Tanzania is the only country I know where you can get a pedicure service while seated in a passenger bus.
A few days ago, as I sat in a daladala (commuter bus) waiting for the seats to fill up for a trip from Musoma to Butiama and while not quite minding my own business, I noticed that a fellow passenger kicked off her sandals and sought the pedicure services of an itinerant trader who not only provides a fresh look to his clients' nails but also sells ladies shoes.
He placed his stock of shoes aside and spent several minutes cleaning her nails and applying a red polish.
I have no idea how much it cost but it should have been a fraction of the most expensive pedicure.
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I blog what I observe around me, and I end up writing on a wide range of subjects including cultural tourism, customs and traditions, travel, and mountaineering. Specifically, what happens in and around the village of Butiama, the birthplace and final resting place of Tanzania's founding president, Mwalimu Julius Kambarage Nyerere.
Butiama Bed & Breakfast
Showing posts with label customer care. Show all posts
Showing posts with label customer care. Show all posts
Wednesday, 24 July 2013
Friday, 31 May 2013
My version of the year 2012 in review: 20 May
Having forced my laptop to serve me way past its retirement age, I was forced to find a replacement. Or so I thought.
I walked into a shop in Dar es Salaam and asked for a "notebook." I meant to ask for a "netbook" but did not know the difference at the time. The teen-aged salesgirl realized I did not know the difference and instead of helping me along to spend at her shop, she made some customer unfriendly comments. To say she was disgusted by my ignorance is an understatement.
My ignorance steered my out of the shop and to the next shop where a more accommodating salesman sold me a netbook.
Other posts in this 2012 review series:
Sunday, 28 April 2013
And the point is..?!?!?
The point of posting my photograph, posing with a young stewardess of Fastjet after landing in Mwanza recently is twofold.
First, she asked: "Can I take a photograph with you?" I said, "Certainly!" She pulled out her phone and asked a colleague to snap a few images, and I pulled out my camera, having found an excuse to take a photograph. The point is: I like the photograph, and that's a good enough excuse for posting it. It's a long since I have appeared so young in a photograph.
I went away imagining that, finally, after almost 5 years of blogging I have come face to face with one of my readers.
The second point came to me after I disembarked from the aircraft and recalled how I recently had something to complain against Fastjet and wrote about it.* I suspected, tongue-in-cheek, that the Fastjet management might have been trying to soften me up by this attempt to boost up my ego.
*I must give credit to Fastjet for getting in touch with me after I posted my complaint in this blog, which I found extremely rare in Tanzania's service industry and places Fastjet's customer complaints department in a class that is comparable only to a handful.
Posts related to this one:
http://madarakanyerere.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-trouble-facing-fastjet.html
http://madarakanyerere.blogspot.com/2012/12/4-reasons-why-you-should-fly-with.html
First, she asked: "Can I take a photograph with you?" I said, "Certainly!" She pulled out her phone and asked a colleague to snap a few images, and I pulled out my camera, having found an excuse to take a photograph. The point is: I like the photograph, and that's a good enough excuse for posting it. It's a long since I have appeared so young in a photograph.
I went away imagining that, finally, after almost 5 years of blogging I have come face to face with one of my readers.
The second point came to me after I disembarked from the aircraft and recalled how I recently had something to complain against Fastjet and wrote about it.* I suspected, tongue-in-cheek, that the Fastjet management might have been trying to soften me up by this attempt to boost up my ego.
*I must give credit to Fastjet for getting in touch with me after I posted my complaint in this blog, which I found extremely rare in Tanzania's service industry and places Fastjet's customer complaints department in a class that is comparable only to a handful.
Posts related to this one:
http://madarakanyerere.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-trouble-facing-fastjet.html
http://madarakanyerere.blogspot.com/2012/12/4-reasons-why-you-should-fly-with.html
Monday, 18 March 2013
Thanks, TANESCO
I am at a barber shop in Mwanza, the California Salon, half-shaven, and the power has gone.
I thank TANESCO, the electric utility company, for reminding us about the near total dependence that humans have on energy. When I was young I and my other siblings used to visit a barber shop on Uhuru Street in Dar es Salaam where the barbers used manual clippers and scissors.
Modernity has brought the convenience of electric shavers and TANESCO reminds us that the old manual clippers remain indispensable.
The good news is that the power cut lasted only a few minutes.
