Strolling about Dar es Salaam in the days around mainland Tanzania’s 50th birthday, I was struck by the virtual absence of an essential aspect of the festive occasion: Apart from its usual venues, the national flag fluttered nowhere else.

From the inner recesses of Kariakoo to the Upanga seafront, from Muhimbili Hospital to the Clock Tower, no house, office, vehicle or road structure displayed this vital symbol of our nation. Even the authorities had overlooked bedecking the city streets with flags.

Correspondingly, no one in the streets looked jubilant.

A Yanga or Simba victory generates a more jovial street buzz. Of the friends, colleagues and strangers I conversed with, none expressed celebratory sentiments.

While our health and education services are in dire straits, governmental departments and public institutions had spent hundreds of millions of shillings on commemorative events.

Newspapers and radio broadcasts were saturated with articles, photos and advertisements on the golden anniversary of Independence. But the scene on the ground provided a sharp contrast.

No enterprising person had bothered to profit from this unique occasion. Street vendors had no paper flags or memorabilia marking the event. People went about like any day off from work.

Apart from the dignitary-heavy ceremonies at the National Stadium, life went on as usual.

Mwalimu Nyerere had our national flag placed at the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro. After 50 years, we are not inclined to fly it in our front yard.

Where has our sense of national pride dissipated? Whence came the prevalent negativity, credulity, hypocrisy and mental servility that mark our national psyche today?