Expat in Afrika

1            MSASANI    EXT.   DAY

A huge baobab tree is standing at the side of a dirt road, close to a wall surrounding a plot. It spreads it’s root-like branches up into the sky. It looks strong and sturdy. The tree looks down on the dirt road, where a Tanzanian young MAN is approaching by bike. He halts at the tree, looks at the trunk, looks up to the top and looks around him. He sees a ROAD WORKER and steps off his bike.

MAN
Hey man. Scuse me… Hello?

ROAD WORKER
Hi.

The road worker approaches.

MAN
Hi. What’s this?

Man is pointing at a red cross on the baobab.

ROAD WORKER
It’s a cross.

MAN
I can see it’s a cross. Why is it here?

ROAD WORKER
This tree will be felled.

MAN
And why, may I ask?

ROAD WORKER
It’s in the way of the road. We’re going to tar the road.

MAN
Whaddu you mean it’s in the way of the road. The road is already here. It’s not in the way now, is it?

ROAD WORKER
Yes, but we’re going to broaden the road. It’s going to be from wall to wall.

MAN
I see. But why? The road is wide enough for two cars to pass, isn’t it?

The road worker shrugs his shoulders.

MAN
And down there the road narrows into a one lane road. Why does this road have to be broadened?

The road worker shrugs his shoulders again. Passer-by’s on the street stand still and look round.

MAN
I mean, what’s the use?

Passer-by’s come closer curiously. People approach from fish market. There are MEN, WOMEN, FISHERMEN, KIDS, a mix of Msasani Village people.

ROAD WORKER
I’ve got orders.

MAN
Orders to kill this tree.

ROAD WORKER
Orders to cut this tree.

MAN
How can you cut this tree? Look at this tree. Look at it! This tree has been here for over twohundred years. This tree was here before Dar es Salaam was here. This tree was here when there was only Msasani Village. For centuries and centuries it has seen the dhows set sail and return with fish. It has seen the fish market being built. It saw the British come and the Germans go. Your ancestors enjoyed their ugali under this tree. This tree has seen it all! And you want to kill This Tree? This tree belongs here! It’s part of our cultural heritage!

The onlookers look at the tree.

ROAD WORKER
There is nothing I can do.

MAN
(to flock of onlookers)
Do you want him to cut this tree?

FEMALE ONLOOKER
(cautious)
I like a tarred road…

MALE ONLOOKER (1)
A tarred road is not good for us.

Some people nod.

MALE ONLOOKER (1)
The cars will drive too fast. They will kill our children. A tarred road is dangerous.

MALE ONLOOKER (2)
It’s the muzungus in their SUVs. They drive too fast!

MALE ONLOOKER (3)
But a tarred road prevents flooding. Do you remember last year’s rainy season?

FEMALE ONLOOKER
And at least my laundry will stay white with a tarred road!

Other women laugh and poke her.

MALE ONLOOKER (4)
The flooding has nothing to do with the road. The swamp must be drained!

There is a murmur of assent. Onlookers start talking at the same time.

MAN
(spreading his arms)
Wait wait wait wait wait. We’re not talking about the road being tarred or not. We are talking about him (points at road worker) felling this tree.

KID
(giggling)
This ugly tree…

An OLD MAN lashes out at him.

OLD MAN
(gesturing at tree)
Listen. This tree was always here. It was here when I was a boy. It was here when my grandfather was a boy. It belongs here. It should stay. It’s not bothering the road.

OLD MAN
(facing onlookers)
This tree should not be felled.

MAN
(to road worker)
You hear?This Tree is alive and it is ours. It belongs to Msasani. Tell your boss to save this tree. 

ROAD WORKER
Why don’t you tell him yourself?

MAN
(after a short silence, unsettled)
We could do that…
Who is your boss?

ROAD WORKER
The Ministry of Infrastructure Development.

MAN
(hesitating)
Okay…

The man pulls himself together and turns to the onlookers.

MAN
Okay people! Let’s go to the Ministry of Transport and Infrastructure!

ROAD WORKER
(smiling and joining the crowd)
Department of National Roads.

