How rogue riders smeared Zanzibar’s splendour

What makes you realise you have landed in Zanzibar Island is the sight of graceful tall palm trees swaying rhythmically to the soft ocean breeze.

It is 11am when we arrive at the Abeid Karume International Airport. Several white vans with red registration number plates are meticulously waiting to ferry visitors to their various destinations.

Our host Kassim Omar waves at us towards a gaudy cab and after exchanging pleasantries, we soon proceed to our hotel in Stone Town.

The town, also known as Mji Mkongwe, is located on the western coast of Zanzibar Island and is the central business district of Zanzibar City.  The road from the airport is somewhat busy with mostly taxis and buses used to ferry the public. Here, they call them daladala and the nightmare of traffic gridlock is unheard of.

We are fast approaching Stone Town when, out of the blues, a motorcyclist wearing only a black helmet cuts through us on a bend and speeds off swaying precariously.

The driver brakes muttering under his breath with the sudden impact jolting us back to reality.

It is only when we reach Stone Town that the full craze of motorcycle public transporters, known as boda boda, becomes evident.

For a moment, you get confused if you’re actually in the famous Zanzibar as furiously hooting car drivers face off with boda bodas, bajaj popularly known as tuktuk in Kenya and pedestrians.

You have to be careful walking in these streets because boda boda operators are impetuously ferrying passengers and goods with reckless abandon.

We trudge through unmarked cul-de-sacs, and for a city that drives on the left, you will have to step aside for loaded boda bodas moving in the opposite direction to pass.

There’s zero regard to traffic rules and even their own safety. No rider is wearing a reflector jacket and       or two has made efforts to protect themselves by wearing a helmet.  Here, you don’t need to be a genius to decipher the impending if not already simmering cataclysm of an unregulated boda boda sector in Zanzibar.

It is at Shamba Mawe in Nungwi village, a one hour drive from the city, where we come face to face with the stark reality of how boda boda accidents take a toll on citizens' health.

We are cordially received by Asumini Simimi, who swiftly wakes her husband Juma Hamisi.

All their 10 children, save for the eldest son, are present and they sit on a mat intrigued by our presence.

Juma is obviously a proud father, which is evident from the way his face lights up as he introduces all his children by name.

Their sixth born daughter Fatma Juma is using clutches. The 21-year-old has just arrived from an orthopaedic session at Mnazi Mmoja Hospital, the biggest referral hospital in Zanzibar.

Fatma spent two weeks in a coma at the Intensive Care Unit following a serious boda boda accident.

December 6, 2021 will forever be etched in this family’s memory as the day their lives took an unanticipated turn.  The conspicuous stitch scars across Fatma’s temples on the face, around her head and her left leg from the ankle up to the groin are a vivid reminder of how fortunate she is to be alive.

Her husband and her unborn child were, however, not lucky as they died instantly in the grisly accident.  On the fateful day, Fatma, who was by then four months pregnant with their third child, together with her cousin Razia Kasimu, were headed to work in Nungwi town before the boda boda that was being ridden by her husband collided with a daladala in Baobao area.

“It was 6am in the morning and as usual we were headed to the town where I used to work as ‘Mama N’tilie. When we reached Baobao, a bus came suddenly from nowhere and hit us. That is the last thing I remember,” she recounts.

“I lost consciousness only to wake up two weeks later at Mnazi Mmoja Hospital after I was transferred from Kivunge Hospital. I was told my cousin was in the same hospital and that my husband had been taken to Pemba Island. My parents were hesitant to disclose to me that he had already passed on.”

It took weeks of intensive counselling from Kadhis to help their daughter come to terms with the tragedy.  Her unborn baby had died in the womb as a result of the impact and she had to be induced with labour to eject the foetus.

Other than the psychological and emotional turmoil, Asumini’s family has also been thrown into financial disarray as they have to deal with treatment and medicine expenses.  “We are grateful that our daughter is slowly recovering. But it has really been expensive. Her leg was also broken from the hip and she needed to have metal implants which cost us around Sh1 million,” explains her father.

Then there are daily doses that she cannot sleep without. She is constantly in pain especially when the weather turns cloudy. They have to pay doctors for her weekly checkups and there are also taxi expenses when we have to transport her for treatment.

Our visit to the Accidents and Emergency Section in Kivungeni Hospital and Mnazi Mmoja Referral Hospital established that the majority of the patients being treated for minor and severe injuries are survivors of boda boda-related accidents.

New national statistics released last month paint a grim picture of boda boda-related accidents, where a total of 3,268 cases were reported among them 1,245 fatalities in 2021.

Among those who succumbed were 56 school children, raising alarm over the blatant disregard of basic safety measures in the sector that is increasingly endearing itself among parents as an affordable means of transportation to school.

Experts warn that the probability of getting involved in a boda boda accidents is 29 times higher than while on a vehicle in Zanzibar.

Recklessness, alcohol and substance abuse among boda boda riders contributes largely to these accidents.  The boda boda industry in this island began in 2005 and most operators are young men aged below 30 years.  Majority, if not all of them, are novices to public road safety, with little to no basic education. Only a few have completed secondary education.

According to Mak Masudi, a boda boda representative in Mahonda, most of these youths would be forced to work as beach boys or engage in criminal activities to fend for their families since they tend to marry early as per their customs and culture.

Apart from low education levels, most of them do not have basic training on traffic safety rules and regulations and it is little wonder that only a few of them have licences.

There are no specific passageways for pedestrians and motorcyclists and most roads are not marked. No bumps in the potholed roads in the outskirts of Zanzibar City.

Until last July, the sector had been largely unregulated, with youths as young as 16 year old venturing into the boda boda business without licences, as Mdungi Shariff, a Kaskazini A administrator, informs us.

“Initially, there were no specific rules and procedures to regulate it and everyday people would just sprout from nowhere and start ferrying commuters,” he reveals.

Last year’s laws are gradually being implemented. They include registration, licensing, training on safety and guidelines for apprehending defaulters.

However, boda bodas still stick out like a sore thumb and are now the proverbial unwanted guests not only to taxi operators due to business competition, but also to locals in the largely Muslim nation.

From several riders and taxi drivers who spoke to Healthy Nation, it is crystal clear that there is no love lost between motorists , be it personal vehicles, cabs and boda boda riders even as both parties point an accusing finger to each other.

“Vehicle drivers detest boda bodas. Some drivers even speak openly that if they encounter a boda boda rider on the road they will just knock them down. They are killing us yet most of the time they are the ones on the wrong,” says Naseeb Selemani, a boda boda representative.

But the island’s middle and upper class have for years abhorred boda boda riders. So great was their distaste towards boda bodas that they barricaded roads in the villages to prevent them from conducting their business.

“The locals are slowly warming up to us but at first most of them did not want us at all,” says 28-year- old Maksudi Ali.

But to some like Zulekha Asimini, boda bodas are a blessing in disguise.

“I afford to pay for taxis all the time as they charge from Sh2,500 compared to bodabodas , who charge as low as Sh50,” says the mother of two as she hitches herself to ride pillion sitting with her legs facing the same side behind the rider.

The new regulations under the Road Traffic Act also require riders to undergo mandatory training in certified driving schools. Wearing helmets for riders and pillion riders is also a requirement.

Despite the new regulations, clearly there is still a long way to go as it has turned out to be a cat and mouse game between law enforcers and the riders.

“We are not opposed to the training. We cannot afford it. The training centres should be spread across the country to cushion us from incurring unnecessary expenses,” argues Mbwana Juma, a boda boda operator based at Mahonda.