Weekly Sneak: Taking Peace for Granted

Wasn't the end of this last Bunge session exciting. Seriously, who was expecting that anyone would employ a Motion of No Confidence to push the government off-balance. Our brand of politics has favored more direct forms of confrontation over those offered by the tools of public administration, so this is a step in the right direction.

Of course there was no way, no matter how swiftly the political activists moved on this one, that the Prime Minister was going to go down like that. If CCM hadn't found a reasonable technical loophole to escape this attack, they would have created one. And if all else fails, the President still has overwhelming powers to create law out of thin air by making a declaration. So truly, I don't think there was any particular danger other than hurt feelings and such.

For us regular citizens, politics is interesting because we need the products of improved governance: roads, schools, etc. The tangible stuff. But in order to get that, the crucial role played by long stretches of peace through successive administrations cannot be ignored- after all it is the foundation on which we have been able to build the state in the first place. So as long as we keep substituting legal, symbolic, democratic and administrative conflict for real physical conflict and civil unrest- we're doing great.

There's been a lot of huff and puff in the media about this being Africa's Century*. The only thing that would give this ideal any real legs, to me, is if this generation achieves its mission of creating a majority of states in which residents can take peace for granted. Kind of the way we take post-colonialism for granted now. And that starts with intelligent, pacific statecraft. This is hardly a new theme with me, but some things bear repeating. Coming to an East African near you:

"So much of our public dialogue these days has become consumed with questions of leadership, fighting corruption and getting the kind of governance we think we want. Most of the time, we frame our collective dissatisfaction with calls for great change, explicit change, explosive change if necessary. I wonder if we are all just a bit tired of living in a state of extended anxiety over the financial pinch, and anticipation that things will improve because surely they can't get any worse. But who is to say change will come all at once, and from the expected corners anyways? It would be fantastic if increasingly better governance and sensible politics could sneak up on us one concession at a time."

The Weekly Sneak: Namechecking Trevor Manuel

Alright, so how many of you reading this know what the Bretton Woods Institutions are, why they exist and how they operate? Because I have to confess, if it hadn't been for the news about the World Bank Chief selection process I would have continued to blissfully ignore them as peripheral to my life, hey. But it's a big story, and why not talk about some of the never-mentioned geopolitical, gendered and racially-tinged power dynamics behind some of our most visible international institutions? Coming to an East African near you:

"It does make one consider: two Finance Ministers from countries with experience in poverty and its economics were turned down in favor of a public health expert in HIV and Tuberculosis. Apparently, there is a “silent” agreement whereby Europe gets to head the IMF and America gets the World Bank. Considering this “silent” arrangement is an open secret, I supposed it was only a matter of time before countries most heavily subjected to these organizations' activities got restless about the institutions' governance, transparency and democratic selection processes."

I have heard it being bandied about, the notion that this is Africa's century et cetera. I am adopting an optimistic wait-and-see approach to this, but it doesn't mean I won't stick my oar into discussion of power from time to time. It's not my most politically-correct article, I must admit. Also, I had to find a way to work in Trevor Manuel. Because.

Speaking of getting rudely honest about things, last week's article about Steven Kanumba was a major throw of the dice. It is one thing to throw barbs at politicians however beloved they are, this is a time-honored tradition. It is another thing entirely to "attack" popular Tanzanians. I experienced the same dilemma around the time of Kikombe Cha Babu- bell the cat, or stay quiet and be a "good" Tanzanian? I had no choice in the end, I would have lost the respect of my inner activist if I hadn't said anything in defense of Lulu, Kanumba's underage "friend" and alleged murderer. Turns out this generated more responses than any article has in months. Peace.

The Weekly Sneak: What Does A Nationalist Wear

It has been a bit heavy weather lately and I thought it would be nice to take a break from the sky-is-falling sensation that the news has been giving me lately. So I tackled one of my favorite subjects, one that simply does not get enough attention: political fashion. Coming to The East African in a couple of days:

"Word in the backrooms of the various tailor emporiums of the city is that the real jackpot for design houses is to be able to reinterpret this basic costuming for big CCM meetings, campaigns, and spouses of prominent politicians. Anyone paying attention to the visual reporting on these events and people will have picked up on it. Given the restricted palette of green, gold and black and the requirement that whatever happens a tie cannot be part of the outfit, it is amazing what designers have been able to come up with. Especially considering the color green can be quite difficult for African complexions. More impressive still is the skill of the tailors involved: the socialist suit is very unkind to pot-bellies. Yet as waistlines have expanded one administration after the other, political dandies have managed to keep looking sleek rather than sausage-like in uniform."

