I OPENED my front door to find a lake outside. Seeing as it was outside my place and newly formed from the rain, I quickly took the liberty to name the lake as Lake Lusekelo.
“I baptise thee body of water as ‘Lake Lusekelo.” I announced in an impromptu ceremony as I reached for the water outside my door. I owned my situation.
I thought the name was quite catchy. However, when the excitement of having this newly formed lake named after my father passed, it occurred to me that I would now need a boat to get anywhere.
A boat or perhaps, a small helicopter to airlift me from my door to the top of my car where I would then get into my car ninja-style. There was no dry patch as my car as it was smack in the middle of Lake Lusekelo. I went about trying to figure it all out the careful and precise calculations.
I owned my situation. I took some pictures and sent them to friends and family boasting about how I had always wanted to have something named after my father and now I finally got it. I owned my situation.
I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who went to bed during the week, half slept through the type of rain than can easily be compared to Sodom and Goliath rain, and woke up in vast bodies of water around and in some cases, inside their houses. I noticed that no one actually came out and testified owning their situation.
Like here, see my life- my entire living-room with my sofa and new flat screen are all under water. Or, my kitchen is under that water. It was strangely quiet. I watched news on TV and perused social media and it was all but quiet.
No one came out and said anything expect from the regular ‘jamaa’ from those corners of Dar you always hear complaints about everything. And this is where I believe we should do better as a people.
Imagine if Massawe in Mikocheni came out and said that his $2000 apartment was fully flooded with everything he has under water? Or perhaps Rutashobya in Mbezi taking a picture of himself under 5 feet of water in the middle of his compound trying to get to his ‘very expensive, one of a kind’ (also flooded) car.
Everybody was busy talking about how bad the rain was but not really what the rain had done to them. This silent suffering means that they were cleaning up their houses alone.
What happened to that ‘Ujamaa’ love? This is where we as a people would simply go help clean the mud out Massawe’s house and get a boat to the likes of Rutashobya. In fact, after helping each other out, we would then go find an ultimate solution to this problem as a people.
United in arms figuring out the failed science that is our drainage system and owning our situation instead of allowing it to own us.