Conning: An ailment that must be tackled

OPINION/EDITORIAL






By Wilson Kaigarula


IN SUMMARY

It’s debatable whether the Loliondo miracle cure ( the herbal concoction mugariga), courtesy of retired cleric Reverend Ambilikile Masapila, to which thousands upon thousands of people in and beyond Tanzania were attracted iron filings-upon-magnet-like for a year or so from 2011, fits into the equation.

One of the features of our beloved Kiswahili is that, the language hosts catchy words and expressions. Two of them, relatively new additions to the vocabulary, capture nicely, the fate that befell a would-have-been investor in Tabata ward in Dar es Salaam Region’s Ilala District, in which I reside, three or so years ago.

The expressions are: ‘kuingizwa mjini’ and ‘kichwa-kichwa’. The man was shown a fairly vast playground by crooks who claimed its ownership.

He paid a substantial amount of money upfront but was shocked when it subsequently transpired that the piece of land was the property of operators of a children’s rehabilitation centre.

Our friend may have been his own enemy for being recklessly sweet-talked into the dubious deal. But even people who perceive themselves too wise to be conned, or those who other people consider beyond conning, fall into the traps, in spite of having taken precautionary steps.

Out there in the suburbs of urban centres, there are several disputes that revolve around two or more individuals laying claim to particular pieces of land, which each of the claimants had negotiated with the seller, had paid for the property and obtained supporting documents. Many of the disputes end up in court and years drag by before rulings are made, and in between, many hearts are broken.

We then have cases of mass conning, good ( or is it bad ?) cases being financial pyramid schemes like Upatu and Deci, whereby adults in seemingly right senses were duped into believing that, after parting with little sums of money, they would become millionaires in due course. Were they to heed the ‘when the deal sounds too good to be true, beware’ caution, they would have spared themselves of heart-aches.

It’s debatable whether the Loliondo miracle cure ( the herbal concoction mugariga), courtesy of retired cleric Reverend Ambilikile Masapila, to which thousands upon thousands of people in and beyond Tanzania were attracted iron filings-upon-magnet-like for a year or so from 2011, fits into the equation.

But, surely, to imagine that a cup-ful of a syrup that hadn’t undergone scientific tests and certificed as effective could cure diseases that incude HIV/Aids, diabetes, high blood pressure, was puzzling.

All around us, though, people are being conned, not because they are naïve or dull, but are victims of crooks of various strands.

We buy all manner of shiny, eye-and-heart-seducing electronic devices that may be relatively cheap, but which we have to replace at short intervals because they have a short shelf life. Out of frustration, we crave for secondhand staff – from garments to refrigerators.

We are furthermore conned by private schools hosting fake teachers and hospitals operated by fake personnel; and our lives are endangered by drivers with fake licences, or those with genuine ones but, for whom bhang is an essential ingredient for firing their enthusiasm.

And, overall, poor public services is an expression of mass conmanship – a disease that may not be as worrisome as malaria and HIV/Aids, but a disease, nonetheless, that should exercise our serious attention.