[h=2]MPs` sitting allowances: We must probe the bigger picture[/h]
By Editor
26th June 2011
If anyone were to suggest that history should be rewound to revive the system under which members of parliament traveled by hired buses to Dodoma for parliamentary sessions, he or she would risk being branded a lunatic.
Yet, given the noises that have lately clouded sitting allowances for the men and women who are technically Number One servants of the constituents who voted them into the law making chamber (Bunge), the lunacy aspect has to be assessed critically.
Granted, traveling by bus may be deemed demeaning for the men and women we address as honourable, and who insist on being addressed as such, although by word and deed, some of them render that reverential reference hollow.
But is it justifiable for MPs to cruise around in expensive fuel-guzzling juggernauts that cost over Sh40million each? It is a sad spectacle, indeed, that those vehicles traverse villages, trading centres and townships inhabited by mostly abject poverty-stricken inhabitants.
Even in urban constituents, the majority of people are hard-pressed to raise commuter bus fare, three square meals a day is an elusive dream; but their presumed Bunge servants enjoy the comfort of very posh vehicles.
Not much is being said about MPs' vehicles, in terms of whether they can't make do with cheaper, but strong enough machines to conquer the mostly difficult Tanzanian hinterland terrain; symbolically at the very least, and sincerely at best, to project them as leaders of poor citizens.
Attention, instead, is focused on sitting allowances, which, though justified, are meaningless, or at least weakened as a debating issue, when, or if they are pursued in isolation of, instead of the wholesomeness of MPs' package.
Suppose, for argument's sake, sitting allowances are withdrawn, do the rest of the financial and other entitlements of the poor Tanzanians' servants rhyme with the majority of their ‘employers' who live below the poverty line and personify the ‘one-meal-per-day' syndrome ?
After a mere five-year tenure in the august house, an MP's so-called golden handshake is some Sh40million. How does that compare with the miserly amounts that most civil servants get in pension and related entitlements?
Whatever patriotism-driven sentiments may be aired, the plain truth is that, relatively now, unlike during the First Phase government, financial inducements constitute the itch for many people to become MPs.
This explains the tension, squabbling and even physical confrontations that rock campaigns for securing political party endorsements for candidature; and why a diversity of professionals, plus non-professionals and even social misfits seek to become MPs.
Worse is the corruption dimension, featuring wealthy, private agenda-nursing king and queen makers, as well as fortune seekers who reckon that the rewards of toil in the civil service, private sector or academia are highly dwarfed by Bunge emoluments.
In the not-so-distant past, a storm was raised when a proposal was raised, to limit parliamentary terms to a maximum of two, against the current indefinite allowance, whose by-product is some individuals branding their respective constituencies as personal entities.
Again, patriotism may be invoked, as well as a claim that particular constituents have an undying faith in their MP and feel that no-one else can serve them as he or she does.
Those are cheap smokescreens for financial and related gains as the real magnets that attract many people to ‘Bunge'.
It is a disease, indeed, whose symptoms are known - what remains is to seek a decisive cure; then, issues like sitting allowances, posh vehicles and retirement packages won't arise, or will do so on a relatively tolerable scale.
SOURCE: GUARDIAN ON SUNDAY