By Adonis Byemelwa
Kisesa MP Luhaga Mpina (pictured) was up in arms this week, launching a blistering attack on the Ministry of Industry and Trade, calling for nothing short of its complete abolition.
In a rare and unapologetically candid speech in Parliament, Mpina accused the Ministry of being a hollow institution, disconnected from the real struggles of Tanzanian businesspeople, and a bottleneck to economic progress.
He urged the government to dismantle it entirely and rebuild a new institution with professionals willing to fight for the interests of Tanzanians, not just preserve the status quo.
“We are sitting on a collapsing foundation. If the Ministry cannot protect local businesses, cannot control harmful imports, and cannot promote fair competition, then why are we funding it?”
Mpina asked sharply, questioning the Ministry’s request for Tsh 135.79 billion in the upcoming budget.
He argued that the Ministry has consistently failed to fulfill its legal duties, citing ongoing issues like unregulated importation of counterfeit products, weak enforcement of industrial policies, and secrecy around major national projects.
His words carried the weight of frustration echoed across business circles in Tanzania. Mpina detailed the failure to implement the long-awaited Liganga and Mchuchuma mining projects, highlighting illegal secrecy in negotiations with foreign companies, particularly a Chinese investor, contravening the Natural Wealth and Resources (Permanent Sovereignty) Act, 2017, and the TEITA Act, 2015. He challenged the Ministry to publicly disclose valuation details, revenue-sharing structures, and contract timelines.
Yet, it wasn’t just about minerals. Mpina dug into the statistics. Of the 240 investment projects registered in 2022/2023 via the One Stop Centre, foreign investors accounted for the majority.
Even more telling, nearly 70% of investment land applications in the current year were from foreign entities. Why, he asked, are Tanzanians investing less in their own country? Where are the mechanisms to empower local entrepreneurs?
His speech painted a troubling portrait: imported sugar being taxed less than locally produced sugar, leading to unfair competition; billions spent annually importing products that can be produced locally—cooking oil, wheat, fertilizer—while local manufacturers are ignored.
Even government departments, he claimed, favor foreign products. The Intracom Fertilizer Plant, a symbol of national industrial effort, remains sidelined as the government continues to import fertilizer from abroad.
The onslaught continued. Mpina brought to light the disturbing removal of pre-verification procedures on imported goods, allowing a wave of substandard and even dangerous products to flood the Tanzanian market. He noted how this single decision reversed years of progress in protecting consumers and supporting local producers. Fake steel, electrical parts that spark fires, and counterfeit car components were just the tip of the iceberg.
And yet, he pointed out, Tanzania has regulatory agencies—TBS, TMDA, FCC, and BRELA. “Where are they in all of this?” he asked, suggesting either deep incompetence or a system compromised by vested interests.
Then came the thunderclap. “If foreign nationals are selling roasted maize on our streets, digging in our small-scale mines, fishing in our rivers, and no one in the Ministry sees this as a problem, then we have failed the people,” Mpina declared.
He criticized the selective enforcement following President Samia Suluhu Hassan’s Kariakoo investigation, saying the Minister only acted in one location, while the same issues plague mining zones and local industries across the country.
He revealed that small-scale mining zones meant for Tanzanians have been sold off to foreign investors, especially Chinese nationals, pushing out thousands of local miners.
Regions like Shinyanga, Geita, Singida, and Misungwi, once bustling with Tanzanian economic activity, are now controlled by foreign firms, often without local bank accounts or clear production targets. The result: lost jobs, lost revenue, and a growing sense of economic displacement.
And if there was any doubt about the impact, Mpina laid bare the figures from The Chanzo Initiative report: between 2014 and 2024, 95% of Tanroads construction funds went to foreign companies.
Out of Tsh 12.35 trillion, local companies received just Tsh 633 billion. Chinese giants like CCECC and CHICO dominate the construction sector, while over 14,000 Tanzanian contractors fight for scraps.
“How is it that foreign firms are paid quickly, even with interest on delays, while local contractors are owed Tsh 3.5 trillion in unpaid bills?” Mpina asked. He said this gross imbalance has already bankrupted many local businesses and dried up tax revenue streams.
The issue, he said, runs deeper than incompetence—it’s structural. In major national projects like the SGR railway, LNG development, and hydropower initiatives, Tanzanians are barely present.
Mpina blamed the absence of updated service provider databases and opaque systems in agencies like BRELA, TRA, TIC, and NIDA. Without clarity and access, locals are shut out from lucrative opportunities, leaving them as passive observers of their country’s transformation.
“Even the Finance Bill process has become exclusionary,” he added. Businesses are given only 15 days to respond to proposed changes, while countries like Kenya and Uganda provide two months. This compressed timeline, he warned, silences stakeholders and undermines compliance.
He didn’t end his speech without a strong final punch: “We must take bold steps—not just talk. Remove everyone in the Ministry, from the Minister to the janitor. If not, then shut it down entirely and start afresh. The people of Tanzania deserve better.”
But the following day, Industry and Trade Minister Seleman Jaffo was quick to fire back. Speaking with evident frustration, Jaffo described Mpina’s criticisms as exaggerated and dismissive of the government’s achievements.
“It’s absurd to see my colleague Mpina failing to acknowledge any progress made. You cannot simply castigate every ministry effort as useless. That is not only unfair—it is intolerable,” he declared.
Yet his words sparked immediate backlash. While most MPs remained notably silent—many wary of party reprisals—a different kind of dissent erupted across social media and community forums. Citizens, taxpayers, and business owners from across Tanzania didn’t hold back. Their frustration poured in from every corner of the country, cutting through the noise with clarity and conviction.
“It’s not about praise or blame—it’s about facts. We must respond to the realities raised. Tanzanians are watching,” posted Fatuma Ndugumbi, a food vendor from Kigoma, echoing a sentiment that resonated widely.
Hamad Shabani, a teacher from Singida, weighed in via a viral Facebook thread: “If over 70% of MPs are from the ruling party and they’re too afraid to speak, what happens to our democracy? Mpina’s courage should be respected, not mocked.”
From Mwanza, mechanic Yusuph Malembeka shared a video clip that quickly gained traction: “If we turn Parliament into a cheerleading arena, we are betraying taxpayers. Minister Jaffo must answer the issues, not just dismiss them. We are the ones paying the price.”
Outside the digital space, frustration was just as palpable. Business associations such as the Tanzania Private Sector Foundation (TPSF) and the Confederation of Tanzania Industries (CTI) joined the chorus of concern, calling for a formal review of the Ministry’s operations.
“We’re not against foreign investment, but there must be a level playing field,” CTI official of requested anonymity insisted. “Local businesses are being suffocated.”
Luhaga Mpina’s speech in Parliament struck a nerve—not just with analysts or politicians, but with ordinary Tanzanians grappling with a skewed and unforgiving economy. While some dismissed it as political drama, many saw something rare: honesty.
In a House where silence often wins over substance, Mpina didn’t hold back. His critique of the Industry and Trade Ministry wasn’t for show—it came from a place of urgency, frustration, and a sense that the government has drifted too far from the people it’s meant to serve.
What made his remarks so powerful wasn’t just the message, but the moment. In a space where party loyalty often smothers real debate, he cut through the noise. It wasn’t about scoring points. It was about holding power to account.
Whether his words spark change or get buried in bureaucracy remains to be seen. But for many, his bold stand was a breath of fresh air—and a reminder that Parliament can still be a place for truth. Maybe not a revolution, but certainly a start.
