Prof Karim Hirji on growing up with Tanzania

 Perhaps it is a difficult thing to say, but it is often hard to think of people of Indian origin among us as Tanzanians.  At least that is how Prof Karim Hirji, a retired Professor of Mathematics feels about the matter.

In his book, ‘Growing up with Tanzania’, a memoir that was published in 2014 by Mkuki na Nyota Publishers he writes of how he and Tanzania have grown up together. “I wrote this book for memory. I realised that the young people do not know where we have come from as a nation. They are clueless on how it was like during colonialism. So I focused on what changed in the first 10 years of independence,” he says. 

In his book, Prof Hirji takes us back in time when there was no grey area between black and white in Tanzania. His father, Fathali Hirji, was born in 1919.

And his late mother, Sakerbai, was born in Unguja in 1920. As a young man, Fathali’s first job was working as a truck driver in Lindi. They encouraged him to pursue his choice of career. 

When his family moved to Dar es Salaam in 1962 from Lindi, young Karim was 14. He had just completed Standard Eight. He joined a Secondary Technical School in Dar which offered technical studies such as Engineering Drawing, Metal Work and Wood Work in addition to normal secondary school subjects. He recalls the first day in a mixed school. Although it is hard to imagine today, but in the colonial times people of different race didn’t mix in school, he says. In Indian schools, they were taught in Gujarati. 

 “On the first day of class, I was the only person of Asian origin. Everyone else was African. I was in shock and I couldn’t even speak Kiswahili. But I made good friends who taught me a lot of things. They taught me the meaning of humanity, and of course I learnt how to speak Kiswahili,” he says in fluent Swahili. Later on, he took Physics, Chemistry and Pure Mathematics (PCM) at Kibaha Secondary School (1965-6). 

The first ten years after independence were very hard, he says. People had to learn the new way of life. “Can you imagine that there was no black African family residing in Upanga. And even the Indians didn’t mix in the same area. The Ismailia lived near Jamatini while the Baniani lived near Hindu Mandal.”   

He admits that one of the most difficult things to talk about in his memoir was about race. Especially, the story that involved his mother.  “I remember how a friend of mine came for tea one day. He was Asian. When he left, my mother asked me why didn’t I give him enough food while we had plenty. A few days later, an African friend came for tea. When he left, my mother asked me why I gave him so much food. Did I want my family to starve?  I do not blame her for thinking that way, she was raised in a system that created this kind of view. And I love my mother and my family. They are why I am here today. But I had to write the truth. Although it wasn’t a very pleasant thing to describe,” he says.

He shows me a picture taken in 1966 at Buguruni Primary School. He was among a few people who volunteered to build the school every Friday. It was rare to see such a thing happen before. Indians building a school in a black community? It was a very strange thing that indicated positive change. He thinks that when President Mwinyi came into power and changed the economic system, racism escalated.  

In his book he explains that he was almost mugged one day and nobody helped him. He writes: “I had expected someone to assist… an elderly man obviously in trouble. But no onlooker had batted an eye. On the contrary, a few had muttered gleefully in Swahili, muhindi anaibiwa, muhindi anaibiwa. (The Asian is being robbed). As the muggers fled, I angrily said to the bystanders, “Why did you not do anything? They shrugged their shoulders and averted their eyes. I was but a muhindi, not one of them. 

Student activist at Mlimani 

The young Karim joined University of Dar es Salaam in 1968 where he pursued a Bachelor’s Degree in Mathematics and Education. He was a member of United Students African Revolutionary Front (USARF), a students’ body that supported Mwalimu Nyerere’s philosophy on socialism and self-reliance. His brother-in-law, Prof Issa Shivi, Yoweri Museveni and Walter Rodney were among the members. 

“We started our own newspaper called Cheche. I was its Chief Editor. We came to a conclusion, after conducting a research, that in theory Nyerere’s thoughts were good but in reality, there were a lot of challenges in implementing them. The major one being, people in the government agreed with Mwalimu by word but were against him in action.” They wrote about this openly in Cheche and as a result, the paper and the students’ body were banned by TANU in November 1970. “The University Chancellor, Pius Msekwa, called us to his office and gave us the news. I will never forget that,” he says.  

Prof Karim edited ‘Cheche: Reminiscence of a Radical Magaine’, a collection of essays published in the Cheche paper. The anthology was released in 2010 by Mkuki na Nyota Publishers.

 “We published an essay that Yoweri Museveni wrote back then. But we made it clear that the author was not the President of Uganda but a student. The distinction must be made clear since he is no longer the same man in his thinking.”

Although Cheche was run by students, the English publication was read by people from all over the world. At the time, Tanzania was the headquarters of African liberation. And that is why many people didn’t understand why Mwalimu was against it since it promoted Pan-Africanism and socialism. Perhaps, he was pressured by government officials, wonders ProfHirji. After Cheche, another students’ body started Majimaji which had similar political views.  

In 1971, Karim was employed at the university as a Tutorial Assistant and later as an Assistant Lecturer in the Mathematics Department. “I remember how in 1973, as the Teaching Practice Supervisor in my department, I travelled to Dodoma, Iringa, Tanga, Moshi, Arusha and Morogoro for work. And I witnessed how students and teachers disliked Mwalimu’s education for self-reliance. Their agricultural projects were not well integrated with academics. 

“For instance, even though they would have a great supply of vegetables and fruits, their canteen didn’t have the good food from their farm because it was ‘shared’ with other communities. This was disheartening,” he says.

He wrote about this in Majimaji and criticised Mwalimu’s philosophy. Mwalimu was not happy about it. In 1974, he was transferred to Sumbawanga where he was given a new post, Rukwa’s Regional Planning Officer. “From a Lecturer in Mathematics to a Planning Officer! Everyone knew that I was punished because Sumbawanga was where political prisoners were sent in colonial times. It was the Siberia of Tanzania,” he says. 

He explains that although his parents advised him to pursue further studies abroad since they didn’t like Mwalimu’s philosophy, he refused. “This is my country, I had to stay. And I had to go to Sumbawanga. In those days, students had a 5-year contract with the government to work for the government on completing your undergraduate studies since the government financed your education. I had not yet finished my contract. I couldn’t just break the law,” he explains. 

He stayed in Sumbawanga for two years.  He had just been married for 6 months. His wife, Farida, who was expecting when he was transferred, joined him three months after she delivered. He says that his new life wasn’t so bad. He thanks Mwalimu for the opportunity to see more of Tanzania. It was a great experience.