Matatus (mini-buses)

Mini-buses are typically ancient cars, licensed to carry 14 passengers that often accommodate about twenty two people (on the car seats or folding stools), their belongings and various small animals. If you don’t like this it’s a good idea to sit in the back of the vehicle, since usually most people are squeezed in the first two three rows. Behind the driver’s seat, on many cars, there is a small TV playing loud East African music and soap-operas. These are sturdy cars but you will often feel each and every bump in the road given the aggressive style of driving in Kampala and the poor infrastructure. The following rules apply to all rides on a mini-bus:

Confusingly, matatus are known as taxis in Uganda. Each matatu has a driver and a conductor, both of whom will shout the destinations of their vehicle out the windows. If you don’t understand what they are saying, simply ask one of them for your destination and you’ll be told yes or no.

Except for the terminal station, mini-buses do not stop on a regular basis (though they tend to follow relatively preset routes). As such, when the mini-buses approach the stop you are at, raise your hand in the air to signal your interest to hop on board. If the car doesn’t stop, it means it has reached its (i)llegal capacity. Do not despair; the next car will typically arrive in less than 10 minutes.

If you are interested in getting off the mini-bus, you must yell at the driver or conductor the name of the street / point of interest where you want  the bus to stop (if the mini-bus is full, and no one calls out a particular stop, then the driver will simply drive past it).  Though most drivers in Kampala speak a little bit of English, this is not always the case. Consequently, it might be useful to remember the local word for stop – Kuacha. The proper way to ask for the mini-bus to stop would be: “Kuacha Sheridan hotel” or “Kuacha Kilimanjaro Road.” The English word for a stop in Kampala is “Stage.” You can say “Stage” at any point and the driver will stop within 100 feet.

If you plan to take the mini-bus, it is important to carry small change with you. The driver’s assistant (who will normally sit against the sliding door, collecting the fare) often deals with paper-money no higher than 5000 shillings (US$2.5). If you offer a banknote larger than that, the driver might be forced to stop in front of a shop to allow the conductor to run inside and get some change. This will derail the ride and will reflect negatively on you as a passenger. Given the fact that the city fare ranges between 1000-1500 shillings, it is considered the passenger’s duty to have obtained change prior to hoping on the matatu.

You must always pay the conductor when you exit.

If you decide to hop on the mini-bus, you are automatically giving your informed consent to interact with other Ugandans. Given the sardine-in-a-box physical proximity to other passengers, people will often wish to interact with you and chit-chat about your experiences and your visit to Uganda. Not interacting with locals is seen as patronizing them – a highly charged emotional reaction given the country’s colonial past. Therefore, if you are not willing to speak with locals taking the mini-bus is not advisable.

Try not to fart, burp or yawn on the mini-bus. Any detectable bodily function exercised on the mini-bus is considered highly inappropriate.

It is customary to compliment passengers transporting animals on the mini-bus. “What a lovely pig/goat/rooster you have there” can be an excellent conversation starter.

If you have been talking to a local for more than ten minutes (especially to the young folk) he/she might be asking for your email address. This is not an attempt on behalf of Ugandans to try to scam you at a later stage. Having “friends abroad” is a sign of social distinction. As such, simply being in touch with you from time to time represents a type of symbolic capital locals like to tap into.

Speaking on the phone is considered inappropriate on the mini-bus (not to mention, unfeasible given the loud music playing in background). It is inappropriate because it might prevent other passengers from successfully announcing their stop to the bus driver. Similarly, reading a book or a newspaper or listening to music are all considered improper activities on the matatu.

Do not consume any beverages or food items while on board of the mini-bus. The food smells would soon be felt throughout the car while the bumpy roads will ensure that any drink you carry will inevitably be spilled.

Do not take pictures while on board of the mini-bus. Taking photos without permission might cause a visceral reaction from other passengers either because they might consider the act as an intrusion on their personal space or because of culturally-defined local moralities (some passengers might think you are attempting to steal their souls when taking their pictures.)

Keep your belongings in front of you and ideally empty your pockets before riding the matatu and put the items in your bag/backpack which should then be placed on your lap for the duration of the trip. Pickpocketting is a common occurrence on the mini-bus.

