Karibu Uyui Tabora


Thanks for visiting this site and you will never regret.
Welcome to this wonderful and informative site of Uyui. Uyui is at the heart of Tabora Region located in the western part of the United Republic of Tanzania. Not many people are aware of its beauty and the compassionate of its people. The Wanyamwezi, a popular tribe whose people are lovely and full of aptical culture that is demonstrated by their simple life. Wanyamwezi are the local residents of Tabora.
Karibu (welcome) to Uyui so that you can learn the untold story and the wonderful lifestyle of Wanyamezi Tribe.

BACK FROM TABORA MINUS HONEY2004-03-14 07:40:15
By Nimi Mweta

Have you ever heard of Nhobora? Well, I was recently a short-time visitor to that town, which is presently known as Tabora.
According to elderly residents of the capital of what one may call Nyamweziland, colonialists had difficulties in pronouncing the name Nhobora and corrupted it into Tabora. The new name stuck ever since and became official.
My trip to Tabora was not plain sailing though. I first tasted the bitterness of the trip at the Ubungo bus terminal in Dar es Salaam.
Like a pack of hyenas converging on the carcass of a goat, and each struggling to get as big a chunk of “marehemu mbuzi”as possible, nearly half a dozen passenger hunters encircled me.

Each of them was singing the praises of the bus company whose tickets he was hawking, and from which he would pocket a few precious shillings as commission. Much as my interest was on Tabora as the destination, Moshi, Sngea, Tanga, Iringa and God knows which other towns, were shouted out at high-pitched tones by the ticket vendors.
Somehow, everyone was “sure” that I was intending to travel to where he had mentioned, and felt betrayed when I announced that I was heading elsewhere. “Umeniangusha mzee,” the most disappointed amongst them lamented, implying that I had let him down.
Naturally, I picked out the relevant vendor, who organized a booking for me and briefed me on the logistics on safari day.

Come the day, I checked into the terminal at 6 o’clock, in time for the 6.30 am “drive-off” time. Tension begun to mount when I didn’t see the bus owned by the company whose name was indicated on the ticket. Shortly before the degree of tension rose to explosion point, I was rescued by a man who was apparently a terminal insider, who had noted my restlessness.

He put me at ease by leading me, like a shepherd leads a sheep, to a bus nearing a different name. He handed me over to a conductor who told me that the two bus companies had a brother-sister relationship.

I later learnt that actually, passengers are booked on up to four different buses but they end up travelling on only one of them.

This situation breeds confusion, whereby in some cases, three passengers are allocated one seat and the conductor has a hard time sorting out the mess and cooling frayed nerves.

The bus didn’t have enough room for luggage in the boot as well as the interior luggage carrier. As a result, some suitcases and other types of luggage were put in the corridor and.

Was stepped on by those who disembarked from and boarded the bus whenever it stopped. No one complained because everyone appreciated the crude situation that is best captured by the Kiswahili expression, “Hali halisi”.

After stops in Dodoma and Manyoni, we arrived at Singida at around 8 o’clock, My body was aching due to the long length of the trip and the bumping caused by the several poor sections of the road. We all slept in the bus as a precaution, because by sleeping in a gust house, one would risk being left behind by the bus, which was scheduled to leave close to dawn.

Sleeping in a bus entails application of guerrilla tactics, because there isn’t enough room to stretch yourself fully. You coil yourself like a millipede, rest your head on the seat in front of you, or on your own.

You close your eyes, silently tell the rest of the body that it is lying on a smooth mattress at home, and pray to God to grant you some sleep.

At around 6 0‘clock, we got to Sekenke—a place notorious for accidents due to a very steep hill and sharp corners, and which some locals claim is under the spell of demons. Two haulage trucks, which had failed to climb the hill, had blocked the road.

The road was cleared some five hours later, by which time most of us were starving because the nearest trading centre, where we could get food, was located about ten kilometres away.

When I eventually reached Tabora at around 9 o’clock, I felt like I was a mobile corpse due to fatigue and hunger.

I literally rose from the dead about one hour later, after taking a shower, taking a heavy meal and doing justice to three cold beers that bear the name of a huge animal.

One of the things that fascinated me about Tabora was the incredibly big number of bicycles.

A seasoned Taboran told me that the town has the second highest bicycle population in Tabora after Shinyanga, which, like Mwanza, is inhabited mainly by the Sukuma, who are ethnic cousins of the Nyamwezi, and both of whose love for the two-wheel machines is phenomenal.

While the bicycles are a convenient means of transport, though, they have created a curious by-product——theft.

Bicycle theft is so rampant that one of the places where warnings to that effect have been prominently displayed is the administrative block that houses the regional commissioner’s office!

Another curious dimension is that while walking on the sidewalks of streets, a pedestrian has to be on the look-out for bicycles, which seem to pose a bigger danger than vehicles.

Besides bicycles, something else that the people of Tabora are not lacking——but in this case both of the town and the region that bears a similar name——are mango trees and the sweet fruits that they produce.

My hosts told me something about a certain species of Tabora women, which was both amusing and frightening.

They said those daughters of Eve are so skilled as lovers that once a stranger gets hooked to one of them, he may end up abandoning his wife and the rest of the family, and become a full-time Tabora resident! I wasn’t courageous enough to experiment on that phenomenon, for fear that it could be true and I would end up not only family-less, but jobless as well.

