Baba Yunus Muhammad
When Samia Suluhu Hassan assumed Tanzania’s presidency in 2021, she arrived on a tide of cautious optimism. The sudden death of her predecessor, John Magufuli, had left the country in shock and uncertainty. Samia’s calm tone and early conciliatory gestures—restoring international ties, meeting opposition leaders, reopening dialogue with donors—were widely read as signs of a gentler, more pragmatic leadership. Yet four years later, that optimism has largely faded.
The October 2025 election cemented her power in dramatic fashion: an official landslide, nearly 98 percent of the vote, granting her and the ruling Chama Cha Mapinduzi (CCM) an overwhelming mandate. But it was a victory shadowed by suppression and fear. Opposition figures were disqualified or detained, campaign events broken up by security forces, and independent media throttled by new restrictions. When results were announced, protests erupted in Dar es Salaam, Mwanza, and Arusha. Police responded with curfews and force. Several deaths were reported.
The government insists it acted to preserve peace. Critics see the episode as proof that Tanzania’s democracy—once a regional example of quiet stability—has sunk into managed authoritarianism. The overwhelming vote margin, many observers argue, speaks less to popularity than to the absence of any genuine competition.
It is an irony of power: the leader once cast as healer now presides over an anxious nation. The ruling CCM, in office since independence, remains a formidable political machine. Its networks reach into nearly every district, its control of state resources entrenched through decades of incumbency. Samia’s presidency, in this sense, has deepened a long Tanzanian tradition—order without openness.
On the economic front, the picture is no less complex. Tanzania’s GDP growth has remained robust by regional standards, powered by construction, mining, services, and agriculture. Inflation is moderate, and the debt ratio comparatively healthy. Yet beneath these steady macro indicators lies a story of structural fragility. The country’s tax base is too narrow to sustain ambitious spending; vast public projects have piled up commitments without always yielding productivity gains. Youth unemployment is rising, rural inequality widening, and climate pressures increasingly threaten agriculture—the livelihood of most Tanzanians.
Multilateral institutions have praised Samia’s investment drive but warn that without deep revenue reform and stronger governance, Tanzania risks “growing without transforming.” Much of the growth remains urban and capital-intensive, leaving a restless young population excluded from its rewards. The president’s Vision 2050 blueprint—meant to drive industrialization and self-reliance—faces the same fiscal dilemma as similar plans before it: too few domestic resources, and too little political transparency to ensure that what’s spent is spent well.
The political climate only compounds those concerns. Human-rights organizations describe an expanding list of violations: arbitrary arrests, restrictions on assembly, forced evictions linked to development projects, and intimidation of journalists. In many regions, opposition rallies can only proceed under heavy surveillance, if at all. To international partners, Samia’s government projects a narrative of discipline and sovereignty; to her critics, it is a system increasingly allergic to dissent.
For ordinary Tanzanians, these dynamics are not abstract. Economic frustration meets shrinking civic space in dangerous ways. Farmers displaced from ancestral land, students struggling for jobs, and activists facing arrest—each is a symptom of a deeper imbalance between growth and justice. The protests that followed the 2025 election were not merely about votes, but about a sense that the system listens less and commands more.
Still, Samia remains a formidable political force. She has built her authority within CCM through a mix of pragmatism and patronage, consolidating the party’s factions and cultivating an image of motherly resolve. Her soft-spoken manner belies a leader keenly aware of power’s machinery and the price of control. In that respect, she has not betrayed her predecessor’s legacy so much as refined it—turning Magufuli’s confrontational nationalism into a more polished, internationally palatable form of dominance.
Tanzania’s future now stands at a delicate crossroads. One scenario envisions continued growth under tight political control—orderly, predictable, and perhaps efficient in the short term, but brittle in the long run. Another imagines a gradual opening, where the government restores civic freedoms and empowers institutions to check excess. The third, darker path would be escalation: more protests, harsher crackdowns, and international isolation that unravels the country’s economic promise.
The choice, ultimately, rests with the same woman who came to power preaching unity. Samia Suluhu Hassan governs a nation that still believes in its potential—a nation young, resource-rich, and eager for dignity. Whether she leads it toward inclusive prosperity or entrenched control will define not just her presidency, but Tanzania’s next chapter in history.
About the Author:
Baba Yunus Muhammad is the President of the Africa Islamic Economic Forum and a seasoned political analyst focusing on governance, democracy, and socio-economic transformation across Africa. He writes extensively on the intersection of faith, leadership, and political reform on the continent. His work bridges politics, economics, and moral philosophy, highlighting how governance and ethics shape development outcomes across the continent. babayunus@icloud.com