Do not object to people opening the windows next to them. It is a common practice in Uganda, one which is ultimately preferable given the dry-hot climate in the city.

Bear in mind that all it takes is for one person on board to not have taken a shower in order for your olfactory functions to attempt to shut down.  Do not express your disproval either vocally or through your facial expressions. Chances are everyone felt the Hellish Breeze of Dawn that accompanies a certain passenger. However, it is understood that other people might just get back from work on a hot summer day (which is basically every day of the year!); or that other impediments might have prevented a person from washing him/herself prior to the ride. If you feel a particular odor is about to scratch your soul, simply open a window or ask the person next to you to do so. It is unlikely anyone would ever object to that request.

Boda-bodas

There are over 20,000 boda-boda drivers in Kampala waiting for clients on a daily basis. The motorcycles range is size and shape and can accommodate from one to three passengers in addition to the driver.  The boda-bodas are, at once, the most unsafe means of transportation in Uganda and the most commonly used. Given the congested traffic in a city designed to accommodate half a million people which has an estimated population of three million, using boda-boda services is the only way you can get from one part of the city to another one, in record time.  Tourists are encouraged to try the boda-boda out, for the sake of the experience, but are recommended to use matatus or special hires if possible.  

There are no pre-set prices for hiring a boda-boda driver. As a tourist you will always be overcharged. The question is not whether you can get a fair price, but by how much you will be overcharged. The cost of driving a boda-boda for the driver is, on average, 500 shillings per mile. You should expect paying at least three times that much, as a tourist.

Always negotiate the fare at the point of departure, having in mind that haggling for the fare is not only expected, but required (for the same trip, the author of this guide has received more than 40 different price demands from boda-boda drivers ranging from 50 cents to 100 dollars). The fool is not the one who demands a high price, but the one who honors it (Romanian proverb).

The rule of the negotiating your price is simple. Drivers will always agree to a profit of 1000 shillings (fifty cents) per mile, probably even less. Therefore before scheduling a boda-boda trip, you should check Google maps for the estimated distance between the departure and the destination points so as to have in mind the price you should be paying. For example, a five mile trip would require you to pay 500 x 5 for the gas plus 5 x 1000, the driver’s share, or, no more than 7500 shillings (as of 2012); add 2000 shillings to the price if you are sharing the motorcycle with a friend.

After you have determined the price for the trip, and when you reach the place where the boda-boda drivers are stationed, you can either ask for an estimate from a driver, or simply tell him your price (drivers are always men). If he declines your offer, move to the next one. If five drivers decline your offer, simply start walking towards your destination. 9 out of 10 times, one of the drivers who initially declined your offer will drive in your direction and let you know that he agrees to your price.

Helmets are only required for motorcycle drivers in Uganda, not for passengers. Most of the drivers will not even have one for themselves. Consequently, unless you see two helmets attached to the boda-boda, you should not ask for one.

It is perfectly reasonable to ask your driver to slow down or go faster, according to your wishes. They will accommodate your request either way.

If you wish to avoid haggling on your next boda-boda ride, you should take the phone number of the driver that gave you a reasonable price and drove you safely to your destination. Drivers are always in search for regular customers and they will offer you discounted fares if you call them back. Allow for 30 minutes between the time you make the call and the time of departure for a new destination so that the driver can get to your location.

Boda-boda drivers are also known for propositioning potential customers, especially tourists. If you are not interested, simply decline their offer politely (“no, thank you”) and they will usually not continue bothering you.

Men usually ride the boda-bodas facing forward while women are expected to ride side saddle. Though some locals might make fun of females riding the boda-boda facing forward, they tend to understand that tourists have other habits / cultural norms.

Special hires

Rules of engaging with private taxi drivers are the same as for the boda-boda drivers. Almost no taxis in town have meters. This means you must negotiate the price at the point of departure.

You are allowed to consume food and beverages while taking a taxi ride.

You are also allowed to smoke if you may choose to do so inside a taxi, provided that you lower the window.

Make sure, once more, that you know where you are going before negotiating the fare you will pay to a taxi driver. A trip in the city should not exceed 20000 shillings (approximately US$10). However, taxi drivers in Kampala are known for taking you in circles, around the city, only to drop you off at your destination, half an hour later, less than two miles away from the point of departure.

