Never again: A painful reminder that poison is not to be tasted
With commuter transport having screeched to a halt, bodaboda fares in Dar es Salaam rose up to threefold in the immediate aftermath of the Election Day unrest. PHOTO | FILE
It is a warning, a reminder that not everything is as it appears and that vigilance is essential in protecting what is ours
The Swahili proverb “Sumu haionjwi” which is literally translated as “Poison is not to be tasted” is more than a saying.
It is a warning, a reminder that not everything is as it appears and that vigilance is essential in protecting what is ours. Just as many African communities emphasise safeguarding their own, this timeless wisdom teaches caution. Indeed, when a thief kisses you, count your teeth.
This year’s elections serve as a painful reminder of that truth. What was meant to be a day of civic duty and participation turned tragic on October 29, 2025. Election-related chaos claimed lives, destroyed property and left the nation with lessons that should never have had to be learnt this way.
On the morning of polling day, everything seemed orderly. Voters queued patiently, casting their ballots with optimism. Yet as the day progressed, reports of violence began to surface. That was the start of three traumatic days for Tanzania.
Lives were lost and injuries were recorded. Public and private property were torched, including filling stations, bus rapid transit (BRT) stations, buses, vehicles, police stations/posts, schools and hospitals court buildings among others.
Before long, authorities imposed a curfew, confining citizens indoors and bringing everyday life to a halt.
Social services were disrupted. Ordinary Tanzanians, accustomed to peace and harmony, feared stepping outside, even during permitted hours. Shop owners hesitated to open for business, worried about looting.
Others who depended on daily wages suddenly found themselves idle and hungry. Some turned to begging for help and some of those who were sometimes turned away bred resentment and despair.
The economic impact was immediate. Prices of basic goods soared as supply chains broke down. Limited movement meant that stock could not reach markets and inflation took hold overnight.
Public transport costs rose sharply. Bodabodas and bajajis which are the transport lifelines for low-income earners, tripled their fares. A journey that once cost Sh2,000 suddenly demanded Sh6,000, mirroring the inflated cost of fuel.
Food became scarce. Tomatoes, once plentiful, became four times more expensive. Beef prices nearly doubled in Dar es Salaam. Essentials that were once routine purchases turned into rare luxuries.
Those with chronic illnesses bore an even heavier burden. Patients requiring dialysis, heart treatment, or diabetes management missed crucial appointments due to travel restrictions. For many, rescheduling treatment was not a simple option.
Yet amid the hardship, the curfew revealed glimpses of humanity. For a few days, men stayed home with their families, a rarity in many Tanzanian households. It also exposed who one’s true friends were: those who checked in despite the nationwide internet shutdown.
These were not social media acquaintances reacting to a WhatsApp status, but genuine friends concerned for one’s wellbeing. Still, with no food and spiralling prices, even those moments of solidarity offered little comfort.
Within five days, Dar es Salaam was unrecognisable. Gunfire, tear gas and smoke from burning fuel stations filled the air. Roadblocks and repeated ID checks became part of daily routine.
A simple journey illustrated the scale of the disruption. After being trapped at work on the first day of the curfew, I finally left on October 30, only to face multiple security checks along the way: Buguruni, Tazara, Serengeti Breweries and Nyerere Bridge. Each inspection added minutes of uncertainty and fear.
While various actors may justify their actions, the impact on ordinary citizens was devastating. Life became difficult in ways previously unimaginable.
The events of October 29 underline the priceless value of peace. As the old adage goes, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Sumu haionjwi. Once peace is lost, its return comes at a staggering cost.
Those who have lived in conflict-prone regions understand the profound void it leaves behind, the same peace Tanzanians have cherished for decades.
Education, they say, is expensive. But the cost of losing peace is immeasurably greater. The lesson is clear: Tanzania must never again allow the very fabric of its society to unravel so violently.
Safeguarding life, property and essential services must always outweigh political theatrics. Citizens deserve to exercise their democratic rights without fearing for their lives or livelihoods.
The 2025 elections remind us that vigilance, foresight and empathy are not luxuries; they are necessities. Protecting what is ours, including our families, our communities and our peace, is not optional. It is imperative.
Poison is not to be tasted. Never again should our nation endure a day like October 29, 2025.
