Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Yesterday I found the dhow yard deserted. A funeral in the village .There's nothing you can do about that. East Africans have 30 funerals per year on average, everyone costs one full day if you are lucky.
Today I found the workers with two unknown men. The showed me what looked like an identity card. Immigration. They wanted to see my passport.
I had just renewed my visa. I was highly suspicious. Who were these guys?
Come to my car, I told them.
There I took paper and pen, and said: let me write down your identity numbers.
They refused to show again their ID's.
They could be falsifications, robbers tried that one on me. That was a lie, but using fake officer's ID's is a common trick.
They refused.
I called their boss, Msellem, Chief Officer of Immigration, Mwanza region, whose number I have because he aspires to be a member of the Yacht Club.
My introductory conversation made me believe he was unaware of the operation, though of course any question to the effect of verifying such an embarrassing fact would be inappropriate to a person of Msellem's position. I gave one of the men to him.
I got my phone back and Msellem told me that they were his officers.
So I go home with them and show them my passport? I asked.
Yes, please do it.
I left the yard, followed by their pickup truck.
Don't do it, Gabriel shouted. They will rob you!
I reassured him I had got reliable information they were real officers. But I was delighted with the loudness of his voice. The officers will undoubtedly have heard it.
Just stay here, I said, on arrival at the parking place, I climb up the footpath to my house and return with my passport.
They refused.
You have my car!
They refused.
OK, you come.
After arrival near my house I said: gentlemen, my compound starts here. I am not allowed to leave anyone on it. Please stay on the road here, and I will come back with my passport.
I went up, took my passport and camera.
On return, I found them in my garden.
Normally, that would not be an issue, but this was of course an occasion in which I might intimidate them by saying they already had broken the law by refusing me to write down their identity and now they were without warrant, hence illegally on my compound.
The gentlemen were not impressed. They checked my passport, not noticing I took some pictures.

Picture: Monkeys in my passport. (pictures of similar monkeys).
For my apologies to real monkeys and the like click here.

After seeing my impeccable documents they called, to my surprise, Msellem and said I should report on the Immigration Office tomorrow. They would take my passport.
Sorry, an EU citizen is not allowed to leave his passport with others.
They refused to return it.
This refusal is your illegal act number three, I told them. We go to your office right now, I said, and you will have to give me my passport.
Back at the cars, they still persisted keeping my passport.
I called Msellem. Sorry to bother you again, Msellem, we are coming right now (a good thing to warn him because Immigration finds 15:00 hrs good for closing time). Your men have my passport and the laws of my country do not allow me to leave it with others.
Let me talk to them.
Yes boss.
I got phone and passport returned.
Off to the immigration office.
On arrival just after 15:00 hrs, my initial friend at the office, an officer called James, just parted with his car.
Hello James, who are these men? I asked pointing.
They are officers.
They are harassing me, I said, making clear to James I would solve this one myself. I just wanted him to see who were the ones.
James rode off.
On the way up the stairs of the building my two men got accompanied by what looked like their direct chief, and we entered Msellem's office.
I had heard Msellem being briefed in the corridor but not about what exactly and was curious what would follow. Would I get questions about a missing wife in a white pickup truck with blue tent near grocery U-turn?
Unlike previous occasions, Msellem now wore a splendid military uniform with many golden stripes and other colorful ornaments.
We have done an investigation on this man, the direct chief of my two monkeys said. This man has a business in Bwiru, he has invested in a dhow yard. He is selling many boats.
That of course, I pondered in silence, is of course a crime far worse than stealing a wife.
Mr. Msellem, could you introduce me to this man? I asked.
Eh, yes, I d' like you too meet Mr. Beta, and these are Mr. Phi and Mr. Kappa.
While Msellem was giving the names I shook hands with all of them and said to all of them at their turn: nice to meet you.
Then I said: I am only a customer of the dhow yard. I have ordered one boat only. The yard is owned by Daniel Lwitakubi, before him by his father, before his father by his grandfather, and I do not seriously believe the great grandfather was not building dhows at Bwiru.
My three monkeys kept straight. I was the owner and running the business.
Mr. Msellem, this boat will be my yacht, a yacht of the Mwanza Yacht Club. Do you call this investigation what you have been doing? I said to direct chief Beta. You were at the yard! Why didn't you ask them? Now you cause this man big problems, I said, pointing to Msellem.
What problems? Kappa asked rhetorically. This Daniel may have the papers, but you are owning and selling all these boats.
Msellem gets a phone call and leaves the room with his mobile.

