain how Penneys is committed to the highest labour rights standards throughout its supply chain. We discussed how this probably means that labour rights standards are atrocious in supply factories. But it's very hard to argue with 3 bikinis for 10 euro. They were beside themselves.

It never fails, that's the strange thing. It's one of those unmentioned things about working in international development or human rights. You bring people to Ireland from the most awful places, who have experience the most awful things, to tell their stories and maybe to influence somebody in Ireland who has power. I spent a wonderful Saturday with them both, we went to the National Gallery and wandered through Trinity. But the unquestionable highlight - the one can't miss moment of every trip I escort around Dublin - is the visit to Penneys.

Should I feel morally compromised?