The Weekly Sneak: Resolutions

Hello! The blog is still alive in case you have checked in and wondered about the scarcity of posts. It occurred to me sometime during a very busy last quarter that in fact blogging is a vacation-free committment. So I took some down time and have consistently deleted every blogpost drafted within the past week and a half. But it's time to get back in the saddle. It's been a while since I offered a peak of what's going to appear in The East African, so here goes:

... every time someone is interviewed on television or on radio for their opinion, they should be fined if they cite the government as being both the root cause of and the potential solution to any problem without providing alternatives. Double fines should apply if the person being interviewed is a civil servant. Immediate dismissal, egging and a public shaving of the head should apply to all elected politicians who blame the government for anything at all. However, perhaps prizes should be awarded for the greatest leaps of blind faith, such as believing that the Government of Tanzania has the capacity to predict let alone control the weather for the benefit of its people.

New Year's Resolutions are one of my favorite things, mostly for the entertainment factor that comes with knowing they are almost impossible to keep. Good luck with yours.

The Weekly Sneak: A History That Lives

So, this is a big week in terms of submissions. How does a columnist come up with something reasonable to say on the occasion of the 50th Independence Day celebrations? I tried to find a way to talk about nationalism, though I think that in the end the execution was a little clumsy. Then the Men In Nairobi dropped me a little email last night- past deadline- to inquire if I would like to pop out a last-minute piece with a higher word count. That's when I knew that all my past blown deadlines and experience with racing the clock were preparation for moments such as these: the eleventh hour essay 0n demand.

I actually have no idea if the article is good enough to be printed or not, the Powers That Be don't divulge that kind of information but I am hopeful. With more legroom to work around a topic, I decided to try and bring the past-present-future perspective of Tanzania to life through some light personal history:

"... having spent as much time as I could this year talking to my elders from Generation Independence I have come to embrace the notion that nationalism is a very personal experience. A sense of nationalism is often inseparable from a person's history. With a surname that regularly encourages complete strangers and immigration officers to ask me if I come from Nigeria or Japan or if perhaps I am Jewish, this has been an issue that I have thought about. The answer to all of the above is a resounding No. Anyways, in order to answer the question of why it is important to celebrate fifty years of independence, sometimes it is necessary to start by answering the 'who are you' question."

I was a very poor student of history in school because I couldn't be bothered with anything non-African or that wasn't about ancient civilizations. Memorizing wars, dates and murdered European monarchs was particularly painful. It wasn't until I discovered biographies that history became interesting: it was alive, tangible, real and relatable. I don't doubt that The East African's special on Tanganyika's 50th will be full of sober, expert commentary and perhaps a little Tanzanian machismo, so I thought I'd bring things down to the grassroots. Since I don't believe in marching in lockstep or getting too corporate about what nationalism or Tanzania or even Independence means for Tanzanians, I offered a subjective piece. I hope it works.

And seriously, that joke about the Yakuza? Spare. Me. I haven't found it funny since 1995.

National Service!

So apparently National Service will be coming back anytime now. Anytime. So while we wait the obligatory decade for this plan to come to fruition, I thought I would play around a bit with the idea. I actually love national service and think it is a shame that it was abolished. I would have gone for it, and if it is revived I might just take a gap year to get fit and cruise around the countryside if they let non-youth volunteers in.

