SMART WORLD: Dar es Salaam lacks culture- This is what we can do about it
It is a Tanzanian thing for one to ask an acquaintance where one’s ‘home’ is.
Fellow Tanzanians will instinctively know that the interlocutor expects some information about where one is hailing from, usually some remote upcountry village. Apparently, everyone’s home is anywhere but where they are!
So, how do we, who were born in Dar and have hardly spent a day out there, respond to such a question? This is the dilemma that the misguided modernists such as I are always faced with.
When we were growing up in Dar a trip from Keko to Mbagala was going to shamba. Today Mbagala hosts an endless sea of people. Then I went to a school commonly known as, I remember with amusement, Sinza Mihogoni.
Today you will be hard-pressed to find anyone who calls it that. Having seen many neighbourhoods springing up, one expects of himself to know a little bit about every neighbourhood in the city.
However, Dar es Salaam, I say this with a great degree of trepidation, lacks culture. Now, I may simply be nostalgic, remembering the days when people would carelessly go to an open evening market to pick some snacks to munch, or when I would accompany my father to Kivukoni, and he – an engineer with an advanced degree – would tell me to wash my red eyes with ocean water because it was medicinal! Weren’t those magical times?
Nostalgia aside, if your idea of a good time is not getting zonked in the nearest bar, or going to test your eardrums’ limits in the noisiest places in town masquerading as dance halls, or go to popular nyama choma joints with barbequed meat whose main culinary secret is that they are literally burnt, then tell me where do you take your family out to?
There are no city gardens, beaches are dirty and undeveloped, pathways are blocked by street vendors, and our neighbourhoods are full of kiosks and bodaboda riders, all thanks to our city planning. Or the lack thereof.
Then came the age of the malls. That was a welcome piece of development. But, having been there, and done that, one wishes for something a bit different. While kids don’t mind going out, as long as it is out, but, after a long week in Dar’s abominable traffic, sometimes you get a feeling that you deserve better.
Unfortunately, Dar es Salaam, which literally means a haven of peace, is not that peaceful. While one would have expected it to be buzzing with an exotic blend of African, Arabic, Persian, and Indian cultures but all that you get is Asians cocooned in their neighbourhoods, and locals engaged in a mindless dance of survival with shops and kiosks, bodabodas and wapiga-debe everywhere! Wapiga-debe, who would have thought that dozens of people who are pushing each other to get into a particular bus need to be continuously told by someone shouting where that bus is going! These are Tanzanians.
If there is something that stands out as our identity as a city is an absence of culture. What can we do about this?
Firstly, we must realise that the fact that something is African doesn’t make it culture. The travesty that used to be the Museum Village and Mwenge Arts Village cannot gratify our hunger for beauty and excellence.
A visit to a street displaying products of high-end art would be ideal and would attract more local buyers, not a visit to a backwater arts workshop. Let’s not confuse poverty with culture.
Secondly, let’s think of our property and social developments in terms of families. As people keep swarming to this city, the needs of whole families must take a centre stage. Playing fields. Picnic areas.
Developed beaches. Etc. Not everyone wants to drink beer and watch football. But if they were, wouldn’t they appreciate safe public areas that cater to their different needs?
Thirdly, we need to gentrify some neighbourhoods or places. It is okay to have a taste for the good things of life and if people don’t see what is missing, then they have all they need. I believe that there is a good case for the gentrification of a place like Kariakoo.
Ban vehicles, street vendors, and unauthorised businesses. Develop food courts. Build bicycle racks. Green zones. Water parks. Set up strict littering laws. Etc. Before you know it, just like Mlimani City, the place will be buzzing with life attracting millions just to hang out and have fun.
As essential as cities are for our economic needs, culture is equally important for our identity. People go to Rio for its carnivals, Venice for its delightful waterways, and French Riviera for its glamourous beaches. To develop culture, we must think of our shared experiences and aspirations as a community.
To affirm that identity we have to do big things and big events. That means the mind-numbing and all-night Mchiriku dances won’t count.
