The fears that voting time brings for those with albinism

A new shock arrives with every election season in Tanzania for 42-year-old Maryam Stafford.

For most people, the festival-like marches and songs, along with campaign messages, signal an opportunity for people to make their voices heard. But for people 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 my mind is fear,” Maryam told the BBC as people prepared to vote to elect a president and parliament on Wednesday.

“I know that killings of people with albinism happen especially at election time in Tanzania, when witchcraft beliefs are intensified. That’s why I don’t participate in campaigns… I’m very afraid.”

Albinism, which affects an estimated 30,000 people in Tanzania, is a rare genetic condition that reduces melanin – the pigment that gives skin, eyes and hair color.

Superstition made those who had goals conditional. The misconception that body parts of people with albinism bring wealth, luck or political success has led to attacks and killings across Tanzania.

Activists say such attacks intensify in the period leading up to elections as people compete for political influence.

Maryam knows what this danger looks and feels like personally.

In 2008, one of the deadliest years for people with albinism in Tanzania, as preparations for local elections were underway, machete-wielding men broke into her bedroom in Kagera, a border region in the country’s northwest.

“They came late at night and cut off my right hand [from above the elbow] They took her and then cut off my left hand as well.

“The next day, I was taken to the infirmary, unconscious, and the doctor who saw me said: ‘This person is already dead, take her home and bury her.’”

Against all odds, Maryam survived. But she was five months pregnant and her child was not born.

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

Eventually, she settled back in the relative peace of Kilimanjaro, where, under the same sun, an albinism rights group built her a house and trained her to use a sewing machine. She now makes jackets.

Seventeen years later, the shock has not faded.

“Even now, I sometimes dream about that night,” Maryam says. “When I wake up, I touch my arms and remember they’re not there. That’s something I’ll never escape.”

What happened to Maryam was one of dozens of attacks targeting people with albinism and parts of their bodies.

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

• 79 people were killed
• 100 people were mutilated but survived
• Three victims were not injured
• Two people were kidnapped and are still missing
• 27 cemeteries were desecrated and body parts were looted.

In 2008 alone, up to 35 people with albinism were killed, while many other deaths likely went unreported.

These killings sparked global condemnation, prompting the government to launch a crackdown. The president at the time, Jakaya Kikwete, condemned the attacks and called for tough action against the killers.

As a result, Tanzania has intensified investigations when it comes to witchcraft-related killings of people with albinism, and tightened anti-discrimination laws.

There have also been attempts to raise public awareness about the issue.

At a traffic roundabout in the northwestern town of Singerima, a memorial was built to commemorate the children, women and men with albinism who lost their lives or were disfigured in the attacks.

The life-sized metal sculpture shows a father lifting an albino child onto his shoulders while the mother protects him from the sun.

Maryam’s name is engraved on the monument.

The same goes for Mariamo Emmanuel, who was five years old when she was killed in 2008.

Her brother, Manyashi Emmanuel, now 25, sits at home in Mwanza, remembering that day. The pain still haunts him.

“I was eight years old and saw the attackers cut off her legs, hands and tongue. Since then I have been afraid. It is sometimes more difficult when we hear about attacks as elections approach.”

Despite awareness campaigns, attacks continue.

One case was recorded this year, in the northwestern town of Simoyo, in June. The victim was not injured but has now been taken to a safe house.

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

Seni Njaga, commissioner of one of the areas vulnerable to attacks, says government education campaigns have increased understanding, but rural areas are still vulnerable to myths and 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.

“With the elections approaching, we also advised them to be good ambassadors to ask others to reject such actions and ensure the protection of people with albinism.”

While campaign groups and survivors say there is still a lot of work for the government to do, some progress has been made.

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

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

But last year’s murder of two-year-old Asiimwe Novath, who was kidnapped from her home in the Kagera region, was a reminder that the issue has not gone away.

Eyewitnesses said that two unknown men forcefully kidnapped the child while she was playing with her mother.

Seventeen days later, parts of Asiimwe’s body were found in a bag, thrown under a bridge in the same area. Her remains were later buried at her family home.

Nine suspects have been charged with premeditated murder in connection with the killing, but the case is far from over.

For Maryam, this case brought up troubling memories.

“It took me back to the night of her 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 home unaccompanied.

As voting approaches on Wednesday, Maryam says she will not cast her vote, doubting what difference it will make in her life.

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