KILIMANJARO, TANZANIA — For most Tanzanians, election season is a time of songs, rallies, and civic excitement. But for Mariam Staford, it brings back memories soaked in blood.

“The first thing that comes to me is fear,” she said quietly, her voice steady but tired. “I know that killings of people with albinism happen, especially during election time. That’s why I stay home. I am so afraid.”

At 42, Mariam bears scars that speak louder than words. In 2008, when local elections were approaching, machete-wielding men stormed her home in Kagera, in north-western Tanzania. They cut off both her arms and left her for dead.

“The doctor said, ‘This person is already dead. Take her back and bury her,’” Mariam recalled. She was five months pregnant then. The child did not survive.

A Life Rebuilt from Loss

Against every odd, Mariam lived. She fled Kagera — one of the epicentres of attacks on people with albinism — and resettled in Kilimanjaro, where she found refuge through a non-profit group, Under the Same Sun.

The organisation built her a home and trained her to knit. Today, she earns a modest living making sweaters. But even as she works, the past clings to her.

“Sometimes I dream of that night,” she said. “When I wake up, I touch my arms and remember they are not there. It is something I will never escape.”

The Deadly Superstition

Tanzania is home to an estimated 30,000 people with albinism, a genetic condition that reduces melanin — the pigment that gives colour to the skin, eyes, and hair. But superstition, not science, shapes how many still view it.

Across rural Tanzania, witchcraft beliefs persist. Body parts of people with albinism are said to bring luck, power, or political success — myths that have fuelled gruesome killings for decades.

According to Under the Same Sun, there have been 211 reported attacks on people with albinism since 2008:

• 79 killed

• 100 mutilated but survived

• 2 abducted and still missing

• 27 graves desecrated for body parts

In 2008 alone, as many as 35 people were murdered — a spike linked to pre-election superstition.

A Nation Confronts Its Shame

Public outrage and international condemnation eventually pushed the government to act. Then-President Jakaya Kikwete denounced the killings and ordered a crackdown.

The government tightened laws against witchcraft-related crimes and discrimination. Public education campaigns followed, including a striking monument in Sengerema: a life-size metal statue of a family shielding a child with albinism from the sun.

Mariam’s name is carved on it — alongside that of five-year-old Mariamu Emmanuel, who was killed the same year.

The Pain That Never Fades

In Mwanza, Mariamu’s brother, Manyashi Emmanuel, now 25, still remembers that night.
“I was eight,” he said softly. “I saw her legs, hands and tongue cut off. Since then, I’ve been scared — especially during elections.”

Despite progress, the attacks have not vanished. In June this year, a person with albinism was targeted in Simiyu, though they escaped unharmed.

President Samia Suluhu Hassan has condemned harmful traditional beliefs, urging citizens to reject superstition and protect the vulnerable.

Local officials, too, are taking action. Senyi Ngaga, a district commissioner in one of the most affected areas, told the BBC that outreach efforts now include working with traditional healers.

“We sat together and talked,” she said. “As elections approach, we ask them to be good ambassadors and tell others to stop these acts.”

Fragile Progress

Rights groups acknowledge that awareness and education have made a difference. Some communities are beginning to accept that albinism is a natural condition, not a curse. School inclusion programmes and local campaigns have helped reduce stigma.

But tragedies continue to surface.

Last year, two-year-old Asimwe Novath was abducted from her home in Kagera. Seventeen days later, parts of her body were found under a bridge. Nine suspects have been charged, but her mother is still waiting for justice.

For Mariam, the case reopened old wounds.
“It took me back to my own night of attack,” she said. “I know that pain. Her mother will never forget it.”

As Tanzania prepares to vote again, Mariam will stay home — not out of apathy, but out of fear.

“I don’t think voting will change anything for me,” she said. “I’ll just stay inside and pray that everyone with albinism is safe.”