Mwanza: The city of rocks
There are rocks in Mwanza, and then there are rocks
By Kalungi Kabuye
In Mwanza
There are rocks in Mwanza, and then there are rocks. And just when you think you have seen enough of them, there are more and more rocks. Wherever you turn, there are these amazing rocks that literally take your breath away.
I am used to upcountry towns, and I’ve been ticked off by quite a few. Now Tanzania is a big country, and Mwanza is hundreds of miles away from Dar-es- Salaam, not the most becoming of capital cities. So you expect, maybe, a little larger Arua, or just a mite more active Mbale.
Boy, was I surprised, because nothing really, prepares you for Mwanza.
First, because it is on the same lake like we are, the inter-lacustrine region of our school history classes, I expected it to be more or less like Kampala, or Entebbe; green and very fertile.
But it is not. The area around Mwanza tends from semi-arid to arid, this with the second largest fresh-water lake in the world just a glance away.
There is also plenty of sand. It has much more in common with Dar and other coastal cities in terms of sand than Entebbe. The whole town is sand and in the morning you are greeted by the sight of thousands of women with grass brooms smoothening the sand in their yards, sweeping away any fallen leaves and debris the night might have brought with it. There is very little grass, although of course, there are palm trees wherever you look.
And then, surprise, surprise, Mwanza is pre-dominantly Muslim. Surprising because it is hundreds of miles away from the coast, where Arabs held sway for centuries. Makes you wonder how the Arabs got here before the Christians.
So when I was there last month, visiting a former New Vision colleague, Ayeta Makhoka, neé Wangusa, I would be awakened every morning at 5:00am by a Muslim cleric calling fellow Muslims to prayer. And since it was the time of Ramadhan, he did it with a lot of enthusiasm and gusto.
Also almost all the major roads were either being repaired, or had just been re-laid. This meant that it was a very neat-looking city that I found. Apparently, some high-ranking government official made it his business to upgrade Mwanza’s infrastructure to attract more tourists.
It may sound surprising, but I can see Mwanza becoming a major tourist attraction. This is mostly because of the scenery, and that brings us back to the rocks. In fact, in some circles, Mwanza is referred to as the Rocky City.
Huge and small granite rocks give Mwanza its identity and character. I failed to find an explanation on how these rocks were formed, how they came to be. When were they formed, and under what circumstances? Unfortunately when you search the Internet, you get a lot of results on Mwanza, but very little information.
You know those big rocks near Matugga, which legend has it they are actually a family and that they moved from Mukono to where they are now? Well, Mwanza has hundreds of rocks like the Matugga ones, some even bigger and with even more fantastic shapes.
But there seems to be no local
legends about these, or at least nobody would tell me about them. I inquired at the museum near Tilapia Hotel, the city’s Sheraton, but the lady curator either did not know, or did not understand what I asked.
Just before you get to the Tilapia Hotel, at the local car-washing bay, a group of rocks juts out of the ground and rises several dozen feet into the air. They seem like sentinels, ancient guardians of secrets nobody knew.
Then there are the so-called ‘Dancing Rocks.’ We failed to trace these, largely because whoever called them that and posted it on the Internet, forgot to tell the local people, who had no idea what or where they were.
The rocks are there, and so of course the people of Mwanza made use of them. The city is actually built below, in-between, around, and on top of the rocks. Unfortunately, not much planning went into this, and anybody that could get a lease from the government, built where and what he liked. The result is a kind of slum, but where the slums are on top of the hills, and the more well to do are in the lowlands.
According to Ayeta, hell breaks loose during the rainy season, when all kinds of waste comes flowing down from the hills.
But that’s the only depressing part of Mwanza, which is actually a beautiful city, especially around the very picturesque bay. If they could build and develop some kind of waterfront, an entertainment complex on the lines of Cape Town, expect the tourists to flow in their hundreds of thousands.
Mwanza maybe predominantly Muslim, but it is also typically African, and the non-Muslims like their pork, only here they call it kiti-kimoto, in order not to offend their Moslem colleagues. We went to Ayeta’s favourite kafunda, had some deep-fried kiti-kimoto and ugali, listened to reggae, and shot some pool.
Mwanza is unexpectedly an expensive place. The good thing is the banks can change Uganda shillings, at the rate of 1:1.65, so you would expect prices to be much lower than in Uganda. But they are almost at par.
Because Dar-es-Salaam is almost a world away, Mwanza gets most of its goods from either Kenya or Uganda. Traders will come to Kampala and buy things like clothes and shoes and then ship them to Mwanza and sell them at twice the price. Translated into Uganda shillings, that is quiet a killing.
Not many people I’ve asked have been to Mwanza, because it is really far. With the introduction of speed governors on public transport almost throughout East Africa, a drive to Mwanza from either Kampala or Nairobi can take between 15-20 hours. You need a really important reason to make that journey. Ayeta did, but she did it for love, and found a husband there. I was just curious, to see a place I’ve never seen before, but next time, I think I will take a plane, thank you very much.
