DAR ES SALAAM, Jan. 4 -- YOU see, in Manzese, I am a respected family man. At least that is what I believe, because any time there is a family dispute, they always come for me.

My wife, Mama Boyi, a woman of great patience and even greater lungs when it comes to shouting my name, respects me according to her moods that particular day, or depending in the state I am in when I arrive home.

My son, a young philosopher of the streets, the one I call the domestic thug, spends most of his time shaking his imaginary dreadlocks after puffing on what he calls the holy herb, (the boy is bald). Now, New Years Eve is not an ordinary night in Manzese.

It is a sacred festival where common sense is suspended, money develops wings and everyone suddenl...