Today, 7th May 2025, the European Parliament sits with a grave task before it: to reckon with the spiraling repression in Tanzania a country once hailed for stability, now teetering under the weight of state-sanctioned political persecution.
At the heart of this reckoning is a searing letter from Amsterdam & Partners LLP, a prominent international law firm, dated 06 May 2025.
The document pulls no punches. It lays out a disturbing pattern of human rights violations under President Samia Suluhu Hassan's administration violations that, taken together, portray a regime rapidly losing legitimacy.
The implications are stark. This isn’t merely about one opposition leader’s arrest, though Tundu Lissu’s case is as alarming as it gets.
It’s about a broader, coordinated campaign to muzzle dissent, erase political opposition, and stifle every form of civic resistance.
What Amsterdam & Partners LLP describes is a full-spectrum assault on democratic values. Lissu’s arrest under a treason statute that carries the death penalty has triggered widespread international concern. But in Tanzania, it's business as usual. The silence from the top has become its brutal endorsement.
This isn’t just some abstract conversation about repression it’s happening in real time, in people’s homes, to people with names.
On the night of May 2nd, at around 8:00 PM, Said Nyagali Mpaluko, a bold political commentator known for pulling back the curtain on government abuses, became the latest target.
Armed men believed by many to be police forced their way into his home in Mbeya. They didn’t knock. They didn’t ask questions.
They beat him savagely in front of his terrified family, then dragged him out, leaving behind only silence, screams, and a pool of blood. Since that night, he hasn’t been seen. Not by his wife. Not by his children. Not by the public who once relied on his voice.
According to multiple eyewitnesses, two of the abductors were identified as law enforcers named Shabani and Vedastus.
Yet, in a stunning twist of denial, the Mbeya Regional Police Commander claimed no officers were involved.
Mpaluko has not been seen since. His wife and children wait in limbo, gripped by fear, abandoned by the very institutions meant to protect them.
Then there’s Father Charles Kitima, still the Secretary General of the Tanzania Episcopal Conference. His only “crime”? Preaching truth. Kitima’s sermons calling out extrajudicial killings and the erosion of constitutional rights struck a nerve.
Since then, he’s faced an insidious wave of harassment. State forces raided his residence, discredited his name in state-friendly media, and made him a target for those who see moral clarity as a threat.
Today, he is receiving treatment at Aga Khan Hospital, recovering from what his allies say was a politically motivated attack. And still, he refuses to be silent.
These stories aren’t outliers they are snapshots of a deeper crisis. The letter from Amsterdam & Partners underscores how deeply entrenched this machinery of repression has become.
Chadema leaders like John Heche and John Mnyika were arrested just for showing up at a courthouse. Dozens of others have been beaten, detained without charges, and kept from legal representation. Even religious leaders and human rights lawyers are no longer safe from retaliation.
And we cannot forget the tragic fate of Ali Kibao, a Chadema youth mobilizer, whose death remains shrouded in unanswered questions. Witnesses speak of state involvement. Authorities speak in vague denials. Justice, as always in these cases, is nowhere to be found.
To the international community, especially the European Parliament deliberating today, this letter is more than documentation. It's a plea. A warning. A window into the slow-motion collapse of civil society in Tanzania.
The Amsterdam & Partners LLP letter does what domestic voices cannot: it speaks freely, boldly, and without fear of reprisal. It paints a picture not of a rogue government, but of a calculated, deliberate descent into authoritarianism.
President Samia Suluhu Hassan once inspired cautious optimism. But beneath the polished diplomatic statements and carefully curated international image lies a brutal truth: Tanzania is rapidly becoming a country where disagreement is criminalized, truth is punished, and silence is the only guarantee of safety.
What happens today in Brussels could help turn the tide. The world is watching not just the Tanzanian diaspora and rights groups, but citizens across the continent who wonder if international principles still mean something.
If the European Parliament fails to act with courage, then it sends a dangerous message: that impunity still pays, that democracy is negotiable, and that voices like Mpaluko’s, Kitima’s, and Lissu’s can be erased without consequence.
But if Europe listens truly listens and takes concrete, punitive action, it could shift the balance. Not just for Tanzania, but for every country where repression thrives in the shadows of international indifference. The time to speak is now. For those who can no longer.
