In Dar es Salaam's largest market, a bustling warren of rickety stalls selling fish, spices, fruit and vegetables, nobody has heard of Bob Geldof.
Ask about the Live8 concerts and faces take on an even more perpelexed appearance it's an alien phrase that has no resonance among the sweat and dust. Around 2bn television viewers are expected to watch a galaxy of rock stars perform at concerts in London, Paris, Philadelphia, Rome, Berlin, Moscow, Johannesburg, Tokyo and elsewhere. But this global mega-event appears to have bypassed Dar es Salaam market.
“I don't know anything about it,” says a mystified Jumanne Ramadhani, a 24-year-old trader selling coconuts for 200 shillings apiece.
In this country, like others in the region, few people know or seem to care about Mr Geldof's latest music extravaganza, an event intended to raise awareness about the plight of the poorest continent.
Twenty years after Mr Geldof launched Live Aid, the original “aid” concert, many African cities, like Dar es Salaam, have opened up to the outside world with the introduction of mobile phones, cyber cafés and satellite TV.
But the sequel, the Live8 concerts, has hardly appeared on people's radars and has garnered little space in local media.
The reality is that far more people know more about Manchester United, David Beckham and Real Madrid than pop concerts in faraway rich nations.
Even if Live8 had received greater coverage, it would still be a foreign concept to many, as huge numbers of Africans still survive as subsistence farmers in rural areas far removed from the benefits of modern communications.
In those areas, people are more worried about the weather, disease and putting the next meal on the table than which act will be performing where.
In Tanzania, which receives around $1.5bn a year in foreign aid and is viewed by many as model of development success, average per capita income is $330 and the secondary school enrolment rate is less than 10 per cent.
“Some of the youngsters may have come across it through the internet, but basically nobody knows about it,” says Abu Abdullah, a businessman buying an African music CD from a street-side stall. “We have a big problem when it comes to foreign news, we only care about what is happening in European football.”
Others argue that the event is not directed at African audiences and suffers from not having greater African participation.
“This initiative is driven out of northern countries, the African leg of Live8 was just tagged on the end so it's not geared to African audiences.
“This is where Africans and genuine friends of Africa . . . who are forced to live with this patronising mega focus are caught up with frustrating ambiguities,” wrote Abdul-Raheem Tajudeen, a commentator in Tanzania's Guardian newspaper. “How can you say that this focus on Africa is bad when the complaint before is that there is not enough attention to the challenges of the continent? Yet something inside you tells you that this interest is just the fashion of the moment and after it all, the public can actually return to their ignorant ways having done their bit for Africa.”
In Kenya, Solomon Mbicha, a 31-year-old architect, takes an even more cynical view. “This is all done for publicity and economic gain. They do not really care for the people affected, the so-called people they are supposed to help,” he says. “Africa's problems can only be solved by Africans, not by external forces.”







