Theft in Tanzania

Theft is Tanzania is taken very seriously by most ordinary people. Indeed, in a society without a lot of resources, people have taken to punishing theft very seriously (often by killing the thief), oftentimes outside the bounds of the law, but within the bounds if the law as well. I think this is not only a product of resource poor society, but also as a result of the community oriented ethos that many Tanzanians have.

That said, theft is still common in Tanzania, and white people are particular targets as they are seen as being wealthy. Until last night I was lucky enough to avoid being the target of theft, but I have heard many stories about the results of theft from Tanzanians and other volunteers. Early into my stay in Dar, as I walked through the largest market in Tanzania (Kariakoo), with some Tanzanians, we were told that despite the warnings of our guidebooks theft was not actually very common among Tanzanians in Kariakoo. This is because, as I suggested, thieves are mobbed, stoned, and killed. The Tanzanian I was with said he had personally witnessed two people killed in the market after stealing something. The first was stoned, and then had a nail hammered into his head. The second was stoned, and then forced to drink a watery concrete solution. After ‘justice’ was done, the thieves bodies were dragged to a nearby police station.

Another WorldTeach volunteer was on the bus home from a neighboring town, when a fight broke out on the bus. A man’s phone had been stolen, and he was accusing someone else on the bus. At some point, the bus stopped, many of the men piled off, and a brawl took place. Eventually, all the men got back on the bus, and decided to go back to the nearest town to try and have the police resolve the situation. Everyone on the bus was strip searched, as police searched for the phone. The volunteer, having the same phone as the man, was actually accused by him of having stolen his phone. Luckily, a Tanzanian came to her defense. Eventually, the man’s phone was found in another man’s bag. Even though the police were there, the thief was surrounded and killed.

As you can see, theft is taken is very seriously in Tanzania. So, last night, as I played volleyball with some civil servants in Ngara, it was not a surprise when some children yelled “mwizi” (thief in Swahili – a word that needs to be used very cautiously, as it has the potential to mean death for the person accused) that everyone came running, not only to inspect their belongings, but to see if the thief was still around. All the volleyball players had put their bags next to a couple of motorcycles and my bicycle, and I was told to inspect my belongs. Immediately I noticed that my pants were strewn over my bicycle, and my heart dropped. I had too much money in my pockets (40,000 tsh, or around $30), and my cell phone (which, luckily, is the cheapest phone money can buy). Luckily, my cell phone, with all its numbers, was still in my pocket, but the money was gone. I have lost more to theft in the past, and since I still had my phone, I was feeling pretty lucky, though I didn’t really understand what was going on since everything else was in Swahili. On hearing that I’d lost 40,000 tsh, my Tanzanian friend jumped on his motorcycle with a boy and drove off. I had no idea where he’d gone, and while my friend is a lot more moderate than many Tanzanians, it was hard for me not to worry somewhat about what was going to happen to this boy.

I waited at the field for 45 minutes or so with a few of the Tanzanians I had been playing volleyball with, until a guy on a bike showed up and said my friend had asked him to accompany me home, since my friend had left his phone, wallet, and laptop with me. It was 7:30 at this point, so it was dark. I arrived home, and waited for my friend to arrive. Around 8:30, he arrived with a friend, and a cowering little boy. He handed me my money, and proceeded to tell me that the boy he had left the field with knew some other boys, who knew where the boy lived. My friend had found the boy’s house, but he ran off after my friend arrived. My friend hid behind some banana trees, and awaited the return of the boy. Eventually he caught him, and after some coercive action the boy led him to where he had hidden the money.

I was happy to have the money returned, but more than anything I was happy that my friend has approached the situation so well. The boy did not look too worse for wear, though he was obviously terrified, and my friend said that he hoped he had been able to teach the boy a lesson. I think that if many other Tanzanians had been in my friend’s shoes, the boy might not be alive at this point. Even so, I have no idea what happened to him after he was returned to his parents. So, while it was nice to get my money back, I couldn’t help but worry about the boy. I hope that he has learned a lesson, but I hope that the lesson was not literally beat into him by disapproving parents.