Kazi na Bata ( Work and Live ) — what do we mean?

Kazi na Bata ( Work and Live ) — what do we mean?

so we have people in jamii forum who can not understand English. subiri wachangiaji sasa
I don't think if the guy wrote this article only for jamii forum audience

by the way who told you all jf members know English?
 
From my point of view,the real meaning of "hapa kazi" today is, "suffer to work" and "work to suffer."
Uko sawa, ila pia ina maana "work only", no life.

Kuna tofauti kati ya life and work.

Hata enzi hizi, wanaoajiri wanaweka msisitizo kwenye "life/work balance"

Kwa maana kwamba ili kuweza kuwavutia wafanyakazi, wenzetu wameweka msisitizo kwenye work/life balance. Yani siyo kazi tuu, bali na maisha pia.

You can work hard and play hard, that's how it goes.

Work without life is almost slavery, if not slavery.
 
Huu uzi umekaa kibaguzi maana ungelikuwa unawalenga watanzania wa hali zote ungeandikwa kwa kiswahili ili kila mtu aelewe ulichokikusudia hapa, wakati mwingine unaweza kuwa na nia nzuri ila ukakosea lugha nzuri ya kuwasilisha kwa walengwa
Huenda na jiwe hataelewa kitu
 
Huu uzi umekaa kibaguzi maana ungelikuwa unawalenga watanzania wa hali zote ungeandikwa kwa kiswahili ili kila mtu aelewe ulichokikusudia hapa, wakati mwingine unaweza kuwa na nia nzuri ila ukakosea lugha nzuri ya kuwasilisha kwa walengwa
Umelenga mataifa ya kigeni hasa ulaya ili yatunyime misaada na mikopo lakini tutavuka tuu
 
Napenda siasa zako ZITTO tangu sijui siasa ni nini ila leo umenifanya nikunje ndita Kwani ndio siwezi share bandiko lako na wenzangu huku kijijin.

DARASA la Saba nasi tunahitaji kujifunza zaidi kwenu.

Kazi na Bata ( Work and Live ) — what do we mean?

Zitto Kabwe, MP

Popular struggles have often featured demands for material improvement, but not for its own sake. The tedious drive for marginal economic gain becomes meaningful when part of a bigger struggle—for dignity, respect, freedom and all else that makes for a fulfilled life.

It was this understanding that inspired 19th century trade unionists campaigning for an 8-hour workday, their most famous slogan being, “8 hours for work, 8 hours for sleep, and 8 hours for what we will.”

In 1912, women immiserated by a wage cut went on strike in America’s then textile capital, Lawrence Massachusetts. They wrote on their placards, “We want bread, and roses too”, demanding fair pay but also dignity in their work. “Bread and Roses” went on to become a much-loved socialist slogan, with roses denoting not something frivolous but “a sharing of life’s glories”.

Reflecting on the anti-colonial struggles of the mid-20th century, Martinique philosopher and revolutionary, Franz Fanon, observed, “For a colonized people the most essential value, because the most concrete, is first and foremost the land: the land which will bring them bread, and above all, dignity.” Guinea-Bissau revolutionary, Amilcar Cabral, similarly affirmed, the people are “fighting for material benefits, to live better and in peace, to see their lives go forward, to guarantee the future of their children…”

In Tanzania, Julius Nyerere at times echoed these same sentiments. He insisted on the need for both “freedom and development”, an ambition reflected in the best of Ujamaa, initiatives like the grassroots-organised communal villages of the Ruvuma Development Association.

Unfortunately, though, the aspiration for bread, roses and dignity, for freedom and development, is not always realised. This was true in the latter years of Ujamaa, as a once democratic ideology of communal wealth building gave way to a top-down, statist agenda.

More recently, President Magufuli coined a new slogan, “Hapa kazi tu!”, meaning literally “Just Work”. This was in response to widespread frustration with entrenched corruption, the promise being to ensure a clean and effective government instead.

Magufuli’s initial anti-corruption campaign seemed to honour this promise, and so met with an enthusiastic popular response. But that enthusiasm has since waned.

Tanzanian politics has taken a sharp authoritarian turn—opposition politics have been curtailed; leaders arrested and held without bail; journalists disappeared and murdered; pregnant school girls denied education; farmers, pastoralists and fishermen killed in government security “operations”.

Tanzania’s economy is also suffering, and with it the wellbeing of its people. Promised investment in health and education has not materialised, undermined by poor budget performance. Although official growth figures remain stable, for many people, household budgets are tight.