Children are hoisted onto backs, buckets are placed on heads and the crowd moves off. The baobab just stands there, powerless but strong. His root-like branches spread out into the sky. From the top of his crown he looks down onto the people, who look so tiny seen from above.

2           DEPT. NATIONAL ROADS   EXT.    DAY

ROAD WORKER
(to man)
This is it.

The group stands at the foot of a traditional building and suddenly seems small: not a crowd but a group.

MAN
(to road worker)
What now?

ROAD WORKER
(gesturing ‘come’)
We go inside.

MAN
(to people)
We go inside!

3           DEPT. NATIONAL ROADS    INT.   DAY

[Yet to be written]

4           DEPT. NATIONAL ROADS   EXT.   DAY

A well-fed CIVIL SERVANT in a dark suit gets into a black shiny car with dark windows and says to the DRIVER, who is holding the door for him:

CIVIL SERVANT
Msasani.

DRIVER
Yes Sir.

The car drives off through a nice avenue with large, leafy trees.

5           KIMMWERI AVENUE | MSASANI   INT.   DAY

The car drives on Kimmweri Avenue. With a grave face the civil servant is talking through his mobile, leaning back in the soft car seat. While listening and humming into his mobile phone he looks outside and raises one eyebrow when he sees the hustle and bustle of Kimmweri: people, barrows, dala dalas, dukas and dust. The car takes a turn onto a dirt road. The civil servant tries to continue speaking into his phone, but he is being shaken up by the bumps in the road.

CIVIL SERVANT
(covering the mike part of his phone)
My God! Where ARE we?

DRIVER
Msasani.

CIVIL SERVANT
(covering phone)
Can you PLEASE drive properly, for Christ sake?

DRIVER
(slows down)
Sorry Sir.

The car moves as a snail through and around the bumps. The civil servant ends his conversation.

CIVIL SERVANT
(looking rather angry, speaking to himself)
What IS this? God!

DRIVER
Where should I go?

CIVIL SERVANT
(with bad-tempered expression on his face, getting back to his phone)
To the baobab.

DRIVER
The one at the beach?

CIVIL SERVANT
(back on the phone, waiving question aside)
The baobab, the baobab.
(in phone)
Yes, how are you.

6           MSASANI    EXT.   DAY

The car turns onto the beach and stops. Driver opens door of civil servant. He gets out. An old man passes by and greets him friendly. The civil servant looks at the baobab (without a red cross) and views over Msasani Bay.

CIVIL SERVANT
(vaguely approving the view)
Hm.

CIVIL SERVANT
(to driver)
Are there more baobabs in Msasani?

DRIVER
Yes. Which one are you looking for?

CIVIL SERVANT
The one with the red cross.

Driver walks off to some boys practising carthwheels on the beach. They point in the direction of the fish market while the civil servant still enjoys the view.

DRIVER
(returning to car)
It’s over there.

They get into the car and drive off again. Finally they arrive at the right baobab, the one with the cross.

CIVIL SERVANT
(speaking to himself)
So this is it.

The civil measures the road with a critical eye, goes back into his car and gets his phone. The car drives off.

CIVIL SERVANT
Yes Your Honour. I have been at the tree. (…) It’s a tree. You know, just a tree, Your Honour. But it’s not in the way of the road. (…) Yes. (…) I agree, Your Honour. (…) Thank you, Your Honour. (…) Thousand apologies Your Honour, but may I suggest something? (…) That beach, Your Honour, Msasani Beach. A fabulous view. We should do something with it, Sir. In my humble opinion. (…) Like, forgive me Sir, like a museum. A natural history museum. One that doesn’t spoil the view. (…) Forgive me Sir. (…) Thank you Sir.

The civil servant sits back in his seat, looks outside and smiles.

7           MSASANI   EXT.   DAY

The road worker approaches the baobab and shrubs off the red cross. When he is finished he gives the baobab a slap on the trunk. The baobab just stands there. From the top of his branches he can just see the bay of Msasani, where the dhows set sail.

FADE OUT

THE END

This script is fictional, although there is a country called Tanzania, and in that country there is a fishermen’s village called Msasani, and in that village there is a huge baobab, and on that baobab there is a red cross that wasn’t there before.
Any resemblance to existing persons is purely coincidental.