Dear haven of peace, must Mama always blow the whistle?

DAR ES SALAAM: HER Excellency Mama recently called a spade a spade, then understandably wondered why that same spade was not being used to remove the mountains of rubbish blocking Dar’s drainage systems.

Her warnings about the impending El Niño rains were not wrapped in diplomatic cotton wool.

The October-to-January rainy season, she cautioned, could transform the city’s filth from an everyday embarrassment into a lethal publichealth hazard.

Dar, our celebrated Haven of Peace, was therefore ordered to clean its house before the heavens opened their taps.

Immediately, the great national hobby of responding only to presidential instructions began. Jackets were adjusted.

Convoys were fuelled. Reflective coats were removed from government cupboards.

Cameras were summoned. Officials, arms akimbo, stared sternly at rubbish heaps that had enjoyed diplomatic immunity for months, as if they have suddenly discovered that: hee! kumbe Dar is full of rubbish. Drains that had been quietly digesting plastic bottles since three previous rainy seasons were surrounded by important people pointing fingers.

Arms akimbo… Then Mama raised another delicate national matter: why do so many leaders carry generous pot bellies and should they not do something about them? That was when the operation acquired two fronts.

Leaders now had to remove rubbish from the city and excess luggage from their waistlines. Dar es Salaam was expected to lose tonnes and so were its officials.

The brand-new VP opened the season with an impromptu visit to Pugu Kinyamwezi, which reportedly receives about 4,000 tonnes of rubbish every day.

Four thousand tonnes! At that rate, Pugu Kinyamwezi is no longer a dumping site. It is a republic with its own population, borders, constitution and foreign policy.

Soon, some of the garbage may demand a constituency and send an MP to Dodoma. One cannot help wondering where Dar es Salaam’s age-old grand plans for a waste-recycling plant disappeared to.

Perhaps they, too, are buried somewhere beneath those 4,000 tonnes arriving daily. Not to be left behind, the ever-charming Dar RC reportedly presented himself at the gym.

This was a wise tactical move. When the Commander-in-Chief mentions uncollected rubbish and pot bellies in the same national address, a clever officer does not waste time asking which instruction concerns him most.

He attacks both. So, Mheshimiwa RC began negotiations with his sagging kafriji. We wish the talks every success.

But here lies the difficulty: a treadmill cannot repair a drainage channel. Twenty press-ups cannot fill a pothole and a magnificent set of abdominal muscles will not relocate illegally parked lorries.

One may emerge from the gym shaped like an action-film hero, only to discover that the city outside still resembles the location where the villain detonated everything.

Poor Chalamila. One would not volunteer to wear his shoes at this particular time, especially if those shoes must walk through Dar after twenty minutes of rain.

The city has many unfinished conversations waiting for him. There are blocked drains, chaotic markets, uncollected rubbish and roads whose potholes have developed potholes of their own, courtesy of the city’s celebrated road-repair method.

That is, they cut a neat triangular hole in the tarmac, sprinkle a little dust around it – not gravel and bitumen – and disappear kimoja! We call these holes “samosas” because of their shape, although real samosas are at least filled, while our road samosas remain empty, yawning and hungry for ages.

Leave them for half a rainy season and they graduate into swimming pools. After a full season, Google Maps should recognise them as inland lakes.

It is encouraging that Dar now plans to introduce a permanent waste-management framework requiring every household to keep at least two bins for separating waste at source.

Replacing its occasional clean-up campaigns with a policy-backed system also deserves applause. So does educating residents before enforcing penalties against illegal dumping.

Municipal cleaning contractors have reportedly been given three months to replace manual sweeping with modern mechanical equipment.

Waste containers are expected at bus terminals, schools, hospitals, places of worship and other public spaces.

Private investors are also being sought to establish plants capable of turning municipal waste into cooking gas and electricity. Excellent ideas. A full plate of excellent ideas. But Dar es Salaam has eaten excellent ideas before.

The city’s problem has rarely been a shortage of plans, launches, committees, directives or colourful dustbins unveiled before cameras.

The problem is what happens after the cameras leave. Why must we wait until El Niño begins clearing its throat in the Indian Ocean before remembering the drains?

Why must Mama point at the rubbish before regional and municipal authorities can smell it? Why must a remark from Ikulu send leaders running to gyms as though waistlines had only just been invented?

Does a pot belly become unhealthy only after State House notices it? Does rubbish become dangerous only when El Niño applies for a visa?

What happens if the rains forget to arrive? Will the machines be parked, the reflective jackets returned to storage and the two household bins quietly converted into containers for storing rice and charcoal?

And what guarantees do residents have that this operation will not follow the familiar national cycle: presidential instruction, emergency meeting, inspection tour, strong warning, group photograph, fading enthusiasm and complete amnesia?

That is the real question. That is why Dar es Salaam has regional, municipal, ward and street leadership. If garbage must first appear in a presidential speech before it is collected, and leaders must wait for El Niño before clearing drains, then waste management has become foreign policy.

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Mheshimiwa Chalamila should therefore publish a simple weekly city scorecard. Which municipality collected how many tonnes?

Which drains were cleared? Which potholes were properly repaired? Which contractor failed? Not forgetting which ward performed well and which official is warming an office chair while the rubbish outside starts a family?

Make surprise inspections genuinely surprising. Do not announce that the RC will arrive next Tuesday at ten o’clock. Arrive at half-past six in the morning, when the truth has not yet brushed its teeth.

Most importantly, cleaning Dar es Salaam must become like brushing one’s teeth and not an emergency operation conducted because Mama raised concern.

A healthy city, like a healthy body, requires routine. One photographed gym session cannot defeat a pot belly accumulated through years of dedicated service to chipsi, nyama choma and sitting allowances.

Likewise, one photographed inspection cannot defeat rubbish accumulated through years of weak planning, unreliable collection and selective enforcement.

Both the city and the waistline require daily discipline, regular measurement and fewer excuses. So, Mheshimiwa Chalamila, please continue going to the gym.

Dar es Salaam sincerely wishes your kafriji a peaceful and dignified retirement. But after the treadmill, kindly put on gumboots. Walk the drains.

Count the trucks. Inspect the roadworks. Chase the recycling-plant dream out of the rubbish heap. Name the lazy contractors and praise the hardworking officers.

Give deadlines teeth and make the weekly scorecard public. Then build a system strong enough to continue whether El Niño comes or changes its mind, or whether Mama speaks or remains silent.

And whether television cameras are present or have gone to cover something more exciting.

Because when the rain finally arrives, water will not respect titles, convoys, press releases or gym memberships. Water does not read speeches. It simply follows the route we either cleared or once again forgot to clear.