People with albinism in Tanzania live with the knowledge that their lives carry a price, whether dead or alive.
Election season has begun. Campaign posters are up across the country ahead of the October 29 vote, but for people living with albinism this period brings more than the usual uncertainty. It signals fear.
I was in Dar es Salaam last week where I met with the Tanzania Albinism Society, a small but determined NGO that has been raising awareness for decades in a society where people with albinism are hunted. Their work feels even more urgent now.
My interest in this story was stirred earlier this year by a ruling of the African Court for Human Rights. In February, the court held Tanzania accountable for decades of violations against people with albinism. It recognised that harmful superstitions had fuelled killings, discrimination and stigma. The court ordered the government to launch nationwide campaigns to dismantle myths, create an action plan, criminalise attacks, and establish a compensation fund for victims.
It was a historic judgment for a country that is a source point for trafficking routes in East and Southern Africa where a market for body parts continues to thrive. Tanzania is believed to have one of the highest populations of people with albinism in the world. Government records show more than 50 000 people, while the Tanzania Albinism Society has traced about 13 000.
Albinism is a rare inherited genetic condition.
It exists everywhere, but in sub-Saharan Africa the additional weight of superstition makes life far more dangerous. Beliefs persist that the bones, limbs and organs of people with albinism can be used in concoctions that promise health, wealth, or political power.
Mohamed Chanzi of the Tanzania Albinism Society told me that while awareness has grown, the upcoming elections have stirred old fears.
“Maybe the cause of killing is also winning political position. So there are people are in fear that maybe, those who are contesting can start going to the witchdoctor and they may be advised that they need a body part of a person with albinism,” Chanzi said.
He added that there have been some efforts to reduce stigma and attacks, but the terror remains. People have been killed in public, some attacked while others have survived attempted mutilations. Even graves have been desecrated.
Beyond the violence, the stories of discrimination are deeply painful. I was told how families often fracture when a child with albinism is born, with newborns regarded as curses.
Augustine Mlali has carried these scars into adulthood. She told me she was denied a job at a stationery shop because of her condition. “Albinism is not a a failure,” she said.
Her determination to keep speaking out left a mark on me. She refuses to stop informing society and challenging the belief that albinism defines destiny.
The possibility of renewed attacks during the election season is terrifying. Yet I left Tanzania feeling hopeful. Augustine and her peers are proof that courage and persistence can build a safer future, even in the face of such fear.
