4 April 2007

Early in the morning somewhere West of Dar’s Millennium Tower I found myself having to call ESRF’s Dr. Mashindano for the second time in less than fifteen minutes. After three months in Tanzania I had finally secured an interview with the most in-demand economic thinker in the country, Professor Wangwe. I had no idea where his office was located and my anti-malarial meds had induced a pounding headache. Needless to say I was quite frazzled. I looked up from the phone and watched a Land Cruiser glide by. To my surprise, I saw the man whose portrait adorns the lobby at ESRF in the passenger seat. “Follow that truck,” I very nearly shouted at my new and reasonably priced driver while I contemplated the fact that this was only one stroke of luck amongst many over the past weeks. The meeting that ensued with Professor Wangwe – my sixtieth ‘elite’ interviewee in Tanzania – was truly brilliant, and I felt blessed once again to be in such a privileged position. After saying our farewells and expressing our excitement about the North-South Institute conference we will both attend at Wilton Park next month, I headed to the city centre for my next big catch. Or so I thought.

If I were to generalize about my interviewees, I would say that they have been consistently informed, giving of their time and happy to assist a young mzungu that wants to explain problematic realities in a way that helps people. Save for one, that is. Suffice it to say that during my second interview of the day my project came under the microscope. I became the interviewee. As I emerged into the light of the street I thought about the visceral and negative take on the orientation of my project that I had just been subjected to. It was a first, and a cue for me to think more concretely about the limitations of my work. Even adversity, it seemed, could teach me things.

To clear my head I borrowed a page out of a book that I had recently finished – “The Economist’s Tale” – and made an impromptu drop-in at Pamba (Cotton) House on Pamba Road to see if I could meet briefly with Dr. Kabissa, the Director of the Cotton Board. He received me for a quick visit with a smile and complimented me on my work. As I was planning to write a short preliminary report on my findings, I asked him if there were measures that I could take that would enable me to write it in a way would that would be acceptable to most Tanzanians. Like Professor Wangwe, he advised me to stick with the facts and to avoid any pretensions to having all of the answers. Wangwe had noted that there are many things that people like me do not know about Tanzania, and many things about Tanzania that many Tanzanians do not know too, and that that message had to be front-and-centre. He impressed upon me that I must make it crystal clear to my readers that I am writing a contingent story about complex relationships and that what I have to say will add new empirical content to many diverse debates. After echoing these comments, Dr. Kabissa opined that he looked forward more to the finished dissertation than to a little report. I told him that his suggestion would be music to my supervisor’s ears.

I proceeded up the road to track down a copy of the 2004 Environment Act. After inquiring at the office that had provided me with a copy of the 2005 Biosafety Protocol, the staff suggested that I go around the corner to the “duka da vitabu wa taifa” (the National Bookshop). A comedy of errors ensued. “Around the corner” I made at least eight inquiries of different passerby regarding the exact location of the shop. Under the influence of the latest directions I’d been given in Swahili, I potentially walked past it four times as I crossed and re-crossed a traffic circle with no fewer than six roads jutting off of it. Curly blonde guys in aviators can be comic relief for the locals, and I was happy to oblige. Persistence paid off though, and I actually procured a whack of legislation, including the Employment Act and others that will be useful as I probe the question of potential child labour that came up more than once in Geita District.

Leaving the bookstore, to my surprise, a truck with the logo of the International Fund for Agricultural Development painted on its side was parked directly in front of me. I approached and asked if the Country Officer, Dr. Juma, was around and if it would be possible to say farewell to her. She had previously provided me with a wealth of information on the organics movement. I interviewed at least eight people as a direct result of the things I learnt during our first meeting, and it was great to thank her in person.

Later, after editing the day’s interviews from home I felt the need to do a workout. I set out on foot for the Gymkhanna Club. The Ocean Road evening traffic jam was in full effect and as I approached the Aga Khan Hospital the SUVs were at a standstill. At the corner, as they do every day, local street peddlers were hawking ice cream, shirts, bananas and pineapples. I saw a woman finish paying for some ice cream and then watched in seeming slow motion as she unwrapped the product and then flicked the wrapper out the window of her Range Rover and into the street. I stopped and without thinking twice picked up the wrapper and tossed it back inside the Range Rover’s open window and onto her lap. A few people that had witnessed my response started to yell at me in Swahili, presumably because the government employs labourers to clean up the road. Perhaps I was endangering those jobs! However, I paid no attention to the fuss and continued on my journey. It was a direct action that had sprung from somewhere in my subconscious mind and I was at peace. I think my Grandfather would have been proud.

----

My time in Tanzania has come to an end for now. I have many people to thank for making my adventure thus far an incredible success. As I sit down in Kigali next week to piece together my thoughts on the past months I will be thinking of the many wonderful people that have helped me along the way. So, to my new friends: farewell and I’ll see you in the future.