Our nastiness goes regional

By John K Kariuki

Sometimes, it requires an outsider’s astonishment at the things you consider ‘normal’ to jolt you to the fact that you have sunk into abyssal depths of deceit and incredulity.

As I roved the streets of Dar es Salaam watching on and eavesdropping in on ndugu Tanzanians, I concluded that we often exaggerate our sense of importance and have no culture that can sell in any of East African’s stock exchanges.

We shock and owe foreigners with our lack of social finesse and grace in saying and doing things. Often, we overlook the small things that matter tremendously to other East Africans, like greetings at every encounter and saying ‘thank you’ for all good turns.

Like me, you probably have taken the trouble to read the unspoken words of our East African neighbours and noticed that they regard every fresh specimen from Kenya with some anxiety and amusement. The way you would hold your breath lest a new mzungu priest utters obscenities as he tries out your vernacular!

While in Dar, I came across some visiting Kenyans — really a Nairobi crowd, which sent onlookers reeling with amusement and reinforcing their ambivalent views of Kenyans. This mob, comprising of some apparently educated and employed people, raided a table and crudely pushed away two hapless local revellers by talking in vernacular! This must have been the ultimate affront to those two ndugus in a country where Kiswahili has superseded all tribal languages.

All eavesdroppers were clearly miffed when two women in this mob spilled out the stuffing of a samosa to ascertain what it was filled with. All the while they floated frightening names of alleged common Nairobi puddings: frogs, donkeys and dogs!

The fellows hollered and rapped

This Kenyan mob took their precious time when making their orders all the while whipping out calculators to do the indefatigable currency conversion sums. "Ah, Sh1,500, nyinyi watu ni wanoma sana!" they groaned.

The waitress discreetly left to give them time to make up their minds at one point. And true to Kenyan pub culture, the fellows hollered and rapped the table to call her when they were through. This almost threw a security scare in the establishment! "Naomba kujua ni nini kimetokea ndugu! (I beg to know what is afoot, brothers!)" Everybody asked, genuinely concerned. Apparently, this kind of summon was a first to be witnessed in Dar.

When they needed a cut of nyama choma, this crowd went through a typical and shocking Kenyan charade. As we often do on this side of the border, they all trooped to the choma zone to inspect the meat instead of sending the waitress like everybody else.

There they made offending and condescending comparisons between Dar and Nairobi goats. The grimaces on their faces and the spiteful sneers they delivered in vernacular spoke volumes about runaway egos.

My host noticed the national shame on my face and subtly stepped in to ease the emotional burden on me. "Hata hapa ndugu kuna nchi mbili; ya watu wa kawaida na wadaku! (Even here we have two countries, brother; one for ordinary people and another one for gossips!)"

Don’t move earlier

The problem with many Kenyans visiting Rome and elsewhere is that they don’t want to do as the Romans do. In Dar, for example, breakfast is often never ready before eight o’clock in most hotels, buses don’t move earlier than 6am or later than 10pm. You can’t make a matatu move faster, or cut lanes as our crews to do in Nairobi.

And you don’t have to shout your order or remind the hotel staffers every now and then. You will finally be served when your turn comes! Yet these are the areas that many Kenyans work themselves up in a pique when visiting other East African states.

And which is easier between customising Tanzanian tea to make it tangawizi free and swimming with the tide and taking it as it is for a day? Can we really overhaul Ugandans’ centuries old custom of eating matoke just because we come from Nairobi with thousands of shillings to spend?

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