My Reflection on Mwalimu Julius Nyerere  

by Brenda Ngum (Cameroon)

Julius Kambarage Nyerere lovingly called Mwalimu (teacher)  is a figure whose life feels at once grand and intimate. He led Tanganyika and then Tanzania from the early 1960s to the mid-1980s and fashioned a political imagination rooted in African values, education, and moral leadership. As president he championed Ujamaa (Swahili for “familyhood”), a form of African socialism that sought to reorder society around communal bonds, equitable rural development, and self-reliance rather than imported capitalist models. The heart of Nyerere’s vision was stated formally in the Arusha Declaration (1967), which called for nationalization of key industries, a commitment to social equality, and policies that prioritized Tanzania’s own resources and people. He insisted that development should be measured by how it raised the dignity of ordinary citizens, not by abstract GDP alone. These ideals led to major investments in education and health care and to efforts to organize rural villages into cooperative, production-oriented communities known as ujamaa villages.

The results of his policies were mixed. On the one hand, literacy rates rose, primary health care expanded, and a strong narrative of national unity and anti-racial solidarity took root. Tanzania avoided some of the ethnic violence that afflicted its neighbors. On the other hand, forced or poorly planned villagization and collectivization strained agricultural productivity, and Tanzania at times became dependent on food aid; Nyerere’s policies, though principled, encountered practical limits in a poor post-colonial economy.

Among his many ideas, three stand out as most important. First, he urged society to be built around Ujamaa  community, mutual obligation, and rural cooperation grounded in African traditions rather than imported models. Second, he emphasized self-reliance and national control of key resources, believing that true independence meant depending on Tanzanians’ own efforts. Third, he prioritized human development through education, health, and moral leadership, insisting that schools and clinics were essential to creating citizens capable of self-governance and mutual respect.

Reading about Nyerere fills me with a warm, complicated admiration. As a humanist I am moved by his moral earnestness: a leader who truly foregrounded dignity, education, and community feels rare and beautiful. I admire that he often placed principle above personal enrichment and that he supported liberation movements across southern Africa — his international solidarity matched his domestic ideals. At the same time, my humanism also makes me ache for the human cost when good intentions collide with economic realities: people who faced food insecurity or whose livelihoods were disrupted by top-down programs. What I take away most is a nuanced lesson: visionary ideals such as community, equality, and self-reliance are indispensable, but so are humility, pragmatic planning, and listening to everyday people during implementation. Nyerere’s life is an invitation — to imagine politics as moral pedagogy, to center human development over profit, and to remember that love of country must include love for the most vulnerable. I leave his story inspired but clear-eyed: values must meet evidence and flexibility if they are to feed a nation sustainably.