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The first time I visited Tanzania in 1991 hardly anyone I met had even heard of computers or mobile phones, let alone seen or used them. Cost aside, major hurdles existed that prevented many Tanzanian’s from accessing even basic technology such as fixed line telephones. Now, twelve years later, the face of the world has been changed in many ways, Tanzania included. Technology has leapt into the laps of ordinary Tanzanians. Slowly but surely Tanzania is catching up with the richer northern countries in terms of technology.

This is not simply the result of northern or South African corporations expanding their markets into an under-developed
country. Technology has been brought into Tanzania by Tanzanian’s themselves, adapting American, European and Far Eastern technologies to the environment and markets that exist here in Africa. Where telecommunications networks are not
adequate for high speed internet connections, such as the DSL used in Europe and America, Tanzanian businesses have adapted network technology designed to be used within single buildings to wire up entire towns and cities. The limits of
Ethernet networking have been pushed to their limits by these ISPs. To support customers beyond these technical limits another office technology has been adapted to spread the net yet further – wireless LAN or wi-fi. Using wireless LAN to connect distant people is the realm of enthusiasts and hackers in richer countries. In Tanzania it is bread and butter for local ISPs. This in turn has allowed many internet cafes to spring up in towns and cities of all shapes and sizes around Tanzania; enabling ordinary Tanzanian’s to access email and the web at costs as low as 500/- an hour..

In a country where short international phone calls quickly mount into tens of dollars, internet users circumnavigate the
traditional telephone network (and unenforceable laws) to have conversations over the net. Systems such as Net2Phone allow phone calls to be made using a computer connected to the internet at a fraction of the cost. Some internet cafes offer this amongst their other services.

Mobile phones have brought voice communication deep into the Serengeti and all the way to the summit of Kilimanjaro. Obtaining a phone and line can take as little as ten minutes. All this in a country where, twelve years ago, getting a land line organised might take years and then reliability was a problem. Nowadays it is not unusual to see Maasai morani in full ceremonial dress walking around Longido with a mobile phone clamped to one ear, spear in the other hand.

Even those who cannot afford to own a mobile phone, have their own personal sim card – or ‘line’ – which they plug into the
local shared handset in order to collect messages. Informal distribution networks for mobile phone credits have sprung up deep within rural communities to ensure that mobile phone users in the know are always able to communicate, even if they aren’t physically buy top up cards. Even phone users who cannot afford to buy airtime are able to communicate through a system of beeping – something I mocked in last week’s article. Since then a reader contacted me to clarify the system – one beep means Hello – I am here!, whereas two beeps means Call me! Sending more than two beeps is simply rude.

African countries for years were at the far end of the queue when it came to distribution of new films. When they did arrive, the reels had passed through so many cinemas’ projectors that they showed up scratched and crackly in African theatres. They were barely viewable. Tanzanians can now see American and European movies before they are officially released in some countries. This is thanks to sneaky filmgoers who smuggle digital video cameras into the cinema and film the film. These are then copied onto Video CDs (VCDs) and sold cheaply around the world. Sound and picture quality is still somewhat hit and miss, but this hasn’t stopped the entrepreneurs at Arusha’s Metropole cinema from investing in a computer and video projector and showing films that have just been released in Europe. VCDs are also available for hire and purchase at low cost at a number of locations in town – in Dar es Salaam, “marching guys” will even bring them to your car at the traffic lights.

These examples of technologies, manipulated, appropriated, transformed and embraced by ordinary Tanzanians represent in
themselves a cutting edge of technology. Unable to produce their own devices, Tanzanians have become extremely adept at taking what is available and moulding it to needs and wants that cannot be anticipated by outsiders. Next time you think that this country is somehow behind the times look around the streets.

Amidst the hand carts, goat herds and subsistence farmers selling a handful of surplus tomatoes walk the innovators of the future. Their ideas for twists of technology will continue to change our lives as much as the hi-tech multinationals.

