*My Perspective
By Chukwudi George Ozalla
“When there is rock-like intransigence or sophisticated manipulation that mocks the empty-handed petitioner, the time comes for the oppressed to seize freedom with their own hands; but let them not be driven by the reckless emotion of the moment into acts of mad destruction. For rage replaces reason, and blind force is folly “. – Martin Luther King Jr.
Those were his words in 1967, in his book Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?
When a people truly make up their mind, nothing can stop them. Once the people resolve, freedom becomes inevitable. You either stand on your feet and live or die with honour, or choose to kneel in fear and still die or live in misery. But when citizens reach that point of resolve, they begin to see hope, a rainbow and silver lining even in the blood that may be shed for a worthy cause.
Those words are not empty rhetoric. They are the rhythm of revolutions and the quiet logic that has toppled kings, strongmen and self-imposed life presidents. Across Africa, power-drunk leaders continue to misread the patience of their people as weakness. They forget that power seized by intimidation can be lost in a heartbeat when the governed become defiantly resolute.
Tanzania offers a recent mirror of both reflection and introspection. The world once hailed the rise of a woman to its highest office as a victory for representation. Yet under President Samia Suluhu Hassan, the story has not been markedly different. The iron hand that many once associated only with male rulers has re-emerged in feminine form, curbing opposition, shrinking civic space and stifling dissent. Tyranny knows no gender. Good governance has no gender either; it is defined by accountability and empathy, not fear or force.
Across Africa, the pattern repeats itself — leaders clinging to power long after their people have grown weary of them. Paul Biya of Cameroon stands out as the most dramatic example. At 92, he has been in power since 1982, ruling for over 43 years. Despite being re-elected in 2025 amid widespread allegations of manipulation and intimidation, the cracks in his rule are now impossible to ignore. Cameroonians are restless. A nation that has known only one president for more than four decades is now caught between fatigue and fury.
We in Africa tend to make mockery of democracy, defying every reasonable reason to govern well, forgetting that the real and actual power rests with the people, only that they are too docile or cowardly to exercise it. Ironically, those who make life and society unbearable for citizens are not numerically larger than those they oppress. Yet they prevail through fear, manipulation and systemic deceit. It is also a puzzle of human behaviour that the same leaders who impoverish and torment their people somehow get re-elected, either by force, fraud or mass conditioning. Is it superimposition, or have our people become so accustomed to pain that they fall deeper into line the more they suffer? Black Africa, arise and shine.
Statistics tell the story of a continent held hostage by its leaders’ fear of life outside power. In the past two decades, more than 30 African countries have witnessed constitutional amendments or political manoeuvres designed to extend presidential terms. Uganda’s Yoweri Museveni, in power since 1986, scrapped term limits and then the age cap to stay on. In Equatorial Guinea, Teodoro Obiang Nguema Mbasogo has ruled since 1979. Denis Sassou Nguesso has held the reins of Congo-Brazzaville for a combined 40 years. In Eritrea, Isaias Afwerki has never allowed a single election since independence. All claim to serve their people, yet to any rational mind, none truly does.
History, however, is patient and unforgiving. Zine El Abidine Ben Ali of Tunisia ruled for 23 years until protests in 2011 chased him into exile. Hosni Mubarak’s 30-year rule in Egypt collapsed within weeks of mass protests. Muammar Gaddafi, once Africa’s most flamboyant autocrat, was killed in the same streets he once terrorised. Robert Mugabe, who ruled Zimbabwe for 37 years, was ousted by his own military in 2017 when even his loyalists could no longer justify his excesses. Omar al-Bashir of Sudan, who came to power in 1989, was removed in 2019 after months of unrelenting protests. The pattern is unmistakable: arrogance in power always ends in disgrace.
In Tanzania, where civic organisations have warned against rising intolerance, the lesson is unfolding in slow motion. Many who once cheered a new era of leadership now whisper in fear, unsure whether change truly came or simply changed its face. Power, once tasted, intoxicates all the same. Yet the warning lights are flashing. A government that chooses repression over dialogue and rejects accountability only pushes the people closer to that dangerous point of collective resolve.
When citizens lose faith in institutions, ballots give way to barricades. And when the state responds with force instead of reform, it deepens the wound. Africa’s streets have recorded this story before, from Tunis to Khartoum, from Harare to Ouagadougou. Each time, the rulers believed they could suppress discontent. Each time, the people proved them wrong.
Good governance speaks for itself; it needs no stressful interpretation to convince citizens. They can see it in enduring systems, functional schools, affordable hospitals, justice, jobs and equal opportunities. They can feel it in the air when leadership is sincere. You cannot beat, silence or bribe people into believing you are doing well. They know better.
Paul Biya’s frail figure at 92 should be a lesson, not a legacy. Power held too long becomes poison. A continent that should be leading in innovation, trade and human development remains crippled by the greed of leaders who prefer to die in office than build systems that can outlive them. Cameroon, under Biya, now ranks among the world’s least free nations, with poverty and insecurity deepening despite vast natural wealth. That is the price of leadership without conscience.
For African leaders still intoxicated by power, the handwriting on the wall is clear. Your people are watching. They may be silent for a while, but silence is not consent. The day they resolve, nothing will hold them back. They will stand, even at the risk of blood, because dignity denied for too long becomes a cause worth dying for.
Governance by intimidation can create temporary calm, but it cannot build lasting peace. No army, no decree, no propaganda can sustain what the people no longer believe in. The end of every dictatorship begins with disbelief, when the ruled stop believing the ruler’s story.
To Africa’s rulers, both men and women, this is a simple truth. Lead with fairness, justice and equity, or prepare for the storm. Power is a privilege, not a right. It is borrowed from the people and must be returned with honour. Those who ignore this truth may one day wake up to find that their people have resolved, and once that happens, forget it.
*Publisher and Editor-in-Chief, NEWSCOUNT.
