Why ‘Chato Region’ is a solution looking for a problem

The talk of the proposed establishment of Chato Region has set social media alight in the past few days. This has brought up several high-profile individuals to weigh in on the discussion, giving us an opportunity to review this and other equally misguided ideas.

The discussion started with the news of the proposal to establish the new region by Geita’s Regional Consultative Committee (RCC) by combining the districts of Chato, Bukombe, Kakonko, Biharamulo and Ngara. This followed the request of Chato elders to Her Excellency President Samia Suluhu Hassan during the funeral of her predecessor, John Pombe Magufuli. The elders pointed out that Magufuli had promised them Chato Region, and that that was an ideal way to honour his legacy.

Given all the hullaballoo that has occurred in Chato since 2015, the elders’ revelation wasn’t necessary for people to deduce the direction that Magufuli’s government was taking. Otherwise, how were we to explain why the gate to Burigi Game Reserve was placed in Chato, while Burigi itself is in Biharamulo? Or why a zonal hospital, a regional TRA office, or an international airport were unconventionally placed in Chato rather than the regional headquarters 100 kilometres away in Geita?

But the idea is widely unpopular, being opposed even by the councillors of Geita Town itself. Others who have expressed their reservations include Prof Anna Tibaijuka, Bishop Dr Benson Bagonza, and Bishop Severine Niwemugizi – all from Kagera Region.

Writing on social media, Dr Bagonza likened Chato to an ectopic pregnancy, which threatens the life of the mother (regions). Bishop Niwemugizi said that the proposal considers the wishes of the rulers but not of the ruled, and Prof Tibaijuka opined that Chato doesn’t meet minimum requirements for its proposed elevation to regional status.

But what are the arguments for Chato?

One, to honour the legacy of Magufuli. This logic goes like this: Given what Magufuli wanted, given the development that has taken place in Chato, then Magufuli’s wishes should be honoured.

This, at best, is a sentimental argument. The government is being asked to commit billions of shillings annually for wishy-washy reasons. Moreover, even the presence of new infrastructure in Chato doesn’t redeem its case since their viability and sustainability are highly questionable. Ultimately, to attempt to salvage the situation, the government may have to repurpose their strategic uses, such as – as Prof Tibaijuka suggested – utilising the airport as a ‘hub for contract horticulture and floriculture’.

Two, to improve access to public services. It is argued that Ngara, Biharamulo, and Kakonko – which are 300km, 173km and 284km, respectively, from their regional centres – are too far away, so Chato’s relative proximity to those districts provides a solution.

This unfortunately appears to be a solution which is looking for a problem. If distance is the issue, how then can Chato, which is 218km and 130km from Kakonko and Ngara, respectively, be a solution? Isn’t Biharamulo a better solution, which leaves Chato in Geita where it belongs? Or better still, why not Nyakanazi which is quite central to Biharamulo, Kakonko, Runzewe, and Rusumo?

Ultimately, the question should be: how many regions will Tanzania end up with? If we can entertain dividing Geita, a region with an area of 19,592km2, how many regions will we have once the likes of Tabora, Rukwa, Morogoro, Lindi, and Ruvuma, each with more than 65,000 square kilometres, have been divided? Surely, we cannot keep redrawing the map forever (I used to know all the districts in Tanzania, but I no longer bother to even try).

Next, do we really need more regions? Are there problems which only regional administrative centres can solve apart from district or town councils? If all that people need is access to public services, does it follow that a region should be created? We may need to reconsider what we mean by regions and districts and the purposes they serve. This willy-nilly increasing of administrative centres, which means greater burden to taxpayers, is the least imaginative way of addressing societal problems. This is why the Draft Constitution, which didn’t see the light of day, proposed to fix the maximum number of regions by law (according to Prof Tibaijuka).

Reviewing our regions so that they may be fixed for good requires addressing other existing issues. For example, why are the boundaries so unintuitive? Why, for example, is Mererani in Manyara and not Arusha? Why is Mkuranga in Coast and not Dar es Salaam? Secondly, are new administrative regions created based on ethnic identities? Was that the reason to separate Chato from Biharamulo, or Mwanga from Same? Finally, what’s the role that top executives have in the creation of new administrative boundaries? The word in the streets is that that’s what matters most.

To build a nation, there are things we should not do because of their symbolic meaning. It would have been in an awfully bad taste to find an international airport in Butiama before Musoma, or a zonal hospital in Msoga before Kibaha. In that light, the whole Chato project has been not only imprudent, but also unbelievably selfish. Let’s learn from that.

Let’s allow Chato to develop through the ingenuity and creativity of its great people, not through further preferential government treatment.