Sulieman Mujuni Baitani – Zanzibar National Coordinator | Tanzania Human Rights Defenders Coalition (THRDC)
Sulieman Mujuni Baitani is a committed human rights defender whose portfolio includes writing, political engagement, and civil society work. He has dedicated himself to amplifying marginalized voices and strengthening civic space in Zanzibar.
Sulieman Mujuni Baitani’s entry into civil society work started in 2013, fuelled by a simple yet steady love for writing that began during his university years around 2011. At first, writing was not a career ambition or a structured talent but a survival tool. “Writing helped me process questions I did not yet know how to voice,” he recalls. He wrote about fairness, responsibility, and the everyday frustrations that students carried but rarely expressed. Short reflections on leadership, identity, fear, and the emotional challenges that young people face gradually found their way onto early social media pages, into notebooks, and to close friends who encouraged him to keep going. Looking back, he says, “Those early writings were simple, but they carried a sincerity that people connected to.”
The topics of his writing grew deeper as he paid more attention to the world around him. He wrote about politics long before he entered it and about inequality before he fully understood it. These pieces became a lens for making sense of the tensions on campus, the student politics he observed, and the sense that something larger was at play. His voice began to attract attention from those outside the university, including youth political networks, who later approached him because they felt his writing showed courage. Among them was Jumanne Mtambalike, the co-founder and Chief Executive Officer of Sahara Ventures, who in 2014 opened the door for him to join the Hatua Project under the Making All Voices Count initiative. His early assignments there immersed him in conversations on community voice, youth and women’s rights, civic technology, and public accountability. At the same time, his interest in politics, which had taken root in 2011 during university, continued to grow as he became active in student structures and later took on responsibilities within local party organizing.
Beyond campus, Baitani began engaging with party youth structures and local-level political organizing. Youth leaders from Chama cha Demokrasia na Maendeleo (CHADEMA) noticed his writing and analysis, encouraging him to get involved. He attended meetings, participated in discussions about fairness, freedom, and leadership, and helped with mobilization at the ward level. These experiences exposed him to the realities of power—how internal decisions were made, how candidate selections occurred, and how influence, alliances, and loyalty often shaped outcomes more than ideas or fairness. He witnessed how enthusiasm from young people could fuel campaigns yet rarely translate into meaningful participation.
Reflecting on these early encounters, he says: “I began to see that ideals alone were not enough; leadership is tested in real situations, and the cost of silence or compromise can be high.” His writing helped him clarify what he believed, while political exposure showed him the stakes of those beliefs in practice.
Political exposure brought lessons far more complex than he had anticipated. Internal processes, questions of fairness, and the realities of political culture forced him to re-examine the meaning of leadership. In 2014, during this period, he lost his father, the person who had supported every step he took, even when his ideas were imperfect. His death confronted him with profound questions about identity, purpose, and direction. In response, he withdrew completely, traveling to the Northern Highlands and settling in Msanga Muungano in the Sumbawanga area. There, he lived quietly for months without digital communication, surrounded by people who lived simply and honestly. Reflecting on this period, he says: “It grounded me in humility, strengthened my sense of calm, and taught me the value of listening. It also reconnected me with everyday citizens whose voices rarely appear in political debates, yet whose lives bear the weight of national decisions.”
He made the decision to return to Dar es Salaam and joined the Tanzania Bora Initiative (TBI) as a volunteer, a space that blended democracy work, civic education, technology, and youth engagement. The environment was fast-paced and demanding, yet it shaped him profoundly, challenging him to think critically, work with evidence, and refine his analytical skills. Within four months, he transitioned from volunteer to full-time staff at TBI. He contributed to campaigns such as Jua Katiba, Balozi wa Amani, Kijana Wajibika, She Codes for Change, and Sauti Moja, which transformed civic education and public accountability from theoretical concepts into hands-on work with communities.
Reflecting on these experiences, he says: “Jua Katiba taught me how to translate complex laws into content that youth could understand. Balozi wa Amani showed me the emotional power of peace narratives. Kijana Wajibika immersed me in community-led accountability. She Codes for Change exposed me to the intersection of gender and technology, and Sauti Moja placed me inside nationwide conversations on youth voice and political engagement. These experiences pulled every part of my background into a single direction: working at the intersection of civic space, youth development, technology, and community mobilisation.”
