Tanzanian Exceptionalism?

This is an idea that has been rolling around my head for a while. And it's probably going to take a bit of doing to explain. But here's a start:

Emergent Democracy.* It's a concept I have only stumbled upon recently after thinking that the idea of emergence shouldn't belong to economics alone (emergent market). Yeah, I know. I move slow. Now, onto the good stuff:

-"action of many individual participants"

- "complex and unpredictable results"

- "efficiency beyond the comprehension of any individual participant"

- and my favorite bit: "Supporters of the idea point to instances in which bloggers have brought about political change by posting about issues that mainstream media had not paid much attention to..."

Now: comparative political analysis has it's uses but I have felt for years that Africa is underserved in this area by her many polities, ethno-political complexity, geographic variety and impenetrability, structural racism, ignorance fuelled by spotty documentation, and general misunderstoodness. None of which are new complaints amongst Africanist scholars, I'm just cribbing from those who've gone before and standing on the shoulders of giants.

This mash-up of convoluted thinking is trying to address how strange comparisons happen: the Kenya/Tanzania pairing for example. I think it makes more sense to do a Tanzania/South Africa pairing in the post-colonial context if one counts South Africa's independence as having happened in 1994. Which is when the emergent market concept kicks in nicely. Kenya/Tanzania? What, because of geographic proximity? That's just lazy. Yes, even if we're going all EAC. It's still lazy.

But that's just one layer. Evidently there is a technological/communications component: it seems that social media is an integral factor of emergent democracy as a concept. Not to mention the way it introduces/acknowledges complexity by embracing the idea of multiple actors outside of the traditional roles (legislator, executive, judge) without devolving the discussion to something as trite as single-issue lobbying.

And so it makes sense in my head to think of Tanzania as one of the emergent democracies on the continent: diverse population, diverse agendas, complex interrelations. Democracy at work however compromised it may appear to an external observer (the system does in fact self-correct for balance. or peace. and no, you don't get to choose how.). Modernist habits- the adoption of IT technologies, leap-frogging stuff like a cumbersome landlines parastatal telephone system. Entrepreneurial spirit and political savvy. These are just a few of the significant positives that Tanzania could continue to build upon.

Which means, naturally, that there are significant negatives threatening to drag us down too. Beginning with oversimplification: our decades-long public-education mess is not serving us well. I have heard keen-minded colleagues in the field of political analysis say things that are shockingly dubious about our history. And then cling to antiquated notions against all evidence of research, articles and voluble argumentation. That's messed up. If idealism and conservatism constantly trump evidence and dynamic thinking we're gonna tie ourselves up in knots.

Put down the verbal gun. I'll be the first to admit: I had to leave the country to learn the country, if you know what I mean. Yeah. Try buying a well-researched, totally dependable collection of books on Tanzanian history and let me know how that went for you, bongolander. Being kept uninformed about the gritty bits of our contemporary history is a part of the social contract that I think we should push to renegotiate in a global kind of sense.

But that's just one layer. There's the real issue of haves and have-nots: what's our mechanism for handling economic stratification? America advances the idea of universal opportunity: if you just work hard enough you too shall be a millionaire. Now, it's a nice little bedtime story and we all know it doesn't quite work out that simply. Still, as a national ethos... it's pretty positive. Constructive. Non-partisan. It's got non-Americans skipping on planes to go find their streets of gold in a country that isn't nearly as kind to immigrants as it's PR campaign suggests.

The Tanzanian social contract is sort of libertarian with heavy doses of social liberalism. Social stratification is a lived reality for Tanzanians of all walks of life, as economic enclaving is almost impossible here. Perhaps one major factor, often overlooked, is the fact that the state owns land in Tanzania and only leases it to citizens for prescribed periods of time. Which means that this business of going Happy Valley and shooting trespassers is not done with impunity here. All to say, it can be hard to be entirely untouchable here as some folks from the previous government may have found out to their surprise. I like it that way- keeps us honest, lean and mean.

