How Samia's rule is fueling East Africa's rise as repression hub

Tanzania rises from the rubble, but at what cost to regional integration?

The air in the once beacon of calm is still thick with fear and unspoken grief. Once an island of internal stability, Tanzania briefly lost its sobriety, gripped by a sudden delirium of chaos — and now staggers back from the brink, its public trust shattered and social order in tatters.

Last Saturday, President Samia Suluhu Hassan was declared the winner in what observers described as a “Samia vs Suluhu” contest, sweeping nearly 100 per cent of the vote in a disputed election. The result was so implausible that both the African Union (AU) and the Southern African Development Community (SADC) dismissed it as falling short of democratic standards. Despite protests and violence, Suluhu claimed 31 million of 37 million registered votes, 98 per cent of ballots cast, and 270 of 272 parliamentary seats, amid internet shutdowns, curfews, and blackouts.

For years, Suluhu cultivated an image of calm authority — the soft-spoken “Mama Samia” hailed as a new dawn after John Magufuli’s repressive rule. She reopened media outlets, freed political prisoners, and charmed diplomats. The world wanted to believe Tanzania was back — steady, open, reconciled.

That hope quickly crumbled. Her government soon jailed opponents, suppressed protests, and staged an election with a preordained outcome. Blaming “foreigners” for unrest, Suluhu’s actions, analysts warn, threaten not just Tanzania’s democracy, but the long-held dream of a politically and economically integrated East Africa.

A regional contagion

Tanzania’s regression mirrors a wider regional trend where leaders prioritise mutual control over democracy. Across East Africa, a quiet coordination of repression has emerged — a tripartite network that targets dissenters rather than criminals or traffickers. Tanzania, Uganda, and Kenya have become pillars of this “trinity of terror”, synchronising surveillance and crackdowns as election calendars converge. What was once a region of shared progress is now a theatre of fear, where silence passes for stability.

Across Tanzania, Rwanda, Uganda, and Burundi, opposition movements are dismantled or disqualified. In Burundi, veteran leader Agathon Rwasa was barred from the 2025 elections, cementing one-party dominance. In Tanzania, Chadema’s Tundu Lissu was excluded on treason charges, while ACT-Wazalendo’s Luhaga Mpina was disqualified — leaving no real contest.

Beyond borders, repression has grown bolder. Uganda’s opposition leader Kizza Besigye was abducted in Nairobi in November 2024 by men believed to be Ugandan agents; his ally Hajji Obeid Lutale was seized in Kampala. Both face treason charges before a military court — a stark reminder that dissent is no longer confined by geography.

Even Kenya, long seen as an outlier, witnessed a June 2024 crackdown on politically active youth, a chilling sign ahead of its 2027 polls.

The human cost of repression

The human toll extends beyond politicians. Kenyan activists Bob Njagi and Nicholas Oyoo were abducted in Uganda while attending Robert Kyagulanyi’s (Bobi Wine’s) manifesto launch, detained for five weeks in a military facility, and later dumped at the Busia border. Tanzanian activist Maria Sarungi Tsehai was similarly abducted in Kenya by alleged Tanzanian agents, released only after public outrage. Analysts say such incidents, coupled with official silence, show dissent has become a continental offence punished with chilling precision.

Suluhu’s contradiction is stark: she champions free movement of goods and capital but treats the free flow of ideas as a threat. Her government’s deportation of Kenyan civil society figures, including Martha Karua, Willy Mutunga, and Boniface Mwangi, exposes a double standard that erodes East African unity.

At home, Suluhu’s democratic mask slipped swiftly. Her landslide victory — 31 million votes out of 37.7 million registered — raised immediate doubts. Professor Dan Paget of the University of Sussex called the result “a warning in daylight: don’t resist us.”

In her first post-election address, Suluhu acknowledged “loss of lives” but claimed those arrested were “from other countries”, framing local dissent as foreign agitation. Analysts say the remarks, branding protesters “neither noble nor patriotic”, marked a sharp departure from her once-maternal image.