Dar traffic is becoming horrendous. The city is full of young people whose idea of democracy is to complain, agitate for an armed revolt and then suggest that we import Kagame to run us like a boarding school. There is no reasoning with this mix of desperation, misinformation and youthful hubris. Our politicians have lied to us about how much personal agency we have to change our society WITHOUT them. So yes: National Service gets my vote. Why not direct all that frustrated ambition and drive somewhere interesting. Coming to an East African near you:

"National Service is a good idea for one primary reason: it could be the institution that gives Tanzanian youth practical skills as well as that sense of achievement and success that comes from hard, constructive work. Let's face it, the education system is nowhere close to offering them that opportunity. In theory, schools are meritocracies: you play the game right and do well, you get rewarded. You play the game poorly, you get penalized with bad grades and dubious employment prospects. In reality, the Tanzanian public education system is a finely honed machine that is designed to destroy all belief in the relationships between hard work, success and fair play. Too often graduates are cast out into the wilderness of adult life with partial skills, and the dawning horror that these may not be enough to conquer their world."

Besides, I continue to be disenchanted with the culture of complaint so... since 'tis the season and merry and all that, I plan to spend the rest of the year being cheerful online if it kills me. Grinches, you have been warned: offline sessions please for offloading of misanthropic feelings. Sixteen days to Independence and counting...

Only So Much Hypocrisy, Please.

I've been sitting on a piece about governance seen from the flip side. It wasn't going anywhere for months until fellow writer Peter Muthamia- you read him in The Citizen amongst other places- suggested that I investigate why Tanzanians have so much pent up anger towards the government. That did the trick: I was inspired again. Perhaps not in the way that I suspect Peter meant, but inspired nonetheless.

Why indeed to Tanzanians have so much pent up anger towards the government? Are we really that divisible from our government to begin with? I am obsessing about citizenship and agency more and more over time. I'm thinking less and less about individuals and political personalities. I have become convinced that root of the problem lies elsewhere... so next week in the East African:

"Take the corruption issue for example. The reason we have been circling the drain on the corruption issue is that as a society we happen to endorse it. In Dar es Salaam choosing not to pay bribes to lubricate the gears of life is as radical a lifestyle choice as being a vegan non-drinker. Most of us can't quite muster the moral strength for this and have paid a little something to somebody somewhere to get the land, the car, the license, the tender, the client, the mailing list, the deal, the interview, the job, you name it. What's even worse is that far too many of us have also encouraged our politicians to steal bigger and better so that they can redistribute their wealth to us. We solicit them for church fundraisers and school fees for the orphans, for connections and wedding contributions, for “hela ya soda” and a sackful of rice all the while pretending not to know where the money might be coming from"

We Live In a Post-Jobsian World Now...

I am still processing what I want to say about Steve Jobs, who passed away far too young and far too soon. I might as well out myself as a long-term Apple fan, and do feel free to tease me about it. As it happens, I wanted this week's article to be topical about the internets and stuff because I'm in the middle- literally, the middle- of a course on social media for social change. Topical, yeah. But I had to shoe-horn Steve in because I ran out of wordcount making the case for a computer in every home. It might be ambitious and unrealistic, but so was universal suffrage at one point in time. Coming soon to an East African near you:

"And now we live in a post-Jobsian world. Computers as they work these days collapse the walls between work and play, and increasingly through social media they are bridging the gap between the personal and the public. With the internet becoming increasingly accessible, physical distance is becoming negligible. Information in the blink of an eye, saving the time that it used to take to go to a library or a bookshop or an expert. The planet has witnessed the emergence of the communal human superbrain, and it lives online."

I hoped that the term "post-Jobsian world" might be my neologism, but Google tells me otherwise. I suppose it was too obvious a term not to be coined. Anyways, the point of the article is that projections of a Tanzanian future seem a bit short-term and conservative to me, recycling through the same problems that face us now. Have we run out of imagination, or are we afraid to dare? Have we lost our mojo? I hope not. While we build schools and roads and lay down water pipes, we should be dreaming very big dreams about things like eco-friendly public transport systems in urban centers, and e-learning, and boosting our intellectual productivity...

Wangari Maathai.

One routine method of female 'empowerment' involves exposing impressionable young ladies to women who have achieved something admirable. This can be a bit of a hit-and-miss tactic: if the person in question is too awe-inspiring and unreachable, the young ladies might not internalize the idea that they too can be just like her. And if the person is unpalatable, she might just put them off forever. I can confess to a rather unfortunate experience of Vandana Shiva that killed my budding romance with ecofeminism right dead... and colored my perception of Dr. Maathai for the longest.