Cesaria Evora – Besame Mucho

Cesaria Evora and Salif Keita – Yamore

Journalists enter the profession with the hope that their reporting will change the world, even in small ways, one day at a time. We feel it’s our duty to report on the lives, actions and inactions, of those we meet or hear of. We correctly determine that truly remarkable stories often remain untold and that if we don’t speak about them, then there’s a good chance they will be lost forever in the nebulous track of history.

We feel the urgent desire to bring the ardent, sometimes inconvenient truths to the people that read the stories in the comfort of their houses. We sometimes believe (maybe in a naïve manner) that for one story, for one person, we represent their only chance of having their voices heard. And from this belief stems our vocation – that of news messengers, of storytellers who adamantly believe that that real life is often more impressive, more challenging and outstanding than fiction. That the world doesn’t have to imagine heroes and great characters but simply look around and find them in our backyard.

War journalism, a risky business with few personal satisfactions for the journalists embarking on this mission, involves the type of calling that often goes beyond the responsibility of the job. It comes with real and tangible risks, it requires journalists to go past the boundaries of safety and comfort in hopes that their work product will mean something. That it will stand witness long after we are gone from this world. That it will talk of the atrocities and injustices that hundreds of thousands of people are going through when the rest of the world graciously drinks its cup of coffee in the morning.

Tim Hetherington and Chris Hondros followed their stories to some of the most dangerous parts of the world. They went to those deserts, slums and terrorist-ridden areas which, as some cynics often argue, even God forgot about. They were armed with only their cameras and their belief that what they do will mean something, somewhere, some day.

Their deaths come with an unsettling feeling that many of us, hearing of what happened to them, have suddenly experienced. And it causes me more pain and discontent since I believe that most likely by next month their deaths will be forgotten. That, as viewers, we will be enchanted or entrapped in following another story, another controversy or shenanigan carefully orchestrated but one political party or another.

One could only hope that what these remarkable journalists left behind – thousands of visual masterpieces, documentations and records of the human suffering people in other parts of the world are experiencing – would one day be remembered for what they tell us both about the subjects captured on tape but also about those who stood still and brave behind the cameras.

As a journalist, I instinctively hope that the deaths of Tim Hetherington and Chris Hondros were not in vain. But I also know that the products of their work are the long-lasting testimony of lives well lived.

What has been a subject of contention among scientists has been the degree to which language patterns follow the same rules. If it did, then there would still be African traces in the languages spoken today which would suggest a new level of connection among people all over the world. Quentin D. Atkinson, a New Zeeland linguistic researcher has undertaken the task of proving that there is an African origin of most modern human languages.

Mr. Atkinson analyzed the phonemes – distinct units of sounds that differentiate words – from 504 contemporary spoken languages. In an article published in the Science Magazine on April 15^th, the researcher has argued that there is a “serial founder effect” model of linguistic expansion from Africa. More specifically, that the distinct units of sound from all these languages can be traced to a point of origin on the African continent.

The conclusion of the article is quite simple yet of crucial importance to all of us. The fact that to some small degree all people share the same language with their African ancestors suggests that people all over the world are intrinsically connected to each other not only from a genetic point of view but also from a cultural perspective.

In the world of Quentin D. Atkinson (quote taken from a recent article in Business Week):

“”If our languages can be traced to Africa, and language is a marker of cultural ancestry, then . . . we are a family in a cultural as well as a genetic sense,” ”

You may access the pdf file of Dr. Atkinson’s article here.

The Tourism-led Migration is a result of the spike in international tourism and the relaxation of regulations regarding tourists traveling around the world (or at least in some localized regions). Basically, what the authors mean by this is that Tourism-led Migration is a process caused by the demand for seasonal labor in the tourist industry in some select destinations. For example, during the summer, hotels and tourist attractions in France might need extra employees. Given the fact that France is a member of the European Union, a business entrepreneur in France could afford, and would very likely hire cheap labor from Central or Eastern Europe and, more often than not, will do it at a cost lower than the local cost of labor.

Migration-led Tourism refers primarily to expats who travel back to their countries of origin, thus contributing to the local economic affairs and tourism industry as well as generating remittances for the family members left behind.

Some of the key suggestions of the report are as follows:

Migration-led Tourism can contribute to poverty alleviation.

