This account was sent to me by a member of the international Tanzania election monitoring team. They want to remain anonymous, but they are a credible, reliable witness to Tanzania's election period.
' I was in Tanzania from late last week to 31st October. I was one of a group of election observers who were evacuated from Dodoma on the afternoon of the 30th. We ended up at Dar es Salaam International airport and we finally flew out to our various destinations over the course of the following day after a night on airport chairs. There were quite a few of us from different organisations.
The first three days in Dodoma were surreal. Except for the biggest election posters on lamp posts I had ever seen (of President Samia Sululu Hassan), there was absolutely no evidence of an impending election. The streets were quiet, strangely quiet. Except by the public officers we met, the word 'elections' was not once mentioned. Not by shopkeepers, restaurant waiters or by our driver. Saying the word out loud was met with furtive looks around and silence. There was no obvious excitement. No obvious anger. Just a strange quiet. The day before the elections, when political parties and candidates would ordinarily put up their last campaigns. was no different.
We met officials who briefed us on the election process. asked about the lack of activity on the streets, they said that most parties had done all the campaigning they felt they needed. If we had come a month before, we were informed, we would have witnessed a different campaign environment. But, on the whole, Tanzanians are not noisy people when it comes to elections. They took elections seriously. They are peaceful people, we were told.
We had been promised that we would observe ballots being counted but on the day of the polls, when we got to the polling station, we were told that counting was not taking place at polling stations, but at a centre. It wasn't clear how the ballot boxes were going to be transported to the centre, as there was no vehicle in sight. We observed that even though the polling had closed, none of the more than 5 sets of boxes had been sealed. It seemed to me that we were being hurried out of that particular polling station.
Sealed! When sealing did happen as we watched, it was with cable ties. I observed only one colour of cable ties.
What was obvious was that the authorities could not possibly have expected violence. It turned out that they had a plan to limit crowds at polling stations and in the streets; a plan that was not at first immediately visible. The plan involved capping the number of voters at any one station, the imposition of a curfew, the prohibition of lingering in the streets after voting and a communication blackout.
The polling stations we visited were in tents or within unfenced buildings. In many cases the boxes were either on the ground or on rickety tables. There were security officers in attendance but not nearly enough in number to be a real deterrent had a group of, say, 50 protestors decided to charge the polling station.
There were many polling stations, some within shouting distance of each other. We were informed that the cap for each station was 400 voters and indeed many reported to have less than that number. The result was that of the 8 or so stations we visited, (and one station had 9 booths and many had between 3 and 5) the longest line we observed was of less than 15 voters waiting to cast their votes. There were stations where we observed no voters at all. Just officials with piles of folded ballots waiting for the occasional voter to stroll in.
Unbeknownst to us, a curfew was in place from 6pm on the night before the polls. That explains why we were suddenly not allowed to attend the start of counting. Also we would later learn that lingering in the streets was not allowed.
On the morning of the 29th October, the days of the polls, we woke up to an internet blackout. In addition there was a news blackout. Then planned events were cancelled. we would not be going to observe the tallying of votes, we were told. The train to Dar es Salaam was cancelled, we were informed. Little else was said.
Without access to the internet and consequently without Whatsapp for communication we were totally oblivious to the protests raging around our hotel.
One of us observers received a text from his home country. "Tanzania is burning" the message said. The truth could no longer be hidden.
The only way out of Dodoma was by air. By the time we reached Dodoma Airport it seemed like all the observers in town had reached the same decision at exactly the same time. Destination Dar es Salaam Airport.
Once at Dar es Salaam Airport, we watched the information monitors as one flight after another was cancelled. With still no internet service or television news, we had little information about what was really happening around us. The wall must have collapsed briefly because one of us received a few texts and a video that wouldn't open; the message said the airport was surrounded by protestors but the blackout resumed and we didn't learn anymore.
We settled for the night not knowing much about the status of the elections we had come to observe in Tanzania.
We watched television as BBC reported, repeatedly, on Prince Andrew and his loss of titles and a lodge. I guess the TV was on a loop or something. A message came on to assure the diplomatic community that everything was under control. A man in military uniform came on and spoke in Kiswahili. Still, on the whole, not much was revealed about the situation on the streets. There were certainly no pictures of the streets.
As the morning broke, some lucky ones started to fly out. By late afternoon, most of us were out of Tanzania.
It wasn't until I landed on my first leg home that I finally watched the news and learnt that Dar es Salaam Airport had been overrun by protestors.
Oh, with 17 presidential candidates to select from, it sure must have helped that the long ballot paper had pictures of the candidates and if one's choice was President Samia, it helped that she was first on the long list.'
