I remember standing in a long line at a government office in Dar es Salaam a few years ago. The hall was crowded, the ceiling fans barely moving the hot air, and the clerks at their desks were slow, deliberate, almost theatrical in their pace. I had all my documents neatly arranged. But the man ahead of me leaned in, whispered something, slipped a folded note across the desk, and suddenly, just like that, his problem was solved.
I felt anger, but also recognition. That quiet handshake was not new. It was a story I had seen before, a story that most Tanzanians know too well.
We talk about corruption like it is a normal inconvenience, as if it is part of our weather. Yet it costs us so much more than a few lost shillings. It robs us of medicine in hospitals, desks in schools, jobs for our young people. The numbers back this up. In 2024, Tanzania scored 41 out of 100 on the Corruption Perceptions Index. It is our highest score ever, better than many of our neighbours, but it is still below the global average of 43. So yes, we are climbing, but slowly, too slowly.
Sometimes we forget that this is not the first time Tanzania has faced this dragon. In 1996, the famous Warioba Commission called corruption a “disease” spreading in every arm of government. They named it plainly: bribery in the police, graft in customs, theft in procurement. Fast forward almost three decades and those very same hotspots remain. Procurement, taxation, and customs are still the breeding grounds.
The late President Magufuli made people believe for a while that change was possible. He fired officials on live television, he raided ghost workers, he even made ministers line up to account for missing money. Many of us cheered. We felt, at last, that someone had broken the silence. But we also know that the fear he used is not the same as building institutions that last. After his passing, things have softened. The cases are fewer, the urgency less visible.
What worries me most is how corruption filters into the lives of ordinary people. A boda boda rider in Mwanza is stopped by traffic police and knows that arguing will waste his day and so he pays. A mother in Mbeya is told the hospital is “out of medicine” unless she can “find something small.” A young graduate in Arusha carries his certificate from one office to another, but no job will open without “connections.” The informal economy now makes up nearly half of Tanzania’s GDP. That tells you people would rather operate outside the system than inside one that bleeds them.
And yet, I do not write this only in despair. Because there are signs, however faint, that the story can change. When I talk to young people in universities, many of them refuse to see corruption as “normal.” They want transparent systems, online registrations, automated payments, processes where human hands cannot interfere. They want to live in a country where merit matters more than bribery.
To me, this is where the real battle lies not only in commissions and presidential orders, but in building systems so clean that they leave no room for crookedness. E-procurement for contracts, online tax systems that reduce face-to-face bargaining, simple licensing that does not trap small businesses in red tape.
I believe Tanzania can do this. We have already shown progress. We rank better than most of our neighbours, second only to Rwanda in East Africa. But the danger is complacency. We must not celebrate a score of 41 as if it is a medal. We must treat it as a reminder that we are still sick, even if the fever has gone down.
At the end of the day, corruption is not only about institutions. It is about us. Every time we pay a bribe, every time we look away when public money is stolen, we feed the very monster we claim to hate. If we want Tanzania to truly move forward, we need courage from leaders, yes, but also from ordinary citizens.
I think back to that day in the government office. I had a choice too. I could have slipped the note and saved myself hours. But I didn’t. I waited. It cost me time, but I slept better that night. That, to me, is where change begins: in the small acts of refusal.
Tanzania’s story with corruption is not yet over. It can still be rewritten.
By Juma Mwamba