Fuelling the ‘Katiba’ fire – unwittingly

Calls for a new Union constitution in Tanzania continue to be heard, mostly from wanazuoni (intellectuals), civil society organisations (CSOs), the political opposition and amorphous interest groups.
These include musician activist Vitali Maembe, who was arrested in Bagamoyo, Coast Region, on November 2, 2021, over his latest song Kaizari (Ceasar), released on September 6 this year.
The more we harass the political opposition and put them in the Segerea guest house-cum-Segerea remand prison, the more the call for a new constitutional dispensation continues to catch on like a prairie fire in the Serengeti Plains.
This past week, the chief newsmaker(?) in Parliament was at it again. Our guardian of the Union legislature was fulminating full-blast, first warning women in public office against pomposity.
As if it is only women who use public office like a weapon of mass destruction against the rest of us, the man – whose first name is biblical – proceeds to use the beautiful Kiswahili language to threaten a certain “General without an army” – but who is influential in Tanzania’s world, “Ulimwengu” – would be dealt with (kushughulikiwa) in and outside the august House!
Swahili is a beautiful language. But in Uganda, folks associate the language with terror, danger, destruction and plunder. In the 1970s – before many of my readers were born – Ugandan military cadres used the Swahili language as they sorted out dictator Idi Amin Dada.
Actually, Amin and his aides were the ones who gave Swahili a bad name in their endless pillaging and destruction to keep in power the self-styled “His Excellency, President for Life, Field Marshal Al Haji Doctor Idi Amin Dada, VC, DSO, MC, Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Seas; Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa in General and Uganda in Particular…!”
So, why would a top-echelon Tanzanian leader with a first Christian name threaten a fellow Tanzanian that atashughulikiwa – he will be severely dealt with accordingly?
Why tell him that he would meet with untold consequences… And “we will not be responsible for anything that happens to him,” the former says, oozing self-confidence?
Now imagine a “General without an army” walking around in Masaki, Dar es Salaam, and then suddenly tripping on a pothole that the authorities over-neglected – and ends up in a hospital ward where unscrupulous medics friendly to the chief newsmaker in Parliament could, would… Well, never mind that for now!
That Swahili is a beautiful language tells you how the ominous words said by a powerful voice of the august House – or, indeed, any other powerful (real or imagined), person – can be deadly. Our “General without an Army” can decide to retreat to Ethiopia to avoid unknown consequences from threatening words which are spoken in his country of birth.
If the “General without an Army” had uttered more or less similar threats, chances are that he would have been drugged – I mean dragged – from his home (not just summoned, mark you) to the ’Bay area police station to explain.
Meanwhile, he would be cooling his heels in remand cells where suspected thieves and murderers are confined in small spaces, social-distancing against Covid-19 infection notwithstanding.
The call for a new constitutional dispensation blazes relentlessly because it is being given impetus, drive and fuel by persons with Biblical names and names of other faiths, who feel that they are in a position to ensure their daily bread – but hiding behind the false belief that theirs is a quest for greater national good.
Tanzania is not an island, and its 1977 Union Constitution, as amended from time to time, has continued to serve us well – thanks to all those who conceived and formulated it.
But, if it must be told: then all those who protect the status quo under the guise of maendeleo kwanza (development first) are unknowingly fuelling the clamour for a new constitutional dispensation – and not otherwise.