Beneath the soil of Tanzania runs a quiet revolution: cables of glass thinner than a strand of hair, carrying light across vast distances. The National ICT Backbone (NICTBB), a network of fibre-optic cables connecting Dar es Salaam to Dodoma, Arusha, Mwanza, Kigoma, Mtwara and beyond, is often described as an infrastructure project. But it is far more.
On the surface, the backbone is about cheaper internet, modern communication, and economic competitiveness. But beneath, it is about power, who holds it, who shares it, and who demands it. Connectivity fundamentally alters the nature of politics. Where once citizens were passive wananchi, waiting for state announcements or party meetings, fibre-optics and smartphones have turned them into raia capable of seeking information, questioning authority, and mobilizing for accountability.
As one observation puts it: “Raia wa kidigitali hawangoji taarifa; wanazitafuta.” Digital citizens don’t wait for information; they seek it.
The ICT Backbone, Tanzania’s Digital Leap
The story of Tanzania’s ICT revolution begins with deliberate investment. The NICTBB was designed to connect the country through over 7,500 kilometres of fibre-optic cable, extending from the Indian Ocean to landlocked neighbours. It promised not only domestic connectivity but also regional leadership, Tanzania as a digital hub for East and Central Africa.
The results are visible. Internet costs have dropped dramatically since the backbone became operational. Schools, universities, and hospitals are increasingly connected. Government ministries deliver more services online. Mobile penetration has skyrocketed, with over 50 million SIM card subscriptions, smartphones have become the most common window to the digital world.
For businesses, this has meant access to markets and services. For young people, it has meant opportunities for learning and work. But for politics, it has meant something far more profound: the infrastructure for a new kind of citizenship.
In the analogue era, information was scarce. The state controlled newspapers, radios, and announcements. Citizens were receivers, not seekers. In the digital era, the pipeline of information has been democratized. Fibre-optic cables carry not only data but also dignity, the capacity for citizens to know, to question, to demand.
The ICT backbone is not only steel and glass; it is the hidden scaffolding of a democratic future.
Information as Power, From Wananchi to Raia
Information has always been power. The difference between subjects and citizens lies in whether they wait for it or pursue it. The digital age has tipped that balance.
A mwananchi waits for a government announcement about a budget; a raia downloads the budget document online and reads it. A mwananchi hears political slogans at rallies; a raia livestreams parliamentary debates and fact-checks them in real time. A mwananchi listens passively to radio reports; a raia posts videos, shares grievances, organizes campaigns, and petitions government offices via WhatsApp.
The shift is not theoretical. It is lived every day. Young Tanzanians in Dar, Arusha, Dodoma, and Mwanza use Twitter, Facebook, and TikTok to debate governance. Hashtags trend as citizens question corruption scandals, demand transparency, or celebrate victories. WhatsApp groups become forums for monitoring election results or organizing community projects.
This transformation is reshaping the relationship between state and people. Leaders who once monopolized information must now contend with citizens who verify, challenge, and disseminate their own narratives. The state’s monopoly over knowledge has been broken.
Digital literacy therefore creates political literacy. Citizens who can search, post, and connect are harder to pacify with slogans. They see themselves not as passive recipients of information but as active participants in shaping it. This is the essence of raia.
As one reflection reminds us: “Raia wanajengwa kwa elimu na taarifa.” Citizens are built through education and information. In the digital era, fibre-optics deliver both.
The Risks of Digital Dependency
Yet the digital revolution carries dangers alongside opportunities. Connectivity can empower, but it can also entrap.
Misinformation is one of the greatest risks. The same tools that allow citizens to fact-check leaders also allow propaganda to spread at unprecedented speed. Fake news, doctored videos, and conspiracy theories can undermine trust, polarize communities, and destabilize politics. Without strong media literacy, raia can be misled, turning digital empowerment into digital manipulation.
Digital exclusion is another danger. Rural areas, the elderly, and marginalized groups may remain disconnected. Women, in particular, face barriers of cost, culture, and access. If the digital divide persists, citizenship will become stratified: urban, young, connected raia on one side, and rural, poor, disconnected wananchi on the other. This risks deepening inequality not only economically but politically.
Surveillance presents a third risk. Governments can use digital tools not only to deliver services but also to monitor citizens. In some countries, digital platforms have become instruments of repression, tracking dissent, censoring speech, and punishing opposition. The danger for Tanzania is that instead of producing empowered raia, the digital revolution produces monitored wananchi.
