When I read that Tanzania plans to introduce an electronic ticketing system for daladalas, I nearly stood up and applauded… in public… for transport reform.
Growth. Progress. Digital vibes.
For a split second, I thought, “Look at us! Entering our soft life era, one tap at a time.”
And honestly, for millions of daily commuters, e-ticketing does sound like a glow-up.
No more scrambling for loose change, no more awkward conductor maths, no more “huna chenji?” negotiations at 7am.
Just tap, go, and mind your business. Beautiful.
But let’s not get carried away. Because any seasoned daladala commuter knows the real chaos begins long before you even think about paying.
The payment method? That’s the least of our problems.
Let’s start with the buses themselves.
Some of these daladalas look like they officially retired in 2007 but refused to leave the workforce.
They are tired. Spiritually, emotionally, mechanically… tired.
Seats are torn like they’ve been through heartbreak, some so loose you sit down carefully like your future depends on it because one wrong move and you might slide straight into the passenger next to you, like, ‘Excuse me?’
Then there are random metal bits sticking out everywhere, and you genuinely cannot tell what they were meant to be when the daladala was still in its prime.
And do not even get started on those makeshift force-fit seats, tiny, cramped and suspiciously placed... feel like punishment.
Honestly, these interiors have lived multiple past lives, and they are still not done with us.
Then comes cleanliness… or the lack of a consistent relationship with it.
Yes, a few heroic daladalas have introduced dustbins, and for that we clap.
We love effort. We support initiatives.
But by the end of the day, many of these buses still look like a documentary of human activity.
Snack wrappers, dust, mysterious crumbs, and that one unidentified item you refuse to investigate. The floor tells stories nobody asked to hear.
And just when you think you’ve adjusted, plot twist... you are not alone.
Cockroaches. Not shy ones. Not “oops, I made a mistake” cockroaches. Confident ones. Bold ones. Creatures that move like them, too, tapped their e-ticket and secured a seat.
You lock eyes with one, and suddenly you’re reflecting on your entire life, including the decisions that led you to that exact bus at that exact moment.
Now imagine all of this… but digital.
Because... e-ticketing will not fix torn seats. It will not deep-clean a bus. It will not replace vehicles that should have been enjoying retirement by now.
And it will definitely not escort cockroaches off the premises.
Technology can upgrade how we pay, yes. But it cannot upgrade neglect.
If we truly want a transport system that works, then the basics cannot be treated like optional extras.
Regular inspections must actually inspect. Cleanliness should not be a surprise feature.
And operators must be held to standards that respect the thousands of people who use these buses daily.
Because at the end of the day, we are looking for dignity. So yes, bring on the e-ticketing.
We will tap. We will scan. But as we do, can someone also make sure the seat I’m tapping into isn’t already occupied…by a cockroach?
