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Benjamin Mkapa Stadium: Where High Hopes Meet Harsh Realities in 90 Minutes

TUESDAY afternoon at the Benjamin Mkapa National Stadium had all the ingredients of a classic football clash.
Sports & Culture Giggles

TUESDAY afternoon at the Benjamin Mkapa National Stadium had all the ingredients of a classic football clash.

Taifa Stars, with the weight of a nation’s hopes on their shoulders, were about to face off the formidable DR Congo, a team that had already made its intentions clear with a series of clean sweeps in the 2025 AFCON qualifiers.

As fans filled into the stadium, they were buzzing with anticipation. “Tukiweka nguvu tutaibuka na ushindi! (If we give it our all, we will win!)” they confidently declared, ignoring that faint, nagging voice whispering, “But what if we don’t?”

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By the time the referee blew the final whistle, that little voice had become a resounding chorus.

Stars had been outclassed, outmanoeuvred, and outscored by two blistering goals from Meshack Elia Lina.

The Congolese striker had made a mockery of Tanzania’s defence, sliding in to volley home the first and then, just for fun, putting the second past goalkeeper Ali Salim with a cool, clinical finish from the edge of the box.

Two-nil, game over.

DR Congo danced their way to the top of Group H with 12 points, while Tanzania was left to pick up the pieces.

Now, let us take a step back and examine where it all went wrong.

You see, there is a peculiar belief among Tanzanian football fans that the Taifa Stars should always win—no matter the opponent, the form, or the tactical approach.

It is as if we think football is a romantic tale, one where underdogs always prevail, the ball always finds the back of the net and the referee is always on our side. But football, dear readers, is not fiction.

The problem, however, is not just among the fans.

This overconfidence seems to permeate the entire system, starting from government officials, Tanzania Football Federation (TFF) and trickling down to the players.

What does this mean? It means that despite not having a world-class team, despite the glaring gaps in coaching, training and player development, we somehow still expect to go toe-to-toe with the continent’s best and emerge victorious.

The painful truth is football requires more than just dreams and hopes. It demands preparation, strategy and hard work.

Yet, here we are, hoping that lady luck will smile on us while forgetting to bring the basics to the table.

And then there are the infamous “Wachambuzi,” the self-proclaimed analysts who swarm radio stations and social media after every defeat.

These guys are special. They can take apart a game faster than a mechanic working on a three-wheeled Bajaj.

They can tell you everything that went wrong, how it went wrong and why it went wrong—except, of course, the real reason.

In their endless stream of critiques, they dissect the game, criticise the formation, call out the players and demand that the coach be sacked (again).

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But somehow, in all this noise, they miss the elephant in the room: that our football system is fundamentally not healthy.

The radio and online ‘football geniuses’ also love to blame the lineup.

“Mbona Fulani hakuanza? (Why didn’t so-and-so start?)” they scream.

“What about our strikers? They are so blunt they could not cut through butter!”—which, in fairness, does sound accurate after Tuesday’s performance.

But where are the deeper discussions? The real questions like: Why does Tanzania allow clubs to have 12 foreign players, and why are these players dominating our league while our homegrown talent warms the bench?

The “Wachambuzi” prefer to poke at surface-level issues, comfortably ignoring the fact that the local players are not getting enough competitive match time because they are often benched in favour of highly paid foreigners.

Worse still, the players who do get on the pitch are out of sync with the speed, tactics and intensity required to perform at international level.

But somehow, these details never quite make it into the post-match analysis.Another glaring issue is the lack of high-level coaching.  Take a glance at the Stars’ bench and you might feel a sense of nostalgia.

Yes, many of our coaches were once great players, adored by fans and feared by opponents.  But, unfortunately, playing football and coaching it are two very different beasts.

While Europe and North Africa churn out coaches who have undergone years of rigorous training and gained extensive experience, Tanzania still seems to be stuck in the era when simply attending a few FIFA clinics qualifies you to lead a national team.

Back in the 1970s, when Tanzania sent a few promising individuals abroad for proper training—names like Ray Gama, Joel Bendera and Paul West Gwivaha come to mind.

