The recent political events in Tanzania represent a profound and heartbreaking betrayal, not merely of democratic principles, but of the very essence of human dignity and leadership. The systematic jailing of opposition figures and the arbitrary exclusion of candidates from the electoral process created a pre-ordained outcome, a hollow victory where 97% of votes serve not as a mandate, but as a monument to political repression.
When a people’s voice is systematically silenced, their frustration inevitably finds another outlet. The peaceful protests that emerged from this orchestrated injustice were a cry for help, a plea for fairness from citizens who believed in their nation’s potential. The state’s response was not one of dialogue or conciliation, but of brutal force. The subsequent riots and the loss of numerous innocent lives mark a dark stain on the nation’s history. Each life lost was a universe of potential extinguished—a future president, a visionary minister, a dedicated banker, or an inspiring teacher. The nation’s future was, quite literally, bleeding in the streets.
In the face of this national trauma, the decision to proceed with a presidential inauguration was an act of profound moral bankruptcy. It was a ceremony that celebrated power over people, and victory over virtue. This act is rendered even more condemnable by the fact that the President is a woman. Society holds women to a sacred standard of nurture and protection, a standard forged in the furnace of motherhood. When a woman in the highest office presides over the bloodshed of her own citizens, she does not merely fail as a leader; she betrays a fundamental trust. She shatters the archetype of the protective mother and places all women in leadership at risk of being unfairly deemed untrustworthy with the lives of those they are sworn to serve.
This is a slap in the face of human rights and a chilling contradiction to the selfless love we associate with motherhood. The biblical parable of King Solomon and the two women provides a timeless lesson. The true mother, faced with the threat of her child being cleaved in two, immediately relinquished her claim, preferring the child to live without her than to die. Her cry was, “No!” Her instinct was protection at all costs.
Where was this “no” in Tanzania? Where was the maternal instinct to say, “Stop! These are my children. Their lives are more important than my power.” This was the moment for a leader, a woman, a symbolic mother of the nation, to stand between her citizens and the sword. That failure to protect is an abdication of a deeper, universal responsibility.
To the international community, we must speak with unwavering clarity: any nation, entity, or individual that supports or justifies these events in Tanzania is complicit in the erosion of democracy and the devaluation of human life. To stand with this regime is to declare that you do not mean well for the people of Tanzania, for the future of Africa, or for the fundamental principles of justice and human rights that underpin a civilized world.
We condemn these acts in the strongest possible terms. We mourn the lost, we stand with the oppressed, and we demand accountability. The world is watching, and history will judge not only those who committed these acts, but also those who stood by in silence.
Faith Munthali
Member of Africa Unite.
Women in Politics.