These risks highlight a central truth: technology is not neutral. It reflects the politics in which it is embedded. Fibre-optic cables can carry democracy, but they can also carry authoritarianism. The difference lies in whether Tanzania builds safeguards, protections for privacy, access for the marginalized, and civic education to equip citizens against misinformation.
The digital backbone is a double-edged sword. It can liberate or it can control. The choice is whether it nurtures raia or entrenches wananchi.
Global Lessons, India, Kenya, Estonia
The world offers a variety of digital experiments, some liberating, some cautionary, that Tanzania can learn from.
India created the Aadhaar system, the world’s largest digital ID program, covering over a billion people. Aadhaar simplified access to services and reduced corruption in welfare distribution. But it also created new risks of exclusion and surveillance. Citizens without Aadhaar faced difficulties accessing basic rights, while critics warned of data being used for political targeting. India demonstrates that digital systems can improve service delivery, but without strong protections they can also weaken citizenship by turning rights into privileges dependent on registration.
Kenya pioneered M-Pesa, a mobile money service that transformed financial inclusion. Millions who had no access to banks could now save, transfer, and transact. This digital leap empowered citizens economically and socially. Yet during elections, Kenya also witnessed how the same digital platforms became tools of political manipulation, with misinformation and targeted disinformation campaigns shaping votes. Kenya shows that digital inclusion can expand citizenship, but only if paired with digital literacy and safeguards against abuse.
Estonia offers the most striking contrast. A small European nation, it built e-citizenship into its very identity. Estonians vote online, access transparent budgets, and use digital platforms to shape policies. Crucially, Estonia embedded transparency and accountability into its digital backbone. Technology there did not just serve efficiency, it served democracy. Citizens are not only connected; they are empowered.
The lessons are clear. India warns of surveillance. Kenya warns of manipulation. Estonia inspires with empowerment. Tanzania must decide which path its digital revolution will take.
Towards Digital Citizenship in Tanzania
For Tanzania, the digital backbone is already reshaping society. But will it produce empowered raia or monitored wananchi? The answer depends on deliberate choices made now.
1. Civic education must be digital. Just as schools teach reading and writing, they must now teach digital literacy, not only how to use smartphones, but how to use them for democracy. Citizens should learn how to read budgets online, verify information, and hold leaders accountable through digital tools. Without this, technology will serve entertainment more than empowerment.
2. Open data must be institutionalized. Government budgets, contracts, and service records should be publicly accessible online in user-friendly formats. A citizen who can see where money flows is less likely to be pacified by slogans. Transparency is the software of democracy; without it, fibre-optics are just cables.
3. Protect citizens from surveillance. Laws must safeguard privacy and prevent abuse of digital platforms for political repression. Citizens will not act as raia if they fear that every post is monitored. Trust in digital systems is as vital as the systems themselves.
4. Bridge the digital divide. Connectivity must reach rural areas, women, the poor, and marginalized groups. If only urban elites are digitally literate, democracy will stratify. The promise of digital citizenship is equality of access; exclusion corrodes it.
5. Build civic platforms, not just commercial ones. Social media is powerful, but civic-specific platforms, for consultations, feedback, and participatory budgeting, can make digital citizenship concrete. If citizens can propose, debate, and vote on local issues online, they become participants, not spectators.
Digital Tanzania must not be about faster internet alone. It must be about deeper democracy.
The Civic Horizon, Smartphones as Parliaments
Look at any bus in Dar es Salaam, and you will see dozens of glowing screens. Smartphones have become as common as bicycles once were. They are not only tools of communication; they are the new parliaments of the people.
Every WhatsApp group is a town hall. Every hashtag is a petition. Every viral video is an act of oversight. Citizens record police abuse, expose corruption, and debate budgets in real time. The digital sphere has already become the civic sphere.
But for this horizon to be democratic, it must be structured. Informal debates can spark awareness, but formal platforms must absorb that energy into institutions. Otherwise, digital activism remains noise without influence. Tanzania’s challenge is to transform smartphones from megaphones into instruments of governance. That requires courage from leaders to listen, and persistence from citizens to demand.
The Rise of the Digital Raia
The National ICT Backbone is not only economic steel; it is democratic fibre. It has already shifted the terrain of Tanzanian politics, making obedience harder and accountability harder to avoid.