Until my twin bought me her memoir, in hardcover. No choice but to read it. Having read it, no choice but to admire her. Admiring her, no choice but to try and understand why she was exceptional, to me. And upon her death, no choice but to try and pay what homage I can to this woman.

Pacifism is a rather uncool political choice and becoming uncooler with every passing day. I admit that I struggle with it myself , when people quote Fanon at me as if an African woman needs anyone to tell her what disempowerment feels like. But here's the secret: on my bookshelf I keep Wangari on the same bookshelf as Franz. I like to think that they balance each other out, as it were, and she helps me contain his chaotic destructiveness. I also keep her there to remind me to recognize, respect and embrace "alternative" (read: proudly effeminate) practices of power in superb leaders of all genders:

"Dr. Maathai chose to champion the environment, or perhaps it was the environment that wisely selected Dr. Wangari Maathai to champion Her. Yet it is in the story of her very human life that her true achievements quietly shine. I can only hope that some of the newly enfranchised Saudi citizens think to pick up a copy of her memoir. It has more than one lesson for anyone intent on exploring some of the power that democratic mechanisms can offer to a woman facing the patriarchal state. It is certainly a good read for those interested in the slightly gritty workman details of how one might convert a burning passion into something bigger than themselves. Ultimately we could do with more leaders who take their cue from this fierce and accomplished Kenyan, more revolutionaries who make the commitment to build, nurture and create."

There are a number of conventions for eulogizing someone much admired, but the highest tributes have always, to me, stemmed from warm traditions that celebrate life. So borrowing from the fine custom of praise-song, in acknowledgement that it is not nearly good enough, I make my offering to the memory of Dr. Maathai: Wangari Maathai, The She-Elephant who led her Herd to Water, The Matriarch who was a Man amongst Men, The Fighter who never stayed down, The Commander who led from the front, The Nurturer who loved Life, The Faithful Daughter of Kenyan Soil, She of the Many Names, She is no more. Long live Wangari Maathai. Long live Wangari Maathai. Long live Wangari Maathai.

The Zanzibar Ferry Accident.

One of my biggest challenges in media work is nurturing an ability to filter noise and information, and sift down to nuggets of truth... or at least truthiness. Information overload is not a new notion, people have been talking for a few years now about how technology affects our lives.

But an analysts' job is to whittle things down to the marrow, scrape away the make-up from the face of the story, massage deep into the tissues of a situation. And timing is everything. I haven't been able to distill much that I am confident about with the Zanzibar boat capsize from social media, so I maintained radio silence. However, this week in The East African I do want to state categorically that somehow, we are all involved in this.

"There are a hundred choices to be made in a day and living in a developing country means embracing the fact that creative “solutions” to everyday problems are necessary. And we have to admit that we are allergic to regulation for all kinds of reasons, most of them good. There isn't a regulatory authority in Tanzania that has managed to impress us with its strength of character, nor its diligence, and we are well aware that greasing the right palms makes regulation more of an ideal than a reality in our society. So we conduct business our own way, taking chances."

While I don't doubt that there are people who are directly accountable, I have said before and will say again that crucifying one or two officials is not particularly helpful in the long run. It is part of our performance politics. What is far more important to me is: what have we learned here that will cause us to behave better next time. I worry that the answer might be: nothing.

And while it is well and good to shrug fatalistically and argue that we don't have much control over our lives simply because we are "poor," I simply can't do it. Tanzanian lives should be valued. And they should be valued by us. We need to stop with the chakachua kila kitu business model.

Reality Check on the EA Political Federation

...Speaking of our regional rag, the East African, I never expected to see an article like this appear. I am glad that at least the bureaucrats in Arusha, and the pundits, are not completely impervious to the will of the people. Maybe the nextgen of EA residents will have it together long enough to federate, but in truth a reading of post-colonial African history does show that we've got a ways to go before this makes any kind of sense.

The Weekly Sneak: Elephants, Lemonade and Arm Chair Economics

The East African's deadline regularly sneaks up on me unannounced so that it can breathe down my neck, which can be a good thing. I am a last-minute thinker, sometimes my most creative or interesting writing comes from the combination of fear and desperation that a looming deadline inspires. And since I don't want to give The Men In Nairobi any reason to call me in for a "friendly little chat" about delivering on time...

