KAIKAI'S KICKER: Elections and power of darkness

On my kicker, darkness is becoming part of the equation, if not the ultimate component, of elections in Africa.

Several elections ago, I stood in the middle of a dark hall at the Kenyatta International Conference Centre, Nairobi. The switching off of lights marked the beginning of the final rituals. The dark room was quickly emptied as red-beret General Service Unit (GSU) officers roughed us up and herded everyone towards the exit.

Outside, nightfall was fast approaching. From the horizon, I could see smoke replacing the setting sun, and shortly, it was dark. I walked back to the newsroom several blocks away and to a television screen where the then Electoral Commission of Kenya Chairman, Samuel Kivuitu, announced presidential election results. I will spare you the details. But of note here — it started with a dark room, the act of switching off lights, the action of inviting darkness to play its role.

So, for six days this week, Tanzania was in the dark. The internet was switched off. From social media platforms to streaming services, it all went dark. For the first time around East African newsrooms — including here in Nairobi — an unprecedented absence of information was occasioned. There were no pictures, no videos, no scripts, no phone calls, no live links. Nothing. It was all dark over Tanzania.

The darkness, both literal and figurative, ruled over East Africa’s largest country, the efficiency of the shutdown comparable to none and all previous regional crackdowns. One notable outcome of this shutdown was death and fear. Few sources, daring to overcome fear, started sharing short videos that told a story of horror that was in progress in Tanzania.

We started seeing bodies, most of them bearing bullet wounds, others badly mutilated. Then there were injuries — gory images of young people groaning in pain with gaping bullet wounds on their limbs. These images confirmed what transpired under the cover of the six-day darkness.

The media, which is usually the source of information, was nowhere to be seen in Tanzania. The media only emerged at the tail end of the darkness when the electoral body was ready with the results. INEC declared that President Samia Suluhu Hassan had garnered over 31 million votes — the highest ever number of votes recorded in Tanzania’s presidential elections.

All this after the long cover of darkness, where no information was available. No pictures of voters in polling stations. No videos of vote counting or tallying, and even provisional declarations from polling stations. Everything happened in a very short sequence, which can be described in three steps:
Step one — Election Day.
Step two — darkness.
Step three — election results.

Now, I am not sure member countries of the East African Community often share lessons, but this, I beg, should not be one of them. That script is not just flawed but also dangerous. Democratic elections by nature are about openness, transparency, and accountability.

Here in Kenya, it is a constitutional requirement that elections are verifiable — from process to results. And when the Supreme Court in 2017 couldn’t find the electronic transmission of results verifiable, it nullified the election result outright.

But for election results to be verifiable, one thing must be present: light. That can either be natural light or generated light — the two that literally went missing in Tanzania between election day and results day.

However, one thing is certain: sunrise is inevitable, however long a night is. And sunrise proves the futility of darkness. That is why in Tanzania it could be said, in Kiswahili: Kumepambazuka. And we are starting to hear a lot of things about those six dark days.