In the Tanzanian Bush

We were discussing how grateful we were that it wasn’t the rainy season when the offshoot path from the main road would have been impassable. Perhaps, we should have knocked on wood. A few minutes later, we found ourselves stuck deep in a muddy section of the cleared bush several kilometers “off the beaten track.” No traction could be gained no matter how hard the driver pressed on the accelerator. If anything, the vehicle was sinking deeper with each attempt to propel out, almost comparable to attempting to break free from a constrictor’s grip (alright, not quite that comparable). As villagers passed by on foot or bike, they dropped their buckets of water, machetes, or whatever other livelihood or household-related good was in their arms and proceeded to help dig out the vehicle from the mud. In the end, 9 village members had banned together, and three hard attempts and 10,000 Tanzanian shillings later, the vehicle was pushed out and parked before the mud pit. To avoid the risk of plunging back in, we continued on by foot. As we approached the village, we heard several women singing in Swahili at a high tempo. They approached us one by one with massive smiles spread across their faces, shaking our hands with the traditional 3-grip movement as they welcomed us into their village.  The laughing, dancing, and singing continued through the coconut tree “forest” and through the village until we reached the place of their weekly meeting. I suddenly felt as if we were lone travelers who had lost our way and had suddenly come upon a lost society that had decided to take us in. It was sort of an Indiana Jones moment….but, not really.

The optimism of the savings group members we’ve met this past week doesn’t cease to amaze me. Their song and dance help them to forget their hunger and other daily struggles. They feel empowered as they adopt ways to carve out a better future for themselves and their families. This is especially the case in Lindi region, where poverty and food insecurity are far more prevalent. As I visited villages, I was taken aback by the sight of starved children with massive tummies, evidencing the intense malnourishment. Savings groups in these villages were some of the youngest in the program we were evaluating, and much of the greater program’s interventions hadn’t yet reached this region due to low population density, highly dispersed villages, and extremely poor infrastructure.

CBSG group in Masasi District celebrates their first shareout



Heading into a CBSG meeting



Client of a savings group

Child of a savings group client in Lukuledi District, Lindi

Where the program’s interventions and outputs had had sufficient time to mature, the impact was inspiring and noteworthy. Men and women came together into groups, met and saved each week, accessed loans that supported their livelihoods, agriculture production, paying of school fees for their children, and purchasing materials to build a new or improve an existing home. These were the most common purposes for credit. Concluding each 12 month cycle, savings (the deposit handled as a purchase of value-assigned share(s)) are added up with the interest paid on loans, and members celebrate the momentous shareout of the accumulated funds through festivities comprised of music, song, dance, and an extravagant meal of pilau, meat, and potatoes. It is the day, especially after the first cycle, that a member has held the most amount of money he or she has ever seen in a lifetime. It is long-awaited and enthusiastically anticipated, as if a lottery-winning moment. Members use the massive wad of cash towards bulkier purchases that they would never have been able to save up for had they not been members of the group. Some used the cash to purchase a small plot of land for agriculture production, while others applied the fund to start a microbusiness, or again, invest in constructing a new home altogether. We were fortunate to have some of our group meetings coincide with shareout festivities. We were invited to give speeches and take part in the memorable event that I will cherish for a long time to come. On one occasion, after I was introduced as being from the United States, the Tanzanian music instantly transitioned to Rihanna and Akon’s newest hits. I watched with so much enthusiasm as village children got down and dirty to the beats. It was incredibly adorable! My translator colleague, Alfred, whispered to me, “I think they’re trying to make you feel more at home by playing these songs from your country.” I was, to say the least, amused.



Children getting down in Masasi District at shareout festivities



CBSG members



Fishing in Mnazi Bay during the low tide





Big brother brings his brother along to enjoy in the dancing festivities




Shy to dance





Shareout in Kilwa District



Almost stranded

During Mtwara visits, each night required a different accommodation. We felt like nomads traversing through southern Tanzania. We typically had no access to food during the day and energized off of water, warm soda, and cashew nuts or bananas bought along the roadside. I was glad to reach Lindi and learn that I would have the main town as my central base for the subsequent 4 days of visits. It’s difficult to cohesively weave the many experiences and unique events, traditions, and people I met along the way. One person who comes to mind is the Italian-Ethiopian man from Rome, who moved to Tanzania 20 years ago for what he anticipated would be a 6 month getaway. He fell in love with a mountain top of Lindi town and opened a small guesthouse offering some of the best Italian food I’ve had in a while. Every time I passed through, he would say, “Ah, Luxury, my dear! Come see me tomorrow, and I will make a pizza for you. No charge!” I didn’t have the heart to correct him.

Well, I’ve returned to Dar as of this morning, and what a contrast. But, I will stop here. It’s time to get back to my assignment.  Over and out. ;)