How diaspora struggled to reach relatives during post-poll unrest

The intertwined relationship between Tanzanians abroad and those at home is not just emotional but deeply financial. According to World Bank data, formal remittances from Tanzanians in the diaspora exceed $2 million daily.

These flows constitute one of Tanzania’s most reliable sources of foreign exchange, supporting households, education, health care, and small businesses.

Yet, during the post-election unrest, when the internet was shut down for more than five days, this crucial link was abruptly severed.

The shutdown paralysed financial transactions, disrupted online communication, and sent waves of anxiety through families scattered across continents.

In financial terms, the disruption translated into losses of hundreds of billions of shillings in transactions almost overnight. Tanzanians abroad who attempted to pay school fees, hospital bills, or rent for their families found themselves stranded in confusion.

A Tanzanian woman living in the United States recalled how she tried to settle her mother’s hospital bill, only for the transaction to fail even after funds were deducted from her account.

“The system froze, and I could not reach the hospital or the bank,” she said. Others in Europe and the Middle East shared similar experiences, saying they tried repeatedly to reach their local banks, only to face endless technical errors and unanswered calls.

The panic was intense. For a community accustomed to instant connectivity, being digitally cut off from home was both frightening and disorienting.

Banks later released public statements explaining the technical disruptions and urging customers to remain calm.

They also opened temporary communication channels to handle complaints and reassure clients that no permanent data losses had occurred. Yet, the emotional damage lingered long after the internet was restored.

For the diaspora, the inability to contact relatives during the unrest was unbearable. Many could not verify the safety of their families or confirm rumours circulating on social media. 

In an age where misinformation spreads faster than truth, and artificial intelligence tools can fabricate realistic images and news, finding factual information felt like searching for a needle in a haystack.

For days, the only communication tools that seemed to work were paid international calling applications such as Rebtel and Google Voice.

Diaspora groups across the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, and the Gulf states turned to WhatsApp, Telegram, and Facebook groups to exchange updates and emotional support.

“If you have any verified information about what’s happening in Tanzania, please share it so we can keep each other informed,” one Tanzanian in Germany pleaded online.

For many, a week under internet lockdown felt like an unending year of fear, confusion, and helplessness.

When calm gradually returned after the swearing-in of the President and the internet was restored, the diaspora community flooded online spaces to process what had transpired.

Older Tanzanians living abroad admitted they had never imagined the country could experience such scenes of political violence. Some questioned whether Tanzania, long seen as one of Africa’s most stable nations, was changing.

Others worried whether their investments back home were still safe. “Please do not rush to sell off our plots of land; there is no reason to fear,” urged Dr Shaaban Fundi, a respected community leader among Tanzanians in Atlanta, United States.

His reassuring voice was a lifeline for many who were beginning to panic. The community had been making decisions based on incomplete, often conflicting, information trickling through social media and calls from home.

For others, like Irene, another Tanzanian living in the US, the experience deepened her understanding of why Julius Nyerere had placed such emphasis on national unity.

“Now I understand why Mwalimu fought so hard for unity,” she said in an online discussion. “He wanted a country that would never be divided by religion, ethnicity, or external influence.”

Irene and others suspected that foreign interests were keen to exploit Tanzania’s internal tensions, seeing an opportunity to gain from the nation’s abundant natural resources. She noted that similar interference had worsened conflicts in several other African countries.

Irene also worried about the vulnerability of Tanzanian youth. Many, she said, were detached from the historical values of Ujamaa, when communities worked collectively for the common good. That disconnection, she feared, made them easy targets for manipulation.

In the aftermath of the unrest, the diaspora community’s activism intensified.

They have long advocated for dual citizenship, but this time their focus expanded to demanding accountability for the loss of life during the demonstrations.

Across Europe and North America, Tanzanian diaspora associations organised online vigils and virtual town hall meetings, calling for transparent investigations.

However, their outspokenness has not been universally appreciated. Some Tanzanians at home criticised diaspora members for posting disturbing videos and photos online, claiming they were tarnishing the nation’s image.

“They ask why we are exposing matters that should remain hidden,” said one member based in Canada.

“These questions often come from young Tanzanians working within the government.” She lamented that many of them were self-centred, motivated by personal gain rather than genuine public service.

“They believe their individual success represents national progress,” she said. The debate then shifted to the meaning of patriotism.

What does it mean to be patriotic, loving the country, supporting the government, or showing loyalty to the ruling party?

For many in the diaspora, the boundaries appeared blurred. Some argued that loyalty to leadership in Chamwino was being equated with love for the nation itself.

Others insisted that true patriotism should begin with those in power and be demonstrated through integrity, service, and transparency.

Tanzanians abroad, especially the younger generation, were encouraged to reconnect with their homeland.

“You cannot claim to care for Tanzania if you have never visited it or met your relatives there,” one member said. Many second-generation Tanzanians born overseas know the country only through their parents’ stories.

They recognise its wealth in natural resources, yet often lack a sense of emotional attachment or concrete investment plans.

In several online forums, diaspora members proposed establishing investment funds targeting domestic tourism.

They argued that if international arrivals declined due to negative global media coverage, Tanzanians abroad could fill the gap by promoting internal travel and heritage tourism.

“If we invest in our own tourism, we not only support our economy but also show the world we still believe in our nation,” one member wrote.

Influential Tanzanians abroad were also urged to use social media constructively. They were encouraged to produce educational content comparing public policies and service delivery between Tanzania and developed nations.

“Let’s do short videos explaining how counties and states function in the US, and how similar models could be adapted at home,” one participant suggested. “We should use social media to identify challenges and propose practical solutions, not to deepen division.”

Another recurring theme in diaspora discussions was the widening generational gap between Tanzanian youth and the state. Many insisted that young people should never have to choose between expressing their opinions and preserving their safety.

The two, they said, must coexist, for freedom of expression is a fundamental right.

The diaspora community believes that the events surrounding the 2025 elections should serve as a lesson on the importance of civic dialogue, inclusiveness, and transparency.

They see themselves as an extension of the national conscience, financially supporting the economy, but also morally bound to speak for justice and reconciliation.

“We cannot build Tanzania from afar,” said a member during a virtual meeting. “But we can influence how it heals and grows.”

Efforts to turn words into action soon followed. Nuru Masunga, a Tanzanian living in the United Kingdom, launched a GoFundMe campaign to support victims of the unrest and their families.

Within days, contributions poured in from across the globe, showing that despite distance, the emotional bond between Tanzanians remains strong.

The post-election crisis reminded many in the diaspora that their homeland’s peace cannot be taken for granted. It also rekindled conversations about shared responsibility, good governance, and national unity.

For decades, Tanzania has been admired for its stability and cohesion. Those values, they say, must be preserved through dialogue, tolerance, and a renewed sense of collective patriotism.

In the end, the diaspora’s message was clear: love for Tanzania must transcend politics. Patriotism should be measured not by blind allegiance to leaders, but by commitment to justice, compassion, and truth.

The nation’s strength lies not only in its territory but also in the hearts of its people, both at home and abroad, who continue to hope, to give, and to dream of a Tanzania that stands united in purpose and peace.