Were will you go with that boat, Kappa asks.
At the Yacht Club, I answer, I will apply for a permanent visa. Except for this incident I love Tanzania.
It will be difficult for you now to get a permanent visa.
Not as difficult as it will now be for you to stay in your job.
I turned to Kappa's chief Beta: I do not understand why you were taking such a big risk. Why didn't you finish your research properly before starting this wild adventure to arrest me? You do not know me, you do not know whom I know and your idea I was running that yard was just some bad informer's guess which you did not check properly.

You have been talking? Msellem asked curiously on return.
Yes, I said, we have made some progress, and now we can make some more: Daniel has a registered company. I have a contract with that company for the boat, made by the lawyer's office of Masha (Masha, my lawyer's Faustin Malongo's boss, is in high politics in Tanzania, hence a man to fear).
Do you have it here? Msellem asks.
No Sir, but you can have a copy in twenty minutes.
Bring it tomorrow, Msellem says
Phi, Beta and Kappa tried to keep looking unimpressed. One of them: his boat is for business.
Is your boat for business? Msellem asked.
No Sir.
But what are you going to do with it?
It is for pleasure. Mwanza yacht club has almost twenty yachts of people who like to have a yacht. That is why they founded the club. The club will have one more.
When should the boat be handed over to you according to the contract?
29th of December Sir.
A complicated discussion in Kiswahili between Msellem and Beta, in which I hear the date of expiry of my present visa: 28th of December.
Do you think delivery will be on time? Msellem asks.
I doubt it Sir, I lie (I am sure it won't).
But I may not extend your visa, what are you going to do?
I am applying right now for sailing coach at Mwanza Yacht Club, I say. The club will support my application for a permanent visa.
If you get that job you will get a visa, Msellem says. But I cannot extend your present business visa.
I will be Mwanza Yacht Club staff, with an employee contract.
Be quick, Msellem says, the application should be in process before your present visa expires.
I was trying to find the board members on the club yesterday, I will try again today, I have made all necessary draft papers for them.

Kappa (white shirt on photo above) asks me to repeat my objections to how he and Phi treated me. Kappa's forehead still have deeply disturbed folds on display.
Having feared we would not come to the issue of their illegal behavior and prudence preventing me from raising it myself, I am of course delighted by Kappa's request.
Mr. Msellem, I say, I had decided not to start about this, and refrain from accusing anyone or even filing a complaint, but on the request of Mr. Kappa I will mention my objections. First, the officers refused to show their ID card for copying of its data. ID cards of course are for showing to persons approached and allowing them to remember their specifications. If ID cards would be secret, then what would be their use? We could solve the natural doubt this raised in me because the gentlemen had the good luck I had your phone number, I could let them talk to you and you confirmed they were really your officers.
What's the use of knowing ID card details if you cannot match it to what the person should look like? Phi objected.
I do agree you ID cards should carry pictures which they do not. But I solved that problem by taking some pictures of both of you.
Surprise, frowned faces.
When?
You did not notice, I said.
Phi and Kappa reassumed their faces of not being impressed.
Second, I continued, I told them I was not allowed to let them without warrant on the compound I am renting. I told them. Nevertheless they entered that compound without warrant.
Phi and Kappa did not deny, but seemed to hope this objection of mine would enrage their boss, Msellem, who reached for a book, looked on some different pages, then put it back on the shelf.
Meanwhile I continued: my third objection was the officers' refusal to return my passport after inspection. The European Union allows it citizens to hand over their passports for inspection, but they are forbidden to leave it with anyone.
This, I later heard, was the best one of the three, because this is also a well known rule in Tanzania, and for trespassing Tanzanian citizens even have been sentenced severely.
Why don't you tell him what you did when you arrived here on the compound of the immigration office, Kappa said, still with frowned forehead.
Mr. Kappa, I said to Mr. Msellem, refers to me approaching another officer of yours whom I know, pointing at Mr. Kappa and Mr. Phi, asking who they were and telling they were harassing me. My reason for this is that I wanted this officer to know whom I refer to when later I have to discuss the matter and Mr. Kappa and Mr. Phi might start denying they were the ones executing this operation. But Mr. Kappa understands this very well because that is exactly why he did not like to see me doing it. Gentlemen, I am now regularly in East Africa for eight years. I have seen criminals with fake official ID cards and I have experienced many government appointed officers with perfectly genuine ID cards trying do break the law to tamper with me. I hope you do understand that especially we whites are extremely attractive targets for officials and fake officials looking for opportunities to illegally get some money, or even a lot. But if in the process of protecting myself I have offended Mr. Kappa and Mr. Phi, I want to apologize to them.
Kappa and Phi did not change their frowned faces, so I added, with a facial expression of subduction to an infinite but fortunately also invisible power that I have learned to imitate from priests: and I am serious  (which of course I was not).
Their was a short silence.
Then Msellem took the floor and said: Now Mr. hamminga, for you to be the first to apologize, that is an act of greatness. We should understand, he continued to his staff, that Mr. hamminga is used to countries like Kenya and Uganda. We cannot require him to understand immediately that Tanzania is a very different country, one in which all officers are clean, and do honestly follow their orders and nothing else.
I nodded gratefully for this liberal recognition of my ignorance, while the words of the experienced middle aged full Tanzanian African Inland Church reverend Gabriel on my leave from the yard with Phi and Kappa resounded in my head: Don't do it! They will rob you!
As most readers know, I am by nature modest indeed and thus far too shy to repeat the remainder of the speech of Mr. Msellem about my Inner Self, Character and Soul. His tone clearly took a sustained rise until the moment where he said that under the circumstance it was only natural for himself to apologize also.
I felt sorry for being bound to completely concentrate on Msellem during his entire laudatio. I wish I could have caught a glimpse of the rest of the audience, but such would, I was lucky enough to grasp, immediately have cast doubt on Msellem's deep and well taken analysis of the very essence of my person.
This was the sign for everyone to say a bit more about why we had misunderstood each other, for me to listen with enacted interest to details given by Phi, Beta and Kappa of what is proper behavior of citizens to officials in Tanzania, and showing myself delighted with this refreshing information about their country in which I could (truly!) confess to love so much that I want to stay and die there, meanwhile resolving to shift my plan to shop for a rocket propelled grenade launcher to a higher priority on my To Do list.
I think we have solved the problem, Msellem concluded. Mr. hamminga, please make speed with your job contract, because we should be processing your new visa application before the present one has expired.
I promise.
We as Immigration have the authority to force Daniel to finish your boat, if you need us, tell us, Msellem says.
I thank him and will think about it.
We all amicably shook hands at goodbye.
I am glad we are friends now, I said to Kappa and Phi, I feared you seriously.
I was not sure whether their subsequent smiles meant they were stupid enough to be flattered, but this might very well have been the case..