This account was sent to me by a member of the international Tanzania election monitoring team. They want to remain anonymous, but they are a credible, reliable witness to Tanzania's election period.
' I was in Tanzania from late last week to 31st October. I was one of a group of election observers who were evacuated from Dodoma on the afternoon of the 30th. We ended up at Dar es Salaam International airport and we finally flew out to our various destinations over the course of the following day after a night on airport chairs. There were quite a few of us from different organisations.
The first three days in Dodoma were surreal. Except for the biggest election posters on lamp posts I had ever seen (of President Samia Sululu Hassan), there was absolutely no evidence of an impending election. The streets were quiet, strangely quiet. Except by the public officers we met, the word 'elections' was not once mentioned. Not by shopkeepers, restaurant waiters or by our driver. Saying the word out loud was met with furtive looks around and silence. There was no obvious excitement. No obvious anger. Just a strange quiet. The day before the elections, when political parties and candidates would ordinarily put up their last campaigns. was no different.
We met officials who briefed us on the election process. asked about the lack of activity on the streets, they said that most parties had done all the campaigning they felt they needed. If we had come a month before, we were informed, we would have witnessed a different campaign environment. But, on the whole, Tanzanians are not noisy people when it comes to elections. They took elections seriously. They are peaceful people, we were told.
We had been promised that we would observe ballots being counted but on the day of the polls, when we got to the polling station, we were told that counting was not taking place at polling stations, but at a centre. It wasn't clear how the ballot boxes were going to be transported to the centre, as there was no vehicle in sight. We observed that even though the polling had closed, none of the more than 5 sets of boxes had been sealed. It seemed to me that we were being hurried out of that particular polling station.
Sealed! When sealing did happen as we watched, it was with cable ties. I observed only one colour of cable ties.
What was obvious was that the authorities could not possibly have expected violence. It turned out that they had a plan to limit crowds at polling stations and in the streets; a plan that was not at first immediately visible. The plan involved capping the number of voters at any one station, the imposition of a curfew, the prohibition of lingering in the streets after voting and a communication blackout.
The polling stations we visited were in tents or within unfenced buildings. In many cases the boxes were either on the ground or on rickety tables. There were security officers in attendance but not nearly enough in number to be a real deterrent had a group of, say, 50 protestors decided to charge the polling station.
There were many polling stations, some within shouting distance of each other. We were informed that the cap for each station was 400 voters and indeed many reported to have less than that number. The result was that of the 8 or so stations we visited, (and one station had 9 booths and many had between 3 and 5) the longest line we observed was of less than 15 voters waiting to cast their votes. There were stations where we observed no voters at all. Just officials with piles of folded ballots waiting for the occasional voter to stroll in.
Unbeknownst to us, a curfew was in place from 6pm on the night before the polls. That explains why we were suddenly not allowed to attend the start of counting. Also we would later learn that lingering in the streets was not allowed.
On the morning of the 29th October, the days of the polls, we woke up to an internet blackout. In addition there was a news blackout. Then planned events were cancelled. we would not be going to observe the tallying of votes, we were told. The train to Dar es Salaam was cancelled, we were informed. Little else was said.
Without access to the internet and consequently without Whatsapp for communication we were totally oblivious to the protests raging around our hotel.
One of us observers received a text from his home country. "Tanzania is burning" the message said. The truth could no longer be hidden.
The only way out of Dodoma was by air. By the time we reached Dodoma Airport it seemed like all the observers in town had reached the same decision at exactly the same time. Destination Dar es Salaam Airport.
Once at Dar es Salaam Airport, we watched the information monitors as one flight after another was cancelled. With still no internet service or television news, we had little information about what was really happening around us. The wall must have collapsed briefly because one of us received a few texts and a video that wouldn't open; the message said the airport was surrounded by protestors but the blackout resumed and we didn't learn anymore.
We settled for the night not knowing much about the status of the elections we had come to observe in Tanzania.
We watched television as BBC reported, repeatedly, on Prince Andrew and his loss of titles and a lodge. I guess the TV was on a loop or something. A message came on to assure the diplomatic community that everything was under control. A man in military uniform came on and spoke in Kiswahili. Still, on the whole, not much was revealed about the situation on the streets. There were certainly no pictures of the streets.
As the morning broke, some lucky ones started to fly out. By late afternoon, most of us were out of Tanzania.
It wasn't until I landed on my first leg home that I finally watched the news and learnt that Dar es Salaam Airport had been overrun by protestors.
Oh, with 17 presidential candidates to select from, it sure must have helped that the long ballot paper had pictures of the candidates and if one's choice was President Samia, it helped that she was first on the long list.'
