

THE METROPOLIS
DAR ES SALAAM



DE METROPOOL DAR ES SALAAM 2025 DASUDA VOL-01.
Josje Hoefsloot

We want African cities to become more resilient to unplanned growth and climate change. A city without trash on the streets, with healthy rivers, public spaces where people can exercise and meet in the shade. Where you can buy an affordable house, commute quickly to work, friends, and nearby services. Where you can choose between car, public transport, cycling or walking. In short, an accessible and safe city where people feel at home. But how do we get there?






THE BAJAJI DRIVER
“Uko wapi?!” asks Mohamedy, the bajaji driver, when I request a ride through Bolt. “Nipo beach mavi (I’m at the dirty beach),” I reply. “Haha, I’m coming,” he laughs. Having a conversation in a bajaji is not always easy—it’s a mix of my Swahili, a roaring engine behind us, and potholes in the road. Joseph tells me the beach is known as “beach mavi” because of the amount of waste lying around and the sewerage which is entering the sea.
The bajaji is often faster than a car. Sometimes half a lane is sacrificed so bajajis can pass more easily. If not, they find space on the shoulder or even in the middle of the road.
Mohamedy, the driver, comes from near Moshi, and like many young people, came to Dar es Salaam looking for work. They often have degrees (in teaching, geography, accountancy) but can’t apply them, or they take a second job (e.g., in telecom) to save for a house, studies, or a partner.
They live with family or rent an apartment—often under poor conditions—until they’ve saved enough to buy a plot of land, then save more to build a house. In these parts of the city, called Uswahilini by Tanzanians themselves, the government hasn’t yet installed basic infrastructure (like drinking water, sewers, roads). And until they officially own the land, they must guard their plot’s boundaries from others trying to settle there. It can take years before the owner receives a title deed.














THE PROMISE OF THE CITY
“Urbanisation is unstoppable,” says the Friedrich Ebert Stiftung. Why do people move to the city? Economic opportunity, proximity to family, and access to services. They’re right. In the city, access to electricity, piped water, healthcare, education, and legal support is up to eight times greater than in rural areas. Still, once in the city, only 13% of respondents said they were satisfied with public services in relation to the taxes they paid. Another striking stat: only 2% of Tanzanians said they felt at home in the city compared to their place of origin.
Data shows access to services in Dar es Salaam has only increased since 1995. But with an influx of about 1,000 people per day and 70–80% of housing unplanned, the government is constantly trying to catch up. This unplanned nature affects both infrastructure and safety. On average, Dar residents spend 170 minutes commuting daily (mostly by dala dala buses). (World Bank, xxx) Also, in low-income countries, death from flooding has increased 30% in the last 20 years, due to climate change and the lack of green spaces for water infiltration.



“PWENYE MITI, HAPANA WAJENZI”

An old Swahili proverb says: “Pwenye miti, hapana wajenzi” – “Where there are trees (opportunities), there are no builders (means to develop).” Today, a follow-up proverb is often used: “Penya miti mingi, wanatunza sana mazingira” – “Where there are many trees, the environment is well cared for.” Natural disasters are increasingly linked to environmental damage caused by human activity—globally.


“ASHIBAYE
MWENYE NJAA”
Degene die vol zit, kent degene niet die honger hebben – maak geen assumpties


HAMJUI


MBOLETA, NAIROBI
A neighborhood featured in the book Atlas of Informal Settlements shows how social housing can spark selfbuild opportunities. A 48-hectare modernist social housing district from the 1950s has transformed into a dense, lively, mixed-use neighborhood.
The original Mboleta/Ofafa design consisted of row houses with one or two floors and plenty of open space—on the streets and between buildings. Since 2002, the area has become saturated with informal homes and additions. These often block inner courtyards or private alleys (semi-public space). Some larger courtyards now house daycares or shops opened by adjacent residents.
Density has more than doubled. Gross built area has increased from 15% to 38%, though main access roads remain. The neighborhood has shifted from monofunctional to a mixed-use district with courtyards.
Public green spaces have largely disappeared. Livability now depends on semi-public spaces. One might ask whether density in this central part of the city should be even higher, given the very low building height. Still, it teaches us how formal planning can stimulate—and perhaps guide—informal development.









