Jewel of Swahili poetry tested as Suluhu's leadership exposes 'ungwana' hypocrisy

Against a backdrop of burning cities, severed internet, and escalating post-election violence, Tanzania’s electoral commission declared President Samia Suluhu Hassan’s re-election on Friday with near-unanimous margins that defied the violent reality witnessed across the nation since Wednesday.

The announcement of a 97.66 per cent victory, emerging from an information blackout while streets continued to echo with gunfire and protests, transformed what was meant to be a democratic exercise into a moment of grim national rupture.

The “landslide” declaration, devoid of credible opposition after the systematic exclusion of major challengers, landed not as a mandate but as a provocation to a citizenry that was already confronting military crackdown and mounting fatalities.

For decades, the nation stood as a beacon of Ujamaa and Ungwana, where family-hood and civility shaped both politics and people. Celebrated as the cool jewel of Swahili poetry, Tanzania’s quiet grace seemed as enduring as Mount Kilimanjaro itself.

Yet last week, that carefully cultivated image shattered as the mainland, once a byword for stability, found itself engulfed in post-election turmoil.

In a striking condemnation from Brussels, senior European Parliament figures declared the electoral process fundamentally compromised, noting that democratic principles had been eroding for months before any ballots were cast.

Their assessment pointed to the deliberate suppression of political rivals and the weaponisation of judicial processes against dissenting voices.

This international censure echoed alarming documentation from human rights monitors, who had warned of a systematic campaign of intimidation targeting government critics.

The restrained discontent simmering beneath the surface erupted into open confrontation as polls closed on October 29 evening, with protests intensifying through the night despite official attempts to impose order through curfews and security deployments.

To understand the deep fractures now visible in Tanzania’s political fabric, one must look beyond the violence that broke out following Wednesday’s elections and into the philosophy that once defined the nation’s moral compass.

For decades, the ruling elite have drawn their legitimacy from Ujamaa (nationalism) and Undugu (brotherhood), the socialist ideals of family-hood and unity envisioned by Tanzania’s founding father Mwalimu Julius Kambarage Nyerere. What began as a call to collective purpose has slowly morphed into an instrument of control.

Morris Odhiambo, an international relations scholar and chair of the Diplomacy Scholars Association of Kenya, says Tanzania’s ruling class has “instrumentalised Ujamaa” to sustain legitimacy and wealth.

“The same social cohesion created by Ujamaa was being used cleverly by political elites to make sure Tanzanians cannot wake up to that reality,” he notes.

According to Odhiambo, this moral capital of unity became a convenient cover for corruption – unlike in Kenya, where graft is openly discussed. What began as nationalism gradually legitimised “patronage and clientelism, feeding a neopatrimonial” system that protects those in power.

When former President John Magufuli came to power, Odhiambo says, he tried to disrupt these entrenched networks within Chama Cha Mapinduzi (CCM), earning the resentment of the political elite within the ruling part. “By the time Magufuli was dying, a lot of them did not like him, he was literally taking food from their mouths.”

President Suluhu took over in 2021 and restored these patronage structures, consolidated power around the same old networks “Critics claim she has reinvented these systems for her own politics.”

Meanwhile, the ruling class saw opposition leader Tundu Lissu, once part of CCM, with the same unease once reserved for Magufuli.

“The elites around CCM are as scared of Lissu as they were of Magufuli,” Odhiambo observes

In Odhiambo’s view, the unrest this past week represented not just a political crisis but a reckoning with decades of ideological betrayal.

The ideals of Ujamaa and Undugu that once bound the nation together are being tested by exclusion, corruption, and generational disillusionment.

Election-related violence is not new to Tanzania, though it has been geographically contained. The semi-autonomous archipelago of Zanzibar has long served as the pressure valve for the nation’s political tensions, often at tragic human cost.

Following disputed 2000 elections, security forces cracked down on opposition demonstrations on Pemba Island, killing between 22 and 60 protesters and sending thousands fleeing to Kenya. This pattern continued in 2005, with clashes between CCM and the Civic United Front leaving nine dead.

The controversial annulment of 2015 Zanzibari election results poured fuel on this smouldering fire, leading to widespread unrest and intimidation. By the 2020 election cycle, the playbook had refined into darker art.

Live ammunition

Witnesses reported police firing live ammunition into crowds, killing at least three people on the eve of the vote. This was accompanied by a campaign of abductions, arbitrary arrests, and the ominous emergence of a paramilitary group known as the “Mazombi” or “Zombies,” who specialised in harassing and intimidating civilians.

The mainland, under the late Magufuli, was not immune. The 2020 general elections saw severe crackdowns, with opposition leaders arrested and media muzzled. However, violence was more contained the repression more surgical. The current crisis suggests pressure, no longer vented in Zanzibar alone, has blown the lid off the entire pot.

The stage for the explosion was set over many months. President Suluhu, who ascended to power in 2021 following Magufuli’s death, initially fostered hope known as the “Samia Spring.” However, as the 2025 election approached, that spring froze over.

The government’s strategy was comprehensive. Main opposition leader Lissu of Chadema, who survived an assassination attempt, was arrested for treason in April 2025, a charge carrying potential death penalty. His party was disqualified after refusing to sign a contested electoral code.

The only other serious challenger, Luhaga Mpina of ACT-Wazalendo, was disqualified on technical grounds.

This left Suluhu running against only minor parties. As a diplomatic source noted, “The fraud did not begin at the ballot box on Wednesday; it has been in the making for months or perhaps years.”