Migrants’ remittances represent a critical instrument for enhancing tourism-related investments in the origin countries.

The lower the level of development in the origin countries, the greater the contribution of migration.

Diaspora networks represent a critical factor in development.

The report also deals with a series of study cases where the interplay of migration and tourism is analyzed. The countries considered in this report are: China, India, Japan, Philippines, USA, France, Germany, Turkey, and the United Kingdom. There is also a section on Central America.

It’s a pretty light reading, primarily building on existing literature, but it does at the very least suggests that the connection between tourism and migration needs to be further analyzed.

Dar es Salaam is a city that was designed to accommodate roughly 300,000 inhabitants. There are more than 3.3 million people living in Dar es Salaam at this time so one can certainly see why traffic is such a pain. Add to that the fact that many streets are unnamed, that urban development followed no structural plan but a constant ad-hoc expansion of the city and then one can certainly become a little bit more optimistic: it could have been much worse than it actually is. Another issue that needs to be taken into consideration is the narrowness of the roads in the city. Many of these streets can only accommodate two lanes but if you take into consideration the cars parked on both sides of the street at all time, driving in Dar es Salaam is like being an overweight mole in the ground trying to constantly squeeze in through the tunnels that can no longer accommodate the animal.

The local authorities have recently announced that starting as of next year, things will change. An Italian company has been chosen to carry out an urban development project meant to ease the traffic and create new arteries throughout the city. Pompously called the Dar es Salaam Transport Policy and System Development Master Plan, the estimated 3 billion-project that is co-financed by the World Bank is assumed to take at least five years to complete (call me cynical, but i will eat my hat if the project is actually completed in time!).  The plan was designed by the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA) and it looks strikingly similar to an earlier plan made by a bunch of Canadian consultants back in 1979, a plan which failed to be financed by the government because Tanzania had to channel its resources at the time towards ousting Idi Amin from power in neighboring Uganda (an endeavor which cost the Nyerere government at the time more than 500 million dollars).

According to the Citizen:

Apart from the flyover bridges, it proposes widening the main arterial highways – Morogoro, New Bagamoyo, Nyerere and Kilwa roads – and also constructing roads parallel to Ali Hassan Mwinyi the Selandar Bridge area, as well as near Morogoro Road, to relieve some of the bottlenecks at rush hours. JICA also recommends revamping public transportation through more effective regulation, and to encourage more commuters to use public transportation rather than personal vehicles.

Typical Dar es Salaam road

I’m not an urban developer, but I have spent countless hours in traffic in Dar es Salaam. And during those hours the only thing I would think of was precisely how congested the city was. And then the one thing that troubled my imaginary plan to redesign the city were the private businesses and residential areas that stand against such an ambitious plan. I don’t even think that 3 billion dollars would be enough to give a fair compensation to the people who reside along the main arteries in Dar es Salaam which this plan attempts to redesign. In addition, I agree with the plan’s assertion that some arteries should be assigned as expressways, but I fear that there aren’t enough roads in the city to allow for the reservation of particular streets as “heavy-loaded roads”.

Changing gears for a second, I find it quite interesting that the project was assigned to an Italian company. Italian private entrepreneurs have become a part of African economies in a rather silent and unceremonious way. From various Italian NGOs and hostels in Dar es Salaam, to the Italian tourist operators in Malindi (Kenya) and Kampala (Uganda) and in much of Southern Africa (I stayed at Italian guesthouses in Zambia, South Africa, Namibia and Mozambique over the last five years), Italian private ventures are everywhere in Africa. And, honestly, I don’t have a problem with that but I am quite surprised that very few people are actually analyzing these entrepreneurs. They seem to be discrete, cost-efficient and highly skilled, predominantly middle-aged men (a generalization I base solely on the Italian businesses I have been exposed to) and they are all seeing to their business relations, staying out of the political and public sphere. In addition, the two Italian businesses I know in Dar es Salaam are also very aware of the local customs and informal relations as their owners constantly pay off local policemen  to avoid harassment and constant raids. Without a doubt, this new master plan is the largest project assigned to an Italian private firm and I hope that more journalists and researchers find the time to look more into it, at the very least for information purposes. For now, however, I find that both the Italian communities in East Africa and the new master plan’s long-term consequences are severely under researched to the point of neglection. And that can’t really help anyone…

You can read more about the Dar es Salaam Transport Policy and System Development Master Plan here.