As a resident of Dar es Salaam, where the pace of life is so fast, the noise so much and quite many people are so rough, I found the relative quietness of Tabora and the fellowship spirit of its residents quite refreshing.

I was in Tabora not as a tourist but on an official assignment——to conduct a feature writing course for journalists, under the combined auspices of the Media Council of Tanzania and the Tabora Press Club. It was thus serious business, but serious business can produce interesting discoveries and light moments.

I chanced to see Tabora Sound Jazz Band in action and to watch entertainment seekers dancing to its hot rhythms of “Sesema Malunde”. I discovered that one of my students, Conrad Robert, was a part-time member of the band.

Conrad is apparently demonstrating that as a journalist during daytime and a musician at night, he is effectively playing his triple role as an informer, educator and entertainer.

Another student turned out to be a son of the seasoned Radio Tanzania broadcaster, Ben Kiko. It is apparent that the young man, Moshi, who works for Tabora Television, is out to become the torch bearer of the journalistic profession of his father, who retired recently.

Yet another student was a girl, both of whose names were traditional and neither of which I could memorize and pronounce easily.

I decided to christen her temporarily {and illegally} as Sophia, and thankfully, she didn’t protest; and her course-mates picked it as semi-official.
I hesitated to buy honey, which, alongside tobacco, is a trademark product of the region.

This was because at the shopping centre where I could have done so, each of the sellers was claiming that his product was genuine and what his competitors were advertising was fake.
Unsure who was telling the truth and who was lying, I ignored all of them and returned to Dar honey-less.

I realized during the return trip to Tabora, that creativity in terms of coining fanciful names and phrases is not the preserve of Dar es Salaam-based traders. A restaurant operating from a mud-walled structure with rusty aluminium sheet roofing was named “Sheraton”, the precursor of Dar`s Royal Palm.

Another restaurant was named after Basra, the Iranian city that was frequently in the news during and after the recent war between Western coalition forces and Saddam Hussein`s regime.Yet another was christened Washington DC.

On my return trip, I stopped over in Dodoma for a night, in order to minimize fatigue that attends an almost non-stop marathon bus ride.

The room in the modest hotel in which I slept bore not a number, but a name——Havana! I was amused, because the room didn’t have even the slightest trace of the Cuban capital city.

If I were the owner of the hotel, I would decorate the room with a painting of a happy Cuban man smoking a cigar; just like I would grace the room named Bukoba in a Havana-based hotel in Havana, with a picture of a happy woman eating boiled bananas.

SOURCE: Sunday Observer

32 Responses to “Karibu Uyui Tabora”

  1. Anonymous Says:

    bila kumsahau makoye gimbuya aliyehamiaga mihayo

  2. Anonymous Says:

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    • uyui Says:

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      • Fatuma Aden Says:

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  3. elikana masanja Says:

    Mimi naitwa Elikana Moses Masanja nilisoma hapo Uyui Secondary kati ya mwaka 1981 – 1984, Sasa hivi Engineer niko TTCL

  4. Anonymous Says:

    HI Nafurahi kuupata ukurasa huu mimi naitwa Elikana Moses Masanja nilisoma Uyui Secondary 1981 – 1984 kwa sasa hivi ni engineer niko TTCLmakao makuu
    , Kwa wote tuliokua nao naomba tuwasiliane

  5. Mwenda.Ahmed. Mwenda Says:

    Nashukuru sana kwa uanzishwaji wa ukurasa huu. Mimi ninaitwa Mwenda Ahmed Mwenda NISOMA Uyui 1977-1980. Hivi sasa nipo Tanesco Makao Makuu DSM kitengo cha mawasiliano. Baada ya kusoma ukurasa huu nimefarijika sana kwa kupata habari za watu mbali mbali na watu kujuana .Uyui wakati ule tuliiishi kama familia moja na tulikuwa na mahusino mazuri walimu na wanafunzi kati yetu. Mwenyezi Mungu azidi kutujaajlia sote.
    Amin.

  6. mohamed seif Says:

    Mimi NI mohamed Seif nilimaliza shule 1981,hivi sasa niko vienna

    • Fatuma Aden Says:

      mimi ni Fatuma Aden nilimaliza 1981 unamikumbuka sasa niko Canada, Toronto

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  10. SELEMANI ABDALA MKANGALA Says:

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  11. SELEMANI ABDALA MKANGALA Says:

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  12. SELEMANI ABDALA MKANGALA Says:

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    • uyui Says:

      Kamanda Mkangala, karibu sana.

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  18. Rasta Sele Says:

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    selemanikisesa@yahoo.com
    bob kiss

    • uyui Says:

      Dear Rasta Sele
      Karibu tena Uyui. Tumefurahi sana. Kama unawakumbuka baadhi ya rafiki zako mliosoma nao tafadhali tupatie majina yao ili tujiunganishe.
      Uyui

    • Anonymous Says:

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    • Anonymous Says:

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  19. GODLISTEN J. MASANJA Says:

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    Thanks.

  20. Welcome “karibu” Tabora and Uyui- by Maganga Feruzi « Uyui Says:

    […] Uyui so that you can learn the untold story and the wonderful lifestyle of Wanyamezi Tribe. Edit | Leave a Comment » Posted in The History of Tabora- kazeh town. Tags: Add new tag, mboka, Tabora. 2 Comments […]


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