These guys came back with fresh ideas and technical knowledge that helped push Tanzanian football forward. It was that period when Stars made their AFCON debut!

But since then, the system has stagnated.

Today’s coaches are often former stars who may know how to score a wonder goal but struggle to explain complex defensive formations or implement modern strategies.

And yet, we still place the responsibility of guiding the Taifa Stars to victory on their shoulders. It is like asking someone who can ride a bicycle to drive an SGR train to Dodoma

Let us talk about the TFF. Now, I am not saying they are the villains of the piece, but they have certainly made some questionable decisions.

Allowing clubs to sign and play up to (unlimited) 12 foreign players might sound like a great idea on paper.

“It’ll raise the standard of our league!” they probably thought.

And sure, watching foreign talent can be thrilling—until you realise that it is coming at the expense of developing local players.

Instead of grooming the next generation of Taifa Stars, we have allowed the local league to become a playground for foreign imports.

Tanzanian players are left to rot on the bench, their match fitness and experience diminishing with every game they don’t play.

And then, when it is time for international duty, we wonder why our squad looks sluggish, why they struggle to keep up with the opposition, and why we keep losing matches we should be winning.

It is not rocket science. If our players are not getting regular match time, they won’t be in peak condition.

If they are not being challenged by competitive opponents week in and week out, they won’t develop the sharpness, stamina and mental toughness needed for international football.

But again, this inconvenient truth seems to escape the attention of the football ‘specialists’ who dominate the airwaves and social media spaces after every defeat.

At this point, it is easy to point fingers and assign blame. The coach? Sack him. The players? Replace them. The lineup? Change it.

But if we keep playing the blame game without addressing the structural issues within Tanzanian football, we will be having this same conversation for years to come.

Taifa Stars’ struggles are not the result of one or two bad performances—they are the product of years of neglect, mismanagement and misplaced priorities.

If we are serious about changing the course of Tanzanian football, we need to start with the basics.

We need to invest in proper coaching, send our coaches abroad for proper long-term training and stop relying on foreign talent to fill the gaps in our league.

We need to give local players more game time, more opportunities to shine and more support to help them reach their full potential.

And most importantly, we need to stop relying on luck.

Football is a game of skill, strategy and hard work—hoping for a miracle is not a viable strategy.

Another one of the glaring challenges in Tanzanian football is the collective disregard of the numerous calls for clubs, from the fourth tier to the Premier League, to establish youth teams.

This issue, which has been raised repeatedly by football stakeholders, highlights a significant gap in long-term planning and development within the sport.

The idea of forming youth leagues to keep young players active, while offering scouts a wider pool of talent to choose from, was seen as a progressive step for the future of Tanzanian football.

However, this recommendation has largely gone unnoticed.

Why? The answer seems to lie in the obsession with immediate results. Tanzanian clubs, it appears, are hesitant to invest in a long-term project like youth development.

There is a belief that success must be attained now, not later. The focus on instant gratification leaves little room for the gradual process of nurturing young talent.

But here is the thing: football is a sport where patience often pays off. The most successful footballing nations globally didn’t get there overnight, but through years of investment in their youth systems.

The reluctance to form youth teams is not just a missed opportunity for clubs to build a sustainable future, but it also denies the young players a chance to develop their skills in a competitive environment.

Without such structures in place, the next generation of football stars may find themselves sidelined before they even get started.

In the end, short-term thinking could leave Tanzanian football running in circles, while the game itself demands a bit more patience – and a dash of foresight.

Well, As the Taifa Stars prepare for their next matches against Guinea and Ethiopia, it is time for some serious soul-searching.

Yes, we all want to see the team qualify for AFCON 2025. Yes, we want to see Tanzania compete on the big stage and hold our heads high.

But if we don’t address the underlying issues, if we don’t make the necessary changes, we will be doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again.

So, to all the Wachambuzi out there: maybe it is time to stop dissecting the lineup and start dissecting the system.

Because until we do, the Taifa Stars’ fortunes aren’t going to change. And that, my friends, is the harsh reality of Tanzanian football.