THE AZANIA–TAMBAZA CONFLICT XXXII

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Adeladius Makwega – DODOMA

In the previous article, I promised to answer two questions about a lawyer from the Ministry of Justice to whom I had been given appeal documents to deliver and inform you about their contents.
However, today I will postpone that matter so that I can respond to your questions, my reader.

 

The first to raise an opinion was Mr. Philemon Felix. He says that Brigadier Kotta’s wife is called Margaret Kotta, who was a teacher at Tambaza Secondary School. He adds that she taught History there between 1976 and 1979.

 

Mr. Felix concludes by saying that this woman’s last-born daughter is the beautiful Faraja Kotta.

 

Mr. Felix’s comments are supported by those of Mr. Daniel Mbura, who begins with the greeting: “Hello, Mr. Makwega!” I replied, “I’m fine.”

 

“Faraja Kotta is married to Lazaro Nyarandu, a former Minister of Natural Resources, but I don’t know where they live.”

From Mr. Mbura’s comment, it gives us a chance to look for Faraja Kotta herself to answer the question. However, if she is married to Lazaro Nyarandu, who was a Member of Parliament in Singida, then it likely means Faraja Kotta lives in Singida. That would mean she moved across regions—from Dar es Salaam, Coast, Morogoro, Dodoma, all the way to Singida.

 

In other words, the people of Singida outdid the clever ones from Dar es Salaam—congratulations to the Wanyiramba and Wanyaturu. My Wanyiramba friends, you may now need to create an artificial ocean in Singida so that Faraja Kotta can visit it!

 

After all, this beautiful lady was born and raised along the Indian Ocean coast—if she wants fresh sea breeze, it only takes her a minute’s walk.

 

Anicete Kalinjuna also raises a question: who took Fausta’s watch? Answering that question would spoil the story, but briefly: the three individuals—Arone, Mohammed, and Adeladius (myself)—were not involved at all. The person responsible was someone else who is now a religious leader. At that time, he was among the students of class 3R1. His name is Ng’itu Pereira. He studied peacefully, encountered no trouble, and completed Form Four successfully in 1994.

 

This matter remained a mystery to me for many years until 2010, when I was working at TBC. Security guards informed me that I had a visitor at the gate.

 

I responded and met someone I had studied with 17 years earlier. He greeted me politely, standing beside a Toyota Hilux. He asked if I remembered him. I said yes and mentioned his name—Ng’itu Pereira. I assumed he might have come to TBC for broadcasting work.

 

He told me, “Brother, I’ve come because there’s something troubling me that I want us to discuss. When I realized you work here, I decided to come see you.”

There were other people in the car, so he moved aside near the TBC building, by a road leading to the market.

 

I wondered what he wanted.

He asked, “Do you remember that incident involving Arone Sifuni, Mohammed Said, and you?” I laughed and said yes.

 

“I was the one who caused that trouble, and I took that girl’s watch. I’ve come to ask for your forgiveness. I am now a man of faith—please forgive me.”

 

I felt a deep sadness. I asked him if he had looked for Arone Sifuni and Mohammed Said.

He asked, “Where are they?”

I replied that Arone Sifuni passed away in 1994 and that I did not know Mohammed Said’s whereabouts.

I told him that I had forgiven him. He then said goodbye, got into his car, and left, while I returned to work.

 

We stayed in touch for some time, although I no longer have his contact.

 

It turns out he had been looking for me for many years and had even told some of our former classmates about the matter. Many were surprised because he had never been a troublesome student, and no one suspected him.

The one you think is responsible may not be the one at all.

I believe that wherever Arone Sifuni is, he too has forgiven Ng’itu Pereira.

 

“Today, I conclude this matter of the watch by saying: do not be too quick to judge Judas for betraying Jesus, for it was also written that Judas would betray Him.”

 

Another reader, who asked to remain anonymous, asked whether we were ever prevented from entering Peter Pinda’s home.

 

According to witnesses—Ibrahimu Liguo, Hamisi Ramadhani, Emmanuel Yesaya, Heriheri Haggai, Bernard Lema, Atanas Luis, and myself—we were never stopped from entering, even though he had very fierce dogs.

 

As I mentioned in previous articles, I am certain he held a government position, although I did not know which one. Considering his neighbors—Judge Mkude, Regional Commissioner Nsa Kaisi, Brigadier Kotta, and Judge Augustino Ramadhan—I am convinced he was an important person. Yet at that time, he was very accessible—remember even the train driver.

 

Furthermore, the fact that he kept cows and allowed people to buy milk on credit or cash shows he was approachable and trusted by his neighbors. A person who is not trusted would not have people coming to buy milk from their home.

 

To conclude today’s questions and comments, I advise those in public positions to remain accessible. First, that position is not yours—it belongs to the millions of Tanzanians. Second, it is temporary—after 10–15 years at most, it ends, and you return to being an ordinary citizen.

 

Someone else from that same society will take over, because the position cannot remain vacant.

 

Third, when given a public role, you represent your background—whether religion, tribe, or region. Make sure your people can easily reach you.

 

For example, when High Court Judge Salum Masatti was serving, it is said that people from Ulanga—Wapogoro, Wandamba, and Wangindo—would first go to his home for legal advice before proceeding to court. Whether he advised them himself or referred them to lawyers, he helped them.

 

Even if they lost their cases, because they were warmly received at his home, they would still speak well of him when they returned to their villages.

 

Finally, I understand there are security concerns for public figures, but create an environment where people can be respectfully screened so that, in the end, your people can still reach you. After all, they are the ones you were born with, grew up with, studied with—and perhaps the ones who will bury you.

Let me end here for today.

Remember, this is part of the series The Azania–Tambaza Conflict XXXII.

Have a good day.

makwadeladius@gmail.com

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