Crumbling Facades...

I for one was keen to leave the teeming humidity of Dar es Salaam. The two hour drive from the camp site through the city was not without incident though as we were stopped by a two-man road block and while G went through his usual routine with the white-clad police, some of the travellers on-board took photographs of the bustle. One of the locals complained to the police who were only too happy to be given a reason to exert pressure in the hopes of exacting another bribe. Apparently, it is against the law to photograph a policeman or soldier executing their duty and the threat of imprisonment was bruskly made while one of the pair climbed into the cab and the other joined the rest of us at the back of the truck. I smile at the irony as I think of Eric Cartman’s ‘authority’ refrain. There is nothing as maddening as a stupid fucker in uniform and I had to bight my tongue as the surly tirade continued for the few minutes it took for us to reach the local police station where a more senior officer took his turn to go through the same uniformed song-and-dance routine of threats and hints that this ‘problem’ could be made to disappear. And disappear it did after a ‘fine’ of 60000 Shillings. This set the tone for my reflections… And the notion of how the façade of democracy quickly crumbles when dealing with career bureaucrats

The sprawling urban slum that comprises most of the city is populated by poor people eking out an existence in un-serviced squalor. Rules of the road are virtually non-existent and prostitution and crime are rife. Yet, most women are covered with burkas and an almost missionary, conservative and ‘traditional’ mind-set prevails. The usual counterfeit brands are worn and the sheer extent of the commerce would imply a definite Western aspiration of the mostly mindless middle-class. Gender roles and social status is for the most part set and unchallenged. There is not much progressive discourse and everyone seems to be either hustling or on the make. But I suppose that the most telling indication of the malaise was the signs along the road through one of the unfenced National Parks that were written in Swahili with a price quoted in US Dollars alongside the names of animals. I am not sure whether these figures are fines for harming the animals or prices for hunting them.

Suddenly I am not surprised that the AU is what it is. A gathering of governments that seem to be playing at being in power while in fact advancing the agendas of the Chinese or the Indians or more traditionally the West and most likely a combination of essentially foreign interests. Corporate securities and capitalist dictates have superseded notions of equality and justice and corruption seems to be the order of the day, while ordinary people go about their lives scratching in the dirt to survive with their heads bowed in prayer and supplication. The scarred and scuffed façade of liberation has crumbled. In Kenya talk of terrorism is front page news and in the City of Dar es Salaam, there is a Barrack Obama Road. Black Africans are still poorly paid labourers who defer to their bosses who in turn – and irrespective of the colour of their skin – are not in business to develop the skills of their workforce but instead – as elsewhere – to make as much profit as possible.

For me it is not enough to be a proud African or for that matter, to mistake arrogance for pride. It is not enough to speak of liberation and democracy or any other noble ideal while your mind has successfully been colonized. Happy to be accepted or even just acknowledged by the oppressor for your ability to unquestioningly assume the values and characteristics of what was once the moral and physical enemy. At the end of the day, it does not matter how bright or shiny the uniform if wearing it allows you to continue to be stupid.