DAR ES SALAAM, Sept. 28 -- THERE are nations that take the word “victory” and build cathedrals around it. There are others that hear the sound of triumph and immediately reach for the brass band, the fireworks and at least one public holiday.

And then there is Tanzania, good old Tanzania, Bongoland if you may.

Here is where Alphonce Felix Simbu crossed the marathon finish line in Tokyo, won us our very first gold at the World Athletics Championships.

And the best we could manage was the equivalent of a yawn and a reminder that the florists at Namanga close early. That is why there were no flowers at the airport!

You would think this was a nation starved of joy, desperate for something—anything! —to shout about....