This account was sent to me by a member of the international Tanzania election monitoring team. They want to remain anonymous, but they are a credible, reliable witness to Tanzania's election period.
' I was in Tanzania from late last week to 31st October. I was one of a group of election observers who were evacuated from Dodoma on the afternoon of the 30th. We ended up at Dar es Salaam International airport and we finally flew out to our various destinations over the course of the following day after a night on airport chairs. There were quite a few of us from different organisations.
The first three days in Dodoma were surreal. Except for the biggest election posters on lamp posts I had ever seen (of President Samia Sululu Hassan), there was absolutely no evidence of an impending election. The streets were quiet, strangely quiet. Except by the public officers we met, the word 'elections' was not once mentioned. Not by shopkeepers, restaurant waiters or by our driver. Saying the word out loud was met with furtive looks around and silence. There was no obvious excitement. No obvious anger. Just a strange quiet. The day before the elections, when political parties and candidates would ordinarily put up their last campaigns. was no different.
We met officials who briefed us on the election process. asked about the lack of activity on the streets, they said that most parties had done all the campaigning they felt they needed. If we had come a month before, we were informed, we would have witnessed a different campaign environment. But, on the whole, Tanzanians are not noisy people when it comes to elections. They took elections seriously. They are peaceful people, we were told.
We had been promised that we would observe ballots being counted but on the day of the polls, when we got to the polling station, we were told that counting was not taking place at polling stations, but at a centre. It wasn't clear how the ballot boxes were going to be transported to the centre, as there was no vehicle in sight. We observed that even though the polling had closed, none of the more than 5 sets of boxes had been sealed. It seemed to me that we were being hurried out of that particular polling station.
Sealed! When sealing did happen as we watched, it was with cable ties. I observed only one colour of cable ties.
What was obvious was that the authorities could not possibly have expected violence. It turned out that they had a plan to limit crowds at polling stations and in the streets; a plan that was not at first immediately visible. The plan involved capping the number of voters at any one station, the imposition of a curfew, the prohibition of lingering in the streets after voting and a communication blackout.
The polling stations we visited were in tents or within unfenced buildings. In many cases the boxes were either on the ground or on rickety tables. There were security officers in attendance but not nearly enough in number to be a real deterrent had a group of, say, 50 protestors decided to charge the polling station.
There were many polling stations, some within shouting distance of each other. We were informed that the cap for each station was 400 voters and indeed many reported to have less than that number. The result was that of the 8 or so stations we visited, (and one station had 9 booths and many had between 3 and 5) the longest line we observed was of less than 15 voters waiting to cast their votes. There were stations where we observed no voters at all. Just officials with piles of folded ballots waiting for the occasional voter to stroll in.
Unbeknownst to us, a curfew was in place from 6pm on the night before the polls. That explains why we were suddenly not allowed to attend the start of counting. Also we would later learn that lingering in the streets was not allowed.
On the morning of the 29th October, the days of the polls, we woke up to an internet blackout. In addition there was a news blackout. Then planned events were cancelled. we would not be going to observe the tallying of votes, we were told. The train to Dar es Salaam was cancelled, we were informed. Little else was said.
Without access to the internet and consequently without Whatsapp for communication we were totally oblivious to the protests raging around our hotel.
One of us observers received a text from his home country. "Tanzania is burning" the message said. The truth could no longer be hidden.
The only way out of Dodoma was by air. By the time we reached Dodoma Airport it seemed like all the observers in town had reached the same decision at exactly the same time. Destination Dar es Salaam Airport.
Once at Dar es Salaam Airport, we watched the information monitors as one flight after another was cancelled. With still no internet service or television news, we had little information about what was really happening around us. The wall must have collapsed briefly because one of us received a few texts and a video that wouldn't open; the message said the airport was surrounded by protestors but the blackout resumed and we didn't learn anymore.
We settled for the night not knowing much about the status of the elections we had come to observe in Tanzania.
We watched television as BBC reported, repeatedly, on Prince Andrew and his loss of titles and a lodge. I guess the TV was on a loop or something. A message came on to assure the diplomatic community that everything was under control. A man in military uniform came on and spoke in Kiswahili. Still, on the whole, not much was revealed about the situation on the streets. There were certainly no pictures of the streets.
As the morning broke, some lucky ones started to fly out. By late afternoon, most of us were out of Tanzania.
It wasn't until I landed on my first leg home that I finally watched the news and learnt that Dar es Salaam Airport had been overrun by protestors.
Oh, with 17 presidential candidates to select from, it sure must have helped that the long ballot paper had pictures of the candidates and if one's choice was President Samia, it helped that she was first on the long list.'
