When President John Magufuli publicly announced that he had
pardoned thousands of prisoners to commemorate the Independence of
Tanganyika this past week, he was simply doing what his predecessors
have been doing since the early 1960s.
This is a time
to show sovereign clemency, and in our formalistic setup, such clemency
is vested in the sovereign power incarnated in the president of the
republic, so no one would so much as bat an eyelid.
But
when he specifically pointed out two of the prisoners to be released
through his clemency, some jaws had to be picked from the floor, so
great was the amazement in certain quarters. For these two were a father
and his son who were serving life after being found guilty of having
sexually abused young schoolgirls, the abuses including defilement and
sodomy, unspeakable offences in our supposedly polite society.
The
father and son, both crooners, had exhausted all the legal appeals
available to them, but the sentence had been confirmed. That, of course,
did not constitute a hindrance to the presidential pardon, so
everything was in order legalistically.
Rather, another
jaw-dropping moment came when a mini-riot formed at the gates of the
prison where the two had been held, with anxious throngs demanding to
see their “heroes.” Video clips showed jail warders struggling to keep
order and allow the released prisoners to get out smoothly.
But
word of this kind travels fast, and throngs had formed along the route
the pair were to take, with young people shouting themselves hoarse and
jumping and throwing themselves down in ecstatic seizures, some
chanting, some crying.
Heroic status
A
most astonishing scene, if you ask me. How had these condemned
individuals acquired such heroic status that such a sizeable crowd could
come out to receive them as people normally welcome liberators,
victorious sportsmen/women and other distinguished personalities?
Was
there a widespread belief that the law courts had for some reason not
given them a fair trial, or that the law was intrinsically bad, or that
the prison terms they received were too harsh? I am still baffled, and
basically my bafflement grows out of my suspicion that even the
questions I am posing here could well be irrelevant.
As
is the wont of such heavy kicks to the groin, the provincial Governor
of Mwanza, John Mongella, almost at the same time this was happening,
announced that all pregnant schoolgirls who fail to mention the men who
knocked them up should be arrested and charged.
Charged
with what, he did not say, but the irony was not lost on too many
people, that on one hand we are amnestying child defilers and on the
other we want to arrest the victims of child defilement.
I
have said, ad nauseam, that rather than haggle over political
philosophies and ideologies (things we can even hardly wrap our heads
around), let’s just try to make sense, to be rational and sane. I see
little sanity around.
It is to be regretted that after
three or so decades in which valiant women and men established a number
of principles concerning gender equity and justice, we have slipped back
into the morass of misogyny, or at best, outright nonchalance when we
are confronted with egregious acts of violence against women.
But
maybe we want to keep the good company offered us by Donald Trump and
his coterie, who went on supporting the candidacy of Roy Moore even
after several women accused him of sexual offences, including against
minors. The beauty of these Bible-thumpers who would like us to believe
they talk with God every lunch hour, is that their hypocrisy is not
better than ours.
One thumper by the name of Jim
Ziegler even suggested that it was okay for Moore to harass underage
girls because Joseph was a grown carpenter while Mary was a little girl.
That is the way these people’s minds work. He did not
even ask himself whether there was anything to suggest Joseph
molesting, or making unwanted advances on Mary. The thing is they all
wanted votes, and whatever blasphemy they blurted out was to be
understood against that background.
Between the bigots
in Alabama and the ones closer home, whom I always see praying and
invoking the Almighty, I cannot choose. The only thing I know is that if
they ever go to some heaven, I wanna opt out.
Jenerali
Ulimwengu is chairman of the board of the Raia Mwema newspaper and an
advocate of the High Court in Dar es Salaam. E-mail: ulimwengu@jenerali.com
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