Just before the onset of the Algerian War of Liberation in 1951, someone went around selling cheap radio receivers among the natives. The radios were also availed in restaurants that provided free lunch. Mama Mboga’s free lunch? We shall see.
The Government, which had earlier banned the selling of newspapers, L’Express, L’Humanite, and Le Liberation to natives because they were gleaning subversive news from Moroccan war, feared these radio would be used to report on troop movements.
These radio receivers, tuned to foreign stations broadcasting from Cairo and Syria, were a means of obtaining news on the revolution from non-French sources. They, therefore, were invaluable and were used to great effect in countering the French propaganda figures as broadcast by Radio Alger while posting excellent pro-revolution propaganda of their own. France lost the war.
Decades later in later 1993, Rwanda saw an influx of cheap small radios made available under a government-supported venture. The following year, Radio Télévision Libre des Mille Collines (French for “Free Radio and Television of a Thousand Hills”) hit the air airwaves. Due to its entertainment, it was a great hit and supported by the cheaply available radios, it was widely listened to by the general population. But that was not all. It broadcasted ethnic propaganda against Tutsis and moderate Hutus. For this, it is widely regarded as having played a pivotal role in creating the charged atmosphere of inter-ethnic animosity that made it easy to trigger a genocide, and it deed. It did not stop there. It also played a significant role in coordinating the three months 1994 Rwandan genocide.
In Kenya, the Government has been racking its brain for quite a while on how it could bring the jua kali cum the hustler theatre under the tax bracket. First, they tried the Digital Villages. The Digital villages were meant to be established in every shopping centre in the republic ostensibly to bring the Internet to the people. This noble idea saw the government-private partnership train the would-be proprietors of the centres. Money was eaten, the project failed and the mama mboga tax that was introduced that year failed to kick off too. These Digital Villages then metamorphosed into Huduma centres. These centres greatly improved access to government services especially those that require an internet footprint. Mama mboga tax was tried again but it was dead in the water. Later, they expanded themselves to Raisi Mashinani. But still, something was not clicking. There was a gap.
Do you know what they say about the stone that the builder had rejected? The “Ah! ha!” moment came not with Huawei, not with Oppo, not with Techno, but with Infinix.
The “digital government” encouraged the importation and uptake of these cheap (read Chinese or vice versa) smartphones. Heck, they even allowed China-made hawkers to trudge the countryside touting these devices in an effort to boost digital uptake. The citizenry did not disappoint either. Motivated by entertainment and betting on betting on these widescreen-touchscreen phones, the uptake of the gadgets was phenomenal. And that is not all. No matter the network provider you choose, the Internet speeds were superb.
Come December 2018, the uptake of these Internet-enabled phones was standing at 90% of the adult population. That’s when in Jukistopia we started noticing a smirk on the face of that sly fox at the Treasury. Ninety per cent was the cue the government needed to spring the trap. They announced the return of the Mama Mboga tax.
Come January 2019, any small business, however small, must first pay to KRA, via the Internet-driven iTax, the presumptive tax (something akin to the advance tax paid by pick-up vehicle owners). The tax is pegged at 15% the cost of the Trade License (business permit) charged by any County Government and must be paid before the County Officers can process the business permit.
Free Lunch Indeed.
Very interesting article Njuki…
Very interesting article Njuki…