In the wake of the general election held on 29 October 2025, Tanzania, long heralded as one of East Africa’s steadiest nations, erupted into open protest. Under the cloud of the ruling party’s dominance, mounting youth anger, and apparent suppression of opposition voices, citizens took to the streets in unprecedented numbers. At the centre of this storm is President Samia Suluhu Hassan, whose consolidation of power and style of rule have prompted critics to dub her “Idi Amin Mama, a deliberately provocative comparison to the late Idi Amin Dada of Uganda, meant to reflect a rising tolerance for authoritarian excess, electoral manoeuvres, and coercive politics under a female head of state. The moniker, though jarring, serves to underscore the growing perception among Tanzania’s younger generations that their country no longer marches freely but is instead sliding toward de facto one-party rule.
critics to dub her “Idi Amin Mama, a deliberately provocative comparison to the late Idi Amin Dada of Uganda,
Why the nickname? Idi Amin Dada became synonymous with brutal and erratic governance, the suppression of dissent, and the veneer of legality used to perpetuate power. In Tanzania today, observers note eerily similar signs: key opposition figures barred from the ballot, widespread internet blackouts, and state forces deployed in a capital city turned into a zone of conflict. Human rights advocates described the events during election day as deeply disturbing given the nation’s previous reputation for stability, with reports of injuries and arrests during the protests.
At the heart of the unrest was the election day itself. More than 37 million registered Tanzanians were called to vote, yet many saw the process as a foregone conclusion rather than a meaningful choice. Violence broke out in Dar es Salaam and other cities after the police imposed curfews and responded with force during what looked like a protest movement fueled by youth anger and resentment. The government responded by deploying the military and cutting internet access across large swathes of the country. Such heavy handed actions only magnified the sense of disenfranchisement among young Tanzanians.
Violence broke out in Dar es Salaam and other cities after the police imposed curfews and responded with force
How did this happen in a country often cited as democratic and peaceful? Several factors combined to light the fuse. Firstly, the exclusion of the primary opposition parties, Chama cha Demokrasia na Maendeleo (CHADEMA) and ACT Wazalendo, from the election created a hollow contest, prompting the opposition leader Tundu Lissu to call for a boycott under the banner “No Reforms, No Election.” Secondly, the rise of Gen Z and younger Millennial voters, digitally connected, impatient with incremental change, and inspired by protest movements in Kenya and Madagascar, has reshaped the political terrain. They are demanding voice, agency, and results, not just rhetoric.
Add to this the digital dimension: nationwide internet disruptions, social media shutdowns, and reports of coordinated protest messaging via walkie talkie apps during election day highlight how technology both empowers young activists and triggers state anxieties. And then there is the economic backdrop: high youth unemployment, a sense of stagnation, and even as economic gro
will the new generation demand change outside the ballot box?
What this all points to is a tectonic shift beneath Tanzania’s surface calm. The protests are less about one election and more about a generational breaking point, where young citizens say enough is enough. The moniker “Idi Amin Mama” is meant not only to shock but to spark a conversation about what governance and democracy should look like in a 21st century Tanzania. Will the ruling party listen? Will reforms follow? Or will the new generation demand change outside the ballot box? Either way, the December aftermath will be critical, for Tanzania’s future, for its stability, and for its claim to being a beacon of democracy in East Africa.
