The Road to Zanzibar

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A few years ago, when we were flying up the east coast of Africa, I looked down and saw some amazing islands with white sands surrounded by turquoise waters.

When I discovered that they were the islands, collectively, known as Zanzibar…I knew that, one day, I’d have to go there.

That name, “Zanzibar”, has intrigued me ever since watching Bob Hope, Bing Crosby and Dorothy Lamour in the old movie, “The Road to Zanzibar”, so this was no fleeting obsession…
…I’d just had no idea where it was…until then.

To me it sounded so exotic, conjuring notions of spices and Arabian perfumes and eastern promise…

So, when OH asked me where I’d like to go this Autumn, he already knew the answer!

In reality, Zanzibar is three large islands…Pemba, Mafia and Unguja…along with lots of little ones scattered in the Indian Ocean. They are off the coast of, what used to be called, Tanganyika.

The “Zanzibar” (see, I can’t stop using the word!) which has occupied my imagination, all these years is, actually, the old quarter of Zanzibar City…Stone Town…on the island of Unguja, the largest of the islands.

I couldn’t bear to go to all the way to Pemba, without visiting “my” Zanzibar…so, on the way home, we took a three hour guided walking tour…

We started by cutting through the fish-market…

To get to the Anglican Cathedral…

…which is on the site of the former slave market…

Zanzibar has a long and turbulent history. The first people to live there were Bantu speaking people from mainland Africa. But, around the year 2500BC, traders from Arabia, Persia and India arrived, with the monsoon winds, to trade…
…and began inter-marrying with the African population, bringing with them elements of their cultures, including Islam, in the eighth century.

All was well…

…until Vasco de Gama arrived, in 1499, on his way back from the far east, and Zanzibar came under the control of the Portuguese…who wanted to trade the abundant spices and…

…slaves.

Two hundred years later, the Sultanate of Oman took control of the islands and continued to exploit these great trading opportunities.

In 1840, the Sultan of Oman moved his entire court and capital from Muscat to Stone Town.

During these times, crop-growing plantations were developed, and inroads were made deep into Africa to find ivory…and, yes, you guessed it…slaves.

And Stone Town became the largest slave market in East Africa.

People were taken and sold into bondage by (often their own) kings in East and Central Africa…some coming from as far away as the Congo. Then, bearing tons of ivory…men, women and children were driven on the long march to the port…

…to be imprisoned in small dark underground chambers, to await the auctions.

This photo is a bit blurred, but, it gives an idea of the size of this chamber…our guide, Godfrey, is quite a small, slim young man.
There would have been fifty people, or “pax”, as they were called, chained together, on these slabs…
(for “pax”, think “packs”, as in how many could be packed in…not “pax”, as in peace)

This chamber, next door, held seventy-five “pax”…

Needless to say, vast numbers of people died, firstly, on the long march…

…then, upon arrival, in the brutal conditions of the Stone Town dungeons…

…of disease and…suffocation.

Believe it or not, those windows were “enlarged” to that size, when too many perished…and the profits went down.

Those who did survive, though, were led up to the auction pit…

Where the weak were bought…
…but, the strongest commanded higher prices…

…which meant that the “whipping post” was necessary…to ensure their submission.

The altar of the church was built on the spot of that post.

Doctor David Livingstone, who had witnessed the atrocities of the slave drives and the horrors of the slave market in Zanzibar, was greatly instrumental in bringing about the abolition of slavery. He died in Africa and, although his body was eventually buried in Westminster, his hat was buried under an African tree.

This cross was made from a part of that tree, and hangs in the church.

The slave market was, eventually, closed in 1873 and the church was built the following year.

But, the slave trade did not stop…it just relocated to further along the coast…

So, in 1890, Zanzibar came under the “protection” of Britain. The Sultan continued to rule…although the British, effectively, governed. But, to the chagrin of Britain, the slave trade continued…eventually leading to the shortest war in history. In 1897, British warships bombarded the town and after only 45 minutes, the Sultan submitted, acquiesced, and the slave trade, finally, ended…

…or did it? There were still all those plantations in Zanzibar…

In December 1963, Zanzibar gained independence as a constitutional monarchy. But, only one month later, tired of centuries of abuse, the people overthrew the Sultan, in a bloody revolution. During the slaughter, thousands of Arabic and Indian people were killed, being seen as oppressors, or expelled…and their property seized.

Being from India, the family of one of Zanzibar’s most famous sons fled for their safety, at that time…

Freddy Mercury’s father worked in a bank and Freddy was born there in 1946.

The house he lived in is now a shop, but above the doorway, there’s a brass plaque, which reads, “Mercury House”…and two windows like this, charting his fame.

After the revolution, Tanganyika and Zanzibar joined together to become the nation of Tan-zan-ia, although Zanzibar is, still, semi-autonomous.

Nowadays, Zanzibaris are proud of their culture, which has absorbed all those influences from Africa, Europe, the Middle East and Asia.

A walk through the narrow streets reveals the diversity…

This is one of the doors Zanzibar is famous for. There are Indian ones and Arabic ones. This one is Indian. The strong posts up the centres were to stop elephants driven by disaffected neighbours from barging in!
Sadly, the elephants are long gone (though you may not think so if one had charged through your house).

The narrow streets are filled with different styles of architecture…

…with metal window-grills, wooden shutters and balconies in stone…

…or wooden fret-work…

Of course, technology has had to be added on, rather than in. There are jumbles of wires, everywhere…and an incongruous communications mast…

It struck me how clean it all is…even the bazaar…

…which is right up my street! Time for a spot of haggling over trinkets…
(OH’s job!)

…before heading off through the Old Fort…

…which used to house the Stone Town Girl Guides…

…and now has a market where you can buy cloth and curios…or have a henna tattoo! I did, on Pemba, and it’s fading much faster than my memories!

The Old Fort is the Portuguese legacy to the town. The whole town is built of the same stone…coral stone. Hence the name…Stone Town…even though much of it has been rendered.

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Just across the road from the Old Fort, the Sultan built his Palace…
…which the locals call the, “House of Wonders”.

That’s because it was the first building in Zanzibar to have mains water (and water-closets), drains and mains electricity. It was also the first building in the whole of East Africa to have a lift! Such “wonders” to the local population, at the time…

…or, even, now…

…the average income in Zanzibar is one US$ a day, half of that of Nigeria, and I thought that was bad…

Today, it’s the museum.

There’s a large square in front of the Palace…

…which is on the esplanade…

…over-looking the dhows and fishing boats on the crystal waters of the Indian Ocean…

Where we just had time to sit for a moment and breath in the atmosphere…

…before our driver arrived to whisk us back to the airport, for the long journey back home…and back to reality…

Was Zanzibar as exotic as I’d imagined?

Yes!!!

…and, yet, no…I had some rude awakenings.

Was three hours, there, long enough?

Absolutely not!!!

We’ll, happily, spend our dollars in the hotel in Pemba, as often as we possibly can from now on.
Thus far, the guests’ dollars have provided a school for the village…and income, from employment in the hotel, and from the vegetables and rice we ate.

And, next time, we’ll make more time for “my” Zanzibar…on the way home.

• 13 Nov, 2013
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