By Adonis Byemelwa
In a country where political rhetoric can ignite fierce debates, the recent comments by Tanzanian President Samia Suluhu Hassan have sparked widespread discussions and reactions. Speaking with bold conviction, recently the Head of State made it clear: “I have never killed anyone, except maybe an ant.”
While some perceived her statement as a light-hearted defense, others saw it as a direct response to the mounting criticisms, especially after her declaration at the 60th anniversary of the Police Force, where she firmly stated, “I will not tolerate those who say ‘Samia must go.'”
The president’s words seem to have struck a nerve, particularly as a video circulates on social media showing members of Bawacha, a women’s wing of the opposition party Chadema, burning kangas and fabrics bearing her image.
These were gifts from the president during a past Women’s Day celebration, a symbol of reconciliation under the theme “Fence Mending 4Rs.” However, their act of protest was accompanied by the chant, “Samia must go,” a direct challenge to her leadership and authority. This event unfolded just three weeks after the president reiterated her legitimacy, asserting that she had assumed office through legal and constitutional means.
The burning of fabrics adorned with the image of the Head of State is not only symbolic but a stark display of political dissent that challenges the boundaries of respect and decorum in Tanzanian politics.
While such acts may embody freedom of expression, they raise critical questions about political maturity and the preservation of national unity. Can such protests, steeped in disrespect, truly be called democracy?
The act of burning these garments is an attack on the dignity of the nation’s highest office. It undermines the very fabric of respect and unity that holds Tanzania together. Political leaders, regardless of their affiliations, must cultivate dialogue grounded in respect, not fueled by hatred.
To burn symbols of leadership is to burn the principles of civility and decency, cornerstones of a democratic society. The political arena should be a place for ideas and constructive criticism, not acts that degrade the nation’s moral standards.
Political discontent is not a new phenomenon, and Tanzania is no stranger to moments of intense opposition. Yet, the legacy of figures like Nelson Mandela, who urged peace and reconciliation, stands as a reminder that hatred is a destructive force.
Mandela once said, “Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies.” Burning effigies or images is the manifestation of such resentment, a poison that does not advance political discourse but only breeds division and hostility.
Similarly, Mahatma Gandhi’s warning, “An eye for an eye will make the whole world blind,” echoes in the current political climate. The practice of responding to criticism with hostility or disrespect only deepens the nation’s wounds. Tanzania’s political actors must heed these lessons of history—without dialogue, peace and progress are impossible.
In this context, President Samia’s recent remarks take on a deeper significance. She urged members of her party, CCM, to defend her against baseless accusations, including those labeling her a murderer.
Her retort was sharp and measured: “I have killed opposition forces, I have killed poverty, and I have killed backward ideas that were holding this country back. But I have never killed a person.” Her words, however, are not just a defense—they are a challenge to her supporters and critics alike. In the run-up to local elections and the 2025 general elections, she urged CCM members to unite, not for individual gain, but for the good of the party and the nation.
Her comments also bring to the forefront the broader issue of political accountability. Just as former President Ali Hassan Mwinyi once said, “Every era has its book,” so too does this one.
Each leader must face the weight of responsibility for their time in power, and while President Samia may not wield a hammer or a rifle, those under her command—police, and security forces—carry out actions that reflect on her administration. Yet, it is the leader who must bear the ultimate burden of blame or praise for the conduct of their government.
As Tanzania’s leader, President Samia now faces the complex task of balancing criticism and governance. Her defiance in the face of those who call for her departure is clear: she will not be intimidated.
Her response to external nations calling for intervention in Tanzanian affairs was equally firm—Tanzania’s sovereignty must be respected. But more importantly, her remarks were a call for self-reflection, particularly to those tasked with safeguarding the nation’s security.
In the end, the Bawacha burning of fabrics; kitenge, and images may be a momentary expression of frustration, but the real fire that needs tending is the flame of democracy, justice, and unity.
Tanzania’s political landscape is evolving, and as it does, both leaders and citizens must rise above the pettiness of insults and actions that erode the nation’s dignity. For as long as leaders are reduced to mere symbols to be destroyed, and political debate devolves into hate speech, the future of Tanzania will mirror the darkness rather than the light Samia claims to have brought.
Let this moment serve as the turning point Tanzania desperately needs—where the political conversation shifts from personal vendettas to collective progress, from simmering resentment to genuine reconciliation, from deep-rooted division to national unity. The road to true democracy and development is long and difficult, but it is a path that must be walked together, with shared responsibility and respect.
One cannot help but recall the poignant words of a famous African poet, who lamented the selective praise often bestowed upon political leaders. He observed how banners and billboards proclaimed leaders’ achievements—roads built, universities erected, battles fought and won—yet no mention was ever made of the ordinary people who mixed the cement, carried the stones, or suffered the wounds of war. The poet’s voice rose with a cry: What of those who bore the burden of labor? What of those left behind? His words echo today, reminding us that while it is easy to shower leaders with accolades, there are darker truths that demand equal recognition.
President Samia Suluhu Hassan has undeniably driven economic growth and strengthened Tanzania’s international standing. Her achievements are significant, but as a poet once questioned, can we afford to overlook the shadows that accompany these triumphs? The discontent, and the allegations of injustice—these too are part of her legacy and demand accountability as much as her successes deserve praise.
No leader governs alone. While President Samia firmly rejects accusations of wrongdoing, the machinery of government operates under her command. She may not have directly caused harm, but perceptions of failure under her leadership persist, and history holds her accountable.
In this critical moment, both the President and the nation must reflect deeply. True leadership requires confronting shortcomings, not just celebrating victories. Tanzania’s future depends on open dialogue, unity, and the courage to address uncomfortable truths. Only by acknowledging both the good and the bad can the nation move forward, stronger and more united.
This is a moment for deep reflection, both for the president and the nation. To truly lead, one must not only bask in the light of achievements but also confront the shadows of failings. The real test of leadership is not in denying the negative, but in addressing it head-on, with humility and transparency. It is a lesson in governance that every great leader must learn: a nation will forgive mistakes, but it will not forgive being ignored.
