African Time

It sounds like a patronising concept, a code used by foreigners for the phenomenon that “they” are always late. But no, it’s not just foreigners who use the term – it’s a term widely used by Africans themselves, to describe their strange timekeeping habits. Is it a cultural phenomenon, or is it due to over-commitment, laziness, lack of consideration, or all of the above?

I remember that when I used to work in Nairobi that my American boss, who was a scientist by training, and knew full well about timekeeping, was always late for appointments with government people. Possibly he was demonstrating that more than one can play at that game.

The prevalence of African time definitely varies between countries. In Zimbabwe, for example, it’s not really in fashion. I recall how City Councillors who were late for a meeting by even a second were excluded by the closure, ON THE DOT, of the council chamber doors. And it worked – after the first one or two cases of missing meetings casual timekeeping was transformed into meticulous timekeeping. The Congo, though, is greatly enamoured of African time.

Take the recent case where are group of entrepreneurs was invited to be briefed for an important business opportunity by the Mayor. They received invitations, imploring them to be present by 9.00 a.m. We decided we should meet him before it started so that we could run over the planned programme with him. Knowing that most people would turn up late, we proposed that we meet him at 9.00 so that we would have at least a quarter of an hour before it started. No, no, he said, we should meet at 8.30.

We were marginally impressed that he was keen to get the meeting started on time and arrived punctually. When did he arrive? Forty minutes late. Then, following our little meeting, he vanished, and only appeared for the “important” meeting, supposed to start at 9.00, at 10.51.  No apologies.

It’s not just being late for meetings – it’s any concept of planning the weeks and days in advance which doesn’t work so well. By way of a contrast, I was appalled when, in Holland, it was normally impossible to get an appointment to see someone with less than a week’s notice – even the Director of your own institution who was working just down the passage.

Back to the Congo: many have been the frustrations when international experts make an appointment several weeks in advance only to find that, at the appointed time, the person concerned is not just late, but not even in town. “No, you see,” goes the explanation, “he was called to Kinshasa (to see the Minister, for a workshop, etc etc).” Indeed it’s usually much easier and more efficient to make an appointment fifteen minutes ahead than fifteen days ahead. People are free with their phone numbers, and all it takes is one call and you’re in.

The downside of this is that someone else is, because of your appointment, bumped from an opportunity to meet the big man, and has to hang around for another few hours, if not more.

In the end it’s all a power play. By being willing to see you at short notice the big man is showing you respect, and in these matters a personal relationship – even such a tenuous one, which has been established by nothing more than a phone call – counts for far more than the dead entry in his secretary’s diary.