Independent consultant and blogger in Dar es Salaam
I saw Aga Khan hospitals and schools from childhood, a pattern of good deeds that is familiar due to my own Abrahamic religions preferred public services. It is one of the best things about Tanzania in my opinion—I enjoy our religious and cultural variety.
The involvement of diverse groups in our civil society and public service sectors prevents us from getting too weirdly homogenous, too crushed by our government’s lack of funds.
In Zanzibar, over the course of a decade—maybe two—I watched Stone Town get rehabilitated slowly and carefully. The streets were cobbled, beautiful and unique manhole covers appeared, Forodhani Gardens went through a transformation. Eventually I asked. A labour of love, I was told, on the part of the Aga Khan.
I was well into my adulthood when I finally found the wherewithal to ask: who, what, and why?
The ‘who’ was the late Prince Karim Al-Hussaini, Aga Khan IV, spiritual leader of the Ismaili Muslims community from the tender age of 20. Also, a billionaire and massive super fan of the East African region—Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda in particular.
The ‘what’ is a family of institutions and businesses designed to invest in East Africa for profit as well as for the greater good.
The ‘why,’ though?
Billie Holiday sang that ‘Them that's got shall have / Them that’s not shall lose... But God bless the child that’s got his own.’ In this time of megalomanic billionaires who use the media to muddy the communal pool at every opportunity, Them That’s Got are collectively out of favour. With that bad rap following the money, philanthropy is also struggling. We’re becoming a dreadfully cynical world.
The ‘why’ has many layers, I am sure. The ties that bind the people of the Bahar Hind, the Indian Ocean, across geography also span time. Charitable work is a core tenet of faith.
One would have to be a fool not to invest in Africa. I can throw all kinds of rational reasons out there, but it feels like the late Aga Khan might have given East Africa something more useful and precious than cold hard rationality.
Namely a deep and abiding commitment over the course of his life that looks suspiciously like true friendship.
The story of how the Aga Khan came to own a media house in East Africa is well documented and I won’t repeat it here.
I can’t imagine that it was easy to uphold over time, media houses are like boats and restaurants: an excellent way to lose a fortune. Yet here we are.
A labour of love, I am told, by the Aga Khan. May he rest in peace.
I am left disturbed by a question posed by his legacy to all of us, a question that will occupy me for the rest of my life: what have I done with the gifts that I have been given? How about you?
Elsie Eyakuze is an independent consultant and blogger for The Mikocheni Report.
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