THE  ARUSHA TIMES

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ISSN 0856-9135;  No. 00211

March 9 - 15, 2002

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A Battle of Legs and Limbs in Ilembula

By lute wa lutengano

It was around 3 p.m. when we finished our 'Makambako Sheraton chicken a la karatasi'. My colleague was now anxious to taste the local bamboo wine "ulanzi'. From the moment we ascended the Kitonga escarpment he had watched in amazement at the thousands of the well tended bamboo shrubs dotting both sides of the road and the accompanying bamboo containers, which collect the wine. It was then that he had expressed his wish to taste the wine at the very first opportunity.

The locals at the 'Makambako Sheraton', which was actually a run down timber kiosk, advised us that the best bamboo wine was the one secured early in the morning. Since we were heading to Ilembula, a few kilometres south west of Makambako, we could place the said order on our arrival there.

Half an hour later we were at Ilembula village. This is an old settlement, which grew up in the mid‑19th century and was later made famous by the arrival of missionaries of the Evangelical Lutheran Church from German. A few years later, in 1912, the Germans built an imposing church, a modern hospital, as well as a nursing school. These facilities are what made and still make the present Ilembula famous.

The Ilembula Lutheran Church built by German missionaries in 1912. (Photo by Lutengano)

My mother was pleasantly surprised to see me. It was almost two years since I had been in Ilembula. As our village house did not have enough bedrooms, I checked‑in my colleague at the Green View Bar and Guesthouse, the Flagstaff hotel in Ilembula.

It was after this that we went out and placed an order for one 'debe' (four gallons?) of ulanzi for the next morning. The ulanzi joint was adjacent to the Green View. Nearby, across the street, we could not fail to notice the very visible announcement 'kiti moto inapatikana hapa' – meaning, 'hot seat (pork) is available here'. Naturally we ended up having a generous dinner of barbecued pork washed down with several cans of Castle beer.

The next day we went and prayed in the famous 1912 church, now belonging to the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Southern Tanzania. Much as Ilembulans have had that church for almost 100 years, it is only the women who seem to be God fearing. That Sunday there were about 15 men inside the cavernous church as against more than 200 women. Please God! Have mercy on Ilembula men!

After the church service we proceeded to a local joint where we secured our debe‑full of ulanzi. The price for all that was a mere 2,000/‑. No wonder, I figured, there were so many village drunkards around. Almost 90% of the patrons here were males. Now I knew where the village male species spent their Sundays.

We later attended a much hyped village football match pitying the Ilembula Hospital doctors and staff against the Daladala conductors or 'wapiga debe'. Because of the hospital in Ilembula several minibuses ply between the village and various towns like, Njombe, Mbeya, Iringa, and Makambako. The 'wapiga debe' are in abundance and can easily mount a formidable football team.

The well‑attended match was more like a battle of legs and limbs than football. But then there was no cause for alarm. Broken limbs could easily be mended at the hospital. It was, however, a welcome afternoon entertainment.

The next morning we were back on the road for the long journey back to Arusha. It was an uneventful drive, save for the fact that we got lost at the famous Morogoro town roundabout.

We arrived at the huge roundabout around noon and stopped to buy some newspapers. On resuming the journey, my colleague who was driving and whose knowledge of the road is scanty, turned west and proceeded along the Dodoma road. I was busy reading the papers and did not notice the wrong turn.

It was a whole hour later when we noticed our folly. We first noticed that the road was not as smooth as the Dar es Salaam one, and that the vehicles plying the road were rather worn out. We then stopped and asked an old man passing by, a tactical question, "Is this road going to Dodoma?" "Yes!" he answered adding, "Actually you are now approaching Dumila". My heart stopped a beat. We had traveled more than 100 kilometres in the wrong direction! I opened a can of castle beer I had in the car and poured it down my throat. We then meekly turned around and began our drive back to Morogoro town and onwards to Arusha.

lutengano@hotmail.com

A major milestone of my sojourn was that my 23 year‑old contraption, which passes for a car, never broke down.

 

 

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