Muhali: an enigma of confusion, disappointment and Swahili politeness explored

If you have been to Zanzibar, you have experienced Muhali but not even realised it.  

You have ordered food in a restaurant and waited patiently, only to be told (hours later) that there's no chakula.

Muhali. 

You've ordered something from a fundi and never been able to ascertain exactly when you will receive your order (if ever) or the item you wanted.

Muhali.

Your schedule is never fixed. Prearranged times change momentarily. Social appointments don't stick and people arrive late or never show up.

Muhali. 

Does your girlfriend/boyfriend/husband/wife continuously make promises that are unrealistic or impossible?

You are a victim of Muhali. 

Muhali is an untranslatable concept particular to Swahili society. Just like Stone Town, there are no straight lines for cultural navigation here. You just have to know where to go if you want to get to your destination (or ask a local). Muhali is one of the cultural codes that create huge confusion for foreigners if they are ignorant of the practice. It often stirs up aggression, loathing, racist attitudes and a body of other disasters in its victims. And that includes the Waswahili themselves. 

The Swahili penchants for kariim (kindness) and heshima (respect) govern Muhali. It's very important to realise that the Muhali (noun) does not do a muhali (verb) maliciously. The Muhali is trying to be kind. They are reluctant to be 'the barer of bad news', so to speak. The waiter doesn't want to tell you they have no food in the kitchen; that the cafe assistant is first going to the market (by daladala) to purchase the ingredients to make your order. They don't want to tell you out of a feeling of hospitality; the will to please -and to make wageni feel comfortable- overrides the crushing reality that you will wait three hours for that avocado sandwich. 

As an example, I went to a fundi (workman) to get a sofa made. He told me no problem, we exchanged money and I left. When I came to take the sofa three weeks later, it was totally different to the one I had ordered. The fundi then told me the money I paid him was insufficient for all the materials to make my order, so he made another one with the resources he had. This is a perfect example of muhali. He didn't have the heart to tell me my money wasn't enough, so he did what he could with the meagre resources. I was left drowning in guilt. 

This is where Western frustration comes in. We come from 'receipt societies'. We don't usually pay until the order is finished and we take it from the workman. If we pay and don't like it, or it is flimsy and breaks, we get a refund or a new sofa. Business transactions, while 'polite', are not social matters in the West. We are not friends with the workman and we don't owe him any courtesy, we are customers. But this is anti-Swahili thinking, and if you continue like that you will soon be overwhelmed with rage. 

If I demanded my money back, I would not be minding my manners and my social standing with this fundi would be lowered; our relationship from that point would be strained. Depending on your personality, you would either become furious and fight with this fundi, or you would yield to the guilt and go home feeling bad and angry, hating the sofa. I felt angry because the fundi didn't tell me the 'truth' (an extra 30,000TSH would've been enough to make my couch). I mistook this muhali for deception and dishonesty. 

Many Westerners mistake an instance of muhali for deliberate deception, and racist attitudes germinate quickly. The fundi was not a liar. The waiter and the cook are not lazy. The boyfriend really believes he will do whatever he promised he will do. All these people are remiss in revealing all the information you wanted at the outset. You would rather be aware of the fact first than disappointed later. But the Muhali sincerely believed it was better to 'string you along' than to reveal a 'disappointing' reality at the beginning. Inevitable guilt and disappointment is universal to all muhali recipients, Swahili or foreigner. 

Something else the Swahili victim of muhali suffers is obligation. Swahili feel an obligation to 'accept the bad sofa' in life (out of kariim). Waswahili feel that it is heshima to accept the three hour wait, the dodgy sofa or the employee who is always five-minutes-away but never shows up. Kariim and heshima govern all relationships. Business will never be divorced from sociality in Zanzibar.   

Be aware that not all business or social 'mishaps' are muhali's. The phenomenon of the 'Mzungu price' (bei ya kizungu) is an example of blatant exploitation and discrimination. It is not muhali. There is a fine line between the two (how easily it is crossed is debatable) but they are distinct from one another because a Muhali is neither cruel or exploitative. They are mkariim, kabisa.  

There is an underlying need to foster optimism in the Zanzibari culture. The need to believe in the impossible; that 'Inshallah, God willing' anything can happen. It is charming but very frustrating for people coming from secular cultures; people who rely on predictability and linear business relationships to function will find these ideologies difficult (or impossible) to adapt to.  

Here are the most concise definitions of Muhali I can create in English:

Muhali (n): (1) a person who practices or does muhali. 

(2) a sincere person who -despite sincerity to please- nevertheless disappoints through broken promises. 

muhali (v): (1) in spite of impossibility, promising to do the impossible; because of a need to please and practice kindness and respect. 

(2) neglecting to inform others of any pessimistic or negative realities to protect them from disappointment, but eventually creating greater        disappointment when the true circumstances are revealed.

*As a final note, I am a mzungu, but was a serial Muhali for most of my life back home. I have never been able explain to people there why I was doing what I did, over and over again, to the bafflement of my friends and family. I made many people angry. The mentality is anti-Western. Many of them would say insane. 

Now that I have found a definition for this behaviour, I feel confident enough to emphasise that no Muhali intends to disappoint. They probably have an abstract intention to actually keep the appointment or do the thing they promised to do for you. There are underlying feelings of hope, optimism and above all, a need to 'keep some doors open' that drive the Muhali. It is better to have the option to go to dinner than to say 'no thank you, I have already agreed to go out with someone else' because in truth, the Muhali sincerely hopes to go to dinner with everybody. They want possibility. Don't confuse it with procrastination or laziness, which are different things again. 

I'm the first to admit that it's not an easy concept for most people to live with, even the poor Muhali. They feel many kinds of anxiety over their inability to 'break the bad news' and the need to keep everybody happy. So if you know a Muhali, give him a break. God willing, it'll happen. 

© Jaki Khalfan 2011