Magufuli now explicitly invokes an Ujamaa legacy, claiming to prioritise wanyonge, the down-and-out. But if his is indeed a revival of Ujamaa, it is of the latter-day, top-down authoritarian version.

In the current context, “Hapa kazi tu!” sounds more like a harsh order, a demand to obey in exchange for a meagre reward.

People don’t want work alone, work without freedom or material improvement. They need something more. Wanahitaji kazi, pia bata. They need to work but also to celebrate, to “share life’s glories”, to have “bread and roses”, “freedom and development”, to “live better and in peace, to see their lives go forward, to guarantee the future of their children…”

People need work and life.
 
Aheri hata Zitto angekuwa raisi kuliko huyu aliyepo.Zito pamoja na mapungufu yake yuko vizuri sana kichwani Huyu kijana ni tunu ya taifa,hata uwaziri mkuu ungemfaa.
 
Not work and live but work to live while hapa kazi tu means live to work
 
Andika kiswahili, utapoteza wafuasi wengi kwa kutumia ingilishi.
 
Kazi na Bata ( Work and Live ) — what do we mean?

Zitto Kabwe, MP

Popular struggles have often featured demands for material improvement, but not for its own sake. The tedious drive for marginal economic gain becomes meaningful when part of a bigger struggle—for dignity, respect, freedom and all else that makes for a fulfilled life.

It was this understanding that inspired 19th century trade unionists campaigning for an 8-hour workday, their most famous slogan being, “8 hours for work, 8 hours for sleep, and 8 hours for what we will.”

In 1912, women immiserated by a wage cut went on strike in America’s then textile capital, Lawrence Massachusetts. They wrote on their placards, “We want bread, and roses too”, demanding fair pay but also dignity in their work. “Bread and Roses” went on to become a much-loved socialist slogan, with roses denoting not something frivolous but “a sharing of life’s glories”.

Reflecting on the anti-colonial struggles of the mid-20th century, Martinique philosopher and revolutionary, Franz Fanon, observed, “For a colonized people the most essential value, because the most concrete, is first and foremost the land: the land which will bring them bread, and above all, dignity.” Guinea-Bissau revolutionary, Amilcar Cabral, similarly affirmed, the people are “fighting for material benefits, to live better and in peace, to see their lives go forward, to guarantee the future of their children…”

In Tanzania, Julius Nyerere at times echoed these same sentiments. He insisted on the need for both “freedom and development”, an ambition reflected in the best of Ujamaa, initiatives like the grassroots-organised communal villages of the Ruvuma Development Association.

Unfortunately, though, the aspiration for bread, roses and dignity, for freedom and development, is not always realised. This was true in the latter years of Ujamaa, as a once democratic ideology of communal wealth building gave way to a top-down, statist agenda.

More recently, President Magufuli coined a new slogan, “Hapa kazi tu!”, meaning literally “Just Work”. This was in response to widespread frustration with entrenched corruption, the promise being to ensure a clean and effective government instead.

Magufuli’s initial anti-corruption campaign seemed to honour this promise, and so met with an enthusiastic popular response. But that enthusiasm has since waned.

Tanzanian politics has taken a sharp authoritarian turn—opposition politics have been curtailed; leaders arrested and held without bail; journalists disappeared and murdered; pregnant school girls denied education; farmers, pastoralists and fishermen killed in government security “operations”.

Tanzania’s economy is also suffering, and with it the wellbeing of its people. Promised investment in health and education has not materialised, undermined by poor budget performance. Although official growth figures remain stable, for many people, household budgets are tight.

Magufuli now explicitly invokes an Ujamaa legacy, claiming to prioritise wanyonge, the down-and-out. But if his is indeed a revival of Ujamaa, it is of the latter-day, top-down authoritarian version.

In the current context, “Hapa kazi tu!” sounds more like a harsh order, a demand to obey in exchange for a meagre reward.

People don’t want work alone, work without freedom or material improvement. They need something more. Wanahitaji kazi, pia bata. They need to work but also to celebrate, to “share life’s glories”, to have “bread and roses”, “freedom and development”, to “live better and in peace, to see their lives go forward, to guarantee the future of their children…”

People need work and life.

Zitto acha kutudanganya. Kuendesha nchi sio lelemama. Ukiwahadaa watu utawapa Bata ambayo budget yake haijulikani basi utakuwa very corrupt.
Kutofautiana kimawazo hakuna maana tuwe desperate kuonyesha kila kitu kitafanya kazi, ili mradi tu ndicho hicho watu wanataka kukisikia. Taifa hili na bara letu la Africa wanasiasa wanaongoza kwa unafiki na uongo
 
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