The story spinning was in full force. The protesters were “criminals” and “a small group.” They were “unpatriotic.” They were “foreign nationals” sent to incite violence. As a family of the Tanzanian diaspora living in the U.S., we were shocked to hear these news reports coming from our other home country.

On Wednesday, Oct. 29, the people of Tanzania went to the polls for a presidential election. Since independence in the 1960s, Tanzania has been long lauded for its peacefulness and stability. Its largest city, Dar es Salaam, lived up to its name, “haven of peace.” But the days of peace are gone. Before noon, election day had devolved into protest, chaos, and for the first time in the country’s history, widespread bloodshed. How did it come to this?

Samia Suluhu Hassan, chairperson of CCM (Chama cha Mapinduzi, Party of the Revolution), was elected as vice president in 2015 and 2020 alongside then-President John Magufuli and rose to the presidency after Magufuli’s untimely death in 2021. When Hassan first assumed office, citizens and international observers alike were hopeful as she redacted some of the harsher policies of her predecessor and promoted freedom of speech and of the press. She presented herself as a democratic reformer. I bought my own daughters a bedtime story book about Tanzania’s first female president. It is hard to believe that was only four short years ago.

Samia Saluhu Hassan is now the newest face of authoritarianism in Africa. Promises made during the early days of her time in office slowly faded without being realized. Over time, the crackdowns on free press and free speech grew even stronger. The two likely opponents to Hassan were removed from the electoral race. In April of this year, Tundu Lissu, of CHADEMA, the party for democracy and progress, was jailed on accusations of treason. In August, Luhaga Mpina of the ACT-Wazalendo (the Alliance for Change and Transparency) party was disqualified for dubious bureaucratic reasons.

In the months leading up to the 2025 election, I followed the Facebook pages of my dear friends in Tanzania. I followed their posts the same way I would follow my American friends’ posts. I might read, like or comment, but it never occurred to me that they might be risking their lives to voice their opinions. We live in two democratic nations, right?

On election day, protests began in earnest early in the morning, and polling stations and ultimately other government offices were vandalized and burned to the ground. Within hours, the military was called to the streets, a curfew was imposed, and before long, the Tanzanian government shut down Internet communications across the country. We were limited to the videos of the initial protests sent before the Internet had cut out. So, we turned to our regular news sources and found no information. No coverage at all. No way to know how our loved ones were faring. This purgatory lasted for five days.

Meanwhile, on Nov. 1, Hassan was announced as the winner of the election, with a whopping 98% landslide victory. Another 48 hours after that, she was sworn in inside a military barracks with no members of the public present, contrary to previous ceremonies, which have been held in public stadiums. Only then were the Internet ban and curfew lifted. It was many days before we heard from our friends and family members, before we learned who was safe, who was still unaccounted for and who was confirmed dead.

It’s an age-old approach that still works today: control the people by force and control the narrative by whatever means necessary. The same old story given new life in yet another country. For now, we are trying to square the reported U.N. death count (10) with the photos and videos that flooded into our personal devices once the Internet ban lifted — countless images of bodies piled up, the blood still wet, the country’s flags used as impromptu shrouds. Sticking out from the piles, limbs and faces refusing to be hidden.

Tanzania’s 63rd Independence Day was held on Dec. 9. The government cancelled public celebrations for fear of more protests, for fear of what they would have to do to keep control. Tanzania will never be the same. As we watch from afar, we are humbled by the bravery of the Tanzanians, mostly young, fighting for their country.

We are proud of our people for standing up. Yet we are fearful of continued bloodshed.

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Noel Carmichael is a resident of Lake Placid.