Same Secondary School is among the oldest public schools in Tanzania. It has been owned by the Government of the United Republic of Tanzania since the colonial period. In those days it was a special school meant to receive young men who would later be employed as clerks on sisal plantations.
Originally, the school admitted many students from the regions of Kilimanjaro, Tanga, and even Arusha—at a time when Manyara was still part of Arusha Region.
Between 1991 and 1995, the school received several students from Tambaza Boys Secondary School (formerly H.H. Aga Khan Boys Secondary School) at different times. This was part of a government strategy to weaken Tambaza School because of the repeated incidents that occurred there. Whenever conflicts happened, students suspected of involvement were transferred and distributed to other public schools across the country. A large group was transferred between 1993 and 1994.
At that time Kilimanjaro Region had many private schools, but the same could not be said for Mwanga and Same districts, although a few private schools existed—most owned by religious institutions.
As far as the Mwanakwetu remembers, in Same Town there was no other secondary school, public or private, except Same Secondary School.
During this period the government introduced day-school programs in boarding schools so that nearby communities could have the opportunity to study there. In 1993 Same Secondary admitted Form One day students—but girls only. Remember that Same Secondary was originally a boys’ school from Form One to Form Six, and the Advanced Level students studied only two subject combinations: PCB and PCM.
While the boys wore khaki trousers and short-sleeved white shirts, the girls wore white shirts with bright red skirts.
At Same School the Mwanakwetu was very good at drama and comedy performances. These performances were often done by two students: the narrator and his friend Leonard Mgosi, who came from Lushoto.
At every major school event, the narrator would definitely perform. Sometimes he wrote the scripts himself, and sometimes Mgosi did.
The teachers later instructed them to include girls in the performances, since the school now had female students.
Two girls joined the school drama group: Siti and Doroth Mohammed.
Siti came from the Muslim community of Same Town, while Doroth came from the Lutheran community. At that time there was a major conflict within the Lutheran Church in that area.
There was also a girl from a very rural area near Masandare who had the nickname Fidodido.
“For those who were there at that time, you will remember that the Dare For More group had a puppet character with that name. The students at Same gave this girl the nickname because she was very tall and extremely slim.”
My reader, do you remember the nickname you were given at school?
The narrator got along very well with Doroth Mohammed. On Sundays, after attending Mass at the Catholic parish in the Diocese of Same, he would pass through the market and then visit Doroth’s home, where she lived with her maternal grandmother. They would talk for a while before he returned to school.
Later Doroth Mohammed suddenly dropped out of school, and no one knew what had happened. The narrator became lonely. If he passed through the market now, who would he visit when he himself was a stranger in Same Town?
“I loved Doroth Mohammed for several reasons. One of them was that Doroth is the name of my biological mother. So when I spoke with Doroth at Same, it felt as though I was speaking with my own mother. This was my secret, and today I reveal it to you, my reader. Please keep this secret and do not spread it everywhere.”
People believed that Doroth might have become pregnant and that her family secretly moved her away from Same.
Later the narrator saw her at Kinondoni Market in Dar es Salaam, near FM Studio, where her mother had a business stall.
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One unanswered question remained:Was Doroth hidden in Dar es Salaam with her mother after she became pregnant?Or was her grandmother in Same unable to take care of her, prompting her mother to take her to Dar es Salaam to help with business?
These questions were never answered.
Later Doroth worked at the New African Hotel. The narrator met her twice—once at her mother’s stall near FM Studio and another time at the hotel—but since then he has never seen her again.
Let us leave Doroth Mohammed with the secrets of her life, because everyone has their own story. Now let me take you back to Same Secondary and the boys from Tambaza.
Years passed, and in 1995 one of their colleagues became Assistant Head Prefect. The Tambaza boys were lively and outgoing, so the girls who attended the day program became quite friendly with them because they had that ‘city cleverness,’ just like the narrator and Doroth Mohammed.
At the end of May 1995 the end-of-term exams finished successfully. Around 8 p.m. that evening, a Tambaza student known as Lubua Mustapha—note the spelling, not Mustafa—together with about 60 others spoke with the girl nicknamed Fidodido. They told her there would be a wedding at their home that weekend and invited them to come enjoy the celebration.
They said they might not all manage to attend on Saturday but would try to come on Friday night since school had closed.
Lubua Mustapha’s father was a captain of long-distance oil tankers, so it is possible that Lubua himself may also have traveled far in life—if God has granted him life until today.
Fidodido agreed, and the message was passed to the Tambaza boys—but they forgot to inform the narrator.
When they were about to leave, they realized Makwega was missing. Some students, including Peter Mbezi, told Lubua to go fetch him.
Lubua found him already packed to travel home to Dar es Salaam the next day.When asked where the wedding was, they said it was in villages near Masandare.
The narrator hesitated. He reminded Lubua of the trouble they once faced in the office of the Dar es Salaam Regional Education Officer while waiting for disciplinary hearings.
“Lubua, we are far from home here. I don’t want trouble with anyone. I just want to finish school safely and return home.”
Lubua laughed and said:
“Makwega, forget all that. Things are good here. Even the Assistant Head Prefect is from Tambaza. Nothing bad will happen to us. We have a shield to protect us. I swear by the holy books and the Prophet that everything will end safely. Please come to the wedding.”
Eventually the narrator agreed. Wearing a sweater, heavy coat, and hat for the cold night, he joined about 60 Tambaza students walking a long distance toward the villages near Masandare Primary School.
At the celebration, traditional Pare drums were playing while people roasted meat nearby.
Fidodido welcomed them warmly.
They sat around a fire, roasting and eating pieces of meat.
Around midnight they were served food in groups of ten: white maize ugali made from soaked maize flour, slightly sour in taste, with meat.
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After eating, the traditional drums paused and modern music began.
The large group of Tambaza boys made the celebration lively with dancing and jokes.
Around 2 a.m., the narrator reminded Lubua that some of them needed to travel the next morning. Lubua gathered everyone, counted all 60 students, thanked Fidodido, and they walked back to school.
The next morning each student boarded either a train or bus back to Dar es Salaam for the holidays.
Today, the narrator reflects on those memories. The story may bring humor and nostalgia about the adventures of youth.
But he asks readers to remember Lubua Mustapha’s words:
“Everything will happen safely because we have a shield to protect us.”
He then asks what Tanzania from 2021–2026 and the future Tanzania can learn from these words—especially when considering issues like kidnappings, violence, rape, and killings.
The point is the same:
“Things must happen safely because we have a shield to protect us.”
Therefore, those responsible for such crimes—and those protecting them—must be dealt with. Kidnappings must stop, and Tanzania must remain safe today, tomorrow, and in the future.
Even worse is the one who protects the criminals, because that person becomes the chief criminal by guaranteeing their safety.
Whoever protects them—whether Doroth Mohammed, Siti, Fidodido, an assistant prefect, or a head prefect—must be addressed.
Mwanakwetu, are you there? Remember:
“Everything will happen safely because we have a shield to protect us.”
Have a good day.
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