This week's article was written on the fly, and in reaction to the fact that one or two of you have subjected me to that Tanzanian question/command thing. You know, the one where you ask a negative question: "I am surprised to see that you haven't written anything about the fuel crisis..." when what you really mean is "Get off your big African heritage, slacker, while this topic is still relevant." Okay, here goes:

"Is there a dirtier business in the world than that of petroleum? As an end consumer, I am always amazed by the reasons fuel retailers come up with not to ever reflect a drop in the price of petrol at the pump. The most common one is that they have bought the fuel at high prices and so must keep selling the more expensive stock at high prices so as to recoup their costs at the very least. Add in there the vagaries of the world market and currency exchange rate shenanigans amongst other sophisticated tools of modern capitalism, and retailers can effectively confuse the argument in their favor. It seems that no matter what else is going on, fuel prices will always increase, taxi drivers will always have a reason to extort higher fares and public transportation operators can also squeeze a few more vijisenti from the citizens. I am not sure, but I think this is the kind of thing that economists refer to as “growth.”

So this ka-fuel crisis? Sijui. I am not picking any sides except mine, as an exasperated citizen. The fuel shortage is practically over and by the time the article prints it will be yesterday's news. It has been an interesting political case study, though, hasn't it? Happy motoring.

The Weekly Sneak: Powered by Estrogen.

Due to an unexpected series of meetings and events, my feminist affront has just been shocked back to life again. I had been sitting on a piece about Voice for a long time, and I guess it was time for it to finish gestating and come out already. One of the reasons I tend to stay away from the F-word on the column is that it doesn't lend itself easily to humor. Feminists, like Ujamaa Socialists, are tediously serious about their causes and we just can't make the funny. And the column, it is supposed to bring the funny at least a little bit.

But it has been such a long time since I had a good rant, and I have been a little annoyed because I haven't emptied out the bin where I keep all the trash that casual chauvinism throws my way. In light of the fact that The East African edits my copy*, this week you are getting my two favorite paragraphs in the preview section:

"My President, Jakaya Kikwete, once said that it was his ambition to leave behind a parliament with a larger number of women in it than when he first came into office. Unfortunately we have tried parliamentary affirmative action, and the results are disappointing. Tanganyika turns fifty this year, yet all those decades of Special Seats Members of Parliament have failed to yield sufficient maternity wards in hospitals, prosecutions for rapists and child-molesters, equal pay for equal work... the list of grievances is long. Electricity rationing is tedious, yes, but let me tell you: giving birth on a concrete floor is an entirely different level of inconvenience."

And in conclusion, I have been looking for an excuse to sneak these James Brown lyrics into a 'serious' topic for a long time. What has 1960s Funk got to do with women in Tanzania?

"Feminism is an eight-letter word with a four-letter attitude. It is a cause that is familiar with extended guerrilla warfare in the rough wilderness of inflexible traditions. Social media is the AK47 of the present, at whose point many have demanded better treatment. To quote the King of Funk, James Brown (RIP) “I don't want nobody to give me nothing. Open up the door, and I'll get it myself.” Huh."

*Some writers like to be edited. I am not one of those blessed people. A couple of you regulars have told me that the style and tone of the EA articles is not quite in keeping with the style and tone of the blog. I appreciate the feedback, and I am working on the parts of that discrepancy that I can control.

The Weekly Sneak: Keep it Green

Not that it comes across very strongly, but I have a thing for environmentalism and the green movement and all that tree-hugging stuff*. I am a bit of a provincial actually: Dar es Salaam is the biggest city I have ever lived in in my whole entire life. Mega cities give me the willies actually. I like them the way people like rollercoasters. A couple of rides and it is time to go home. Trouble is that Bongo is trying to become a bit of a modern urban mess. Which makes me sad because if there was one thing that I always relished, it was the feeling that by living in Dar I was getting away with a delicious advantage. Everyone is obsessed with Nairobi, thank goodness, leaving us tourist-free residents to our own devices. It has remained a wonderfully under-appreciated corner of tropical heaven for the longest: hot, humid, torrid, complex, confounding, stagnant, vibrant, dynamic, sarcastic, inscrutable, welcoming, warm, playful... evidently I could go on for a bit, this here love affair has twenty-something years on it.