The risks are real: misinformation, exclusion, surveillance. But so are the opportunities: transparency, participation, empowerment. The difference lies in whether Tanzania treats connectivity as a market service or as a civic revolution.
As one reminder distills it: “Raia wa kidigitali hawangoji taarifa; wanazitafuta.” Digital citizens don’t wait for information; they seek it.
Tanzania’s democratic future may not be decided only in parliament halls or polling stations. It may be decided in the hands of millions of citizens with smartphones, fibre-optics, and the courage to act not as wananchi but as raia.
Poverty, Handouts, and the Price of Democracy
In Tanzanian politics, elections often resemble marketplaces. Votes are traded for rice, sugar, cooking oil, or a crisp banknote. Campaign trucks hand out free T-shirts, emblazoned with faces and slogans, turning citizens into walking billboards. Sometimes it is a kitenge for a mother, sometimes a drink for a youth, always small, immediate tokens. The ritual is so common that many accept it as normal: politics as a transaction, democracy as a bazaar.
But this normalization hides a deeper crisis. When poverty defines political choice, democracy itself is cheapened. A society of wananchi can be bought with kilos of sugar; a society of raia cannot. As one piercing line puts it: “Wananchi huuzwa kwa kilo ya sukari; raia hawawezi kununuliwa.” Subjects are sold for a kilo of sugar; citizens cannot be bought.
The question is whether Tanzania will remain a democracy of markets or become a republic of citizens.
Poverty as the Enemy of Citizenship
Poverty is not only an economic condition; it is a political condition. It traps people in survival mode, narrowing their horizon to the next meal, the next school fee, the next hospital bill. When survival is at stake, long-term accountability feels abstract. The politician who promises structural reforms is less persuasive than the one who hands out rice today.
This is why poverty sustains subjecthood. Wananchi living in deprivation become dependent on patrons. Their political decisions are shaped by immediate needs, not systemic visions. They are not irrational; they are pragmatic. A bag of maize flour in the moment of hunger matters more than constitutional promises of justice.
Citizenship, by contrast, requires dignity. A person whose basic needs are secure can afford to think about rights, laws, and accountability. They can demand services not as gifts but as obligations. Poverty is thus the enemy of uraia. It reduces politics to barter, weakening institutions and strengthening patronage.
Tanzania’s poverty statistics illustrate the problem. Despite progress, millions still live near or below the poverty line. For them, politics is not an arena of ideas but of transactions. Until poverty is addressed as a political issue, not just an economic one, democracy will remain vulnerable to being bought.
The Handout Economy, T-shirts, Rice, and Votes
The handout economy is not a metaphor. It is a lived reality during every election season.
Campaigns are choreographed markets. Politicians distribute sugar, rice, cooking oil, and fabric as tokens of generosity. Party cadres hand out T-shirts and caps, transforming rallies into seas of color. For many voters, these gifts are the most tangible benefits they will receive from politics.
This system is transactional to its core. Politicians see votes as purchasable goods. Voters see elections as opportunities to extract short-term benefits. Both sides understand the exchange: gifts today, loyalty tomorrow. The logic is commercial, not civic.
The consequences are corrosive. First, it erodes policy debate. Why discuss healthcare reforms or fiscal policy when rice bags secure more votes than manifestos? Second, it entrenches inequality. Wealthier candidates, or those with access to state resources, dominate because they can afford larger “investments” in voters. Third, it hollows out accountability. Leaders who buy loyalty during campaigns feel less pressure to deliver once in office.
The handout economy turns democracy into a market of consumption rather than a forum of citizenship. It reduces voters to customers and leaders to traders. As one biting observation reminds us: “Uchaguzi bila raia ni soko, siyo demokrasia.” An election without citizens is a market, not a democracy.
Dependency and Paternalism, The Wananchi Logic
The handout economy thrives because it fits neatly into a paternalistic political culture. In this logic, leaders are patrons and people are dependents. Citizens are treated not as co-owners of the state but as clients of the leader’s generosity.
This is the wananchi logic. Wananchi wait for gifts: a bag of rice, a well dug by an MP, a clinic built through “donations.” They measure leaders not by laws passed or budgets debated but by personal generosity. Leaders, in turn, cultivate loyalty by distributing favors.
