Senior Kenyan counsel Martha Karua was detained in Tanzania as she arrived to attend the court proceedings in Tundu Lissu’s treason case. Photo: Courtesy.
By Adonis Byemelwa
Some moments reveal more than they intend to—moments that pull back the curtain and show us the quiet erosion of values we once held dear. What happened at Julius Nyerere Airport recently wasn’t merely a breach of protocol. It was a stark, human moment that laid bare the fragile state of our regional integrity.
A group of East Africans—men and women who have spent years speaking truth to power—were detained and deported merely for appearing. Not to protest, not to disrupt, but to witness.
“These weren’t criminals. They were patriots. People who’ve spent their lives fighting for justice were treated like threats just for showing up to watch a trial.” — Maraga ’27 Presidential Campaign Secretariat
Among them were former Chief Justice Willy Mutunga, senior counsel Martha Karua, and rights defenders like Boniface Mwangi, Hanifa Farsafi, and Hussein Khalid. Their crime? Solidarity. They had travelled to Dar-es-Salaam to observe the trial of Tanzanian opposition leader Tundu Lissu—a proceeding that demands openness and transparency by its very nature. That simple, principled act was met not with respect, but with hostility.
Instead of being welcomed as fellow East Africans, they were treated as threats. Detained. Questioned. Then sent home like smugglers of subversion. For merely showing up.
Moments like this make it painfully clear that democracy in our region is not just under strain—it’s being strategically dismantled. Across East Africa, we’re watching civic space shrink and fear take the place of freedom. This isn’t about just one airport or one trial. This is about what kind of region we’re becoming.
For years, the East African Community has held itself up as a model of integration—open borders, shared markets, cooperation. But how meaningful is that unity if a Kenyan can’t stand in a Tanzanian courtroom, quietly watching justice unfold? If observing a legal process is enough to get you deported, then what’s left of our shared vision?
As one of the statement’s signatories put it, “This is a test of the EAC’s soul. If our borders are open for trade but closed for truth, what kind of union have we built?” That’s not just rhetoric—it’s a mirror. A mirror that shows us how fragile this regional bond has become.
For those who were detained, the experience was more than just an inconvenience. It was a moment of betrayal. These are people who have stood up to tyranny in their own countries, often at great personal risk.
They didn’t go to Tanzania looking for a fight. They went because they believed in something larger than borders—justice, fairness, accountability. Their treatment was a cruel reminder that ideals don’t always travel well.
And that’s what stings. Tanzania, of all places, should know better. This is the land of Mwalimu Nyerere—the man who offered sanctuary to liberation fighters across the continent. A country that once stood boldly for Pan-African values, that once gave hope and home to those fleeing persecution, is now turning away peaceful East Africans at the airport gate.
It hurts to see a country with such a proud legacy act in a way that undermines everything it used to represent. The contradiction is jarring—and deeply disappointing.
But disappointment is not enough. Silence would be even worse. This is a moment that demands clarity and courage. We’re at a crossroads. If we let this go unchallenged, if we accept arbitrary detentions and quiet deportations as “normal,” then we’ve surrendered far more than a border crossing—we’ve surrendered the dream of a united, just, and democratic East Africa.
The Maraga ’27 Campaign stands with those who were targeted and mistreated. We stand with all those who believe in the dignity of standing up, even when it’s inconvenient, even when it’s risky. Because in the end, the people who were detained weren’t just individuals—they were symbols of what we’re still fighting for.
“This is not just about justice denied. It’s about who we are becoming, and whether we’ll recognize ourselves in the mirror a few years from now. We can’t afford to look away. Not now. Not ever,” reads the statement.