But of course, change must come. Recent work with some activists was instructive: the practice of urban farming is alive and well. I hope we stick with it, that would go some ways to making up for the visual assault of all those inorganic, mirror-fronted, puce- and violet-tiled, no-car-park having monstrosities that are going up around the city with impunity. Anywho, I wanted to do a combination love-letter, nostalgic commentary and "think green" piece for The East African this week. Here's a bit:

"Now that prosperity is trying to knock on Tanzania’s door- in spite of the fact that all of the lights are off inside- we seem to have found entirely new uses for the open spaces in our lush city. Land grabbing seems to be in Tanzanians’ blood, as anyone will tell you who has legally bought a plot and left it unattended for a month or less. Bars and food establishments are usually the first offensive: it is a rare space that hasn’t at some point been taken over guerrilla-style by a handful of plastic chairs to become the refuge of after-hours folks who prefer to have dinner and catch the evening news away from their domestic arrangement. Such a gentle approach to land-grabbing usually left a little patch for neighborhood kids to play, not to mention a corner for an enterprising sort to hook up an illegal water connection and grow vegetables."

Don't worry, the ranting comes later. One way of getting a bit of a feel for the Dar that rarely shows up in popular consciousness is, of course, to buy the Dar Sketches book :)

*a propos tree-hugging: how is that an insult? Everyone has tried it at some point in their life. Believe me, you ate bugs as a kid and we both know you've hugged a tree or two in your time. Nothing to be ashamed of.

Weekly Sneak: Customize Your State

Every so often I have this recurring discussion: is Tanzania really a democracy or is she not? Reason being, we've had the same party in power since independence in spite of nearly two decades of multi-party rule. I get the premise- a change in party is a good measure of the robustness of a democracy, or its maturity. While I agree that this is not something that will happen in Tanzania anytime soon, that one measure* is no reason to go pretending we don't live in a democracy. It just needs a bit of tweaking. Anyways, this argument never fails to make me indignant. So of course I rushed back to my keyboard and pounded out another take on a familiar theme: polities are quite individualistic entities. You can't prescribe universal measures of democracy or change without looking at the reality of the political structure in question... and in Tanzania, we have a rather unique set of circumstances:

"This is a measure of how good we have it- we think that we can afford our complacency. Tanzanians know that we don’t have to take to the streets in order to effect change. We can and regularly do talk ourselves into it, however incremental it is. Multiparty politics have done us a world of good in the past decade: the political competition in Bunge is starting to weed out the weak, Zanzibar is coming along quietly as an experiment in power-sharing. We need not fear that Jay Kay will do anything ridiculous to try to stay in power indefinitely, like pretending not to know how old he really is. We can afford to anticipate a change in administration, and we can afford to let complaint be our main method of political action. But we shouldn’t end there."

I do find that the positive political articles are not particularly popular on the blog or in print- readers love a good rant, I guess we all have the taste for blood. And the macro-level stuff really tends to make eyes glaze over :) Well, sometimes I feel optimistic and it will be interesting to see if this one sinks or swims in next week's East African.

*Seriously, folks: we're not Europe. We're not America. Deal with it. And the quest for a political party that is not embarrassing to belong to goes on...

The Weekly Sneak: Education

Why not? I like invented traditions and honestly it allows me to look like I'm blogging when really I'm getting two pieces for the price of one. Dodgy, but fun. So here is this week's preview paragraph for next week's East African article:

"Still, the underlying point is a poignant one: what they are really asking is how can they hope to get out into the big bad world and earn a living without poverty rolling over them like a runaway upcountry bus. I do have an answer for those of us who are unemployed by our anorexic formal labor market: your creativity is your labor market advantage. Most of us are going to have to invent our jobs and ride our own brains on the journey from subsistence farming with a hand-hoe, to the bright lights and city smarts of the middle class lifestyle."

The idea came about during a conversation about jobs and youth and what Tanzanians could expect to happen in the next few years when we look at the combined effects of a population boom, a crapulent public education system and a future that rewards intellectual work and innovation rather than labor that can be mechanized. Somewhere along the line we agreed that individual creativity would provide the labour market, so to speak, that young Tanzanians are looking for. My twin then casually told me that there's no way I could present that argument in an article and make it work. And here I am, genetically programmed not to resist a dare...

