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A Tanzanian birthright: Pay bribes or suffer

by Kizito Makoye | @kizmakoye | Thomson Reuters Foundation
Wednesday, 10 October 2012 15:47 GMT

* Any views expressed in this opinion piece are those of the author and not of Thomson Reuters Foundation.

 By Kizito Makoye

Corruption in Tanzania has made it difficult for the people to enjoy their basic rights. It is so endemic that you can do virtually nothing important without paying bribes. Processing a birth certificate of your child is an uphill task. Unless you rub the palm of someone, you cannot get one. Yet this is wrong.

The constitution of Tanzania clearly states, a birth certificate is a right of citizenship. A child born in the United Republic is entitled to have one. Without a birth certificate you can hardly manage the intricacies of modern life; you need it to put your child to school, to obtain a passport let alone to open a bank account and get access to important social services.

Securing a birth certificate, however, is a cumbersome and nerve wracking process in Tanzania -- often characterized by rotten bureaucracy -- a key feature of a shambolic civil service.  A survey conducted in 2004/5 showed that out of every 100 live births in Tanzania, only six are registered and issued with birth certificates, the lowest rate in sub-Saharan Africa.

I will never forget the hide -and -seek game that I played as I was celebrating the birth of my daughter on 28th March, 2008. The officer in charge of registering particulars of  new born babies at Mission Mikocheni Hospital in Dar es Salaam repeatedly asked me to give him Chai -- euphemism for a bribe.  He insisted that I pay him something so that he could write down the details of my daughter in a hand-written ledger, from which data is taken to the district registrar to process the birth certificate.

So many questions were swirling in my mind for it was morally wrong for me to give bribes for that someone to do his job. Yet he was such an important figure that his signature was necessary.  I used the only weapon I had, the power of a journalist who is bound to tell the truth without fear or favour. I was forced to threaten that I was going to report him to the higher authority, possibly the Prevention and Combating of Corruption Bureau (PCCB). He reluctantly signed the document bearing the names of my daughter.

As a news editor of a weekly newspaper (The Express) with a vast experience in reporting corruption, I refuse to be part of the conspiracy of giving and taking bribes. To me it will ever remain immoral and unacceptable, no matter how much money is involved.

As I was rushing my heavily pregnant wife to the hospital that night, I could see the suffering that people go through at the whim of negligent hospital attendants who value money more than anything else. Poor people have become the victims of corruption; people are forced to pay bribes in order to get a service.

A few yards away a pregnant woman was groaning helplessly in the full glare of a nurse who insisted that she could not attend her because she did not possess a clinic card. How shameful!

As we approached the labour room the gynaecologist, Dr. Asser Mchomvu, acted very professionally. My wife’s waters had broken and the doctor assured me, it was a signal that the baby was due.  In about an hour’s time my wife was in labour and around 8:35 p.m. the ordeal ended.  Karen Shigela was born weighing 2.6 kgs.

The joy of having a new life was short-lived, though, because at the back of my mind I knew that getting the birth certificate would be another hiccup.  That document was crucial.  Birth and  death registrations in Tanzania are governed by a 1921 law which says it is a punishable offence for anyone to ask for payment to perform a duty which is supposed to be rendered for free.  A month after my daughter was born I went to the District Commissioner’s office to start the process.  Respective district hospitals are supposed to submit a list of new borns and related information so that the issuing authority can issue the document.  But due to poor filing systems in many hospitals, the process is normally delayed.  Njoo Kesho (‘Check with us tomorrow’) has become the code word.

That is how corruption sets in. If you are unlucky the process can go on for months.  In a bid to manage births and deaths information, the government has now formed a new agency -- the Registration Insolvency and Trusteeship Agency -- to replace the ineffective one.  But the same mentality and attitude prevails. The official fee for a birth certificate is Tanzanian shillings 3500 ($2.20), but sometimes people are forced to pay up to Tsh.10,000 ($6.27).  Even a typist whose job is to print names on the certificates will ask you for a little bribe. A store keeper who looks through dusty shelves to match information will ask you for a cup of milk.

What if I was not a journalist? Could I ever secure this important document without risking paying bribes? How many Tanzanians are skilled enough to avoid corruption traps to obtain  their rights?  Maybe that explains why Tanzania is still poor, despite all the resources we have at our disposal.  

Kizito Makoye is a journalist based in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania

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