Tanzania Grapples With Unity and Silence After Samia’s Year-End Speech Amid Growing Division
2nd January,2026
By Adonis Byemelwa
President Samia Suluhu Hassan’s end-of-year address, which closed 2025, was delivered in a calm, deliberate register, intended to steady a nation emerging from one of its most emotionally charged and politically fraught years in recent memory.
Her tone was measured, her cadence reassuring, and her language carefully chosen to emphasise continuity rather than rupture. In a year marked by anxiety, confrontation, and unresolved questions, the address appeared designed to restore equilibrium rather than provoke debate.
“As we bid farewell to this year, I call upon every Tanzanian to safeguard peace, unity and solidarity,” she said, reminding citizens that “our strength as a nation has always been our ability to remain united even in times of challenge.”
She thanked Tanzanians for what she described as quiet resilience through a challenging year, acknowledging patience and endurance that kept daily life moving despite political and economic strain. Law enforcement and security agencies received particular praise for carrying heavy responsibilities, alongside an appeal to maintain professionalism and respect for citizens’ rights.
The President then turned to development, emphasising stability as the foundation upon which progress depends. Roads, ports, energy projects, and social services, she argued, must be protected from political turbulence if national gains are to be sustained.
She reaffirmed commitments to economic strengthening, regional trade, and fiscal discipline, while restating that constitutional reform remained on the agenda, to be pursued carefully and inclusively.
Acknowledging rainfall shortages in parts of the country in October and wider global economic pressures, she nonetheless expressed confidence in Tanzania’s capacity to recover through investment and cooperation.
On paper, the speech followed a familiar and disciplined arc. Nevertheless, for many listeners, the calm, forward-looking tone collided sharply with unresolved pain.
That tension lingered long after the broadcast ended. Within hours, what was meant as reassurance had ignited a national conversation that stretched far beyond social media.
In buses stalled in Dar es Salaam traffic, in student hostels in Arusha, in markets in Mbeya and Morogoro, and in village meetings across Singida and Tabora, Tanzanians debated not only what the President had said, but what she had left unsaid.
Central to the backlash was the President’s silence on allegations of enforced disappearances. Throughout 2025, families and human rights groups raised alarms over activists and political figures reported missing under unclear circumstances.
While the address warned that “no grievance should be addressed through violence or chaos,” relatives of the missing felt erased by the absence of acknowledgement.
Online, names such as Boniface Mwangi and Said Kibanya circulated alongside pleas for answers, revealing fear that had not yet found language within official narratives.
The October 29 general elections formed the second, and perhaps most explosive, fault line. Election day violence left civilians dead and many others injured in clashes witnessed and recorded across the country.
Nevertheless, the address made no direct reference to those killings. When the President said, “Our democratic journey has not been without challenges, but we must choose dialogue over division,” families who had buried loved ones heard avoidance rather than healing. The omission hardened perceptions that accountability was being deferred in favour of stability.
Young people responded with particular intensity. University students and first-time voters, many of whom had experienced arrests, intimidation, or the loss of peers, argued that repeated calls for patience felt like demands for silence.
In Dar es Salaam, commuters voiced similar frustrations, questioning whether leadership fully grasped the cost-of-living pressures shaping daily life. Traders and small business owners in regional towns echoed this sense of distance, asking in radio call-in programmes, “Progress for whom?”
Opposition parties accused the President of missing an opportunity to confront political wounds directly, arguing that unity cannot be commanded without addressing repression and disputed outcomes.
Civil society organisations echoed this view more cautiously, warning that peace without justice remains fragile. Analysts noted that the unusually intense reaction to a ceremonial address suggested a more profound rupture between state messaging and lived experience.
That rupture widened when former Chief Justice Joseph Sinde Warioba, in an interview with veteran journalist Jackton Manyerere of Jamhuri, reportedly remarked that civilians killed during the October elections exceeded those lost during the 1978–79 war with Idi Amin’s Uganda.
The comparison, shocking to many, spread rapidly. Warioba called for honesty and accountability, warning that “a nation that refuses to face the truth condemns itself to repeat its mistakes.” Praise for his courage was matched by sharp criticism, particularly from commentators accusing him of exaggeration or bias.
The controversy soon engulfed Jamhuri itself. Managing Editor Deodatus Balile later announced the suspension of print publication, citing a cash crisis and an outstanding government debt of Tsh300 million.
To critics, the timing felt ominous; to government supporters, it was purely financial. Either way, it intensified concerns about shrinking media space.
Religious voices added moral weight. Catholic bishops urged leaders to listen to citizens’ suffering and prioritise truth and reconciliation, warning that unaddressed injustice threatens cohesion.
Many faith leaders rejected attempts by some commentators to frame the debate along religious lines, yet their emergence underscored how fragile social trust had become.
It was within this atmosphere that Bishop Josphat Gwajima of Glory of Christ Church re-emerged into public debate.
Following the temporary closure of his church under unexplained circumstances and its later reopening by the government, Gwajima spoke forcefully against abductions.
Using widely circulated language, he insisted that “abductions must stop” and warned that silence corrodes the national conscience.
His intervention resonated because it bridged faith, fear, and civic responsibility, articulating what many felt but hesitated to say publicly.
Supporters of President Samia pushed back, arguing that the address was never intended to catalogue grievances.
They praised her steady leadership and repeated assertion that “without peace, no development is possible.”
Even among supporters, however, there was recognition that the national mood was restless. In rural areas, farmers spoke quietly of rising input costs, climate pressures, and uncertain markets. The optimistic national story felt distant.
By week’s end, the address had become a mirror reflecting a divided nation. Universities hosted debates, newspapers published sharply opposing views, and social media remained ablaze.
What was meant to close 2025 instead opened a deeper conversation about accountability, trust, and the meaning of unity.
The backlash revealed a simple truth: unity cannot be declared into existence. It must be built through acknowledgement, dialogue, and visible accountability. How leadership responds now may define Tanzania’s road ahead.