Also, I wanted to expose an interesting behavior: I'm getting asked for money by strangers. Sigh. Look: I don't believe in hand-outs. Charity for good causes? Yes. Constructive help? Yes. Mentorship? Any time. Collaboration? Sure, as time and inclination permits. Hand-outs just because? Not so much. I hope we're clear on that. If you don't like it, you can always report me to the socialists ;)

And then there was Vodacom or Vodanet or Vodacell or whatever the hell they call themselves these days. When they rebranded this year, their campaign translated the English slogan of "Power to You" to "Kazi ni Kwako" for the local populace. Which doesn't mean remotely the same thing, and has been quietly grating on my nerves for months now. Typically Tanzanian of me, being intolerant of the cultural faux-pas. Their local staff must hate the corporation if they neglected to inform the (obviously clueless) marketing team about this one little thing. In comparison to the ads that Zantel is putting out there, Vodacom is only showing itself to be out of touch with their consumers and frankly uninterested in their customers. You'd think that Big Telecoms would have a clue. Apparently, not these guys.

Sneak Preview, Again

I kind of had fun with the article preview last time, and My Lady of the Anticipating Smiles said she enjoyed it. So here is another sneak preview. Coming next weekend to an East African near you, some more budget talk and a little nostalgia:

"Ten years ago this would have been impossible to imagine: few of us under the previous regimes had a clue about what these parliamentarians of ours did with themselves. They were like exotic birds who migrated to roost in a mythical capital far, far away from Dar called Dodoma several times a year, where they would coo at each other in a language we weren’t likely to understand. The national budget was an even more obscure undertaking than Bunge, and something that we were happy to leave to the ones in charge. After all they supposedly knew exactly what they were doing. That must have been such a fantastic time to be a politician. Sure, you were likely poor but then you commanded respect."

Ah. Those single-party days must have been like some kind of golden past for the old cadres, eh? People bowing and scraping and "Mheshimiwa"-ring you to death everywhere you went. Nothing like these days when uncouth youth say silly things about you on the intertubes and nip at your heels in the newspapers. Damn those liberal democrats!

This Writing Life: How Bloggers Can Cheat

Hello! Sorry about the silence, total inspiration collapse in the past few days. I have a sneak preview for you, as a peace offering. Well, it is only kind of a sneak preview since I reheated some leftovers for The East African in an effort not to blow my deadline. Barely squeaked through. But since I did cross-post between the two platforms, here's a bit of what's coming for budget week:

"Every year during the pre-budget frenzy, the conversation is usually being held far above the civilian’s head. Civil society watchdogs want the government to do this or that particular thing, the donors suspect that something fishy is going on but are prevented by the rules of international relations from saying so directly, and the government is busy performing a very delicate and graceful balancing act to keep everybody happy- especially itself. The Tanzania Revenue Authority is the only institution that cares quite directly about the taxpayer, and that is the one institution that nobody wants anywhere near them."

The idea originally was to do a riff on the famous "death and taxes" statement and then somehow stuff other subjects into the article- donors and their role in our governance structures, what does it mean when civilians are treated as recipients and not really seen as healthy contributors to the national project, civil society's watchdogging, individual agency, and the fact that nobody willingly pays public officials- especially when you know that your government is corrupt...

But, you know, it's only 800 words. I had to get a grip on reality.

Truth be told, I find blogging much easier that columning. Blogging is relaxed, like throwing on a favorite pair of jeans and a crisp white t-shirt. Writing a column, on the other hand, is like constantly panicking about your business formal attire. This week, I caved in and reworked an old blogpost idea for the column, which I suppose is like wearing the white t-shirt under your jacket and pairing sneakers with your pinstripes. I'm sure it'll happen again, when the deadline is breathing down my neck. So that explains the title of the post: this is how a blogger can get away with feeding her column reheated leftovers.

Technically speaking, it is not exactly a cheat. People do it all the time- recycle the same content across various outlets. It has it's uses, but in principle I'm not a fan since I am obsessed by the idea of Original Content. One of the writers whom I admire tremendously offers OC across a mind-boggling number of platforms. And if I ever grow up, I want to be just like that.