#tedxdar

 Street Level: A collection of drawings and creative writing inspired by Dar es Salaam named a 2012 Honor Book for Older Readers by Children’s Africana Book Awards Committee.

Come out to Busboys & Poets Bookstore 14TH & V Streets, NW Washington, DC on Thursday Nov 1st at 6:30PM for a book signing and to hear the author talk!

TEDxDar - Modesta Mahiga - Tanzania as an Economic Powerhouse (by TEDxTalks)

My article on last November's TEDxDAR and the global phenomenon of TED is now up over at VijanaFM. Here is a little teaser: 

In 2009, to open TED up even more, the 'principals' introduced a new concept: TEDx. These events, while still retaining the spirit of a TED conference, would be independently organized. “It wasn’t clear at all that it would work,” Chris Anderson, the curator of TED, who bought it from Mr. Wurman in 2002 for his non-profit organization The Sapling Foundation, told The New York Times. “How do you avoid damaging the TED brand? Can you package TED in a box?”, he asked.

Rather than damage the brand, the introduction of TEDx has globalised it. Since 2009, there have been thousands of TEDx events across the globe. In East Africa, there was TEDxKibera two years ago and every three Saturdays a month, at TEDxCinemaNairobi, attendees watch TEDTalks on a big screen and discuss what they’ve seen.  

And in 2010, TEDx came to Dar es Salaam.

The inaugural TEDxDAR proved a hit. The theme of 'What Would Nyerere Do?' resonated with attendees and provoked wide-ranging discussions in the blogosphere. But this year’s TEDxDAR is when the event truly came to its own.

To read more, please go here. 

It was a mixture of big ideas, personal narratives and activism.

What is your big idea, asked January Makamba, the Bumbuli CCM member of parliament. 'Mine is SAMENESS', Mr. Makamba told the audience at TEDxDAR. 

What did he mean?

Tanzania has a young and growing population. However, the country is becoming increasingly divided along class lines. Data tell us that a typical Tanzanian is a 17 year old young woman who lives in the rural areas. Zawadi, as Mr. Makamba named her, is most likely a farmer, under-educated, doesn't own a mobile phone, walks everywhere, will marry at 19 to a man who is at least 5 years older, have a baby at 19.5.

But how many in the audience can identify with Zawadi, asked Mr. Makamba. Not many.

A typical TEDxDAR attendee lives in an urban setting. Vanessa, as Mr. Makamba called her, is guaranteed a university education, probably drives her own car, has multiple mobile phones, will likely work a non-farm job, will get married at 23 to a man at least two years older, have a first child at 23.5.

Majority of Tanzanians are more like Zawadi than they are like Vanessa. And trends suggest that Vanessa will continue to get richer while Zawadi is becoming poorer.

That is the state of the way we live now. 

Mr. Makamba then asked another question: How possible is it for Zawadi to get to Vanessa's level? And, in the larger scheme of things, is that even desirable?

'My presentation has been about consumption,' declared Mr. Makamba (You can find a copy of the presentation here). At the core of his talk lies this question: how can we achieve economic development for Zawadi and others like her without exhausting our resources? After all, the elevation of her standard of living will mean an increase in her consumption power. She will need more energy (electricity, fuel), water, food, demand a better education and all the luxuries currently enjoyed by the Vanessa's of this world. What will happen when the poor 80% come to enjoy similar lifestyles of the rich 20%? Will it be sustainable? Can we achieve economic development without exhausting our resources? Will SAMENESS actually destroy us?

This is the profound ethical question that Mr. January Makamba posed at TEDxDAR. Zinjanthropus's spirit connects us all. It is what makes us all, despite our diversity, the same. But to return to that original state of SAMENESS, we may destroy ourselves. Food for thought the audience will do well to ponder.

Creativity is subversive

'[We are] the only country in the world that believes you increase education by reducing books.' This sobering conclusion about the state of Tanzania's educational system was delivered by Mr. Richard Mabala, a writer and former teacher. In a sustained critique that was interrupted several times by raucous applause, he bemoaned what he termed the death of the imagination in our public schools.

'We all start with creativity,' he said. Unfortunately, the way children are taught in this country stifles creativity rather than cultivate it. Sciences are deemed to be worthier endeavors than the arts. But for Mr. Mabala, 'how can you imagine a new science, if you don't have imagination?'

Schools are not the only ones undervaluing the creative arts, Mr. Mabala said. Parents, too, tend to look at literature, for example, as a less valuable pursuit. Mr. Mabala related an anecdote to illustrate this point. He once met a guy at a bar who was familiar with his work. The gentleman, while an admirer, complained that Mr. Mabala's books were too expensive and kept asking for a discount all the while buying him one beer after another. 

Furthermore, children are forced to conform to what, he called, 'the tyranny of the message.' The question of what is it good for dogs young people whenever they attempt to do things that go against the grain. Education is viewed entirely in Utilitarian terms, suggested Mr. Mabala. 'The beauty of storytelling, [for example] the beauty of language is unfortunately reduced to the simplistic of 'what we learn' from stories,' he said.