Tuesday 23rd November: I completely forgot to mention a major factor in the social contract! Corruption. We point our fingers upwards and knock our politicians about for stealing public funds- and they deserve it. However, we also don't talk about the fact that living in Tanzania these days means hustling and you can bet your bottom shilling that most every adult has at one point or another deliberately initiated or engaged in corrupt practices for their own gain. So it's structural. I don't really know how this fits in with the emergent democracy framework, or if it does. Might be more of a cultural issue- one man's nepotism is another man's family duty.

Another layer: emergent democracies are not all that common. Not really. It takes a certain fluidity, technophilia, mental flexibility and creativity to live and thrive as an emergent democracy. I think that Tanzania, in her post-colonial history, has proved that she's got what it takes to adapt to the various situations thrown up by a rapidly changing, ever-competitive world. Doubt me? Look at how we handle our elections. It might not be perfect, but it's a far cry from Kenya (eish), Uganda (puh-leeze), Burundi (hm?), Rwanda (democracy? heh.), Congo (basketcase), Zambia (mh.), Malawi (mh.), and Mozambique (meh. maybe).

Thing is, it's not about superiority or inferiority. Here's how Asia has always been a touch more privileged than Africa as a developing continent. See, Japanese folks don't get subjected to anxiety dreams over what Indians are doing. Because no one is confused about whether Asia is a country or a continent. Both polities, both cultures are respected in their individual right as they work the nation-state model. Africa? Not so much. Why is it that on this most diverse of continents we don't embrace the fundamental idea of real diversity? With functionality as the only real measure of success? Sure, there are fifty-plus polities. What's wrong with the idea that they are all exceptional, and worthy of study in their own right?

I think that only after this level of respect for individual polities has run it's course will it make sense to talk about a pan-African identity and accept the demands of massification/ manufactured collectivization. Europe still won't get it together, and it's taken them how many millenia? Enough said. Gonna end here for this foray and see what turns up in the comments section :) Be gentle. Heh.

*Wikipedia founder Jimmy Wales is tugging my heartstrings for money. I would give him some if I wasn't perpetually embroiled in a fight with my bankers over the quality of their retail services. Still, what a fantastic resource is Wiki? Sigh.

The Elephant in the Room...an update.

I wrote about homosexuality in the V-day post because we don't talk about it publicly here in Bongo, let alone voice our support of the gay and lesbian community, and it seemed an opportune time to do so. The intention was to bust the myth that it is all homophobia and 'backwardness' in our African communities, and to convey the sense that there is a core of tolerance that should be fought for and expanded.

It was during this self-same weekend that the minions of evil in Mombasa got the upper hand over reason and human rights. Starting on Thursday and going on through the weekend, several people have been assaulted and arrested for 'being gay' while local religious leaders fan the flames of bigotry. I have read competing eye-witness reports on the events in Mombasa, and what exactly triggered the attacks- some say a wedding, others say the wedding was just a rumor. Beneath the pretexts, it looks as though this a concerted effort involving the religious zealots, the police and some members of the local community. The core issue remains though, that of intolerance, and at this particular moment Mombasa is the warfront. Big up to GALCK and allies- may you win this fight.

And on that Africanist tip: I can't watch Invictus. Can you?

One of my favorite actor/directors on the face of the planet was on TV today promoting his latest movie. I can't get enough of Clint Eastwood's male-o-dramas full of taciturn guys and and conclusions painted in the color of devastation. Great stuff. Unfortunately for me, though, I can't bring myself to watch Invictus.

It is really challenging for me to willingly go for a Big Hollywood depiction of Africans. I could tell you all about it... but to cut a long story short, it involves a gazillion movies during undergrad for a senior project on depictions of Africans in hollywood from the 1930s to the Ohs. I learned a lot. I am still in recovery.

Not all the depictions are cretinous, but the majority are, all the way through to the present. Hotel Rwanda was execrable in terms of casting (yes, we can tell when the accent is utterly wrong), The Constant Gardner was a wee bit better, Last King of Scotland was palatable in spite of some interesting choices (yes, we can tell when the accent is utterly wrong). Invictus? I hope never to find out for sure. It contains the incredible, once-in-a-lifetime trifecta of the real Madiba in the background, the real Morgan Freeman in the foreground, and the real Clint Eastwood in the director's chair.

