I write this not with the cool, detached analysis of a political commentator, but with the burning, visceral disappointment of a son watching his mother being betrayed. The soil of Tanzania is my inheritance, a land of immense beauty, resilience, and potential. But today, that potential is being suffocated by a political farce where the lines between the barracks and the ballot box have been grotesquely erased.

For too long, we have operated under a certain social contract. Politicians, with all their flaws and promises, are the contenders in the arena of public opinion. They debate, they campaign, they (are supposed to) serve. The military, however, has always occupied a different space in the national psyche. They are the institution of last resort, the embodiment of disciplined force, the guardians who stand apart from the political fray. Or so we were meant to believe.

That myth has now been shattered, and its breaking is a naked shame.

What we are witnessing is not a military acting as a neutral arbiter or a protector of the state. We are seeing an institution that has proven itself to be a political contender, a pawn in the chess game of power. The uniform, which should symbolize national unity, has been stained with the grime of partisan politics. When the armed forces begin to pick sides, to intimidate, to influence the political process, they cease to be a military and become a militia for the powerful.

This brings me to the most profound betrayal: the spectacle of it all.

To see leaders step down from their positions is not enough. It is a political calculation, often a move to save face or secure a future. It is not atonement.

But to see members of the military take to social media, to publicly wring their hands and claim they are “in pain” over the state of the nation? This is a farce of the highest order. Since when does a soldier complain on Facebook? A military man, a military woman, is forged in discipline and action. When a nation is in crisis, a soldier does not post a tearful video. They do not write a cryptic tweet. They act. They take charge. They go into the riot or they go into the bush, but they do not whimper from the sidelines.

This public display of “pain” is the most damning evidence of their complicity. It reveals an institution that is not in control, but is itself being controlled. It shows a military that has been reduced to puppetry, its strings pulled by a few individuals orchestrating the stupidity that is crippling our country. They are not the strong, silent guardians; they are actors on a stage, reading from a script written by their masters. This performance is an insult to the intelligence of every Tanzanian.

It leads one to wonder, in the darkest corners of the mind, why some architects of this national decay are still walking freely, still breathing the air they have poisoned. It is a testament to the almost supernatural patience and peacefulness of the Tanzanian people, a patience that is mistaken for weakness by those in power.

At this point, I have no faith in the military. Their credibility lies in tatters. They have failed the ultimate test: to remain a pillar for the state, not a prop for a regime.

So, where does that leave us?

It leaves us with the only thing that has ever truly mattered: the people. The farmers in the fields, the mothers in the markets, the students in the classrooms, the entrepreneurs in the cities. The power to save Tanzania does not lie in the barracks of the compromised, nor in the halls of the compromised politicians. It lies in the will of the people.

Our salvation will come from our collective refusal to accept this charade. It will come from our organized dissent, our unwavering demand for accountability, and our relentless pursuit of justice. We must recognize that we are the true guardians of this nation. The soil is ours. The future is ours to reclaim.

The military has shown its hand, and it is a losing one. The people must now show theirs. Our strength, our unity, and our unwavering demand for a nation that works for all, not a few, is the only force powerful enough to end this naked shame.

Yours in the struggle for a true Africa.