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Of expert thieves and drug traffickers
2005-12-29 08:55:15
By Deo Mfugale
We were becoming impatient. The bus was scheduled to depart at 5.00 pm but it was already 15 minutes past the hour and there was no sign of our departing soon. Maybe we were too impatient.
But the letters were very clear on the time of departure: ’’you are required to arrive at the Gogo Hotel by 4.30pm. The bus will leave for Bagamoyo at 5.00.’’ There was no way those of us who were already in the bus could be mistaken.
Salma was the most impatient. ’’Tuondokeni zetu jama, taimu si ndiyo hii? It is time we left!’’ she urged one of the organizers.
However, she was told that we would have to wait for the others as they were coming from far away.
’’We will have to give them at least five minutes,’’ Mohammed had explained.
Salma, the lady journalist from Zanzibar, would not have any of that. She argued that the delegates who had not turned up should find their way to the venue of the workshop.
’’No one has come so far away like me. I have crossed the Indian Ocean, who else has done that? Zanzibar mbali ati maana mpaka uvuke bahari. Nani mwingine kavuka bahari kama mimi?’’ She insisted.
Somehow, she won the battle. We waited for about two minutes and when no one else turned up the bus left for Bagamoyo.
Journalists are always like that – impatient and argumentative, sometimes unreasonably so. A delay of about five minutes was nothing to complain about. It was no big deal.
A bunch of us, about 15 were going for a workshop in Bagamoyo to deliberate our role, the role of the media in dealing with climate change and its effects.
I thought, and still think, that this should be the priority agenda for all of us.
The good thing about it was that we had teamed with our counterparts from Uganda so that we could exchange experiences and see how the media in the sub-region could work together to help the folks in the rural areas to deal with the impacts of climate change.
There is no doubt that climate change is now a reality. Forget about the ice thinning out on Mt Kilimanjaro or Mt Kenya. The drying up of The Great Ruaha does not deny TANESCO bosses some sleep any more. Haven’t we heard about it for the past five years?
Even now when the water level at Mtera dam has gone below its lowest level, no one really seems to care. We have given up, we have despaired. Let the worst come.
But look at this , we are in the last days of December and we haven’t had a drop of rain. Where is Vuli, the short rainy season?
The last time my colleagues asked the Tanzania Meteorological Authority about the short rains they were told that the season would start late, the second week of November , at the latest. That was during the last week of October.
To date we haven’t had a drop of rain and TMA has not come up with a clue. Think of how our peasants are going to survive, bearing in mind that they depend on rainfed agriculture. That is what climate change is all about.
On the other hand, the price of maize has gone up in many parts of the country. Stocks are dwindling. Yet we are exporting truckloads of the same to Zambia and Malawi.
Bagamoyo was not all work and toiling. We also had some light moments. Like when the story of the drug trafficker from Zanzibar appeared in the newspapers.
According to the story a businessman who resides in Zanzibar , Peter Mohamed Benedict had been arrested by the police at the Dar es Salaam International Airport with a contraband of 72 pellets of drugs in his stomach that he was to take to the US. The man was just about to board a British Airways Flight BA 046.
Salma, again, would not believe any of it. ’’Mzanzibari gani anaitwa Peter? Mbara huyu. There is no Zanzibari who goes by the name of Peter, this is surely a Mainlander,’’ she argued.
It was during the morning tea break. Someone said that the middle name , Mohamed, could be his real name while the Christian names were only ’’business names’’.
The lady would not take any of it either. She argued that Zanzibaris are experts in the trade and wouldn’t get caught. Besides, the contraband is usually inbound and not for export.
Surely Peter was a novice in the trade and must therefore have flipped somewhere.
’’You see, even in Kenya, the Kikuyus are professional thieves, they never get caught when they steal. But once the Luo try their hand in the trade they get caught immediately. Hawajazoea ati!’’ she argued. We let her have her way.
That evening we decided to explore Bagamoyo township and get the feel of the town. Someone had told us that a place called Baganite (or some similar name) would be the best alternative to the hotel where we were holding the workshop. A group of us decided to have a go at it.
We had hardly walked some distance when a lady came running behind us carrying a bag in one of her hands. ’’I see you are new to this place; let me tell you something,’’ she said. Before any of us had time to reply, she went ahead.
’’I am selling some shirts. Second hand of course but they are beautiful. All sizes are available including yours,’’ she said, pointing at me.
I looked fatter than any of my colleagues. One of us explained that we had no need for shirts but were looking for this famous place called Baganaiti.
’’Let us go, I will take you there,’’ she volunteered. It wasn’t far and we were soon there.
One of us ordered drinks and we invited her to join us. She asked for a Coca-Cola but changed her mind as soon as the attendant brought her one.
’’No, give me a Kilimanjaro,’’ she told the maid.
She did not leave us until were had each emptied two beers. Then she said she would have to go home to deposit her merchandise and would join us later.
We knew she would come back since she was sure free beer would continue to flow.
So we hatched a plan . The only empty chair was the one she had left. So we told the maid to hide it and only give it to another customer, not her.
She was indeed back in about half an hour, a little late as the chair had been given to someone else.
What was worse, no one invited her to the group and we acted as if we had never seen her before. She hung around for sometime before she discreetly disappeared.
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