Goanetters,
Something my sister Yvonne sent me which I thought might interest some of
the old Tanzanites out there

regards

Ciril de Quadros,
Raia & Slough, England


Liberalisation: Mwalimu Nyerere must be turning in his grave
by John Fox writing for the Nation


Concrete and glass constructions dominate the leftover German colonial and Indian 
commercial buildings.

I lost my political virginity on the beach to the north of Dar es Salaam. It

was late September in 1982 and I was doing a sabbatical term teaching at the

university - that very high-minded place on the hill, twenty or more 
kilometres from the city and overlooking the Indian Ocean.

Up till then, my politics had been by distance education, through heavy 
books and heated conversations. I was a rebel socialist (rebel, to be 
truthful, only in a safe and domestic sense that I had developed different views from 
my parents, who took the Daily Express on week days and the News 
of the World on Sundays).

One of my heroes was Mwalimu Julius Nyerere. I had read his speeches on 
African Socialism - and I had even written an inadequately informed piece about his 
dual role as a President and adult educator. I had believed that Tanzania's Kivukoni 
College, with its reorientation courses on collectivism 
for civic leaders, was doing a better job than our University of Nairobi's Adult 
Studies Centre, with its second chance opportunities for a few lucky individuals.

In 1982 Tanzania's economy was at its lowest ebb. The national mood had 
changed. In the late Sixties and early Seventies Tanzanians might not have developed 
their industries to any significant extent, but they had certainly

redefined their Ujamaa, and with something approaching arrogance, they had derided 
Kenya's 'man-eat-man' society.

In that September of 1982, they put me in the Silver Sands Hotel, which the university 
had bought from the Israeli owner who, unable to get his money out of Tanzania, was 
condemned to stay in his adjacent beach house and watch

the hotel's service deteriorate and the fabric decay.

The setting was beautiful, and my room was only a ten seconds walk across the sand to 
the cool and gently breaking sea. But, usually, that was the only water around. The 
taps were often quenched. The food was meagre, 
repetitive and carelessly cooked. And the guests were even more carelessly looked 
after.

It was the same shabby scenario, so I discovered, in all the state-owned and

state-run hotels along that beautiful stretch of the Tanzanian coast. With owners 
without an interest in making a profit, and with staff without a 
concern for losing their jobs - the most sensible and comfortable thing for a guest to 
do was to look after himself.

One morning, I remember asking the waiter if he could bring me a jug of hot water so 
that I could dilute the thick tea in the pot he had brought. He hesitated. I asked 
again. He still hesitated.

"What's the problem?" I asked.

"But that would mean I have to go back to the kitchen ......" he said, 
without moving.

One evening, a group of us went to another hotel for a celebration dinner. After 
ordering steak and waiting for more than half an hour, the waiter came

to tell us that there was no steak. So we ordered chicken. After another 
half hour the waiter served us the chicken. When that was finished, we made our 
choices for the sweet course. But there was no one left in the 
restaurant to take our orders. Without telling us, the staff had all gone home.

The exception was the Bahari Beach Hotel, the only one in private ownership.

The taps ran with hot as well as cold water. The food was plentiful and 
tasty. The service was smart and friendly. Every Sunday people came from 
miles around to enjoy the barbecue. It was an oasis of efficiency and 
relaxation in a sea of mess and hassle.

All this is by way of a prelude to a journey I am making round Lake 
Victoria, I flew first from Nairobi to Dar es Salaam, for a briefing related

to the various 'community-based' projects I will be monitoring.

>From there I will go to Mwanza on the southern shores of the Lake, up the eastside 
>through Musoma and back into Kenya through the most western border 
crossing at Isebania - and onto Kisumu.

>From Kisumu I will drive through the border with Uganda at Busia and on to the Lake 
>towns of Jinja, Entebbe and Kampala. Finally, there will be the easy flight back to 
>Nairobi.

I am writing this in a 'deluxe' room in the most luxurious Royal Palm Hotel in Dar es 
Salaam. Outside, I look over the Gymkhana Club and the golf 
course; inside, I can watch the world through more than fifty TV channels.

I've made a couple of visits to offices in the city. And I hardly recognize the place. 
Clearly, liberalisation has made a difference to this once 
low-key and run-down town. Concrete and glass constructions dominate the 
leftover German colonial and Indian commercial buildings.

But Tanzania is experiencing a new kind of colonialism, it seems. South 
Africans are managing the hotel where I am staying. They are managing the beer that I 
am drinking. They are managing the aircraft that I will fly to Mwanza. And, there, 
they are managing the gold mines ...

And what are all these colonial echoes I am hearing in the names of the new hotels? 
Here I am staying in a Royal Palm. In Kisumu it will be the 
Imperial. And in Kampala it will be the even more grandiose Grand Imperial!

With the new commercial invasions from the South and the nostalgic reminders

of the colonising west, Mwalimu Julius Nyerere must be turning in his grave.

John Fox is Managing Director of IntermediaNCG

Copyright � 2001, 2002, 2003 Arusha Times.


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