As a contributor to The Chanzo for some time, I felt compelled to write something, to express my profound grief and stand in solidarity with what happened on October 29th, the killing of the people, and the days of darkness that followed.
As someone who believes in democracy and respects human rights, I cannot remain silent and pretend that nothing happened.The unfathomable killing of our people is unacceptable. And even those who do not share this sentiment cannot deny that these events have shaken the nation’s conscience.
Those who peacefully marched in the streets were meant to be protected by our security forces. Instead, excessive force was used, resulting in the loss of lives. This is difficult to justify in any era, especially today.
In his book On Tyranny, Timothy Snyder offers candid advice to those who carry weapons in public: “If you carry a weapon in public service, may God bless you and keep you. But know that the evils of the past involved policemen and soldiers who, at times, acted irregularly. Be prepared to say no.” While it is important not to overly burden those who are armed, it ultimately comes down to a political choice.
I have read several write-ups in here, The Chanzo, on how different writers expressed their grief. That reminded me of a peaceful demonstration in former Eastern Europe, in central Leipzig in 1989. During that period of the communist era, no one believed people would dare demonstrate peacefully under a communist regime known for force.
With candles in their hands, many feared the police would open fire; some readings even say that, with what happened in Tiananmen earlier that year, hospitals were preparing to receive casualties. On the contrary, the communist forces held back.
The Leipzig protestors had learned from the Tiananmen tragedy earlier that year. They refused to repeat that horror. This raises a painful question: is it not possible to do the same here? Are we not yet at a point of civilisation and restraint that the world had reached in 1989? This reminds us that even in difficult political climates, discipline and humanity are possible choices for those in power.
Across Tanzania, the cry over the untimely and heinous deaths of our fellow citizens remains fresh. The tears are not going away anytime soon. The wounds are still bleeding, and families are left wondering what happened to our motherland. The cries of mothers, children, wives, and husbands are inconsolable. A nation once known as the Island of Peace feels shaken. The innocence is gone, like a once modest girl who has now lost her way.
As a nation, we have a moral obligation to ensure justice is obtained, even though moral language may seem unfit for today’s politics. I believe it still carries weight when power often supersedes compassion. The healing of the nation is needed, and it requires a high-calibre of wisdom.
Sensitivity at this point is essential to how we speak, how we make national decisions, and how we act in solidarity with those mourning their loved ones. Our moral obligation now is clear: to seek justice for the lives taken, and to begin the difficult work of national healing.
A Reminder to the State: Its Core Obligation
Perhaps it is the right moment to remind the state of its obligation to protect its people. People’s rights must be respected by all means. The state should ensure that any limitations on rights are reasonable and acceptable in any democratic society.
The state has three basic duties: to fulfill, protect, and respect. To fulfill means using laws, policies, and institutions to allow people to enjoy their rights. To protect means shielding citizens from any interference or violations by others. To respect means refraining from violating rights directly.
READ: Tanzania’s Day of Violence: The Collapse of Conscience and the Reckoning of October 29
However, in practice, the state often becomes the main culprit, through its apparatuses or restrictive laws that curtail rights. Freedoms such as assembly, press, and opinion are frequently the first victims of the state’s heavy hand. These violations create a suffocating civic space.
Even when harm is not directly caused by state agents, the state remains responsible if it fails to protect its people and should not dilute the state’s legal and moral responsibility.
The unprecedented events that occurred after the elections leave the nation with many questions and a strong urge to know how we move forward. The state has a leading role in ensuring we return to normalcy. Conventional morality demands actions that serve both necessity and the common good. What do the public want? Does the state share the public’s sentiment? Does it pay attention to the voice of those in pain?
Due diligence is essential, to understand what happened, to ensure such killings never occur again, and to rebuild trust between citizens and the state. Unresolved issues always usher in new conflicts.
In one of my readings, it is well explained that restoring justice, compensating victims, and reconciling a nation can be challenging and may take years. Systematic abuses that are not adequately addressed often become sources of social unrest and renewed violence.
Re-establishing the rule of law is crucial for sustainable peace, but in our context, rebuilding trust is equally monumental.
What Must Be Done
How do we do this better?
By acknowledging what happened, prosecuting and holding accountable those responsible, promoting national healing, and compensating those affected. Sincerity in this process can take many forms. A good example is the commission appointed by the President to investigate the post-election events.
However, this commission has already attracted heavy criticism, mainly about its composition. People doubt whether justice will be delivered, if at all, because people feel it lacks legitimacy and does not really represent the different factions of society. One good example is the recent court case challenging the legitimacy of the commission’s composition. Such a challenge is itself a sign of low public trust. This should be taken seriously, not dismissed.
READ: Our Tiananmen Moment: Tanzania’s Cry for Justice Amid the October Massacres
As has been reiterated recently, we are not the first nation to encounter this; other countries have faced similar situations but opted for inclusive bodies. A good example in our region and subregion is the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa, Sierra Leone, and Kenya. Such bodies were built on broad public consultations and often perform best when they include significant public outreach and engagement.
The United Republic of Tanzania’s Constitution of 1977 provides a Bill of Rights focusing on civil and political liberties, and Tanzania is a signatory to important international human rights instruments.
Although economic, social, and cultural rights are not fully constitutionalised, the state is still obliged to fulfil them at a minimum level, with progressive realisation over time. For this moment, however, it is our civil and political rights that stand at the centre of national concern.
Courts play a critical role in ensuring the state exercises its power properly. The proportionality test exists precisely for this reason—to guard citizens when rights are restricted. Our courts represent the last hope for victims whose rights have been violated. They must use their authority to ensure the state does not act arbitrarily against the rights and dignity of the victims.
With the recent crackdown on fundamental freedoms, the judiciary is called to rise to its responsibility: to serve as a check, to preserve civic space, and to affirm that no state action is above the law. Only through such measures can Tanzania begin to reclaim its moral standing and rebuild the trust that has been deeply shaken.
It is equally important for the judiciary to resist becoming a politically weaponised arm of the executive, for once the courts lose their independence, the very foundation of justice collapses, and the public’s last refuge disappears.
Fortunata Kitokesya is a lawyer and human rights expert. She is available at fortukito@gmail.com or on X as @fortunatak. The opinions expressed here are the writer’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of The Chanzo. If you are interested in publishing in this space, please contact our editors at editor@thechanzo.com.