How the city of Dar es Salaam is different from a white rhino

An earthmover demolishes a historical building in Dar es Salaam’s central business district to pave the way for new development. PHOTO | FILE 

By Maria L. Amelina

In Summary

Then one day, five months ago, I was again driving from the airport and the saddest sight of my time in Dar es Salaam hit me like a slap.

Reading the headline on this newspaper last week (Dar in world’s top 50 must-visit places list, January 17, 2014), I couldn’t help thinking back to my first time in this city, just over a year ago.

I remember driving into town through the hustle and bustle of what I now know to be Nyerere Road. Life along the way was lively and vibrant, the colours, the dresses, even the peddlers coming up to the car with bright balloons and appetizing cashew nuts.

Then there were the buildings in the background…well, they were mostly run-of-the-mill…uniform modern constructions of middling quality. It was a bit disquieting. The magic name “Dar es Salaam”, as I had read ahead of my journey, spoke of a Swahili city with centuries of trading history, a melting pot, the door into the heart of East Africa. Where was that long and rich history hiding?

History on the streets

Cities are encyclopedias of the generations that passed through them and formed them. Why could I not read any of this history on the streets of Dar?

Then… there it was, staring me in the face. A block of houses, two – three floors each, proportionate to the trees that framed them. Decorated with arches, whimsical balconies, small galleries at the top and enlivened by the shops at the bottom. Each had a character and a story to tell, but more importantly they formed an ensemble; they had a core. They stood side by side for more than a century, they knew each other. They appeared in harmony with the people in the street, the sunshine that bathed them in warm light, and with the blue ocean at a distance. In a word, they had a soul, they were a soul. I breathed a content breath. I had come to a place with a memory, with a story, and, therefore, with a future. Dar es Salaam did not just sound unique, it was unique.

Then one day, five months ago, I was again driving from the airport and the saddest sight of my time in Dar es Salaam hit me like a slap. The soulful block that welcomed me was no more. Instead, a blind aluminium fence stood in front of me, enclosing its rubble. Behind the aluminium lay, no doubt, the promise of another faceless building without history, without memory, without a soul.

Distinct houses

By now I know the city well enough. I know there are still streets left with distinct houses that continue to tell the unique history of Dares Salaam. Distinct both culturally and architecturally, enough for Dar es Salaam to be prominently featured in the first Unesco Conference on the Swahili Urban Landscapes. But I also know the reality of more and more aluminium fences popping up, hiding more and more destruction. What usually comes next is at best a bland replacement out of the cookie cutter factory of mediocre commercial buildings. Little or no regard for the environment, the past, or the future. Doomed by a handful that is consumed by the desire to make very short-term money. Now, don’t get me wrong. Dar es Salaam and its citizens deserve to have a “new Dar es Salaam”, the one that is modern, comfortable and developed. But this ought to be a city that increases its value with every new asset built. The value of what is created should add, not subtract from the total value of Dar es Salaam as we know it.

Before I moved here, I lived in Washington DC. Once upon a time,DC was a beautiful Southern town with unique alleys, distinct architecture and a way of life. Between the late 50s and early 70s much of downtown DC was destroyed. For the same reason – quick buck at all costs. Then one day the citizens of DC started to realize they are being robbed of their city of their past, of their uniqueness. And that’s how the preservation movement was born. People started to write petitions, promote zoning regulations, and to stand in front of bulldozers.

In their numbers, they made enough noise to make a difference. New regulations were introduced, the real ones, with teeth. Today, if you visit DC you will see two cities – the one that is bland and banal, consisting of interchangeable office buildings (I used to work in that DC). It is the DC built in place of the destroyed Old Town. And then there is the preserved DC, with beautiful old buildings – whole streets of them. I lived in that DC. And many of us shared this reality. After working hours and on weekends, the bland DC dies. No one is to be caught spending their weekend walking around a concrete uninspired jungle. As for the other DC… well, with its little streets, boutique hotels, and nice shops… it is the allure of the masses. Everyone hangs out there, drinks there, eats there, meets friends there, spends money there.

And this is really the point. This elegant Old Washington DC makes a huge amount of money. On real estate prices, on expensive shops, galleries, tourists. It sounds funny but even refurbished servants quarters of a 19th century house now sell for about a million dollars (do not take my word for it, check for yourself the Georgetown real estate listings). So, preserving is not only good for posterity, it is great for your wallet!