I was prompted to write these reflections down by a session I had the honour and privilege to be part of, organised by the great people of JamiiAfrica, under the stewardship of my friend and mentor, Maxence Melo, on May 27, 2024, at Dar es Salaam, which sought to answer the question of why there’s less public interest journalism in Tanzania, the one serving a watchdog role and enhancing public accountability.
Seasoned print and broadcast journalists attended, and I must admit I was the youngest and least experienced in the room. Nearly everyone was my senior—with the exception of, I think, and with all due respect to, Star TV’s Edwin Odemba! Pun intended, of course.
When the moderator, Dotto Bulendu—a broadcast journalist whose voice is familiar to many—kicked off the conversation, it had a slow start. In a room of about 30 to 40 people, only a few were willing to break the ice. But once one person volunteered, suddenly everyone wanted to speak. It’s always like that, you know—and I assure you, this dynamic didn’t go unnoticed during the meeting.
I tend to talk a lot—fair warning if you invite me to your next session! But this time, I held back (a deliberate choice), opting to listen rather than speak. Partly out of respect for my seniors, but also as an exercise in self-restraint (and trust me, I’m well aware of the irony!). Nearly every speaker painted a bleak, pessimistic picture of the current state of affairs, listing numerous reasons they held responsible for the decline of public interest journalism in Tanzania.
Some blamed repressive media laws—of which Tanzania has no shortage—accusing them of fostering self-censorship in newsrooms. Others pointed to fear, whether of state actors (regulators, police) or non-state actors (media owners, advertisers). Dwindling revenues, a widespread challenge for Tanzanian newsrooms, also came up. Editors even took jabs at journalism schools for producing so-called “half-baked” journalists, while some criticised Gen Z journalists for allegedly lacking a work ethic and curiosity. In short, there was no shortage of explanations for why things are the way they are.
READ MORE: Journalism in the Brave New World: Let Us Choose a Future Where AI Serves Truth, Not Power
And you know what? I agree with every single point raised. Had I been among the first to speak, I would have echoed similar sentiments, perhaps noting how public interest journalism struggles to thrive when journalists must obtain government licenses to practice, effectively requiring them to seek permission from the very institution they’re meant to scrutinise, as is the case here in the country.
No existing world
But listening changed me. It allowed for reflection and, surprisingly, shifted my perspective—a transformation tied to observations I’ve been wrestling with lately, especially given Tanzania’s current political and civic climate. And here’s what I believe: an ideal world, the one many of us imagine, is fancy, but it doesn’t exist.
In that ideal world, journalists would operate freely, holding power to account without fear of reprisal. Governments would welcome scrutiny, and the public would have unfettered access to information. But such a world, sadly, does not exist, not in Tanzania, not anywhere.
These visions of a better world matter. We need dreams – even utopias – to strive toward. They give meaning to our work, reason to rise before dawn and return home long after dark. But we commit a fatal error if we abandon our duties while waiting for this ideal world to materialise. The struggle must continue amidst imperfection.
Democracy and press freedom, I believe, are not static privileges; they are values that must be fought for daily. Journalists cannot afford to wait for a perfect world before fulfilling their duties. If steel is forged through fire, democracy is built through resistance. Every story that challenges power, every investigation that exposes corruption, chips away at authoritarianism. When journalists retreat, repression thrives.
Not alone
Tanzanian journalists aren’t alone in navigating hostile, authoritarian environments. The assault on independent journalism is global – even in nations that profess to champion press freedom. Consider the UK: reporters investigating Britain’s complicity in Israel’s genocide of Palestinians face home raids, equipment seizures, and terrorism investigations simply for doing their jobs.
READ MORE: Financial Struggles Threaten Journalistic Independence Ahead of Tanzania’s 2025 Elections
The European Union has taken the extraordinary step of sanctioning media owners under the dubious pretext of combating “Russian propaganda” – a dangerous precedent that grants governments unilateral authority to determine truth. If you believe state officials should wield this power, I suggest an immediate psychiatric evaluation.
Meanwhile, in the U.S., Reporters Without Borders documents an alarming backslide in press freedom since Donald Trump’s return to power. The man who brands all critical reporting as “fake news” now threatens to complete his assault on American democracy’s fourth estate.
Yet against all these odds, journalists in these nations persist, defying threats, sanctions, and smear campaigns to uphold their sacred duty to truth and public service. Their courage proves that even the most repressive environments cannot extinguish professional integrity when it matters most.
Inspirations to draw
We should also draw inspiration from courageous journalists like Maria Ressa of the Philippines. The Nobel laureate and Rappler co-founder endured relentless persecution under Rodrigo Duterte’s regime, facing bogus tax evasion charges and the constant threat of imprisonment. Yet she never wavered in her mission to expose government abuses, proving that truth-telling can withstand even the most brutal campaigns of legal harassment.
Even in China, where press freedom is virtually non-existent, citizen journalists like Zhang Zhan risked imprisonment to report on COVID-19’s early spread. In Russia, independent outlets like Meduza and Novaya Gazeta operate under constant threat, yet persist in uncovering state crimes.
READ MORE: Tanzania’s Media Reminded to Promote Candidates’ And Citizens’ Voices During Elections
Here in Tanzania, we journalists must move beyond a victim mentality and fully embrace our role as catalysts for change – a point I emphasised during JamiiAfrica’s workshop. Our mission demands that we continually test the boundaries of authoritarian tolerance, walking the crucial line between serving our audiences today while fighting for greater freedoms tomorrow. This dual mandate – to inform despite constraints while relentlessly working to expand those very constraints – defines our generation’s professional challenge.
We must choose: Will we lament our chains, or use every available space to break them? The answer will define the country’s democratic future. But it’s important to remember, the fire that tempers steel does not ask for permission—it burns anyway. Journalism, too, must persist, unyielding, until freedom is no longer a dream, but a reality!
Khalifa Said is the Editor-in-Chief of Dar es Salaam-based digital publication The Chanzo. He’s available at Khalifa@thechanzo.com or on X as @ThatBoyKhalifax. These are the writer’s own opinions and do not necessarily reflect the viewpoint of The Chanzo. Want to publish in this space? Contact our editors at editor@thechanzo.com for further inquiries.
One Response
Commitment, Courage Curiosity.
Commitment to the profession, commitment to society.
Commitment to search the truth,
Courage to tell the truth, and
Curiosity to go beyond the obvious, to dig deeper the surface.
Hold onto 3Cs.