WHAT DO CITIZENS DO IF THEY DO NOT WANT THEIR PRESIDENT?

Adeladius Makwega – Mbagala

July 7, 2026 was a day that had been planned for peaceful demonstrations, which Tanzania’s security and defense forces had already banned (they prohibited the demonstrations for reasons best known to themselves).

On this day, Mwanakwetu communicated with several of his acquaintances from 6:00 a.m. until noon.

In Dar es Salaam and many parts of Tanzania, the situation appeared calm, though under heavy security presence.

“I passed by Kimara on my way to work; there are police, soldiers, and many intimidating vehicles everywhere. How long will we live like this in Tanzania? I’m at work now—let me get some snacks and tea, I’ll call you later.”

These are the words Mwanakwetu heard from one of the people he spoke with.

After ending the call, the mention of snacks and tea made Mwanakwetu feel hungry as well. He decided to stop at a nearby café. There, he had tea, rice, sardines, and beans. He paid 10,000 shillings and received 8,000 shillings in change: three 1,000-shilling notes and one 5,000-shilling note.

After that, he went to top up airtime on his phone.

Along the way, there were many motorcycle taxi riders (bodaboda) parked, waiting for customers. The young men were complaining that there were no clients.

One of them asked:

“So, if we citizens don’t want the President, what do we do?”

Mwanakwetu arrived at a shop and handed over a 5,000-shilling note to buy airtime, while the bodaboda riders continued discussing among themselves.

He gave the number 0665887831. The shop attendant checked and a name appeared: “MAGRETH.” Mwanakwetu said no. The attendant tried again; Mwanakwetu repeated the same number. This time the name “Francis Makwega” appeared, then the attendant asked, “Adeodatus, did I pronounce it correctly or not?” Mwanakwetu laughed and said, “It’s pronounced ADELADIUS.”

Even as he was being served, Mwanakwetu’s mind remained fixed on the discussion among the bodaboda riders.

One young man said:

“You’re wasting time asking us—ask ChatGPT, it will give you answers.”

As Mwanakwetu’s airtime was being processed, these words could be heard from the group:

“ChatGPT says:

In Tanzania, there are constitutional and democratic procedures that can be followed if citizens are dissatisfied with the President:

First, general elections — Citizens can use their right to vote to choose another leader in the next election. This happens every five years.”

The young men responded:

“That’s not an option.”

“Second, accountability through Parliament — Parliament has the authority to oversee the government. In special circumstances, it can initiate a process to remove the President from office (impeachment) if there is a serious violation of the Constitution or the law.”

(The young men replied: “Our Members of Parliament can’t do that.”)

“Third, the courts — Constitutional matters can be taken to court if there are claims of violation of the Constitution or the law.”

(The young men replied: “With our courts? That’s a lie—maybe in Kenya.”)

“Fourth, public opinion and peaceful demonstrations — Citizens can express dissatisfaction through lawful and peaceful means, such as demonstrations or public expression.”

(The young men replied: “But even those demonstrations have been banned. They’re all the same.”)

“It is important to follow legal and peaceful means to maintain stability and democracy.”

Mwanakwetu received his airtime and then asked the shop attendant, “Do you have groundnuts?” The attendant said no. A woman nearby smiled, perhaps thinking Mwanakwetu didn’t even know how to cook traditional food.

At that point, ChatGPT had finished “answering,” and Mwanakwetu returned home, deciding to document everything in this article.