This account was sent to me by a member of the international Tanzania election monitoring team. They want to remain anonymous, but they are a credible, reliable witness to Tanzania's election period.
' I was in Tanzania from late last week to 31st October. I was one of a group of election observers who were evacuated from Dodoma on the afternoon of the 30th. We ended up at Dar es Salaam International airport and we finally flew out to our various destinations over the course of the following day after a night on airport chairs. There were quite a few of us from different organisations.
The first three days in Dodoma were surreal. Except for the biggest election posters on lamp posts I had ever seen (of President Samia Sululu Hassan), there was absolutely no evidence of an impending election. The streets were quiet, strangely quiet. Except by the public officers we met, the word 'elections' was not once mentioned. Not by shopkeepers, restaurant waiters or by our driver. Saying the word out loud was met with furtive looks around and silence. There was no obvious excitement. No obvious anger. Just a strange quiet. The day before the elections, when political parties and candidates would ordinarily put up their last campaigns. was no different.
We met officials who briefed us on the election process. asked about the lack of activity on the streets, they said that most parties had done all the campaigning they felt they needed. If we had come a month before, we were informed, we would have witnessed a different campaign environment. But, on the whole, Tanzanians are not noisy people when it comes to elections. They took elections seriously. They are peaceful people, we were told.
We had been promised that we would observe ballots being counted but on the day of the polls, when we got to the polling station, we were told that counting was not taking place at polling stations, but at a centre. It wasn't clear how the ballot boxes were going to be transported to the centre, as there was no vehicle in sight. We observed that even though the polling had closed, none of the more than 5 sets of boxes had been sealed. It seemed to me that we were being hurried out of that particular polling station.
Sealed! When sealing did happen as we watched, it was with cable ties. I observed only one colour of cable ties.
What was obvious was that the authorities could not possibly have expected violence. It turned out that they had a plan to limit crowds at polling stations and in the streets; a plan that was not at first immediately visible. The plan involved capping the number of voters at any one station, the imposition of a curfew, the prohibition of lingering in the streets after voting and a communication blackout.
The polling stations we visited were in tents or within unfenced buildings. In many cases the boxes were either on the ground or on rickety tables. There were security officers in attendance but not nearly enough in number to be a real deterrent had a group of, say, 50 protestors decided to charge the polling station.
There were many polling stations, some within shouting distance of each other. We were informed that the cap for each station was 400 voters and indeed many reported to have less than that number. The result was that of the 8 or so stations we visited, (and one station had 9 booths and many had between 3 and 5) the longest line we observed was of less than 15 voters waiting to cast their votes. There were stations where we observed no voters at all. Just officials with piles of folded ballots waiting for the occasional voter to stroll in.
Unbeknownst to us, a curfew was in place from 6pm on the night before the polls. That explains why we were suddenly not allowed to attend the start of counting. Also we would later learn that lingering in the streets was not allowed.
On the morning of the 29th October, the days of the polls, we woke up to an internet blackout. In addition there was a news blackout. Then planned events were cancelled. we would not be going to observe the tallying of votes, we were told. The train to Dar es Salaam was cancelled, we were informed. Little else was said.
Without access to the internet and consequently without Whatsapp for communication we were totally oblivious to the protests raging around our hotel.
One of us observers received a text from his home country. "Tanzania is burning" the message said. The truth could no longer be hidden.
The only way out of Dodoma was by air. By the time we reached Dodoma Airport it seemed like all the observers in town had reached the same decision at exactly the same time. Destination Dar es Salaam Airport.
Once at Dar es Salaam Airport, we watched the information monitors as one flight after another was cancelled. With still no internet service or television news, we had little information about what was really happening around us. The wall must have collapsed briefly because one of us received a few texts and a video that wouldn't open; the message said the airport was surrounded by protestors but the blackout resumed and we didn't learn anymore.
We settled for the night not knowing much about the status of the elections we had come to observe in Tanzania.
We watched television as BBC reported, repeatedly, on Prince Andrew and his loss of titles and a lodge. I guess the TV was on a loop or something. A message came on to assure the diplomatic community that everything was under control. A man in military uniform came on and spoke in Kiswahili. Still, on the whole, not much was revealed about the situation on the streets. There were certainly no pictures of the streets.
As the morning broke, some lucky ones started to fly out. By late afternoon, most of us were out of Tanzania.
It wasn't until I landed on my first leg home that I finally watched the news and learnt that Dar es Salaam Airport had been overrun by protestors.
Oh, with 17 presidential candidates to select from, it sure must have helped that the long ballot paper had pictures of the candidates and if one's choice was President Samia, it helped that she was first on the long list.'
