Tanzania is at a crossroads after a tumultuous week that has shaken its long-standing image as one of East Africa’s most stable nations. Following the October 29, 2025 presidential election, which saw President Samia Suluhu Hassan claim victory with a staggering 97.66 percent of the vote, the country has been engulfed in unrest, uncertainty, and international scrutiny. The official results, announced on November 1, left little doubt about the outcome, but the process—and its aftermath—have sparked the largest protests since independence in 1961, paralyzing daily life and raising urgent questions about the future of democracy in Tanzania.
The roots of the crisis are tangled in the country’s political culture. The ruling Chama Cha Mapinduzi (CCM) party has held power uninterrupted since independence, often justifying tight controls in the name of stability. This year’s election, however, marked a dramatic escalation. Both of President Hassan’s main challengers—Tundu Lissu of Chadema and Luhaga Mpina of ACT-Wazalendo—were barred from running, with Lissu jailed on treason charges after calling for electoral reforms. As The Associated Press reported, this left Hassan “virtually unopposed,” a situation critics described as less an election than a coronation.
Discontent boiled over almost immediately. From Dar es Salaam to Arusha and Mwanza, thousands of Tanzanians—many of them young and from the informal sector—poured into the streets. According to reports compiled by BBC and The Associated Press, demonstrators defied curfews and faced off against security forces armed with tear gas and live ammunition. The protests weren’t confined to isolated pockets; instead, they swept the nation, reflecting a groundswell of frustration not just with the election, but with years of economic hardship and political exclusion.
The government’s response was swift and uncompromising. The military was deployed to assist police in quelling riots, and internet connectivity became patchy at best, creating what many described as an information blackout. Journalists were arrested, and domestic flights were canceled, stranding hundreds of travelers at airports. As French tourist Irvine René told Reuters at Zanzibar Airport, “We are traveling from Zanzibar to Paris, but we cannot because the flight from Zanzibar to Nairobi is cancelled so, we are stuck here. We do not know where to stay, where to sleep tonight. We do not know. We will see.”
International reaction was immediate and pointed. The United Kingdom, United States, and Canada all advised their citizens against traveling to Tanzania, citing the violence and instability. The foreign ministers of the UK, Canada, and Norway released a joint statement highlighting “credible reports of a large number of fatalities and significant injuries, as a result of the security response to protests.” The European Union urged Tanzanian authorities to “exercise maximum restraint to preserve human lives.” United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres echoed these concerns on November 1, urging all parties to “prevent further escalation.”
Despite the government’s insistence that the situation was “under control,” independent observers and rights groups painted a far grimmer picture. The UN human rights office, through spokesman Seif Magango, reported credible accounts of at least 10 deaths in Dar es Salaam, Shinyanga, and Morogoro as of October 31. Amnesty International and the International Crisis Group both warned of a pattern of enforced disappearances, arbitrary arrests, and extrajudicial killings in the lead-up to the polls. A UN panel cited more than 200 cases of enforced disappearance since 2019, expressing alarm at what they described as “a pattern of repression.”
The protests themselves are a testament to Tanzania’s shifting demographics and the growing impatience of its youth. More than half of the population is under 18, and nearly three-quarters of the workforce is engaged in informal labor—street vendors, motor-taxi operators, and others on the economic margins. While the economy has grown steadily under Hassan’s stewardship, the benefits have not been evenly shared; roughly two-thirds of Tanzanians still live in poverty, and investments in health and education lag behind regional peers. For many young people, the exclusion of opposition candidates was simply the last straw in a long list of grievances.
President Hassan, for her part, struck a conciliatory tone after receiving her winner’s certificate in Dodoma. “It is notable that Tanzanians voted overwhelmingly for a female leader,” she said. “Now the election is over, it’s time to unite our country and not destroy what we’ve built over more than six decades. We will take all actions and involve all security agencies to ensure the country is peaceful.” Yet opposition leaders were unconvinced. Chadema, in a statement late Saturday, declared, “These results have no basis in reality, as the truth is that no genuine election took place in Tanzania,” accusing Hassan of retaining power “by force.”
Amid the unrest, the government postponed the reopening of universities, originally scheduled for November 3. In Dar es Salaam, security forces set up roadblocks, demanding identification from anyone venturing outside. The capital’s tense calm was mirrored in other cities, where the threat of further violence loomed large.
For many observers, the events in Tanzania are part of a broader continental story. Youth-led movements have been reshaping political landscapes across Africa, from Nigeria’s #EndSARS to Kenya’s cost-of-living marches. The question now is whether Tanzania’s leadership can adapt to the aspirations of its young majority—or whether the current confrontation will deepen cynicism and instability. As The Guardian noted, “Tanzania’s unrest has become a mirror for the continent’s broader question: can Africa’s leadership evolve fast enough to match the demands of its young majority?”
The CCM’s grip on power, rooted in its historic ties to the state and its reputation for orchestrating orderly transitions, faces perhaps its sternest test yet. Critics argue that President Hassan’s administration has gone further than her predecessors in curbing freedoms and cracking down on dissent, defying the region’s growing appetite for democratic reform. Yet for all the turmoil, Tanzania’s political system remains deeply entrenched—its rural base loyal, its security apparatus formidable.
The coming weeks will be critical. The world watches to see whether Tanzania can chart a path toward dialogue and reform, or whether it will double down on repression. For now, the voices of the young and the marginalized echo through the streets and social media, demanding not just a say in politics, but a stake in the country’s future. The next chapter in Tanzania’s story remains unwritten, but one thing is clear: the era of unchallenged rule is over, and the call for change will not be easily silenced.