I cannot bear for it to be imperfect. And it is! I caught a clip of Morgan's Madiba sitting opposite a Hollywood-sized Matt Damon playing Francois Pienaar (...seriously?). They were having a conversation. Matt had the gaze and the accent right- he had an easier job than Morgan because frankly the Afrikaner cant is way too broad not to be adopted with a little effort. Morgan, however...ah. Madiba is so distinctive in his enunciation, in his cadence and timber. Its nearly impossible to get right, like Louis Armstrong's scatting. Just wasn't hitting it.

Nelson Mandela was an indescribable part of my teenage life, distantly and just the once in person. We're not all lucky enough to meet men who are making incredible, positive history. I cannot pretend to be in the least bit rational about what I think of Nelson Mandela. He's so terribly real, and fragile now, and precious. He is a unique man who, years ago, twinkled with adolescent glee when he saw a group of kids he could hang out with for five minutes before he gave a speech. Yup, he did, blond bodyguards in tow.

We've all got to accept our limitations, and this is one of mine. Some people are sacred. So sorry Morgan, Clint. I'll catch you guys next time, yah?

Is That My Elephant in The Room? The big fat Valentine's weekend rant

Yeah, yeah, Valentine's Day: big and fat and pink and lurking in a tutu in the corner of the room offering Ferrer Rocher truffles alongside a single red rose. A couple of years ago, some ladies of my acquaintance (Sisterhood of Men, woohoo!) used to celebrate the other kind of V-Day: the local production of Eve Ensler's Vagina Monologues. The last one I attended was very, very good- it was presented as a Kitchen Party celebration complete with TMI advice given to the young bride. Let me tell you- there are talented actors in Bongo and no, they don't seem to be appearing on Africa Magic. If anyone is hosting or knows about a V-day event this year, speak up! Because folks, this is a project that is worth its weight in Hallmark cards.

So, back to celebrating love, and the freedom to love. I was wandering through The Black Snob and having a good time right up until I came across her post about violence against homosexuals in two African countries. This, good people, is what I call a double-edged sword. Its complicated. On the one hand, I understand and appreciate her desire to lend her voice and support to Ugandans and South Africans who are experiencing horrible social violence due to homophobia. On the other hand, there is something so Heart of Darkness about the tone and the approach- there go those Africans again, human rights recidivists that they are:

"The fact is, in the face of death and rape, gays and lesbians in Africa are still loving each other. DEATH and RAPE. They are still coming out to their families and friends. In the face of discrimination, harassment, murder and violence, they are still declaring "I'm here! I exist! I am human! I have a right to be loved and love whom I please!"

Indeed. It has been a while since I got on my Things Africans Don't Do soapbox, so let me wield it here: Ms. Belton, please consider the weight of your choice of words. They might encourage your readers to believe that there are more Museveni-following, lesbian-raping kak-witted bigots in (the vast, incredibly diverse, multi-country CONTINENT that is) Africa than there really are. If your beef is Uganda's anti-gay bill, by all means talk about it. If your issue is sexual violence and homophobia in South Africa (which by the way extends far further than corrective rape for lesbians), by all means talk about it. But I suggest you avoid the Afrochauvinism and get down and dirty with the specifics of your causes.

Case in point: Tanzania has a vast range of culturally-grounded responses to same-sex love ranging from embeddedness (i.e. an accepted cultural role) to total intolerance. And that's just one African country, which has two major religions and over 100 ethnicities. Imagine, now, that there are over 50 countries in Africa- and no, we are not nearly as homogeneous as is purported. Ms. Belton's argument is framed by the legal battle for civic rights- the fight of the minority against the tyranny of the majority. She says this:

"Right now the mob is trying to rule in Uganda and South Africa against gays and lesbians and that's wrong. Right now the mob is trying to act like the government creating state sanctioned marriages between homosexuals would affect your religious marriages. I say, the mob needs to calm the hell down. You're big enough and you're bad enough to be gracious and tolerant. It won't kill you. It never has. Not even once."

