Last of the matatus?
The matatu is well and truly known throughout East Africa, albeit by different names. In Kenya it is the matatu; in Uganda, it is called the taxi and it becomes the dala dala in Tanzania.
By Kalungi Kabuye
in Dar es Salaam
The matatu is well and truly known throughout East Africa, albeit by different names. In Kenya it is the matatu; in Uganda, it is called the taxi and it becomes the dala dala in Tanzania.
Different names, but still the very same threat to all road users in the region. One of the most feared presences on our roads, the matatu has been the terror of East Africa for generations and countless number of people have paid the ultimate price.
But, of recent, most of that has changed. In Kenya, where they were declared a ‘clear and present’ danger to the population, the new government eventually won the war against the matatu mafia.
Now, only a fixed number of passengers can be accommodated, and they all have seat belts. In addition, they all have speed governors and thus cannot go beyond 80 kph; the 1000 plus watts music systems have been removed and no more air horns allowed. And those very annoying manambas (touts) banned from the roads and stages. So, no more foul smelling breath in your face.
In Uganda, where admittedly they did not get as bad as in Kenya, they have also been reigned in and the process of completely controlling them is well on the way.
So, are we seeing the last of the matatus as generations have known them? Is it finally safe to go back onto the streets without worrying about some crazed fiend tearing around the block like nobody else is there?
Don’t hold your breath, though, because in Tanzania, they are still alive and well and still very dangerous. In a country that is known for its easy, slow-paced and somewhat lazy life and where everybody tries to be ‘polite’ at all times, the dala dala will give you serious stress anytime.
I was in Dar es Salaam as part of my journey across East Africa. I had seen these menaces of the roads in Mwanza, but never got around to using them. I largely used cabs, called taxis there, but also known as ‘special hires’ in Kampala.
But they turned out to be really expensive so when I got to Dar, running short on time and money, I was forced to go native and travel by dala dala.
It used to be an adage of sorts in Kenya that matatus never get full; this happens to be still very true in Tanzania. They will still pack as many people as are available. It came as a shock one time when I counted 25 people in what we in Uganda call kamunye. How did they all fit in? Half of them were standing!
I still cannot understand why a normal adult male or female would want to bend almost half way just to get into a van. In any case I was not going to fold my 6'4" frame inside one of those things, so I insisted on seating in the front besides the driver, where only two people were allowed.
At times, this meant I had to wait till an empty one came along so I could get the front seat. At one time, we were coming back from Bagamoyo and it was getting dark but the only dala dala that had any passengers in it also had the two front seat occupied. So my friend and I offered to pay the fares for those two, in exchange for giving up their seats for us. They happily agreed.
Another thing I failed to understand is why passengers stand at all, because they are thousands of those dala dalas in Dar. Why not wait for the next one and travel comfortably, instead of squeezing yourself in between five passengers, or even stand?
When I got the front seat, I thought I had won that particular war, but had not taken into account the conductor, otherwise known as conda in Dar. First of all, these species all wear some dirty green uniform. It is not clear if that is their original colour, or they became that way. But they all wear the same coloured garments.
They have this very annoying habit of, as soon as you are seated, shaking a palm full of coins just next to your ear, as they ask for the fare, which to be fair just varies between either Tsh150 (Ush250) or Tsh200 (Ush350) for anywhere within the city.
As soon as you have sat down, this very annoying sound invades your ear. It is like a very angry mosquito with a very high, off key, buzz right in your ear. The first time I heard it, I almost turned round and slapped the fellow.
It did not help that he was mouthing off with slang I couldn’t make out. So I told him in no uncertain terms, and in my best English, that I would pay him when I got to my destination and not a second earlier.
I don’t know if he understood me or not, but he left me alone after that.
The time I was there, there were reports that efforts to regulate the dala dalas had been talked about, especially the need to get rid of the hundreds of ‘brokers’ that hang around the stages and call for passengers for a fee, just as they do in Uganda.