In Mwanza
There are rocks in Mwanza, and then there are rocks. And just when you think you have seen enough of them, there are more and more rocks. Wherever you turn, there are these amazing rocks that literally take your breath away.
I am used to upcountry towns, and I’ve been ticked off by quite a few. Now Tanzania is a big country, and Mwanza is hundreds of miles away from Dar-es- Salaam, not the most becoming of capital cities. So you expect, maybe, a little larger Arua, or just a mite more active Mbale.
Boy, was I surprised, because nothing really, prepares you for Mwanza.
First, because it is on the same lake like we are, the inter-lacustrine region of our school history classes, I expected it to be more or less like Kampala, or Entebbe; green and very fertile.
But it is not. The area around Mwanza tends from semi-arid to arid, this with the second largest fresh-water lake in the world just a glance away.
There is also plenty of sand. It has much more in common with Dar and other coastal cities in terms of sand than Entebbe. The whole town is sand and in the morning you are greeted by the sight of thousands of women with grass brooms smoothening the sand in their yards, sweeping away any fallen leaves and debris the night might have brought with it. There is very little grass, although of course, there are palm trees wherever you look.
And then, surprise, surprise, Mwanza is pre-dominantly Muslim. Surprising because it is hundreds of miles away from the coast, where Arabs held sway for centuries. Makes you wonder how the Arabs got here before the Christians.
So when I was there last month, visiting a former New Vision colleague, Ayeta Makhoka, neé Wangusa, I would be awakened every morning at 5:00am by a Muslim cleric calling fellow Muslims to prayer. And since it was the time of Ramadhan, he did it with a lot of enthusiasm and gusto.
Also almost all the major roads were either being repaired, or had just been re-laid. This meant that it was a very neat-looking city that I found. Apparently, some high-ranking government official made it his business to upgrade Mwanza’s infrastructure to attract more tourists.
It may sound surprising, but I can see Mwanza becoming a major tourist attraction. This is mostly because of the scenery, and that brings us back to the rocks. In fact, in some circles, Mwanza is referred to as the Rocky City.
Huge and small granite rocks give Mwanza its identity and character. I failed to find an explanation on how these rocks were formed, how they came to be. When were they formed, and under what circumstances? Unfortunately when you search the Internet, you get a lot of results on Mwanza, but very little information.
You know those big rocks near Matugga, which legend has it they are actually a family and that they moved from Mukono to where they are now? Well, Mwanza has hundreds of rocks like the Matugga ones, some even bigger and with even more fantastic shapes.
But there seems to be no local
legends about these, or at least nobody would tell me about them. I inquired at the museum near Tilapia Hotel, the city’s Sheraton, but the lady curator either did not know, or did not understand what I asked.
Just before you get to the Tilapia Hotel, at the local car-washing bay, a group of rocks juts out of the ground and rises several dozen feet into the air. They seem like sentinels, ancient guardians of secrets nobody knew.
Then there are the so-called ‘Dancing Rocks.’ We failed to trace these, largely because whoever called them that and posted it on the Internet, forgot to tell the local people, who had no idea what or where they were.
The rocks are there, and so of course the people of Mwanza made use of them. The city is actually built below, in-between, around, and on top of the rocks. Unfortunately, not much planning went into this, and anybody that could get a lease from the government, built where and what he liked. The result is a kind of slum, but where the slums are on top of the hills, and the more well to do are in the lowlands.
According to Ayeta, hell breaks loose during the rainy season, when all kinds of waste comes flowing down from the hills.
But that’s the only depressing part of Mwanza, which is actually a beautiful city, especially around the very picturesque bay. If they could build and develop some kind of waterfront, an entertainment complex on the lines of Cape Town, expect the tourists to flow in their hundreds of thousands.
Mwanza maybe predominantly Muslim, but it is also typically African, and the non-Muslims like their pork, only here they call it kiti-kimoto, in order not to offend their Moslem colleagues. We went to Ayeta’s favourite kafunda, had some deep-fried kiti-kimoto and ugali, listened to reggae, and shot some pool.
Mwanza is unexpectedly an expensive place. The good thing is the banks can change Uganda shillings, at the rate of 1:1.65, so you would expect prices to be much lower than in Uganda. But they are almost at par.
Because Dar-es-Salaam is almost a world away, Mwanza gets most of its goods from either Kenya or Uganda. Traders will come to Kampala and buy things like clothes and shoes and then ship them to Mwanza and sell them at twice the price. Translated into Uganda shillings, that is quiet a killing.
Not many people I’ve asked have been to Mwanza, because it is really far. With the introduction of speed governors on public transport almost throughout East Africa, a drive to Mwanza from either Kampala or Nairobi can take between 15-20 hours. You need a really important reason to make that journey. Ayeta did, but she did it for love, and found a husband there. I was just curious, to see a place I’ve never seen before, but next time, I think I will take a plane, thank you very much.