The bad news is that Charles the barber has installed a television set in his barber shop and when the power was restored he resumed watching a nature documentary while continuing to shave me. In appropriate circumstances I would have called his action hitting two birds with one stone.
Post related to this one:
http://madarakanyerere.blogspot.com/2011/08/tasty-cakes-poor-service.html
I thank TANESCO, the electric utility company, for reminding us about the near total dependence that humans have on energy. When I was young I and my other siblings used to visit a barber shop on Uhuru Street in Dar es Salaam where the barbers used manual clippers and scissors.
![]() |
| At the California Salon, Mwanza. |
The good news is that the power cut lasted only a few minutes.
The bad news is that Charles the barber has installed a television set in his barber shop and when the power was restored he resumed watching a nature documentary while continuing to shave me. In appropriate circumstances I would have called his action hitting two birds with one stone.
Post related to this one:
http://madarakanyerere.blogspot.com/2011/08/tasty-cakes-poor-service.html
Sunday, 3 March 2013
Fastjet's cabin crew inexperienced, should learn from bars
Budget airline Fastjet recently issued impressive statistics on its operations. CEO Ed Winter reported:
"Punctuality for the month was again excellent at 99.7 % with no cancellations...."
Fastjet excels in flight operations, but its cabin crew seem to neglect how to provide an acceptable service during flights. I found myself at the receiving end of appalling service on a recent Mwanza - Dar flight.
When the trolley approached, here's what happened:
After I ordered biscuits and coffee costing Shs. 3,500 and having handed a ten thousand shilling banknote to the cabin attendant who was ahead of the trolley, she gave my back a five thousand banknote and said: "I owe you one thousand five-hundred." She also handed me the coffee and sugar except the cup and hot water.
Hardly two minutes later, the second attendant behind the carriage gave me the cup with hot water and demanded payment. I said, "you are the ones who owe me." To my surprise the first one, who minutes earlier publicly confessed to owing me Shs.1,500, could not remember I had paid up. Hardly two minutes later!
It gets better. They kept on pretending to be too busy to return my change until the plane landed an hour later. After we landed and all the passengers had disembarked I reminded her to give me my change and she claimed she had actually served me a second cup of tea and so I had no further claims.
I pointed out to her she was too young to begin suffering from dementia. And lying about having served me a second cup of tea which I had not drunk just about broke my normally composed demeanor.
I have seen better service in Butiama's bars where hardly anyone knows the difference between a boarding pass and Fastjet and where "my change" is known as i chenji yane, but where barmaids are experienced enough to return the change promptly to customers before the passage of time affects the judgement of either the barmaid or customer.
Posts related to this one:
http://madarakanyerere.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-trouble-facing-fastjet.html
http://madarakanyerere.blogspot.com/2012/12/4-reasons-why-you-should-fly-with.html
Posts related to this one:
http://madarakanyerere.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-trouble-facing-fastjet.html
http://madarakanyerere.blogspot.com/2012/12/4-reasons-why-you-should-fly-with.html
Wednesday, 19 September 2012
Someone help me explain this
How does the same flight to the same destination with the same airline have two different fares?
I called Precision Air this morning to reserve a seat on the Mwanza - Kilimanjaro flight. I was told the single fare was Shs.240,000 but before I could confirm my reservation I ran out of phone credit. I called five minutes later and this time the fare had shot up to shs.295,000.
"In five minutes?" I asked. And was told it all depends on the available class at the time. Okay, fair enough. In the intervening five minutes someone could have taken "my" shs.240,000 seat.
One hour later on my way to the Mwanza Precision Air office to reluctantly pay my fare I visited a travel agency to get a satisfactory explanation of this class difference.
I left the agency with more questions than answers. They not only managed to find for me another fare class at shs.233,000 but also told me that when they make reservations the agencies and the airline use the same reservation system.
So does this mean the agencies have more competent staff than Precision Air? How then would you explain a class that is available through travel agencies but not through the airline?
Like the Precision Air customer representative told me, the young woman at the agency also said the fare you get depends on the available class.
Pardon my French but what bloody class? I know I will be on a flight that has no class compartments.
Could someone explain this to me?
I called Precision Air this morning to reserve a seat on the Mwanza - Kilimanjaro flight. I was told the single fare was Shs.240,000 but before I could confirm my reservation I ran out of phone credit. I called five minutes later and this time the fare had shot up to shs.295,000.