But what happens when it comes to the men’s social behavior? After all, a good physique denotes not only sexual prowess, but also aggression and promiscuity. After all, if one has access to the cookie jar, it’s unlikely that he will only eat one type of cookie every day.   Well, Dr DeBruine argues that the benefit of having a fit offspring exceeds that of having a stable partner. In other words, women in countries with poor health conditions would choose the hotter men despite the fact that the risk of them leaving is very high.

Now, in my own research I have witnessed some interesting things with regards to how men choose their sexual partners. For example, while doing research in Tanzania, I noticed that the men I talked to about sex and women more often than not had preferences very different from mine, preferences which, I would argue, were indeed related to the environment and the health issues related to Tanzania. For example, some of the men I interviewed expressed their preference for larger-than average women – or how some of them labeled traditionally built women. That obviously goes against Western standards of beauty, which I obviously share by virtue of my own upbringing, that a beautiful woman is generally a thin, tall woman with symmetrical features. How does one account for this difference? Well, one can always talk about cultural differences which are prone to exist. But there’s another explanation which was suggested to me by some of the Tanzanian men I talked to. They argued that thinness is generally associated with disease – HIV in particular, and as such it’s always better to date a larger woman. I’m not going to comment on this anymore because this was only a tangential aspect of my research but I think that both DeBruine and some of my respondents are to some extent suggesting the same thing – the environment and the health conditions of a particular place can and might in fact affect how men and women look at each other, as well as their sexual preferences.

To read the whole story in the Economist, click here.

Brain drain and Africa are old acquaintances. For as long as we have heard of post-colonial Africa, we’ve known of people leaving the continent, willingly or not (or better said because they had no other choice), in search for a better place. And the problem with a phenomenon like brain drain is that it is so overused in development/ political discourse that it somehow becomes meaningless. If you grew up hearing about, you would likely not pay attention to it. Or better said not internalize it as a real problem. But as it turns out, brain drain can have a direct impact on current affairs and, in some industries / business sectors, the effects of brain drain can be disastrous. For Africans and Westerners alike.

The East African ran a piece this week on flight controllers (the technicians who coordinate pilots for takeoff/ landing procedures). As it turns out, both in Kenya and Tanzania, flight controllers seem to be leaving the country for other regions and airlines. For various monetary reasons, the numbers of controllers have not been increased for quite a while. What’s the situation at right now? Uganda has 80 controllers, Tanzania 50 (for 12 airports) and Kenya 150 (to operate 8 airports).

To be an air traffic controller is no easy job. In fact, some consider this job to be one of the most demanding in the world because one employee has to take into account a very large number of variables in their daily work (there are so many things that can go wrong at once!). Combine that with the fact that this is a highly specialized and skilled job and you can certainly understand why a) East African air traffic controllers would like to leave the country and get a better salary (UK average per controller is 90,000 pounds a year) and b) how the rest of us interested in traveling to East Africa might somewhat be…screwed.

Sadly, Fassie had prematurely left this world in 2004, as a result of a cocaine overdose. The next year, given the popularity and the controversy of the singer, a documentary called “Brenda the DVD: the Brenda Fassie Story and Videos” was released.

The documentary is basically a combination of interviews and public appearances Fassie made over the previous ten years. After watching the 45 minute film, I thought it was fairly interesting simply because it allowed me to see a different Brenda Fassie than the one I was familiarized with by virtue of being a big fan of her music.

In the first part of the documentary, a young Brenda Fassie talks about how she ran away from Cape Town to Johannesburg. “To me, Johannesburg was the New York of South Africa,” confesses the singer.

Perhaps more important than the biographical information itself, the documentary allows us to get a glimpse at Fassie’s life philosophy. “I do everything now because I don’t know what tomorrow will bring.” Brenda Fassie was a pragmatic, calculated and extremely intelligent woman. She was ambitious, daring and loving. Despite her huge popularity (as the documentary reveals four out of the seven albums released by Fassie were voted the most popular albums in their year of release), she remained a humble, honest and inspirational figure.

