’What’s your religion?’ the police officer on duty in Oysterbay Police Station asked me today.
’I have none. In fact I signed out of the Danish national church. I simply didn’t like the concept’ I replied.
Here we go again.
Today in Oysterbay Police Station where my religious affiliation appears to be the most important issue of them all. In fact, I cannot report theft if I don’t answer this question. Everything stops, and centres around this vital question.
Because, what am I then?
Me, being Scandinavian, find that kind of categorising rather superfluous in this situation. But I can also not say no to an option of being so ridiculously labelled as 'not suitable'. It calls for being challenged.
Last week in Kibaya I was asked for my tribe. And I wrote ‘viking’, making the guest house caretaker ask: “What is that really?’
'Natoka Ulaya ya Kaskazini. You know. Kali people from the North of Europe. That’s my tribe.'
Labelling people is many Tanzanian civil servants’ favourite amusement.
Today the police officer looked back at me in a rather judgemental way, concluding:
‘You have no religion, and you live alone. What person are you? You are just living?!’
I sort of felt it would be too complicated to explain that I don’t live alone, that my house is full of guests who are also rather hard to put into Tanzanian categories.
But he went on: ‘Most people are something. Either Muslims or Christians! And what about family, where is your family?'
I looked him in the eyes, and told him: 'It's very complicated, I know, but that's how it is!' And then I insisted, and agreed to his previous question: ‘Yes, me I am just living’.
(Ironically, he spelled 'living' like 'leaving' in my report, however I didn't feel I had earnt enough respect to point it out).
