We’ve been in Dar es Salaam for over 6 weeks now, and there are only so many meetings one can attend, schedules one can compile or timelines one can make before getting restless.
So in order to satisfy this insatiable desire for some physical productivity – we resolved that today we would engage in some good old-fashioned manual labour.
Our objective got off to a flying start when we arrived at Salma Kikwete Secondary school to find a large group of students wielding hoes and shovels behind the science lab, in what looked like the school’s latest breed of unconventional punishment procedures.
It transpired that the students were in fact preparing a garden for the Jitunze scheme, a social enterprise that aims to help disadvantaged students earn small amounts of money from growing and harvesting crops.
We got stuck in. Amid the 3 of us waving pickaxes around like rusty metal lassoes, Madame Chanafi, the headmistress, arrived. She shot us a confused glance and strolled over. The confused glance was not, as might be expected, directed at the bizarre nature of the situation, but regarding our apparently shoddy pickaxe technique. She laughed, picked up a hoe, and got to work on a particularly stubborn piece of half buried tree trunk.
After recovering from this shame, we scuttled inside and back to familiar territory to speak with Mr Kapinga – aiming to assess Form 1’s progress as a result of the Peer2Peer scheme that CDI set up last summer. The meeting went well, and we put a plan in place to analyse test scores on Monday.
An hour later we left Salma for the next excitement of the day – visiting the engineering project’s sewage network in Vingunguti. After a quick tour from Tristan and Jonathan, we set to work digging a trench alongside the biogas generator. Having perfected my digging skills after Episode 1 of labour at the school this morning, I felt pretty confident in my excavating abilities.
This confidence was short lived however; as Jonathan soon came over and told me in no uncertain terms that I was making every mistake in the book. Being unfamiliar with said trench-digging literature, I resigned to letting him demonstrate the official technique, and then resumed pickaxing.
Robbie commented that he had never seen anyone look so awkward with a pickaxe. I couldn’t help but wonder what the other pickaxe-filled occasions he was using as points of comparison were, but I kept quiet, as he proceeded to hit himself in the shin with his shovel.
Alex continued to hack away at the rock with limited success, and Ade took scenic photos of the events as the sun began to set on the informal settlement and its adjacent pond of raw sewage. Despite the pungent smell and occasional sightings of solid human excrement, the atmosphere was actually really lovely, and we sat down by the newly formed ditch and looked back fondly on our day’s work.
Robbie took it upon himself to puncture this serenity, ensuring that everyone was aware of the bright red blister on his palm, and consequently declaring that he was done with physical exertion for the day.
Alex, Ade and I nodded wearily and we departed from Vingunguti, now in complete darkness, for the long Bajaji ride home.
Alice Pavey, Education Project volunteer
Cambridge Development Initiative 