Africa Policy Institute CEO Professor Peter Kagwanja observed: “Mama Samia’s mask fell. Her words, describing people as viumbe (creatures), revealed a government that sees dissent as alien — to be crushed, not engaged.” He added: “East Africans are citizens of all EAC states. Treating them as foreigners undermines the foundation of integration.”

Kagwanja recalled Julius Nyerere’s original vision of unity: delaying Tanzania’s 1961 independence to synchronise freedom with Kenya and Uganda. “We’re reminding Suluhu that East Africa has always stood for freedom. That legacy must endure,” he said.

Constitutional lawyer Dr Koki Muli Grignon called Suluhu’s tone a monumental let-down. “As Mama wa Taifa (Mother of the Nation), she was expected to embody reconciliation. Instead, we saw aggression and resentment.”

Analysts argue Suluhu’s regression deepens internal repression and weakens East Africa’s moral fabric. Nicodemus Minde of the Institute for Security Studies notes that after launching her “4Rs” reform agenda — reconciliation, resilience, reforms, and rebuilding — she abruptly retreated. The lead-up to the 2025 election revived the Magufuli-era playbook of abductions and police brutality, betraying regional ideals of openness and accountability.

South African journalist Peter Fabricius frames this as part of broader regional decay: “Democracy in East Africa is in bad shape and getting worse. The glimmer of hope after Magufuli’s death has now been extinguished.” He argues Suluhu’s retreat mirrors her neighbours’ autocratic instincts, imperilling the East African Community’s long-held vision of political federation.Foreign policy analyst Mikhail Nyamweya describes Suluhu’s strategy as a “securitisation” of civil society, treating activists and critics as national security threats. “Integration cannot be people-centred when citizens are treated as foreign meddlers,” he warns.

Guarded sovereignty

Suluhu’s rhetoric favours guarded sovereignty over open regionalism: “The CCM prefers control over consent.” As she begins her second term, Suluhu is redefining leadership outside Magufuli’s shadow. Yet regional cooperation remains unavoidable, particularly with Kenya’s Ruto and Uganda’s Museveni, even as her domestic crackdown could inspire similar tactics ahead of Uganda’s 2026 and Kenya’s 2027 elections.

Governance analyst Elizabeth Adundo observes: “Dictatorships protect one another. At Suluhu’s inauguration, regional leaders offered congratulations despite overwhelming evidence of malpractice.” Even the EAC observer mission praised her as an example of African women’s leadership despite clear irregularities. Such peer endorsement, Adundo warns, normalises repression and undermines the EAC’s people-centred integration.

Museveni’s continued push for federation while silencing dissent exposes the hollow core of East Africa’s unity project. As regimes align in autocracy, the idea of a federal union risks becoming an alliance of rulers, not peoples. Dr Koki highlights institutional contradictions: Kenya’s 2010 Constitution allows judicial review of elections, while Tanzania’s electoral commission decisions are final. “Merging these under one federal system is philosophically inconsistent,” she says. “What’s emerging is a federation of regimes, not a union of citizens.”

Paradoxically, Suluhu projects strong economic diplomacy abroad. She advocates accelerated SADC integration, industrialisation, and counter-terrorism cooperation. Yet political repression undermines these gains: “Heavy-handed governance discourages partners and erodes legitimacy.”

Following Magufuli’s death, Suluhu commissioned Tanzania’s first foreign policy review in two decades, signalling ambition to restore global credibility.
The tension between Suluhu’s motherly persona and authoritarian rule shapes public perception. Her rise once embodied hope — a woman leader seen as gentle, reformist, and inclusive. Professor Kagwanja reflects: “We believed she’d humanise a hardened system. That belief has now been betrayed, leaving disillusionment across East Africa.”
Across the EAC, the “trinity of terror” — Tanzania, Uganda, and Kenya — enforces coordinated repression, monitoring activists, journalists, and digital communities. Many East Africans now find that nationality or asylum rights offer little protection, and dissent, once a national act, has become a regional crime. Analysts warn this trend undermines the EAC’s people-centred mandate, turning it into a network of mutually reinforcing autocrats rather than a federation of citizens.

The writer is University of York (CAHR), 2023/24 Fellow Independent Investigative Journalist