I've thrown the word out a few times while I have been here in a joking manner, but it is not to be taken lightly. Muizi means thief and robbery is a very serious crime in Tanzania. Villages punish thieves by placing a tire securely around their body, lighting it aflame, and letting them burn to death in the middle of town. Apparently the logic is that if they take the thief to the police and the police pay a bounty, the thief will return to the village to steal the bounty. Apparently this is no longer very common, but the official punishment is no cake walk. Police punish thieves by throwing them in jail and beating them with a club repeatedly. Needless to say, you don't want to end up in a Tanzanian prison. For this reason it is not a good idea to seriously call someone a thief unless you intend to sentence them to a very harsh punishment
A while back I was leaving the farm with pastor when a neighbor flagged us down. He asked pastor to come settle a dispute. Pastors are highly respected in society and their word is as strong as that of a judge. We walked over to the neighbor's home where about ten men sat in the shade of small trees excitedly discussing the topic at hand. The topic, I soon realized resolved around a mangy looking young man who stood with his eyes cast downward, looking guilty as all hell. I watched the debate rage on for over twenty minutes about what to do with this young muizi. Apparently the neighbor had bought a cell phone from the man that turned out to be stolen. While there were some other details, I couldn't get a clear picture of what exactly happened. The important fact that I held onto was that they were arguing over a matter of fifteen thousand shillings (about ten dollars). Pastor soon realized that this discussion was going nowhere and we left, but the experience stuck with me and raised a lot of questions.
The prominent question in my mind was why ten fully grown men would sit around and talk for hours about such a trivial amount of money. The answer came to me without much thought. First, fifteen thousand shillings is not trivial. This is the daily wage of a highly skilled mason or carpenter or three times the daily wage of a day laborer. Second, the day's events offered something to do. One thing that continues to surprise me is how many men do nearly nothing for many days. This is the same reason that when the car breaks down five to ten people stop by to lean under the hood and offer their unsolicited and uneducated two cents. These seemingly uninteresting and disruptive events offer an exciting break in aimless lives. It seems like a rough thing to say but many people are simply existing and not really living their lives. In many areas, particularly outside of the center of Boma, there is very little work, even less education and absolutely no potential for change. Offering one's opinions in a forum such as this gives life a purpose.
I was curious what would have happened to the arguing men if they had gone to the police considering the value of the stolen property was so small. Pastor explained to me that the muizi and likely the neighbor would spend a few days in jail where they would be beaten repeatedly by the police for bringing a disturbance. This of course seemed well worth arguing over ten dollars.
On Monday I had a truly thought provoking experience. I walked over to the duka near the farm with the mason and carpenter that I was working with for the day as we waited for the perpetually late pastor to give us a ride. A duka is a shop that sells everything from soda to phone credit to cooking oil and this particular duka is nothing more than a seven by seven foot box with an iron barred window and a corrugated roof. I bought a three cokes and a bag of peanuts for the workers and myself as a thank you for working late.. After we had eaten most of the peanuts I watched as a young girl walked up to the counter, pretended to be interested in something and sneakily snatched the plastic bag of nuts. The sight of this provoked a series of conflicting emotions and thoughts.
My initial thought was somewhat parental and made me feel much older than my twenty three years. Perhaps it came from living with nearly thirty children for three months or perhaps it came from watching so many poorly parented children around town. Whatever the case, my initial reaction was to confront the child and teach her that stealing is not the way to improve her unpleasant life. However, the big picture quickly clicked in and I considered the fact that the girl had likely eaten nothing but ugali, beans, and corn for days. A handful of peanuts would not only give her a small amount of much needed nourishment but would mean the world to her. I chose to remain quite. I feared using the word muizi, especially over a few pennies worth of peanuts and had a sudden realization about the scale of the problems in this country.
No matter how much I know and might want to change, as a visitor I can not change the world in three months. While I have made great strides in sharing education with the family I live with and the friends I have made, my impact only makes a difference if people are open to change. I have been able to teach pastor and Monica a lot because they trust me. However, in the case of the girl I would be an outsider trying to impose my will. I realized that anything I said to her would have no long term impact. I was struck by a feeling of helplessness and humbled by reality. Many people are set in their ways and no matter how backwards they may seem, they are their own. Whether it is juvenile theft, inefficient construction techniques, or poor parenting strategies, I can not force change. It is a tough but important thing to come to grips with. The seemingly minor incident turned into a big learning moment for me.