100m
NG’AMBO, ZANZIBAR
The Ng’ambo flats stand out starkly from Stone Town’s historic core and surrounding informal neighborhoods. The flats offer housing for many Zanzibaris, and the roads have become major arteries. The buildings reflect the compromise and quality of cooperation between Zanzibari politicians and East German architects.
In 1960, the government sought to create a modern city center beside Stone Town. The first phase was funded and designed by the GDR (East Germany) and the German Academy for Architecture in Berlin. In 1966, 145 apartments were built in 14 blocks, ranging from 80–150 m². The area became a modern, semi-self-sufficient neighborhood with access to a supermarket and school.
Later phases gave more control to the Zanzibari government. Flats built between 1966 and 1971 in Kilimani had three or four rooms, more public space for visitors, private spaces for women, and dedicated areas for prayer and laundry.
In 1967, Hubert Scholz from the GDR designed a major urban plan. Three months later, Zanzibar’s Revolutionary Council proposed 10-story buildings and a new 30-meter-wide road network—without consulting the GDR. They eventually scaled down to four- or five-story buildings in select areas. Between 1970 and 1973, they built eight complexes of 4,300 meters and two of 200 meters, totaling 1,102 apartments: the famous Michenzani flats.
The scale and proportions work well. The roads are relatively green, and the tree mix softens the hardness of the concrete façades.






“MPOLE
POLE NDIO MWENDO”
Langzaam is inderdaad het tempo
“POLE POLE YACHELEWESHA”
Langzaam veroorzaakt vertraging

TWENDE MBELE. (Moving forward)
Dar es Salaam doesn’t stand still. Since moving here, countless buildings, shops, and restaurants have sprung up. If there’s money, it gets invested. If you don’t move with the city, your plan is outdated.
Back to the first question: How do we create an inclusive, safe city where people feel at home?
My thoughts may not be new or complete, but I do see a few crucial ingredients missing for sustainable urbanism: long-term visions, neighborhood-level masterplans, and small-scale examples in the short term. Collaboration between public, private, experts, and community is vital to root projects in local contexts.
We can understand the place and its needs, co-create a vision and identity, and come up with strategic, implementable solutions that can be realized in the nottoo-distant future.

“MVUMILIVU
HULA MBOVU”
A patient person eats the ripe fruit.
“MVUMILIVU HULA MBIVU”
A patient person eats the spoiled fruit.





Good examples include OTP, the Msimbazi River project, and the BRT system. They respond to real needs and are shaped by the unique character of place. By designing across different scales, these interventions contribute not just locally, but regionally—especially in terms of:
1. Sense of Belonging
Not only for newcomers to the city, but for those born there. The goal is for people to feel at home in their neighborhood, semi-public, and public spaces—to express themselves, feel solidarity, and create new experiences.
2. Water Security
We need more space for water retention and channeling—an obvious priority given climate change, heavier rainfall, and rising death rates from urban water-related issues.
3. Basic Services
Through spatial planning, we can develop more efficiently—for instance, by identifying key locations for social services or densification to reduce sprawl. Many more homes will be needed, especially if household sizes shrink in future. Smart planning can integrate multiple functions from the outset, avoiding the need for future retrofits.









Kariakoo is the commercial heart of Dar es Salaam and the largest market in East Africa. A Kenyan I met bought coconuts here to sell in Mombasa. The streets are organized by goods: clothing, auto parts, kitchenware, fruits and vegetables. It’s hot, crowded, and noisy—but if you know where to look, it’s a paradise of affordable products.
The market building on the cover was designed by Tanzanian Beda J. Amuli, the first Black African to open his own architecture firm in East and Central Africa in 1969, after studying in Israel. His concept plays with the idea of a traditional marketplace under trees. The roof (the crowns) is supported by free-standing concrete pillars. The building has multiple floors: goods are delivered in the cool basement, and the stalls are on the shaded ground and first floors. Open stairwells provide ventilation. Even outside, the overhang provides shade. The roof collects rainwater stored in the basement for use in the market.
In 2021, a fire destroyed the building and vendors’ livelihoods. Restoration is currently underway.