Unlike in Uganda, though, those brokers had fought back and a few people incurred serious stab wounds, according to newspapers. The efforts were, as a result, put on the back shelf, and what are East Africa’s last real matatus still ply their very dangerous trade on Tanzanian roads.
in Dar es Salaam
The matatu is well and truly known throughout East Africa, albeit by different names. In Kenya it is the matatu; in Uganda, it is called the taxi and it becomes the dala dala in Tanzania.
Different names, but still the very same threat to all road users in the region. One of the most feared presences on our roads, the matatu has been the terror of East Africa for generations and countless number of people have paid the ultimate price.
But, of recent, most of that has changed. In Kenya, where they were declared a ‘clear and present’ danger to the population, the new government eventually won the war against the matatu mafia.
Now, only a fixed number of passengers can be accommodated, and they all have seat belts. In addition, they all have speed governors and thus cannot go beyond 80 kph; the 1000 plus watts music systems have been removed and no more air horns allowed. And those very annoying manambas (touts) banned from the roads and stages. So, no more foul smelling breath in your face.
In Uganda, where admittedly they did not get as bad as in Kenya, they have also been reigned in and the process of completely controlling them is well on the way.
So, are we seeing the last of the matatus as generations have known them? Is it finally safe to go back onto the streets without worrying about some crazed fiend tearing around the block like nobody else is there?
Don’t hold your breath, though, because in Tanzania, they are still alive and well and still very dangerous. In a country that is known for its easy, slow-paced and somewhat lazy life and where everybody tries to be ‘polite’ at all times, the dala dala will give you serious stress anytime.
I was in Dar es Salaam as part of my journey across East Africa. I had seen these menaces of the roads in Mwanza, but never got around to using them. I largely used cabs, called taxis there, but also known as ‘special hires’ in Kampala.
But they turned out to be really expensive so when I got to Dar, running short on time and money, I was forced to go native and travel by dala dala.
It used to be an adage of sorts in Kenya that matatus never get full; this happens to be still very true in Tanzania. They will still pack as many people as are available. It came as a shock one time when I counted 25 people in what we in Uganda call kamunye. How did they all fit in? Half of them were standing!
I still cannot understand why a normal adult male or female would want to bend almost half way just to get into a van. In any case I was not going to fold my 6'4" frame inside one of those things, so I insisted on seating in the front besides the driver, where only two people were allowed.
At times, this meant I had to wait till an empty one came along so I could get the front seat. At one time, we were coming back from Bagamoyo and it was getting dark but the only dala dala that had any passengers in it also had the two front seat occupied. So my friend and I offered to pay the fares for those two, in exchange for giving up their seats for us. They happily agreed.
Another thing I failed to understand is why passengers stand at all, because they are thousands of those dala dalas in Dar. Why not wait for the next one and travel comfortably, instead of squeezing yourself in between five passengers, or even stand?
When I got the front seat, I thought I had won that particular war, but had not taken into account the conductor, otherwise known as conda in Dar. First of all, these species all wear some dirty green uniform. It is not clear if that is their original colour, or they became that way. But they all wear the same coloured garments.
They have this very annoying habit of, as soon as you are seated, shaking a palm full of coins just next to your ear, as they ask for the fare, which to be fair just varies between either Tsh150 (Ush250) or Tsh200 (Ush350) for anywhere within the city.
As soon as you have sat down, this very annoying sound invades your ear. It is like a very angry mosquito with a very high, off key, buzz right in your ear. The first time I heard it, I almost turned round and slapped the fellow.
It did not help that he was mouthing off with slang I couldn’t make out. So I told him in no uncertain terms, and in my best English, that I would pay him when I got to my destination and not a second earlier.
I don’t know if he understood me or not, but he left me alone after that.
The time I was there, there were reports that efforts to regulate the dala dalas had been talked about, especially the need to get rid of the hundreds of ‘brokers’ that hang around the stages and call for passengers for a fee, just as they do in Uganda.
Unlike in Uganda, though, those brokers had fought back and a few people incurred serious stab wounds, according to newspapers. The efforts were, as a result, put on the back shelf, and what are East Africa’s last real matatus still ply their very dangerous trade on Tanzanian roads.