BY G. MADARAKA NYERERE
Years of driving between Butiama and Musoma have led me to befriend police officers who frequently stop me along the road. Occasionally, they ask me for cash to buy “lunch” or “water” and I usually oblige. But I sometimes wonder whether I am merely comforting myself with the illusion of being a considerate citizen rather than a bribe-giver. Even when no favour is explicitly requested, does my money create an expectation of leniency or preferential treatment?
Many years ago, I ran a clearing and forwarding business. My employees routinely carried small amounts of cash for customs, port and airport personnel because refusing to pay meant delays in clearing clients’ goods. When one Dar es Salaam-based foreign client noticed non-receipted amounts on his invoice, he asked: “You are telling me you are paying a bribe to clear my goods?” I affirmed that I was, adding: “In your country, you call it a tip.” My logic was – and remains – that whether paid before or after the service, its intended effect is ultimately the same: Preferential service.
A dictionary makes clear distinctions between a bribe, a tip, a facilitation payment, a service fee and a commission. But set aside the grammatical and linguistic nuances and it takes little effort to see that the extra tree felled in the Amazon to create another dictionary entry may conceal an identical effect: Money changes human behaviour and encourages preferential treatment. It can accelerate processes or buy access. If I stopped my “lunch” and “water” allowances on the Butiama – Musoma road, I might soon discover that I never had genuine friends among the police.
Developing countries face severe criticism for corrupt practices, sometimes justifiably, but often without acknowledging similar practices elsewhere. In some countries, underhand payments are demanded to secure access to senior government officials. In the developed world, the more dignified language is that lobbyists, consultants and fixers “facilitate access” through fundraising events, commissions or networking fees. The terminology can make one practice seem despicable and the other respectable, even when the underlying exchange of money for access or advantage is remarkably similar.
Rather than destroy forests to publish dictionaries describing the nuances of corrupt practices, society should ask a simpler question: What is the payment buying? If money is necessary to obtain what one is already legally entitled to or to receive treatment otherwise unavailable without payment, it deserves condemnation regardless of its name. On reflection, I think I am about to lose some friends along the road to Musoma.
madaraka.nyerere@gmail.com
