Tragedy of Tanzania's 98% vote

History teaches us that when democratic pressure builds with no outlet, something eventually breaks. That is not stability; it is a ticking bomb

- Gitobu Imanyara

t’s the kind of headline that makes you blink twice. The kind you assume must be a typo. Yet there it was, the official figure in Tanzania’s presidential election. President Samia Suluhu Hassan declared the winner with a staggering 98% of the vote.

Let that number sit with you for a second. Not 58, not 68, not even 78. Ninety-eight percent. The kind of figure that doesn’t just raise eyebrows. It raises alarms. The kind of figure that insults the intelligence of every citizen who can count beyond ten.

Because let’s be honest, nobody gets 98% of anything in a real democracy. Not in a country of millions, not when people have real choices.

That’s the core of this story. There were no choices in Tanzania. The opposition was not defeated; it was dismantled. Major rivals were disqualified on laughable technicalities or jailed on fabricated charges before campaigns even began. It was not an election. It was a coronation conducted under the illusion of choice.

Picture this: you train for a race, show up at the track, and before the starting pistol fires, theorganisers break your legs, then celebrate your failure to finish. That is not competition. That is control.

Yet as fireworks lit up Dar es Salaam on election night, Samia Suluhu stood on stage draped in victory colours, declaring the election “free and democratic.” The cameras rolled. The diplomats smiled politely. The African Union issued its predictable congratulations. And once again, Africa was asked to applaud a charade dressed as Democracy.

Behind those staged celebrations lies a darker truth. Reports, credible, verified, and chilling from diplomats, human rights observers, and opposition insiders suggest that between 500 and 1,000 Tanzanians were killed in the days surrounding the election.

Not detained. Not missing. Dead. Young men and women whose only crime was believing that their voices mattered. The government, of course, denies everything.