She is right. The anti-lesbian 'mob' in South Africa is completely unsupported by their awesomely progressive constitution, and you might want to take a look at the Treatment Action Campaign that was headed for the longest by this gentleman. As for Uganda, again, context: Museveni is a despot and he was using his despotic powers for evil to oppress homosexuality. He succeeded, to the chagrin of those Ugandans who totally disagree with him. Do the majority of Ugandans actually want to kill homosexuals? Tafakari.

I do not mean to belittle the battles that are faced by people who are homosexual living in African countries (see how I did that? African countries...). And advocacy is invaluable. It is true, Ms. Belton, that being gay and out is not a picnic in many African societies (did it again) just as it is not in the majority of the world- your country included, as you well know. But we're just not the crazed and monolithic mob your post implies. There is tolerance, and compassion, even humor. And support. And protection. We do exist that have people in our lives whom we value, admire, dine with, celebrate and cry with, etc who also happen to be homosexual. We do this against the current of patriarchy, in spite of the fights it engenders with our families, or the strain it places on other relationships. Hell, in some places we are not even a hidden minority- we are the newly emerging normative middle class.

So Ms. Belton my dear: Happy Valentine's (or V-) Day. Have a homophilic, Afropositive weekend. And that David Wise guy in your comments section who said: "BTW, I forgot to denounce the persecution of gay people in Uganda and South Africa. These places are still relatively backward, so it doesn't surprise me that this would go on. I'm sending them positive energy and may they see divinity in all people and respect the rights of others"...totally owes some people an apology.

...and some other stuff that's crossed my radar this weekend

Tanzania is at the Pan African Film Festival this month! Weakness, written (yup, his script!) and co-produced by Abdu Simba and directed by Wanjiru Kairu will be screened on Friday 12th February and Saturday 13th February at the Culver Plaza Theatres in LA. If you go, tell all about it.

So, remember back in 2007 when the prestigious Technology, Entertainment, Design (TED) Global Conference came to Arusha bringing together thinkers and innovators from around the world and (ahem) Tanzania? Oh, you didn't go either? Well, the good news is that a band of Bongolanders are organizing a TEDxDar event that will take place on May 22nd. Link to the website coming soon. In the meantime, the TED website is an excellent place to procrastinate. It beats forwarding odious Cute Kitten/Prayer Chain/Health Scare /My Cause emails to your exasperated friends, although that can be fun too...

My favorite purveyors of shiny electronic toys, Apple, has finally fallen off the edge of the product-naming cliff. Just a month ago, they were so cool and smart and soulful (yes, and businessminded) that I could condescend to my PC friends with confidence. This year they give us...the iPad. Thanks Steve, its going to be fun carrying one of those around the office.

M. G. Vassanji was in Dar es Salaam, and he said the same thing as Yoda

I was lucky enough to meet and chat with the award-winning author M G Vassanji over the weekend during an event organized by the Soma Book Cafe. It is always fascinating to meet successful artists and get a sense of the individual behind the creative work. I found Dr. Vassanji to be quiet, thoughtful and sensitive- and very patient with some of our clumsier questions such as "Is this your first visit to Tanzania?" And although I have heard this sentiment before, Dr. Vassanji's advice to aspiring writers resonated: just do it. That's the achievement worth working towards.

Flying back from Zanzibar to Dar es Salaam yesterday was an experience. As we sat on the tarmac in the Coastal Aviation puddle jumper- barebones conveyance, no air conditioning in a sardine can with about fifteen passengers- we were delayed for nearly an hour because a Boeing that was meant to take off before us couldn't leave due to debris on the runway. The Zanzibar airport authorities were supposed to have taken care of the problem two hours ago. Instead, we got treated to the French accents of the Boeing pilot declaring: "Welcome to Zanzibaaarrr, welcome to 'ell" over the radio. Its official: Hell is a gorgeous tropical island.

