You were not just building businesses. You were building futures, communities, and hope. You were hiring young people, training vendors, collaborating with farmers, coders, designers, and dreamers. You were showing the world that Tanzania’s youth could innovate, lead, and rise.
And then came October 2025.
What happened during the elections was not just political. It was personal. It was brutal. It was heartbreaking. More than 23,000 lives are believed to have been lost. Many of them were young, ambitious, and full of promise. Some were your colleagues, your co-founders, your employees, your suppliers, your friends. Some were strangers whose stories mirrored your own.
You saw the violence offline. You felt the terror online. You watched your country turn against its own children for the sake of power. You saw dreams silenced, voices crushed, and futures erased.
And now, you are expected to keep going.
To pitch. To build. To smile. To post. To pretend.
But how do you build in a country that buries its brightest? How do you stay motivated when the soil beneath your feet is soaked in the blood of your generation?
You do not have to pretend.
You are allowed to grieve. You are allowed to feel broken. You are allowed to pause.
But please, do not give up.
Your grief is sacred. Your rage is valid. Your silence is powerful. And your survival is resistance.
To every startup founder who lost a teammate, a loved one, a vendor, or a customer, we see you. To every entrepreneur who feels numb, disillusioned, or afraid, we hear you. To every young innovator who wonders if it is worth it, we say—yes, it is. But not in the same way. Not with the same blind hope. Not without justice.
Let this be a season of mourning, of reflection, of truth-telling. Let your pitch decks carry the names of those who never got to finish theirs. Let your business plans include healing. Let your growth strategies include justice.
You are not just building companies. You are building memory. You are building a legacy.
And legacy cannot be killed.