The Weekly Sneak: Bare Naked Lady, Almost.

Using the benefit of experience, cashing in on our cultural practice of revering mother-figures and employing the Tanzanian gift of the gab, Ananilea Nkya managed to tongue-tie some big tough policemen by threatening to bare her breasts at them. Well, she didn't put it quite like that but she did say that if they were going to search her she would strip down and get nekkid right there in public to make their job easier. Since this was a good-cop-bad-cop routine, her colleague Helen Kijo-Bisimba "cajoled" her out of it, telling her to be reasonable. Listening to the recording of the encounter on radio, I couldn't stop laughing.

Weapons of the weak can be so terribly effective. The Righteous African Boob-Flash is one of the most feared weapons in a Bantu woman's arsenal, one against which there is no known defense. To be the cause of a mother-figure baring herself at you is to implicitly insult your own mother and all mothers by gazing upon her nakedness and despair. It calls into question your manhood, your Utu, your ability to function in polite society. Basically, it makes you a creep of the creepiest order. The policemen could hardly contain the panic in their voices as Ms. Nyka verbally routed them, escalating to drive home the humiliation of their actions in trying to arrest her. I wasn't the only one who found this amusing, clearly, seeing as the radio stations have been playing the recorded arguments over, and over, and over again... :)

And so ended the doctors' strike and the mini-protest that could. Yes, activists were arrested. They knew what they were doing. They were released on bail. We're all happy that Mizengo Pinda did his Pinda thing and talked the doctors off the ledge. With all these developments, perhaps the article coming to an East African near you is no longer as fresh as it was on the day I sent it. I am glad.

"Anyone watching that evening's news could pick up on the complicity of the policemen and women who were supposedly breaking up what was clearly an illegal gathering. It took all of one hour and involved handwritten signs, a few chants and the obligatory screaming into journalists' microphones, and that was it. Those watching that night's news broadcasts would also have picked up the strong whiff of desperation with which Prime Minister Pinda was “inviting” all doctors and medical staff for a meeting at Muhimbili National Hospital for a sit-down at 9:00 am sharp the following morning."

While we celebrate this small victory, I want to keep in mind those who lost loved ones and those who suffered untold pain due to the doctor's strike. Someone always pays the price.

The King's Diary: Allowances Rock.

Dear Me:

With great bemusement do I follow the debate about allowances in Parliament. So much ado about nothing!

Widespread reliance on allowances is a cornerstone of the TKP’s rule. The ability to hand out allowances at will creates loyalty. Lower cadres are motivated to follow their bosses in the expectation of being ‘rewarded’ with the opportunity to attend a lucrative workshop. Bosses, in turn, are loyal to their superiors for fear of losing attractive benefits associated with foreign trips and positions on the boards of parastatals or high level working groups. Allowances thus create obedience and allow dissent to be easily spotted and punished.

The downside of the TKPs reliance on allowances is that a culture has emerged where work evolves around creating opportunities for yet another workshop, training or trip. Delivering services has become of secondary concern. Loyalty clearly comes at a price. A price the TKP is happy to pay by the way.

The culture of allowances is so widespread that these days even university students demand allowances to ‘sit’ for lectures. The benefits are so lucrative that civil society –those who constantly moan and groan about the TKP, remain silent on this issue. They prefer to benefit from its spoils rather than to address it.

The power of allowances in forging loyalty to the TKP is well illustrated by the inability of opposition MPs to make any real progress on the issue. They make a lot of noise, certainly, but that is about it. This is what makes the current debate so amusing. Only one extravert youngster has dared to state publicly that he prefers not receive the allowances due to him since he is already paid! No other person has joined him. No MP, no journalist and no NGO employee!

Another great thing about allowances is that most expenses are covered by our foreign friends: the donors. In their mistaken belief that services are not delivered because our civil servants lack ‘capacity’ they organize a never-ending stream of workshops and training events. And in their zeal to show ‘results’ they pay civil servants to attend, so that their events are well visited. In this way service delivery continuous to be undermined creating even more need for ‘capacity building’. I love it. It allows the TKP stays in power while spending huge amounts of other people’s money.

The King's Diary: Dubious Spending

Dear Me

Last week I considered using public rankings of performance to motivate civil servants. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. There is quite some information available that could be used for this. Moreover, if I go about it smartly it could restore the TKP’s legitimacy and help deliver better services to thepeople.

