The fears that voting time brings for people with albinism

With each election season in Tanzania comes a new trauma for 42-year-old Mariam Stafford.

For most, fiesta-like rallies and songs, along with campaign messages, signal an opportunity for people to make their voices heard. But for those with albinism, they bring terror.

Warning: This article contains details of graphic violence that some people may find disturbing

“The first thing that comes to me is fear,” Mariam told the BBC as people prepared to vote for president and parliament on Wednesday.

“I know that killings of people with albinism happen especially during elections in Tanzania when beliefs in witchcraft increase. That’s why I don’t campaign… I’m so scared.”

Albinism, which affects about 30,000 people in Tanzania, is a rare genetic disorder that reduces melanin, the pigment that gives skin, eyes and hair its color.

Superstition has made those with the condition targets. The false belief that body parts of people with albinism bring wealth, luck or political success has led to attacks and killings in Tanzania.

Activists say such attacks increase in the run-up to elections as people vie for political influence.

Mariam knows firsthand what this danger looks and feels like.

In 2008, one of the bloodiest years for people with albinism in Tanzania, as preparations for local elections were underway, machete-wielding men burst into her bedroom in Kagera, a northwestern border region.

“They came late at night, cut off my right arm (above the elbow) and took it away, then they also cut off my left arm.

“The next day I was taken to the dispensary unconscious and the doctor who saw me said, ‘This man is already dead, take him home and bury him.’

Against the odds, Mariam survived; but she was five months pregnant and her unborn child was not.

The attack not only left her permanently disabled, but forced her to leave Kagera, one of the epicenters of ritual killings of people with albinism at the time.

She eventually settled in the relatively peaceful area of ​​Kilimanjaro, where an albinism rights group, Under the Same Sun, built her a house and taught her to use a knitting machine. Now she makes sweaters.

Seventeen years later, the trauma has not faded.

“Even now I sometimes dream about that night,” Mariam says. “When I wake up, I touch my hands and remember they’re gone. It’s something I’ll never escape.”

What happened to Miriam was one of many attacks targeting people with albinism and their body parts.

Under The Same Sun says there have been 211 such incidents in Tanzania since 2008:

• 79 people were killed
• 100 people were maimed but survived
• Three victims were not injured
• Two people have been kidnapped and are missing
• 27 graves were desecrated and parts of their bodies were looted.

In 2008 alone, about 35 people with albinism were killed, while many other deaths likely went undetected.

These killings sparked global condemnation, leading to a government crackdown. Then-President Jakaya Kikwete condemned the attacks and called for tough action against the killers.

As a result, Tanzania stepped up investigations into witchcraft-related killings of people with albinism and tightened anti-discrimination laws.

There are also attempts to raise public awareness of the issue.

At a roundabout in the northwestern town of Sengerema, a monument has been erected in memory of the children, women and men with albinism who lost their lives or were maimed in attacks.

The life-size metal statue shows a father carrying a child with albinism on his shoulders while a mother shields him from the sun.

Mariam’s name is carved into the monument.

So is that of Mariamu Emmanuel, who was just five years old when she was murdered in 2008.

Sitting in his home in Mwanza, her brother Manyashi Emmanuel, now 25, recalls that day. The pain still haunts him.

“I was eight years old and saw her legs, arms and tongue removed by the attackers. I’ve been scared ever since. It’s hardest at times when we hear about attacks near elections.”

Despite awareness campaigns, attacks continue.

One was recorded this year in the northwestern city of Simuyu in June. The victim is unharmed, but has already been moved to a secure residence.

President Samia Suluhu Hassan recently warned against what she called harmful traditional beliefs, saying they have no place in Tanzanian elections.

Seni Ngaga, the district commissioner of one of the areas prone to attacks, says government education campaigns have raised awareness, but rural areas remain vulnerable to superstition as well as discrimination.

She wants more involvement from everyone in the community to stop the attacks.

“We recently held a festival with traditional healers where we sat together and talked,” the commissioner told the BBC.

“As the election approaches, we have also advised them to be good ambassadors to tell others to reject such actions and ensure that people with albinism are protected.”

While campaign groups and survivors say the government still needs to do much more, some progress has been made.

Awareness drives, civil society programs and school inclusion initiatives have helped reduce attacks in some areas.

Communities are slowly coming to understand that people with albinism are not cursed and that superstitions can have deadly consequences.

But the killing last year of two-year-old Asimwe Nowat, who was abducted from her home in Kagera district, is a reminder that the problem has not gone away.

Witnesses said the toddler was forcibly taken away by two unidentified men while he was playing with his mother.

Seventeen days later, parts of Asimwe’s body were found in a sack dumped under a bridge in the same area. Her remains were later buried in her family home.

Nine suspects have been charged with premeditated murder in connection with the murder, but the case is not over.

For Mariam, the case brings back disturbing memories.

“It brought me back to the night of my attack in 2008. I know that pain and I know her mother will never forget it.”

Her experience means that fear is part of her daily life. She avoids crowds and rarely leaves her home unaccompanied.

As Wednesday’s vote approaches, Mariam says she won’t be voting, skeptical about what difference it will make to her life.

Instead, she will spend the day quietly at home on Kilimanjaro.