The whole thing had cost two hours. I returned to the yard from where the thugs plucked me. The metal screws Daniel had tried to cheat me with had been too big, the copper screws to replace them slightly thinner and not fitting. As an additional punishment, Daniel shall have to buy even more expensive copper screws that he had tried to avoid. I offer Daniel to sell him the screws on credit, to be balanced with the final payment, Daniel starts to tell very long Kiswahili stories for translation into English to Feleshi and Gabriel, it sounds, as far as I understand as a lecture on Mwanza screw trade in general and copper screw trade in particular.
You talk to him, I say to Feleshi and Gabriel, I do not care, and I have no more time. I just wanted to help him. Without the screws he will deliver after February, when I shall earn the price of all those thousands of screws every week as a fine just by waiting for delayed inspection and delivery.
No! Wait! Don't go! Gabriel and Feleshi shout.
You talk to him, I repeat, leaving the premises, just tell him his hull will be rejected by the inspectors if they find one metal screw or one too thin copper screw and that such a delay it his contract responsibility.

The past days, Gabriel, though remaining, as far as I see, honest, started to defend Daniels stance to me: What is wrong with these iron screws?
Gabriel, after ten years they will have got weak by rusting, even what we call dry wood has moisture inside. Hence they cannot be screwed out anymore. I will be stuck with twenty thousand rusty wholes in my mninga planks, containing rusty remains of screws. Why use the best tropical hardwood for and entire 4 ton ship to last 40 years and then make it last ten or fifteen by using rusting screws?
OK, but what is the point to to dry the wood for the stern, it will be in the water anyway?
If the stern still is drying after being caulked the joints will get weak...
etc. etc. I am only telling him what he knows, but even a African Inland Church Angel apparently should know that I know before being convinced, with God's help.
Feleshi is frustrated. He has simply given up doing anything on his own initiative. He is just willing to help me when I ask him for something specific. He learned that his talking has no effect against Daniels strong combination of shamelessness, arrogance and stupidity.

High time to put the Immigration mafia in place!

I copy for Msellem the dhow contract I promised him and my one page report of Daniel's misbehavior, take an author's copy of my recent book Knowledge Cultures, write on the first page in big letters:

To Mr. Msellem,
In deep respect for the way he is operating Mwanza Immigration
The Author

put the entire shit in an envelop and drop it at the Immigration Office on my way to the lake side WiFi zone and its adjacent Hotel Tilapia and Mwanza Yacht Club to upload this page.

Surfboard: immigration.