Too many people forget where they are coming from once they become famous. Some of the scenes in the documentary, showing Brenda at her parent’s graves and in the poor neighborhoods of Cape Town where she grew up (albeit featuring her in a gorgeous car) showed that she had no intention to keep her humble beginnings hidden.

There isn’t much more to say about this documentary. Despite its informative value, the interviews and concert clips seem to be rushed together without an attempt to contextualize them so that we can actually get a comprehensive picture of who Brenda Fassie really was. So viewers are somewhat forced to create and project their own understanding of the singer and derive whatever they think is the value of watching this documentary.

Interesting trivia information: In 2001, when Brenda Fassie visited Tanzania, she needed a military escorts because of very high numbers of people who showed up to see her.

I rate this documentary 5/10.  But if you like Brenda Fassie’s music, this is as close as you can get to see the behind-the-scene artist.

Part of the documentary is available on youtube:

His first novel, the one I just finished reading, is called The Clothes of Nakedness. Set in urban Accra, the story follows four drinking companions and long-time friends, and their relationship with Mystique Mysterious, a shady character known for always getting what he wants. Mysterious makes a living by placing Accra residents in decently paid jobs while asking for a percentage of their monthly income in return. He is the stereotypical “big man”, who people fear and respect and never dare to challenge.

The four friends spend their nights drinking at Kill Me Quick, a local kiosk staffed by Efi, a young female entrepreneur. During most of the novel, some of the critical scenes happen at or around this bar.

Benjamin Kwakye has an extremely intriguing writing style. He creates parallel storylines that only interest briefly from time to time until they all converge towards the end of the book. As a writer, he is merciless. He doesn’t give the readers the romanticized pleasure of seeing the characters succeeding like in the typical Hollywood movie or cheaper by the dozen novels.

He takes what seems like a true and genuine slate of urban life and presents it, piecemeal, to the audience. While I felt someone bitter at the end of the book, I cannot express into words how much I appreciated his first novel. The author masters the art of slowly building up suspense only to lead the readers to an unexpected, if somewhat painful, conclusion.

Much of the plot is seen and discovered through Gabriel Bukari’s eyes, an out-of-work taxi driver who lives in a poor suburb of Accra with his wife Fati and his son Baba. After eight months of unemployment, the bar is his last refuge from the tragedy and urgency of daily life. That’s where he meets Mystique Mysterious and then his life will change forever.

Some of the recurring themes in The Clothes of Nakedness are poverty, ingenuity, urban life, youth, low-end economic exchanges, sexuality and, its sister, promiscuity (mostly surrounding one character who is constantly manipulated by the big man), family life, and socio-economic discrepancies.

Of particular interest to me was the crafting of the three main female characters: Efi, Fati and Adukwei. The first is the owner of Kill Me Quick, the second is Bukari’s wife, while the third is Baba’s love interest. The three women have many traits in common: they are intelligent, hard-working and adaptive, with a very clear sense of where they are situated in relation to the world they inhabit. Despite the fact that they might seem weak at times, the three women constantly exercise and express their agency in ways that it made me smile and nod in approval. To that end, Kwakye’s novel is a very historically accurate piece of work as every single episode in these women’s lives reminded me of the windows of opportunities and limitations that women have to deal with in Africa and beyond. This was one of those instances in which I almost felt like thinking about this novel in terms of both its literary value and its anthropological value.

The one criticism that I have about this book has to do with how the characters often speak in dialogues. In short, Benjamin Kwakye uses a very sophisticated vocabulary in his novel. Honestly, had I not taken the GRE exam and studied over two thousand words over the summer, I might have had to read the book with a dictionary on my side. And I spend at least 2-3 hours a day reading academic article and books, so I am generally used to a sophisticated vocabulary.  What feels however unnatural is that from time to time the characters themselves use words that you would probably only find in academic texts. That, to me, seemed a little forced as I cannot possibly imagine talking to a friend of mine in similar terms when we’re having a drink or walking on the street.

All I can say right now is that I’m looking forward to reading his second novel The Sun by Night, a book I am certain I will enjoy as much as the first one.

Lastly, I think it would be worth mentioning that The Clothes of Nakedness has won the 1999 Commonwealth Writers’ Prize for Best First Book (Africa Region) and has been adapted for radio as a BBC Play of the Week.  Rightfully so, I might add.