The other day I got a ranking with amounts in outstanding audit queries by district, derived from information of the Auditor General. It shows how district officials manage taxpayers’ money. Out of 134 districts there are only five without any dubious spending: Chato, Kilolo, Songea MC, Iringa MC and Njombe. All others spent public money in ways that are unacceptable to the Kingdom’s supreme audit institution! Some managed to misspent as much as Kingdom Shillings 8,000,000,000.

(click to interact with the PNG)

It seems a good idea to honor the officers who have done well, maybe by giving them a promotion and allowing them to manage even larger budgets. In particular those in Njombe deserve credit. They have not had audit queries for years! There are also a few districts that managed to improve their financial management considerably recently: they cleared large amounts in outstanding queries. Especially officials in Iramba, Mpwapwa and Dodoma MC deserve to be praised for this.

On the other hand authorities in Kilwa, Same and Ukerewe do an extremely poor job. Each of them generated at least 6,000,000,000 Kingdom Shillings in dubious spending last year. These people need an investigation by the Kingdom’s Anti-Corruption Bureau; if I decide not to fire them right away!

Hmmm … this ranking could indeed work for me. Let me call a few journalists and television stations and organize a nice ceremony for the good performers.

Talking trash.

The household rubbish has been sitting at the corner of our gate since Monday morning... just like everyone else on the street. Lyoto and Company Ltd, who hold the contract for garbage collection in our area, are nowhere to be sniffed. In this heat, things are going to get very ugly in the neighborhood if someone doesn't come by soon.

You see, last November, Lyoto and Co. sent us a nice letter informing us that the Regional Government of Dar es Salaam has shut down the Kigogo waste disposal site because it is full. Instead, trash will have to be taken to the new Pugu Kinyamwezi site, which is roughly a 100 kilometer round trip for the garbage trucks. In the fine tradition of passing on the cost to the consumer, Lyoto and Co. were very sad to inform us that we would be paying TShs 10,000 a month for their services instead of the TShs 4000 we had been accustomed to. Furthermore, instead of collecting three times a week, they would be collecting one day a week.

In the sweltering heat of a Dar summer, this had implications, so off we went to buy industrial-strength plastic bags in which our trash could brew over the course of seven days instead of two or three. January was mostly uneventful. In February, things got a little smelly- the truck might come a little late on Monday, but it would come. This week? Not a whiff of them, and it is Tuesday evening. The number on the receipts given out by Lyoto and Co., which is the same one that appears on their letterhead, is a mobile number that no longer exists. What's an urbanite with a sensitive nose to do?

Well, she could go to her local government rep. at the ten-cell level (who she has never met before) and ask him to handle it. And maybe he would, because doubtless his trash is out there brewing in the sun too. Or she could, to save time, merrily skip the somewhat hazy chain of command and take her chances with the Municipal Offices of Kinondoni.

The lovely lady on the other end of the Kinondoni Municipal Office general landline (which works, by the way) listened to me all the way through to the end of my story, and promptly gave me the mobile number of their Ofisa Usafishaji. He's the guy who oversees the waste collection contractors. This nice gentleman listened politely to my plea for a number for Lyoto and Co. He was candid- he has the same number as I do, the Tigo one- but he promised to get back to me as soon as soon as he has any information. By text message, even, if necessary. It always surprises me how therapeutic it is to have someone take the time to listen to a complaint, even if they can't provide an immediate solution*.

So many of us believe that chasing down some public service using only a telephone and some manners is a foolish waste of time. But I live in Kinondoni Municipality, where Tanesco has been known to pick up calls on its complaints hotline even at 3:00 am*. And this is 2010 when officers have mobile phones, not 1990 when urban waste management was a mythical creature only found in foreign climes. I'm betting that my gamble will pay off a fine dividend in the form of a contact for Lyoto and Co. Ltd. And all this done without disturbing my ten-cell leader from his coma, because that's the kind of considerate person I am.

* I once spent roughly an hour unloading several years' worth of backed up frustration on the guy who picked up one of those late "I have no power!" calls. Turns out I had caught myself a manager. He spent that hour saying "mh-hm" and"I understand" and "I'm so sorry to hear that" and "You're right, we can do better" and "I am so glad when we get detailed customer feedback like this m'am, it makes our jobs so much easier." I still get intermittent power cuts, and the odd sullen Tanesco brush-off on the phone. But because of that guy, I am and will remain for a long time, a major fan of the Mikocheni office.