As my boss had said earlier on during the day, it was surprising and perhaps instructive that Zanzibaris had come out en mass in support of Maridhiano had not once protested the lack of power on the island. This is the second month running since the undersea cable from the mainland snapped and here we were waiting for someone to clear pebbles off the runway so that a Boeing could take off, while hundreds of stranded tourists- the red blood cells of the Zanzibari economy- sweated out their bottled water in the airport lounge behind us. This island wants economic autonomy. Really?

"Do or do not...there is no try." Yoda said it, a nuclear physicist-turned-author-said it, sometimes that's just the way it is.

Short Skirts Are Behind the HIV/AIDS Epidemic

Listening to the radio at an unnatural hour of the morning, I managed to catch one of those 'issue of the day' debates. Topic: Does sexy clothing encourage people to have unsafe sex?* Most of the people who were polled on the radio (men and women) were of the opinion that it did. I listened in fascinated horror as one guy explained how he assumes that sex with a woman in tight/short clothing is hardly worthwhile unless he ditches the condom...sadly, the interviewer didn't ask him if he used condoms with lovers who wore more conservative styles. I suppose he had already picked up on the fact that this guy was a few bricks short of a stack.

The real clincher came when a lady pontificated at length that it is against African culture to wear revealing clothing of any kind. My breakfast nearly strangled me as I listened to this. Where do people come up with these specious assertions anyways? It is one thing to say that our current environment is conservative and we don't generally appreciate seeing lots of flesh on display, but to claim that the supergroup labelled Africans have always been into neck-to-ankle coverage is just boneheaded.

Our family collection contains the most wonderfully incriminating picture from the 1960s of My Lady of the Saucy Smiles posing against someone's car (The Patriarch is suspected here) whilst wearing a dress which is more like a glorified belt with sleeves. And I know I am not the only person who can blackmail her own mother with such material. How quickly we forget...

Brief hemlines and cleavage valleys aside, the implications of the 'yes' argument are horrifying. The Adam&Eve female temptress vs. stupid male victim argument is a tired excuse. Why do we insist on expecting our men to behave in a bestial manner in this day and age? What is next, justified rape and stone-age tools? Surely we can come up with a better social contract than this.

Of course, people weren't saying that we suffer from some form of sexual dementia so much as exposing our laissez-faire attitude towards sexual safety and our tendency to infantilize men. I confess, I was disappointed that no one spoke about the flip side of the coin, in spite of the high incidence of casual male nudity in Paradise.

* The Kiswahili term for unsafe sex is ngono zembe. Literal translation yields 'negligent fornication.' Somehow it strikes me as a far more accurate description of the practice...

A Weighty Matter

About 90% of folks that have seen me so far post-vacation have exclaimed in delight: 'you have put on weight!'* Um, thank you?

Let me put this in some context: as someone who had to wait a good long time for the old curves to pop out, I am not in the least bit interested in being svelte. Fun-sized women who go straight up and down look like pre-pubescent boy models. However, in the past couple of years I have been conscious of a creeping concern with what being healthy means. The magazines haven't helped. It is becoming harder and harder to ignore conversations about cabbage soup diets and coffee enemas- both of which pleasures I intend to absent myself from forever.

South Africa was a revelation. As a friend remarked who has recently moved there, there are many slim waists to be seen. It is amazingly easy to eat healthy, even if greengrocers seem to have been driven to extinction by the supermarkets. But that's not what vacations are for, and I guess my consumption of game meats and Peroni caught up with me, to the aforementioned delight of so many friends. Aaah, gone are the days when a woman could effectively hide behind her African Heritage.

Watching people run around the Cape seafront, I felt twinges of guilt about my sedentary lifestyle. While a rich African figure is a gift from the creator, an excess ten to fifteen kilos of jiggle and roll is not actually all that much fun for the bearer (especially when up-stairs haulage is involved) nor for the viewer, although that remains subjective. Where is the line of sanity between enjoying one's fabulous self, punishing one's fabulous self with ridiculous eating plans so as to fit into a chinese medium-sized dress, and letting one's fabulous self 'go?'

