By Alfred Zacharia, Dar es Salaam
@Therespondent
In the buzzing neighborhood of Mbagala, where boda-bodas
speed past crowded shops and the scent of grilled maize lingers in the air,
lives a man who is quietly redefining science, one drop of oil at a time.
Meet Abdulkarim Mwajasi, 39, a soft-spoken,
self-taught innovator who didn’t finish university or wear a lab coat, but has
accomplished something many researchers only dream of: developing a 100%
safe and 99.99% effective solution to prevent urinary tract infections (UTIs)
in women. And his secret ingredient? Used engine oil.
Yes, you read that right. The same black, sticky waste
product you see leaking beneath aging cars at dusty garages, Mwajasi saw not
waste, but wonder.
“I didn’t have much, but I had curiosity,” he says, sitting
on a mat in his backyard laboratory—a humble setup with jerrycans,
measuring syringe, and jars of what he calls “nature’s soldiers.”
Abdulkarim's academic journey ended with a Form Four certificate from Tanga Region, a milestone he’s still proud of.
He didn’t go to college, but his mind never stopped asking questions. Instead of textbooks, his education came from observation, trial-and-error, and relentless Googling on a borrowed smartphone.
“I used to wonder why women suffer UTIs more than men. I
later learned it was due to anatomy—shorter urethra, proximity to bacteria
sources. That was my starting point,” he recalls.
It all began in 2017, when he stumbled upon an old journal
mentioning how sulphur is used in some pharmaceutical compounds. That piqued
his curiosity. What if he could use waste oil, rich in sulphur, by refining it to
safe levels and combining it with natural antibacterial agents?
From that spark, a fire ignited.
VIDEO: MTANZANIA ALIYEGUNDUA KINGA YA UTI AFUNGUKA,AELEZA MAAJABU YAKE, ATUMIA MAFUTA TAKA KUTENGENEZA
Over seven years, Mwajasi tirelessly worked on what he would later name UTI Vector—a liquid antibacterial solution made from a cocktail of 23 decompositions, including waste oils from petrol and diesel engines, seaweed, and millet peppers, among others.
“It sounds odd, I know. Waste oil isn’t exactly what you’d
find in a pharmacy,” he laughs, “but when treated correctly, it holds amazing
potential.”
Through a self-developed method to reduce sulphur levels in used oil to ppm3600, he laid the foundation for a chemical solution that could destroy UTI-causing bacteria on contact.
By blending it with other
organic substances, he created a formula that targets and neutralizes bacteria
on toilet surfaces within 19 to 20 seconds.
And if that sounds too good to be true, rest assured—he had it tested.
When Abdulkarim felt confident about his invention, he
didn’t go straight to the market. Instead, he walked literally into the Government
Chemist Laboratory Authority (GCLA) and the National Environmental
Laboratory, asking them to test his product.
“I knew I was working with sensitive material. I couldn’t risk people’s health. I needed proof, not just belief.”
The results surprised even him. Lab tests confirmed that UTI Vector kills 99.99% of UTI bacteria and is 100% safe for both people and the environment.
And the endorsement came from none other than the same
lab that discovered malaria and tuberculosis pathogens back in 1895.
“That’s when I knew—this was bigger than me. This was for Tanzania. For women. For the environment,” he says, emotion rising in his voice.
The brilliance of UTI Vector is not just in its science, but
in its practicality.
It comes in two sizes: Mills20 (20 milliliters) for individual use, and Mills500 (500 milliliters) for institutional settings like schools, prisons, bus stations, or public restrooms.
It’s applied
by spraying three drops into a toilet bowl, where it immediately goes to
work, killing bacteria before they can reach their next host.
“Let’s say a bus with 60 people stops at a highway restroom.
Each person has 10 minutes to use the facilities. It’s chaos. You can’t know
who has a UTI or what’s on the seat. But with three drops of UTI Vector, problem
solved,” he explains, his eyes lighting up.
He calls it a “shield before the storm.” And he's not wrong.
UTI bacteria, he explains with a mix of seriousness and humor, “don’t just sit—they crawl, and they jump. They’re sneaky. But they’re no match for UTI Vector.”
Abdulkarim sources waste oil from nearby vehicle and
motorcycle garages. Previously, these oils were dumped into rivers, soil, or
the sea—damaging ecosystems and endangering health.
“I’m giving waste oil a second life. It used to be a
nuisance—now, it’s a weapon against disease,” he says proudly.
Each day, he buys three to five 20-liter jerrycans of
waste oil, which he processes to produce 150 to 170 bottles of UTI
Vector (Mills20). It’s a small operation, but a mighty one.
“Some young guys now go around collecting oil and selling it to me. I’ve accidentally created a micro-economy,” he chuckles.
Despite his success and growing demand, Abdulkarim still
works from home. His entire operation fits in a small backyard with homemade
equipment. But his dreams are bigger than his current workspace.
“I need TZS 500 million to set up a factory. With
proper equipment and space, I could supply the whole country and maybe even
beyond.”
He believes the product could be a game-changer in refugee
camps, schools, health centers, or disaster areas where clean toilets are rare
but crucial.
“Prevention is better than cure,” he says. “Some of these
UTI medicines have high sulphur content themselves and can be tough on the
body. My product? It prevents, naturally.”
What’s perhaps most inspiring about Abdulkarim’s story isn’t just the invention—it’s the inventor. A man with no formal degree, no funding, no lab—just passion, patience, and persistence.
“I may be a Form Four leaver,” he says, “but I’m proof that
you don’t need a fancy diploma to solve real-world problems. You just need to
care enough to try.”
He hopes his journey encourages other youth in Tanzania to
chase their ideas—no matter how wild they may seem.
“Even if your lab is your kitchen and your formula lives in
your head—start. You never know who you might help.”
And maybe, just maybe, the next big health innovation won’t
come from Silicon Valley or a European university, but from a curious heart in
Mbagala, holding a dropper of transformed engine oil.
Because sometimes, science isn’t just about formulas, it’s
about the courage to look at what everyone else throws away and say, “Wait—I
can make something out of this.”