"In five minutes?" I asked. And was told it all depends on the available class at the time. Okay, fair enough. In the intervening five minutes someone could have taken "my" shs.240,000 seat.
One hour later on my way to the Mwanza Precision Air office to reluctantly pay my fare I visited a travel agency to get a satisfactory explanation of this class difference.
I left the agency with more questions than answers. They not only managed to find for me another fare class at shs.233,000 but also told me that when they make reservations the agencies and the airline use the same reservation system.
| Waiting for a flight at the departure lounge of an airport. |
Like the Precision Air customer representative told me, the young woman at the agency also said the fare you get depends on the available class.
Pardon my French but what bloody class? I know I will be on a flight that has no class compartments.
Could someone explain this to me?
Monday, 11 June 2012
Banking, Tanzanian style
I am standing in line at a bank in Moshi for more than thirty minutes. I will not name the bank. There should be four tellers serving more than 20 clients.But not a single client has been served and I suspect that tellers 4, 5, 6, and 7 have all decided to take their lunch breaks at the same time.
*****BREAKING NEWS*****
As I was about to continue in this paragraph to describe the less than satisfactory service provided by this unnamed bank, an employee has announced "they will be ready after 30 minutes."
I would assume there is a technical fault that is causing the delay. I can also assume that the four tellers need those extra minutes to clear their lunch plates.
posted from Bloggeroid
Monday, 26 March 2012
Butiama's petrol station
Butiama has only one filling station, but it runs out of fuel every now and then.
When that happens we fall back on Mama Anje's petrol shop where the unit of distribution is a 5-litre container at shs.2,500 a litre.
Sunday, 21 August 2011
Tasty cakes, poor service
Sometime in June I traveled to Arusha by road through the Serengeti fielding a baseball cap to protect me from the dust kicked up by the cars on the unpaved road. I forgot that cap in a café in Arusha.
On 3 August I found a receipt from the café and, in anticipation of another visit to Arusha in eight days, I called them to find out whether they saw my cap. They did and had kept it. On my next visit to Arusha, I was told, I had only to ask for Faith, the manager, and I would happily be reunited with my cap.
On 12 August, on my 51st birthday, I showed up at the café and was told that someone would be sent to the office to collect the cap and bring it to the café. And to a highly anticipated reunion, I thought. I returned that evening and none of the employees on duty had heard of any cap, not to mention a reunion.
I began to sense this was a birthday I would write about. Furthermore, I sensed I was beginning to lose my composure. So I asked the waiter serving me would he please relay a message to whoever has my cap to bring it to the café the following day. He assured me he would.
The next day, about 24 hours later, I showed up at the café to claim my cap and, again, no one had ever heard of a cap, a reunion, or a waiter who guaranteed the previous day that there would a cap and a reunion. The cashier on duty said she would try to call the manager, and I sat down to order the one item that drew me to the café in June: a scrumptious Black Forest cake and an oversized mug of coffee.
Forty minutes later I had paid my bill but it seemed that a vision of manager, cap, or reunion were unlikely this century. The manager could not be reached on the phone.
Incredible, I told the cashier:
- I called you eight days in advance to announce my arrival
- I traveled 700 kilometres to reach Arusha
- I came here yesterday twice to tell you I am already in Arusha
- I have come back today for the third time in two days
AND YOU CANNOT BRING MY CAP FROM YOUR OFFICE TO THE CAFÉ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
Since I do not live in Arusha, I pleaded with her to accept ten thousand shillings from me to pay for mailing my cap to me. She said she could not accept the money. She pleaded with me to have some patience [and faith?] and wait for Faith, the manager. I said I could not, and walked away.
As I explained to the cashier, the cap had no value to me. I had responded to their telling me that they had it, and I was only furious because they had made me waste my time by failing to fulfill their own promises.
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| A street in Arusha. |
There is no way that the incident will prevent me from enjoying my Black Forest in Arusha, but it won’t be at the same place. I am afraid that the constant reminder of their appalling ability to communicate amongst themselves would make me choke even if I just sat at the café to breath. Faith and company swept away any faith I had in them when they initially assured me they had kept my cap.
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http://madarakanyerere.blogspot.com/2012/09/in-any-name-beep-or-buzz-is-absolute.html
Tuesday, 29 July 2008
Letter from Butiama: Chain letters, old and new
This is one of numerous articles I wrote for the Sunday News (Tanzania) column "Letter from Butiama" between 2005 and 2011.