By contrast, the raia logic is radically different. Raia demand policies, not gifts. They insist on systems that endure beyond personalities. They expect leaders to govern with transparency, not paternalism. But this logic requires economic independence. It requires citizens who can survive without depending on handouts.
Tanzania’s political culture today oscillates between these two logics. The persistence of handouts reveals how deeply paternalism still shapes politics. Leaders still speak of wananchi wangu, “my people”, not raia wangu, citizens with rights. Voters still expect gifts as tokens of recognition.
The tragedy is that this dependency undermines democracy itself. So long as people remain wananchi, politics remains a market of favors. Only when they become raia does politics transform into a republic of accountability.
Breaking the Cycle, Empowerment as Citizenship
Handout politics thrives where poverty rules. To dismantle it, the answer is not simply to outlaw giveaways but to build economic independence.
A voter who depends on a handout to feed their family is trapped in dependency. But a voter with a stable income, access to credit, or social safety nets has dignity. They cannot be cheaply bought. They demand policies that secure their future rather than gifts that fill their stomachs for a day.
Economic empowerment programs, microfinance, cooperatives, vocational training, help citizens lift themselves out of dependency. Social protection programs, if framed as rights rather than charity, protect the vulnerable without reducing them to clients. When benefits are entitlements embedded in law, they strengthen citizenship instead of weakening it.
The key is to link economic empowerment to taxation. When citizens both contribute (through taxes) and benefit (through transparent services), they see themselves as raia. Their relationship with the state becomes reciprocal, not paternalistic. Leaders become accountable, not just generous.
This is the great paradox: the more economically independent people are, the more politically dependent leaders become on them. That is how democracy grows.
Global Lessons, Latin America and Africa
Around the world, societies have grappled with the corrosive effects of handout politics, and some have found ways to turn dependency into citizenship.
In Latin America, clientelism long undermined democracy. Politicians distributed food, vouchers, or short-term jobs in exchange for loyalty. But reforms such as Brazil’s Bolsa Família reimagined social welfare. Instead of gifts from leaders, conditional cash transfers became rights guaranteed by the state. Millions received support tied to education and health obligations, empowering families while reinforcing accountability. Citizens came to see benefits not as favors to repay but as rights to protect, a civic shift from wananchi logic to raia logic.
In Ghana and Kenya, handout politics remains entrenched. Campaign rallies often resemble bazaars of rice, alcohol, and cash. But civil society initiatives in both countries are working to expose and criminalize vote-buying. NGOs run campaigns to remind voters that a bag of rice costs five years of accountability. Slowly, awareness is growing.
Botswana again provides contrast. Its welfare programs, free primary education, health services, were framed as entitlements of citizenship funded by national wealth. Citizens grew up expecting services as their right, not as leaders’ generosity. This framing strengthened democratic accountability and made handout politics less potent.
The global lesson is clear: handouts thrive in the absence of rights. When benefits are institutionalized as entitlements, leaders lose the ability to buy votes cheaply. Citizens then become guardians of systems, not clients of patrons.
Tanzania’s Path, From Market to Republic
For Tanzania, breaking the cycle requires both courage and vision. Three steps stand out:
- Redefine Social Protection. Cash transfers, food programs, and health subsidies should be codified as rights, not campaign gifts. Citizens must know they are entitled to these services by law, regardless of political loyalty.
- Criminalize and Enforce Against Vote-Buying. Laws already exist, but enforcement is weak. Parties must be held accountable when they distribute handouts. Voter education campaigns should emphasize that accepting gifts undermines one’s own rights.
- Civic Education as Empowerment. Schools, communities, and media must reinforce the message that true empowerment comes from demanding policies, not accepting sugar. Democracy must be reframed not as a market but as a republic of accountability.
If Tanzania succeeds, elections will shift from marketplaces of consumption to arenas of debate. Leaders will compete not on the size of their handouts but on the strength of their policies. Citizens will stop being clients and start being custodians.
Punchline, The Price of Democracy
A democracy built on poverty is fragile. It is too easy to buy, too cheap to sustain. Poverty makes obedience affordable; dignity makes accountability expensive.
As one reminder puts it: “Wananchi huuzwa; raia huongoza.” Subjects are sold; citizens lead.
The handout economy is not just an economic problem; it is a democratic problem. To build a republic of raia, Tanzania must confront poverty not only to improve livelihoods but to strengthen citizenship. Only then will democracy cease to be a market of sugar and become a republic of accountability.
