Dear Maria Sarungi-Tsehai,

I recently came across a widely forwarded WhatsApp message attributed to you, discussing the identity of Deogratius Ndejembi during his transition to the vice presidency. 

The message raises claims about his mother being from Zanzibar and his having changed his religion while living in the United Kingdom. I cannot independently verify either the message’s authorship or those claims. But the decision to foreground ancestry and faith in judging a public official deserves a response.

Tanzanians have a right to express and exchange views, including online. That right is protected by Article 18 of the Constitution. It is exercised in a digital environment where online platforms have faced restrictions, and some people use virtual private networks to access blocked services.

Freedom of expression, however, does not remove the responsibility to consider how words shape political culture. You are an experienced media professional and a prominent activist with a wide public audience. 

When a public message centres a leader’s parentage or religion, it risks inviting readers to treat national office as a prize for one group rather than a public trust held for all Tanzanians.

Questions that matter

In my opinion, there were stronger questions to ask about the vice presidency. Is the appointment process transparent and constitutional? What authority does the office hold? Should Tanzania reconsider the role itself? Does its occupant have the integrity, experience and public record needed to serve the country?

READ MORE: Tanzania’s Ruling CCM Expels Ex-Vice President a Day After His Resignation, Names Deogratius Ndenjembi as New VP

Deogratius Ndejembi was sworn in as Vice President on August 29, following his nomination and parliamentary approval. The constitutional requirements for the office do not include a candidate’s mother’s birthplace or religious identity. 

Article 47 requires, among other conditions, Tanzanian citizenship by birth, a minimum age of 40, political-party membership and nomination, and eligibility for Parliament or the House of Representatives. It also provides that the President and Vice President must come from different parts of the Union.

A person does not choose their parents, birthplace or the faith in which they are raised. Nor should a person’s decision to practise, leave or change a religion disqualify them from public life. Article 13 guarantees equality before the law and prohibits discrimination. Article 19 protects freedom of conscience, faith and religion, including the freedom to change one’s religion.

None of this means public office is beyond scrutiny. It means that scrutiny should be relevant. If a relative’s influence creates a conflict of interest, it should be investigated. If an office-holder abuses power, violates the Constitution or fails the public, they should be held accountable. 

But questions about a parent’s origins or a person’s faith, without evidence of wrongdoing, lead us away from the issues that matter.

Weaponisation of identities

Political identity can be used to decide whose citizenship appears more legitimate than another’s. We should be wary of that path. It is not an abstract danger. In India, human-rights monitors have documented discrimination, hostility and violence against Muslims and other minorities under the Hindu-nationalist BJP government. 

READ MORE: ​​Ndejembi Sworn In as Tanzania’s New Vice President

Human Rights Watch has also recorded attacks by Hindu mobs against Muslims in some circumstances. Tanzania is not India, and the comparison should not be overstated. The point is simpler: when leaders and commentators turn religion or ancestry into political suspicion, the consequences can be deeply divisive.

I disagree with calls to divide Tanzania in pursuit of a separate Tanganyika. People who hold that view are entitled to state it peacefully, but the country’s political future cannot be built by ranking citizens according to birthplace, parentage or faith.

I do not need to assume that the message was motivated by Islamophobia to ask why religion was made central to the discussion. What public interest is served by presenting someone’s religious journey as a reason for suspicion? 

Are we suggesting that people who profess a particular faith should be barred from senior office? And what would that mean for the constitutional promise that every Tanzanian belongs equally in the Republic?

Beyond the labels

The deeper question is not whether someone represents “CCM B” or another political camp. It is whether they belong to a political class that enjoys access to public power and resources while many people face rising living costs, insecure work, low crop prices, land disputes and heavy-handed policing.

Those are the matters on which a Vice President, like every senior public official, should be judged. Will they defend people’s rights? Will they promote fair economic policies? Will they support transparency in public investment and protect communities from unlawful dispossession? Will they challenge the misuse of state power?

READ MORE: The Illusion of Unity—Who Truly ‘Belongs’ in Tanzania? 

The ability to speak from outside Tanzania gives public commentators an important platform, but it also carries a duty to avoid framing public debate in ways that place ordinary citizens on opposing sides of an identity divide. 

If we raise our voices, let us do so for issues that advance the shared struggles of people facing economic hardship, not to add fuel to the fire of state impunity.

In the late afternoon, I sometimes pass through Mabibo Market to look for lower evening prices. The muddy market paths and the traffic between Urafiki and Shekilango roads can be exhausting, but I am often cheered by a bus marked Asante Rabi. Its back window carries a faded American flag and an image of Mary, the mother of Jesus.

For me, it is a small metaphor for Tanzania. Many people live with and celebrate both Islamic and Christian traditions: the anticipation of iftar in Ramadan, the shared meals of Christmas, and the everyday neighbourhood ties that make differences ordinary rather than threatening. 

The bus may be privately owned, but it carries passengers of varied backgrounds along the same roads. That is part of what national belonging should mean.

I may have misunderstood the message attributed to you, Maria, or perhaps it left out important context. Still, the question remains. What combination of parentage, birthplace or faith should disqualify someone from serving as Tanzania’s second-highest public official? 

The Constitution gives us a better answer: none. Public service should be judged by constitutional qualifications, conduct and commitment to all Tanzanians.

Diana Kamara is the daughter of Adria Kokulengya. She is available at dianakkamara@gmail.com. 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.