*************************************************
When photocopying was the principal means of reproducing documents, it was common to receive a chain letter whose recipient was directed to make several copies and forward the copies to other individuals, usually more than ten, with each of the new recipients expected to carry the chain forward.
The letter warned the recipient of the consequences of ignoring the letter, disclosing a few tragic incidents that befell those who failed to follow the instructions and revealing the fortunes that fell on the laps of those who followed the instructions.
Secretarial bureaus made brisk business reproducing the chain letters, until a conspiracy theorist suggested that chain letters originated from photocopy salesmen (very few women were in sales-related occupations in those days), and paper merchants who wanted to stimulate sales of their products. No mention is made of members of the Universal Postal Union whose national postal systems also benefited by conveying a large volume of chain letters.
With the advent of new technologies, the chain letter was transformed to take advantage of the newer means of communication. When the information superhighway opened up to traffic, variations of the traditional chain letter began to circulate in the form of e-mail messages. The photocopier salesmen were probably now also selling computers, and it is likely the former paper merchants had switched to production of ‘electronic paper’, such as computer diskettes and CD’s. And it would not be out of character for both of them to have acquired stakes in the cyber café’ business.
Users of technology are simultaneously trying to keep up with the pace of changes in technology, and remain sane at the same time. Getting tomorrow’s information yesterday is considered the only way that one can be ahead of the rest. People are in a rush; they need to make decisions as they walk, as they drive, as they eat. They have to be connected all the time; a fact which seems not to have escaped the attention of the salesman-merchant duo. The electronic chain letter of the Internet has now found its way into the mobile phone system.
In this fast-paced world where time is a most precious commodity and it is becoming even wasteful for someone to sit in front of a personal computer to answer his electronic chain letter, some companies have already devised a way to accomplish the same task through the mobile phone. To others, the chain letter has become the chain short message (sms).
I received one such chain sms on my phone on 29th May* informing me it was ‘World Best Friends Day’. I was urged to forward the text to my friends, including the sender of the message, if I considered him to be my friend, and then wait to discover whether the message will go through a loop and get back to me. The message said if I get only 7 responses I should consider myself a likeable person. I sent out more than seven messages to people who I seriously consider my friends, but it seems they have a different opinion of me. Not one of them sent a return message. They must know a lot more about that old chain letter conspiracy theory.
Not all chain text messages have such an innocent character. Some contain false promises. One message which surfaced last December and purporting to originate from one of the cellular phone companies promised those who swallowed the bait some free airtime if they forwarded a text message which had public service content.
When I received mine, I called the company’s customer service centre where a customer service representative said his company had nothing to do with the text message, adding that the company’s text messages to subscribers originated from a particular number which can easily be identified.
Would it possible for his company, I suggested, to send out a text message to caution subscribers against participating in that misleading chain. He did not think that was a good idea because it would cost his company some money. He could not understand how some clients were falling prey to such trivial pranks. I suggested it was easy for him to discover those anomalies but the average client is not like him. He agreed with me. Yes, the average Tanzanian client was not like him. In fact, the average Kenyan subscriber was not as gullible as a Tanzanian one, he told me.
I suggested to him that while he continued to argue subscribers were losing money needlessly. I conservatively estimated that within an hour of sending out the first infamous message, and assuming those receiving the message carried the chain forward, his company earned forty million shillings in revenue from the chain messages alone, not to mention the phone calls many had made to other subscribers to warn them of the misleading message.
The customer sales representative finally reluctantly accepted my suggestion, and said he would talk to his supervisor. In fact, two days later a subscriber from Arusha told me she had received a text message from the cellular phone company disassociating itself from the chain text message.
In today’s fast-paced world where a possible forty million shillings can be earned by the company and lost by its subscribers within an hour, two days is a millennium.
*2005
Postscript: One wonders whether it would have taken the company 48 hours to stem a loss of 40 million shillings per hour.
Sunday, 8 June 2008
The Only Customer?
I came across this shop near a village called Muryaza, in Mara Region, Tanzania.
Above the window it has the inscription "Only God Kiosk." I wondered whether there were other customers. There was no one in sight except a house nearby.
It made sense. With God as your customer, you don't need anyone else.
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