Sweeping

There’s a strong tradition in Africa of sweeping the ground. The first thing every housewife does in the morning is to sweep the ground in front of her house. We once used the concept of “swept space” to analyse territory which people treat as their own in squatter settlements. We found it was an excellent indicator – beyond the swept space is common land which individual householders do not claim.

Everyone knows why they sweep. It’s got nothing to do with appearances, and everything to do with snakes. Snakes don’t like being visible, and wide stretches of bare earth are an excellent deterrent to snakes which otherwise might invade houses.

The cleanliness of swept areas is a reflection of the internal cleanliness of the houses themselves. They are always immaculate, even in the most difficult of inner-city settlements.

Now take a leap, not very far, to a government office. The ground outside is unkempt: no sweeping here. Inside, it is the same. The floor has not been swept for weeks. The walls are dirty. Doors will not shut properly, and plaster is falling off the walls. Tables are coated with dust. Do not sit down too quickly in a proffered chair: it is also coated. I recall an embarrassing meeting with a Minister when I did just that, and my dark suit was coated with a rich red gilding of dust. The functionaries were quite embarrassed, and hurried to dust me down and clean the other chairs where our delegation were to sit.

The puzzle is, if we are so clean at home, what happens when we get to the office? Is there no one to clean? That seems unlikely: around and within all government offices are many people, sitting down, looking very bored. One thing is clear, they are not members of the public waiting for service. So why doesn’t someone feel like cleaning? Is it a lack of tools? How come every housewife has the tools – admittedly not always the finest since they can be as simple as tree branches – but no one in the office has? Is that it?

There could be another reason. The civil servants don’t get paid, or if they do get paid it is very little. Making the office dirty could be an act of defiance, a way of drawing attention to the fact that they are not treated with respect. If you don’t think we matter, the argument could run, then we’ll show you that we do matter by not doing our work. It’s not a strike, but something like that.

But there’s a bigger question. If this is indeed the explanation, don’t the bosses want to make a difference, and instruct the minions to do their work? Apparently not. Seeing a woman minister, bedecked in wonderful traditional dress picking her high heels through the dirt of the passageway without showing any sign of distress or acknowledging any mismatch between her personal finery and the public squalor, makes one wonder.

Footnote: This may be changing. Since the celebrations for the 50th anniversary of independence there's been a noticeable trend towards smarter cleaner buildings in Kinshasa. Will this spread to the Provinces? We'll see.