This pre-election period was marked by a documented “wave of terror,” as described by Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, citing enforced disappearances, torture, and extra-judicial killings.

Even ruling party members were not safe, former CCM spokesman Humphrey Polepole vanished after criticising Suluhu, with his family finding blood stains in his home.

When Tanzanians woke on October 29, the presidential outcome was not in doubt. The response, however, was. What unfolded was a multifaceted rebellion, a spontaneous eruption of anger cutting across regions and generations.

As anger mounted, the government deployed one of modern control’s most effective instruments: an internet blackout. NetBlocks confirmed “nationwide disruption to internet connectivity,” cutting off Tanzanians at the height of unrest.

In Dar es Salaam, Arusha, and Songwe, protesters defied police curfews. Security forces responded with tear gas and, according to witnesses, live ammunition. In Arusha’s Olerien area, demonstrators torched a police station — an unmistakable act of defiance.

While some fought in streets, vast numbers registered protest through silence. Polling stations across Dar es Salaam remained eerily empty. “What’s the point of voting when the real choice is behind bars?” one voter lamented. This ghost-town atmosphere revealed a deep legitimacy deficit.

The most alarming evolution was however the precise, personal nature of violence. This was not random looting but calculated retribution against those perceived as propping up the system.

Across urban centres, businesses owned by celebrities seen as CCM sympathisers were systematically attacked.

Nenga Electronics, allegedly owned by musician Billnas, was torched. Shishi Foods, belonging to musician and actress Shilole, was set ablaze. A clothing boutique belonging to influencer Sharobaro was looted and reduced to rubble, while social media footage showed protesters vowing to target the Wasafi Records empire of Diamond Platnumz and other artistes including Ali Kiba.

The escalating threats prompted Diamond to hastily purge his social media accounts of earlier posts endorsing President Suluhu, a digital retreat that spoke volumes about the peril facing celebrities perceived as government allies.

Visceral betrayal

The rationale, protesters explained, was visceral betrayal.

“We are the ones who made them famous and rich. They proved to be status quo supporters without caring about our suffering,” one demonstrator stated.

Buses belonging to billionaire Mohammed Dewji, widely believed to have shifted political alignment toward CCM, were torched.

Even State institutions were not spared. The Takukuni anti-corruption headquarters in Dodoma was burned down, protesters accusing it of enabling high-level graft. The electoral commission’s announcement of 97.66 per cent victory came alongside reports of 32.67 million voters casting ballots out of 37 million registered; an 88 turnout starkly contrasting with observed “ghost town” polling stations.

The announcement triggered critical regional reactions. Kenyan Siaya Governor James Orengo expressed solidarity, while Martha Karua declared, “Suluhu Hassan had trounced her own shadow.” South Africa’s ANC refused to endorse the election, a notable snub. The United Nations has also voiced deep concern over the situation. Secretary-General António Guterres urged restraint and dialogue, while the UN Human Rights Office said it was “alarmed by the deaths and injuries,” calling on security forces to “refrain from using unnecessary or disproportionate force.”

In a marked escalation of diplomatic pressure, the foreign ministers of the United Kingdom, Canada, and Norway issued a joint statement on Friday night condemning the post-election violence. They cited “credible reports of a large number of fatalities” and denounced the pre-election “harassment, abductions, and intimidation” of opposition figures.

Yet even as global voices expressed alarm, regional and continental institutions remained conspicuously muted.

In a striking departure from practice, Tanzania’s polls concluded without preliminary statements from the AU, EAC, COMESA, IGAD, SADC, or ECOWAS—creating a troubling vacuum of accountability. This collective silence contrasted sharply with the European Union’s limited engagement and only deepened public suspicion over the credibility of the electoral process.

Over the past week, the United States maintained a heightened security alert, with the US Embassy in Dar es Salaam continuing to shelter personnel in place as demonstrations stretched into their fourth day and beyond. Tanzania stands at a precipice.

The social contract of Ungwana – of civil political discourse, has been torn up. The targeted violence reveals fury that is personal, economic, and deeply nihilistic – the fury of a generation feeling its future has been stolen.

The crisis according observers is no longer about a disputed election but what happens when a nation’s identity is fundamentally challenged. The peaceful myth that long defined Tanzania has crumbled, revealing the bitter divisions it once seemed to transcend.

The path back is uncertain, but the Tanzania that emerges will be irrevocably changed, its poetry of peace replaced by the painful prose of national reckoning.

The sustained precaution by a major diplomatic mission underscored the lingering volatility that has defined the post-election landscape.

Meanwhile, the muted response from regional observer missions – from the African Union to the East African Community, spoke volumes amid the unfolding crisis. That was crowned by a Saturday congratulatory message from AU Commission chair Mohammed Ali Youssouf of Samia following her victory as it gave a lackluster observation on the violence and deaths

 Peaceful myth in ruins

Tanzania stands at a precipice. The social contract of Ungwana – of civil political discourse, has been torn up. The targeted violence reveals fury that is personal, economic, and deeply nihilistic – the fury of a generation feeling its future has been stolen.

The crisis according observers is no longer about a disputed election but what happens when a nation’s identity is fundamentally challenged. The peaceful myth that long defined Tanzania has crumbled, revealing the bitter divisions it once seemed to transcend. The path back is uncertain, but the Tanzania that emerges will be irrevocably changed, its poetry of peace replaced by the painful prose of national reckoning.