Originally published in Arusha Times 283

Mobile phones – don’t you just love them? From almost anywhere in Tanzania you can reach into your pocket, grab your phone, dial your friend and talk to them for hours, or just send them a short text message. You could be on top of Kilimanjaro or the middle of the Serengeti. You could be on the dalladalla or in your bath. The barriers of communication have fallen to a chorus of ring-tones.

But as with any technology there is a learning curve attached. The people who acquire the devices have to learn how to use them, and society in turn must learn to accommodate the devices we come to take for granted. Between the device and society a tension grows and this tension manifests itself in our lives as annoyance! So here are my five most annoying things about mobile phones in Tanzania:

Beeping

It is late at night. My body is tucked up warm and safe in bed, my mind is just beginning to drift away into gentle dreams – sitting with a laptop in a sun dappled corn field, programming beautiful web pages. What is that sound in the distance, getting louder and more insistent – it sounds like the William Tell Overture played on a stylophone. I jump up; unravel myself from the mosquito net and dash across the room to the flashing, buzzing mobile phone. My hand grasps it and the ring immediately stops. Still bleary eyed, I return to bed, my head hits the pillow, and my mind swims off into a land of circuits and microchips. Bleep-bleep-bleep goes the phone, and once again I leap out of bed, run to the phone and this time answer it but they hang up immediately. Gah! I am a victim of the phenomenon of “beeping” – a friend is trying to call me, but they don’t have credit on their phone, or they don’t want to pay. They are hoping I will see they have just called and ring back. They will beep and beep until I do so. So I check for missed calls on my phone and press to call the last missed call.

Number hopping

Hello comes the answer, sounding as if they are surprised anyone just rang. Who is this? I bark. Daniel he replies. Who are you? Why did you just ring me? I demand of this Daniel – I don’t know any Daniels. I have a small shop on Sokoine Road – someone was just here trying to beep you from my phone – they just left he explains. Do you know who
it was? I inquire. Never seen them before. He hangs up. Who was trying to call me? Probably one of my many friends who never call from their own phone – the battery is always dead or they are out of credit so they borrow someone else’s. I never know who it is calling because no-one sticks to one number. I climb back into bed and am just beginning to drift back off when the phone starts beeping again.

Unsigned SMS

This time it is a text message again from another unrecognised number – I BEEPED U JUST NOW – Y U NOT REPLY? I ND HLP. MEET AT SHOPRITE IN 1 HR. Who is this person waking me in the middle of the night asking for help? Why didn’t they sign the message with their name? I call the number back – it is Daniel again – This is my other phone. Your friend sent a message. They have gone now. Argh! Why have they combined beeping and number hopping with an unsigned SMS so I can’t tell who it is? Now I am going to have to put clothes on over my pyjamas and call a cab to meet this person at Shoprite.

Unreliable reception

The cab pulls up to my house and I negotiate an extortionate price to Shoprite and climb in. We are driving down the Nairobi Road when I hear a familiar ringing. The driver grabs his mobile phone and enters into an extremely interesting conversation – Hello? he says. Hello! he shouts. Can you hear me? Hello? He hangs up. The phone rings again.
Hello! Can you hear me now? Yes? What? Say that again! Now we have come into better range he can get on with his chat about football.

One ear to the phone, no brain behind the wheel

Driving along with one hand to his ear and the other switching between wheel and gear stick the cab driver arrives in Arusha chit chatting about the fortunes of Simba, Beckham and Michael Owen. We come to a bend, but the driver is too engrossed to steer, and the car thuds into the drain, everyone hurled forwards. Steam pours from the hood of the car as we stagger out to compare nose bleeds. His phone is bust, so I reach for mine in order to call for an ambulance – but the phone lights up with the message “Low Battery”, gives a beep more like a sigh then fades away.

Mobile phones – don’t you just love them?

Originally published in Arusha Times 282