The root of this creative stagnation, Mr. Mabala argued, can be traced back to this proclamation by the late Mwalimu Nyerere's: 'Education is the transmission of knowledge and skills from one generation to the next.' This is a conservative intellectual worldview that rewards conformism and punishes creativity, said Mr. Mabala.

Mr. Mabala also touched on the issue of language. Teaching kids in a language they don't understand kills of creativity, he said. Having a primary education taught in Kiswahili and then change the mode of instruction to English at secondary level is unnecessarily confusing. 'Japan do not study in English but they are one of the leaders in technology,' said Mr. Mabala.

Mr. Mabala was preaching to the choir and he certainly got them singing. But his talk lacked any big idea to change the status quo. His suggestion that we abolish schools and replace them with community center was unrealistic and lacked the seriousness the subject demanded.

Following Mr. Mabala were two personal narratives that demonstrated the sense of what is possible through perseverance and dogged determination.

'Better to be a pilot than the pretty attendant'

Susan Mashibe, challenged stereotypes of what a woman can aspire to in the aviation industry. 'I once saw off my parents  who [were] flying to Dar es Salaam. I was sad and it was then than I thought if I became a pilot they will never leave me,' she said.  

At 19, Miss Mashibe got her opportunity and travelled to the US to pursue her ambition. For her it was always 'better to be a pilot than the pretty attendant.' However, Miss Mashibe struggled. Her English was poor to the extent that she was compelled to take a leave of absence from her classes to better improve her language skills (an interesting counterpoint to Mr. Mabala's insistence to have the mode of instruction in schools be in Kiswahili). While learning English, Miss Mashibe also studied aircraft maintenance. She became an engineer. It was her work as a aircraft maintenance engineer that came to finance her flight training.

Upon graduating, she was ready to start a career as an airline pilot. But the 9/11 attacks sent the US aviation industry into a tailspin and in the process curtailed her dream. Rather than wait, she came back to Tanzania and founded TanJet, a corporate aviation firm and Kilimanjaro Aviation Logistic Center, which processes clearances for private jets throughout Africa. Her companies contribute over half a billion Tshs in corporate taxes.

But she hasn't stopped there. A very active philanthropist, Miss Mashibe mentors and also sponsors her old school.

Recently, she was chosen to be a World Economic Forum Young Global Leader and in August, The East African named Miss Mashibe one of its 43 most influential women in the region. 

The story of Miss Mashibe is compelling in the Tanzanian context in its unabashed promotion of private sector success. At a time of continuing Nyerere nostalgia and a clamoring for the golden days of Ujamaa, this was refreshing and, yes, inspiring.  

The romanticisation of Nyerere also took a hit in John Stephen Akhwari's talk. The former marathoner's personal story of his life as a sportsman in 1960s-70s Tanzania conjured up a vivid narrative of life in that era. The Mikocheni Report does a good job of summarizing his talk: 

[Mr.] Akwari...finished a marathon in spite of his injuries during the 1968 Olympics. [Asked by reporters why he continued running even though he was hurt] he said, 'My country did not send me to Mexico to start the race. They sent me to finish it." Just about anyone can start a race and anyone can be a winner. But to finish the world's most difficult footrace on principle, with a torn up knee? That's a whole other level of grit. We just don't make them like this anymore*.

His life makes for a good story, but I realized that the first few statements sum it up completely: one of 16 children, he was sent to school because he hated herding cattle and simply wouldn't. Stubborn kid. Look where it got him: a lifetime of sports, comptition, and the kind of feat that reminds us that once upon a time being an Olympian required something that no amount of sport science can help you with.

One little anecdote from Mr. Akhwari stood out for me. Here is VijanaFM recounting of it: 

One of the startling stories [Mr. Akhwari] told us was that he won a check for $1000 for a competition held in Greece. Upon return to Tanzania he had a photo shoot with the then Minister of Sports & Cultural affairs where he held up the check in front of the camera. As soon as the photo shoot was over the Minister grabbed the check and told John to visit him the next day. John out of respect did not make a fuss and decided to return the next day. The minister refused to return the check and even after repeated attempts at talking to the Minister himself and through others he was unsuccessful ,the money disappeared.

This was in 1963, two years after independence. So for all those out there going on about the golden age of Tanzania, it turns out that the good old days, weren't, really. 

The last two talks came from activists. Leila Sheikh, a researcher and self-proclaimed feminist. discussed the issue of sex workers in Tanzania. The theologian and journalist Evans Rubaru provided a forceful critique of the mining industry. Taha Jiwaji over at VijanaFM has a concise write-up of their presentations.

The day ended with a lovely performance by the legendary Taarab Singer, Bi Kidude. Accompanied by the Bagamoyo-based guitarist Ashimba, Bi Kidude delivered wonderful acoustic versions of her famous tunes. The Zanzibari Diva treated the audience to her classic love songs: 'Muhogo wa Jangombe', and  'Ya Laiti'. Singing in Kiswahili and Arabic, Bi Kidude injected a quintessential 'Uswahili' note to TEDxDAR, a glorious way to finish what was a riveting day.

We started the day wondering about who killed Zinjanthropus and we left thinking how were going to resurrect him. Or at the very least save Homo Sapiens.