Its not like there is any more need to plump up like a Toro bride in this day and age, prosperity can be indicated by bling, luxe cars, the ordering of Hennessy on Friday nights. So the yawping pit of one-size-fits-all-and-it-is-zero insanity beckons, especially now that I am no longer in the populous and high-metabolism 15-25 age bracket. To stave off both the rice cakes and the diabetes, I have come up with a series of measures: if you can still jog up two flights of stairs and get to your meeting fresh, shake what your mama beqeathed you for two half-hour sets of live music, and (with or without help) produce a cleavage to drown an oil tanker in at need, life's good.

*In all fairness, 'umenenepa' more directly translates to: "you look fresh, energized, healthy and have put on a little weight" rather than "you've gotten fat." But after ten people tell one that, one's waistband starts to feel unaccountably snug...

Things Africans Don't Do: Keep Pets.

Next door's mangy mongrel came over to say hello as I was standing outside the office gates this morning. His regrettable lack of hygiene meant that I was a little reluctant to introduce myself and ruffle his crusty ears, but I thought that it was nice to see a dog that hadn't been tortured into a mortal fear and distrust of humans... until the poor puppy got called home and limped off with his tail between his legs, evidently unsure about his treatment there.

Very many dogs and a number of cats, not to mention vervet monkeys, police horses, zebras and other oddities about town get rough treatment at our hands. I was once told by someone that dogs in particular are detested because during colonial times they were used as part of the European machinery of oppression. Even we local bourgeois, eager adopters of a number of 'Western' conveniences (cable, nightclubs, jogging), often get a little squirrelly about creatures. Still, times have changed and the acts of casual cruelty that people commit towards strays and pets is very creepy. I just don't buy the notion that there is anything intrinsically 'African' about treating animals with contempt, no matter how many Afrochauvinists argue in that direction.

I have been sub-letting a friends' pets (one post-traumatic dog and an ill-tempered tomcat) but the time has come to get my own clawed allergen carriers. A natural place to go would be the animal rescue shelters, and I think that when the time comes that's where we find ourselves but for the meantime I am resisting. As a soft-touch, I don't want to go pet-hunting during a moment of weakness and get seduced by rows of sad eyes to take a whole pack of animals home. Besides, I am intrigued by the thought holding out for a Basenji, aka Congo Dog, Zande Dog, Ango Angari. Originally from the Congo-DRC, Basenjis don't bark but they do sing and ululate, clean themselves like cats, are aloof and independent and mischievous, and have an affinity for musical careers.

Things Africans Don't Do: Steak, Medium Rare.

I was at a franchise steakhouse restaurant on the Peninsula last night, and ordered a chilli-cheese steak. Make it medium rare, I said, with fries. My server asked me if I was sure that I wanted it medium rare, because that's pretty much still bloody. I said that yes, indeed, juicy is as juicy eats. My server then informed me that I must be Mzungu because Africans Don't Eat Uncooked Meat.

Welcome to the Things That Africans Don't Do section of the blog where I will be posting about close encounters with Afrochauvinist Fundamentalists. When someone tells me that I am doing something that Africans don't do, either I have just disagreed with their stupid argument and they have no other ammunition to chuck my way, or I have done something that is outside their narrowly defined set of expectations. Africans, all freaking hundreds of millions of them from thousands of different cultures and language groups, Do A Lot Of Things. Still, it will be interesting to keep track of all the ones that we apparently don't in case I ever decide to become that paragon of virtues, a Good African Woman. Snort, chuckle.

A propos the love of a bloody cut: the most deliciously undercooked meat I ever tasted was a few years ago in Kenya. It was a little roast-goat snack that some Maasai Elders had prepared for us, their NGO Benefactors, when we visited a school project. My two Canadian companions were vegetarians, leaving all the more dripping tender riblets for me to consume. Africans do so Eat Uncooked Meat. And every morsel that we consumed together was chin-dribbling, finger-sucking, fly-waving good.