By Adonis Byemelwa
On the evening of June 27, 2025, as twilight settled over the capital, President Samia Suluhu Hassan addressed Tanzania’s 12th Parliament in a speech that marked the end of a legislative session and sparked a national discussion.
Her delivery, steady and deliberate, carried the gravity of leadership shaped by complexity and compromise. It wasn’t a speech meant for applause — it was one designed to ground the present while thoughtfully pointing toward an uncertain yet purposeful future.
With calm resolve, she announced that the 12th Parliament will officially be dissolved on August 3, 2025, under the authority granted to her by Article 90(2) of the Constitution.
Nonetheless, this wasn’t just a procedural send-off. It was a carefully woven narrative of transformation—socially, politically, and economically.
It was a speech that reached back into Tanzania’s recent past, addressed the present with resolve, and envisioned a future that resonated with both hope and responsibility.
Among the speech’s most discussed moments was the President’s firm commitment to revive the journey toward a new Constitution—an aspiration long-held by many, paused since 2014.
Acknowledging the emotional and political weight of this cause, Samia assured the nation that the process would be part of the ruling party’s 2025–2030 manifesto, placing it firmly on the horizon of national priorities.
“The time has come,” she said with clarity, “to deliver what Tanzanians have waited for—a constitutional foundation that truly reflects the will of the people.”

She acknowledged the historical trajectory: the initial momentum built under Justice Warioba’s Commission, the intense debates in the Constituent Assembly, and the eventual stalling of the referendum. Her promise to reignite this process wasn’t just procedural; it was symbolic of a leader responding to long-silenced public will.
Critics, especially those aligned with civil society organizations and political analysts from across the spectrum, offered measured skepticism. Some questioned the political will of the ruling party to truly open up a participatory and independent constitutional process, recalling past tensions and the walkout of the UKAWA coalition during the previous constitutional debates. “We’ve heard these promises before,” said a civic leader from Arusha. “Now, we need action, not aspiration.” Still, others admitted that Samia’s tone and transparency felt different this time—more inclusive, more grounded.
Supporters, on the other hand, flooded social media with messages of pride and admiration. Youth organizations, women’s groups, and even former critics praised her “motherly yet firm” leadership. One tweet read: “Mama Samia has turned a page in Tanzanian politics. Calm, clear, and courageous.”
But Samia’s address didn’t end at constitutional matters. She spoke candidly on the lingering shadows of enforced disappearances—an issue few leaders touch publicly.
While she stopped short of offering detailed investigations or policy shifts, her public acknowledgment of the matter sent a ripple across media houses and watchdog groups.
Her instruction to the police to intensify efforts in curbing these incidents was both a rebuke and a rallying call. “I commend the work our police are doing,” she said, “but on this matter—of missing persons—we must do better.”
Her message was balanced: she praised law enforcement for their crime-fighting strides, the 16,000 recruits, the rise in infrastructure, including 472 police stations, and the improved mobility through new vehicles and motorcycles.
At the same time, she signaled areas where trust between the state and its citizens still needs mending. For some Tanzanians, this was the most human moment of the speech—an admission that security is not just about might, but also about empathy.
Economically, President Samia painted a picture of cautious optimism. Tanzania’s GDP had grown from TSh156.4 trillion in 2021 to TSh205.84 trillion by 2024. Inflation was held below 5%, outperforming most East African peers.
She credited this to stable fiscal policies, improved food security, and robust macroeconomic management. Yet, it was the debt statistics—TSh107.7 trillion as of May 2025—that grabbed the attention of financial commentators.
Some critics questioned whether the rising public debt was sustainable, particularly given the shilling’s depreciation against the dollar, from Sh2,298.5 in 2021 to Sh2,650 in 2025.
But the President calmly explained the mechanics: that much of the debt stemmed from disbursements of already-signed loans and was necessary for key development projects. “Debt isn’t inherently bad,” she explained, “it’s a tool—what matters is how we use it.”
She cited projects funded by these loans, from port expansions to agricultural reforms. For instance, access to improved seeds had risen by over 40%, and fertilizer use per hectare jumped from 19 to 24 kilograms.
In the same breath, she announced that fertilizer subsidies worth TSh300 billion had reached farmers, reflecting her administration’s focus on food self-sufficiency and agricultural productivity. Her mention of the Tanzania Ports Authority (TPA) was notable. Operational costs had decreased sharply, while monthly revenue crossed the TSh1 trillion mark for the first time.
Container clearance delays at Dar es Salaam port had dropped dramatically, from five days to immediate berthing on arrival. “Efficiency,” she declared, “isn’t just about systems. It’s about people believing again in public institutions.”
She circled back to politics, revealing how reforms born from national consultations had borne fruit. The creation of the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) through its legislation, she said, was a response to long-standing demands by political stakeholders. “For the first time in our history, our electoral body stands apart—truly independent in structure and spirit.”
This independence also came with reforms such as allowing voters to reject unopposed candidates with a ‘No’ vote—a direct hit at the notorious ‘kupita bila kupingwa’ system. Critics welcomed this with cautious optimism, while supporters saw it as a bold move toward leveling the democratic playing field.

Samia’s “4R” doctrine—Reconciliation, Resilience, Reforms, and Rebuilding—ran like a golden thread through her speech. She credited this philosophy with fostering dialogue across political lines and reopening the democratic space, including lifting bans on political rallies. “We brought people back to the table,” she said, “and out of silence came ideas.”
For many, this was the defining image of her presidency: a leader steering a divided ship toward calmer waters, not with theatrics, but with trust-building steps. The national political council had met six times, new electoral and party laws were passed, and TSh87.87 billion in party subsidies had been disbursed.
She closed her speech on the idea of unity. Addressing the strength of the Union between Tanganyika and Zanzibar, she celebrated the resolution of 15 contentious issues as a triumph of national cohesion. “Let us guard our union,” she urged. “And let us guard the peace that gives it life.” As Parliament rose in applause and citizens reflected on her words, one thing became clear: President Samia’s speech wasn’t just a farewell to the 12th Parliament—it was an invitation. An invitation to build, together, on the quiet strength of a nation still healing, still rising, still hoping.
And for all its measured tone and statistical grounding, the real power of her speech may have been this: it reminded Tanzanians, gently and firmly, that leadership is not just about policies—it’s about presence.