who says we are broke?

Hard times are here and as agreed the falling shilling has hit us so bad, especially we the drinkers. It has now become a common song, the economy isn’t so friendly!

Everyone I know has this or that lamentation on how expensive it has become to survive on shoestring budget.

It is such a cryptic puzzle that doesn’t seem to have a solution; the question is, why?

Even if the politicians aren’t doing their job, there are several things I believe we can do as individuals to improve the situation.

You meet the youth and you will hear them querying; where are the jobs pledged by the government?

I met this frustrated young man who told me how he had got very good grades in Form Six but still failed to get a students’ loan and therefore cannot get a job.

“It is not what you know, but who you know that matters when it comes to job hunting in Bongo,” he added with wry smile on face.

He left silently when I suggest he wasn’t looking hard enough.

“Have you tried applying for mortuary attendant? Most undertakers I bump into are so old; they will soon be needing morticians themselves,” I told him.

He walked away shaking his head.

“Aren’t you even going to hear how lucrative the job is?” I begged the young man to listen.

The situation is even worse with the working class who seem to be moaning louder than anyone else! Yet in real sense they receive their monthly pay quite on time.

Workers in Bongo are crying over pitiable pay and high taxes.

They become particularly bitter when they discover there is nothing they can do about it!

Cynically the poor fellows are always losing cases when it comes using strikes as remedy.

So as a result most are on ago-slow mode as they watch the quality of our services crumble by the day.

“I am thinking of joining politics, this medicine job is not paying,” a certain doctor told me.

“Sasa, who is going to take care of us if all of you become politicians, maybe you should use hanger-shrikes that cannot be nullified by court rulings,” I suggested.

He thought for a while then said, “Mmmh. Hiyo ngumu.”

There was a day I read a certain survey suggesting Tanzanians rank highest in the world amongst people who are most perplexed about their country.

Now what I don’t understand in perplexity that I meet everywhere I go, few are coming out with solutions.

Most of us, ministers, music stars, religious leaders, and many others I can think of are all locked up in the finger pointing game. They can’t resist calling one another a thief.

By the way these thieves are every where I am told even in sports!

I pass by this school from home to wherever I am going. I always wonder why on earth open such a school?

The place looks more like a refugee camp. The playing field looks like the top of bold man’s head.

A few days ago an opportunity presented itself in form of a wedding party organising committee.

I stood up when my turn came to pledge trying to make myself look as big as I could. Without waiting for the chairperson to grant me permission, I started speaking.

“I think it is ridiculous that we spend so much money on a parties that lasts only for a few hours.”

“mh,mh,” I checked my throat to make sure everyone at the table was paying attention.

“Why don’t we use some of the money to improve conditions at our ward school?”

There was some dead silence before the chairman ordered me to sit down.

“Sit down, we don’t want your politics here. How many are for one hundred thousand?”

I stood up and left in disgust.