The flow of goods, data, and confidence is not only economic but psychological. When communication is disrupted, so is commerce. When information is blocked, uncertainty fills the void
What I learnt from not having access to the Internet for six days is that we survived. It was not easy, but we did.
The experience was a stark reminder that we have become slaves to technology. Back in the paper days, life did not grind to a halt when systems failed. We found ways to adapt, to communicate, to move forward. There were alternatives, and we used them instinctively.
During the blackout, I was thankful that voice calls, SMS, and M-Pesa were still working. Word of mouth once again became the most powerful form of communication, something advertisers have always understood. Messages travelled by phone, by conversation, by trust.
I happened to be in Kagera, where life seemed deceptively normal. I could drive across districts, attend events both sombre and festive, and connect with people in person.
The air was calm, conversations lively, and the days full of motion. Yet beneath that surface calm, the ripple effects of Dar es Salaam’s slowdown were beginning to show. Supplies were tightening, and whispers of uncertainty began to spread across towns.
People started making their own adjustments. Some passengers changed their flight tickets back to Dar es Salaam, preferring to delay their return until things stabilised. Those with international connections chose to reroute through Entebbe.
The vast majority of Dar es Salaam landers who hail from there chose to stay put. After all, they were at home, surrounded by family and familiarity. They made peace with the fact that things were what they were and chose to wait it out.
The anatomy of interconnection
The incident underscored just how deeply interconnected our country is. Dar es Salaam may be the nerve centre, but the signals it sends or fails to send determine how every other region functions.
The flow of goods, data, and confidence is not only economic but psychological. When communication is disrupted, so is commerce. When information is blocked, uncertainty fills the void.
In a digital economy, the Internet is not a luxury. It is the oxygen that keeps businesses breathing. From mobile money transfers to e-commerce deliveries, academic research to hospital record systems, connectivity has become the invisible infrastructure that keeps society coherent. Its absence reveals just how fragile that coherence can be.
A cash economy reborn
When the Internet went dark, the entire banking system fell silent. ATMs were not functioning, mobile banking apps froze, and online transactions vanished. In a matter of hours, we were thrust back into a cash economy.
Those who had cash in hand became unexpectedly powerful, while those who did not were stranded. Businesses that once thrived on digital payments struggled to sell.
Shops, market stalls, and even hospitals began demanding cash only. As supplies dwindled, from medicines to basic foodstuffs, prices of essential goods skyrocketed.
Was it a shutdown or a system failure? We may never know for sure. What is certain is that the experience revealed just how deeply digital systems now shape daily life.
It was an uncomfortable reminder that convenience can quickly turn into dependence, and that our economic resilience must include the ability to function when digital access is restricted or unavailable.
A test of resilience
The six-day blackout was, in many ways, a national stress test. It forced us to rediscover old muscles: to speak, to walk, to write, to listen. It showed that while technology connects us, it also exposes our fragility.
Those who had backup systems, whether business owners with offline ledgers or families who kept a little cash for emergencies, coped better. But for many, it was a paralysis of progress.
And yet, within that paralysis, there was a quiet awakening. Communities began to reconnect in person. People shared information face to face.
Strangers helped each other navigate challenges, share resources, and stay informed. It was inconvenient, yes, but also humanising.
Regional ripples and policy reflections
Tanzania’s six-day blackout also exposed the regional vulnerabilities that come with shared systems and interlinked economies. East Africa’s trade corridors, from the Central Corridor through Dar es Salaam to the Northern Corridor through Mombasa, depend on digital coordination.
Transporters, customs agents, clearing firms, and logistics providers all rely on Internet-based platforms to process shipments and payments. When one link falters, the chain slows across borders.
The experience also highlighted how deeply digital tools, including mobile financial services and online platforms, have become woven into everyday life and commerce.
For years, these innovations have expanded inclusion, simplified payments, and accelerated regional trade. Yet the recent disruption reminded us that even the most transformative technologies require strong contingency planning to maintain continuity when systems are under strain.
Across East Africa, border communities and regional businesses would likely have felt the ripple effects of such a slowdown, given how much cross-border trade and cooperation now depend on real-time communication and digital connectivity.
It was a quiet but powerful illustration of how regional systems can be both our strength and our vulnerability.
This is not just a Tanzanian story. It is an East African wake-up call. The region’s ambitions, from the African Continental Free Trade Area to digital tax systems, rest on the assumption of uninterrupted connectivity. Policymakers must therefore move beyond convenience to resilience:
• Redundancy must be built into regional networks
• Data sovereignty should not mean isolation but continuity
• Backup channels for essential services, from banking to health and logistics, must be institutionalised, not improvised
Digital transformation is irreversible, but it must be made shockproof. A single point of failure should not bring a nation, or a region, to a standstill.
In the end
Perhaps these six days were not only an interruption, but an invitation:
• To rethink our dependence
• To value connection beyond screens
• And to remember that resilience, like signal strength, comes not from one tower, but from the network we build together