For Baitani, commitment to defending human rights was not sparked by a single event, but by two moments during the above-mentioned community engagements. One was listening to a young woman explain how a simple piece of information had changed how she viewed herself and her rights. Her confidence was new, fragile, but real. Seeing that shift made him understand that advocacy has the power to move someone from silence to participation. “That kind of transformation does not happen by accident; it happens when someone is willing to stand between people and the systems that ignore them,” he reflects.
The second moment that reshaped his direction came during community dialogues where citizens spoke freely about experiences that rarely make it into official reports. Men who feared reporting abuse, women navigating barriers to justice, and youth denied opportunities not because they lacked talent but because gatekeeping had become normalized. Their stories were raw and unfiltered, and they made one thing clear: people know exactly what hurts them; they simply lack the protection and platforms to speak without fear.
He realized that defending human rights was fundamental when he recognized how often defenseless people rely on strangers—not because they want rescuing, but because they want someone to stand with them while they reclaim what already belongs to them. “The work of defending human rights is not heroic; it is a commitment to accompany people whose lives are shaped by forces they did not choose,” he says. This realization has anchored his purpose.
In 2019, Baitani’s time with the Tanzania Bora Initiative came to an end, and he joined the Center for Youth Dialogue (CYD), where he was immersed in the hopes, fears, and frustrations of young people who rarely appeared in public policy conversations. This work, he reflects, “grounded me in the importance of listening and understanding community realities before attempting to influence them.” Later, from mid-2019 to 2023, he joined the Association of Women with Disabilities in Zanzibar (JUWAUZA), a period that exposed him to the weight of exclusion carried by women living with disabilities. “Their courage shaped my resolve to pursue human rights work more intentionally,” he says.
In 2023, while still with JUWAUZA, Baitani applied to join the Tanzania Human Rights Defenders Coalition (THRDC). When the opportunity came, he assumed the role of Zanzibar National Coordinator, becoming the first full-time holder of that office.
Entering THRDC felt like a natural continuation of everything he had learned. The years at CYD taught him patience and deep engagement, while his experience at JUWAUZA instilled empathy, courage, and an appreciation for the strength found in communities facing daily barriers. The political lessons reminded him of the importance of integrity. “All these experiences prepared me for the responsibility of protecting HRDs and supporting civic space in Zanzibar. This path has never been accidental,” he says.
As the Zanzibar National Coordinator of THRDC, Baitani works at the meeting point of two legal worlds: Zanzibar’s semi-autonomous system and the national framework. It is a terrain where nuance matters, where relationships shape not just opportunity but security. Leading a network of over sixty organisations across Unguja and Pemba requires delicate balance: legal expertise, political awareness, cultural fluency, and community trust. “Every decision echoes through a small island community,” he says. “You meet the same people you challenge at the mosque, in markets, at weddings. You cannot advocate from a distance.”
One of Baitani’s most impactful achievements is the launch of the Prison Communication and Complaint Guidelines—the first rights-based framework of its kind in Zanzibar. For years, inmates had no formal channels for reporting abuse or communicating with families and legal advisers. “The system relied on unrecorded conversations and personal discretion,” he explains. “It became clear that inmates were navigating silence, not structure.” His work introduced documented procedures, safe reporting channels, protection against reprisals, and accountable communication processes that upheld dignity and mental well-being. “It transformed fear into a documented right,” he notes. “It was not just reform. It restored humanity.”
Working as a human rights defender in Zanzibar has not been easy for Baitani. The civic space is narrow, deeply sensitive, and responsive to every shift in political or social conversation. As a result, the emotional demands are distinct: the line between public duty and personal life easily dissolves. “I do not advocate from afar. I live among the same people whose decisions I question,” he says. “Every word you say in public follows you into private spaces, and every decision you take must be made with a full understanding of how it will echo through a small island community.”
Some of his most challenging moments have come when defending people involved in politically sensitive cases. “There were times when stepping into a situation meant walking into a room where every face already knew who I was, who I worked with, and what I had said months earlier,” he recalls. He often had to mediate between authorities and victims, maintaining respect for both sides while carrying the quiet pressure that comes with working in such a close-knit environment. Even at the mosque, people would pull him aside after prayers to remind him to be cautious. These encounters taught him how to stand firm without damaging the relationships that are essential to sustaining human rights work in Zanzibar.
Yet, behind this are moments of fear, pressure, and sleepless nights. “Some HRDs worried about their families. Others feared retaliation. My role required calm, even when I felt the same anxiety,” he shares.
For Baitani, grounding comes from faith and community. “The mosque teaches humility,” he says. “When you bow your head next to someone who questioned your work yesterday, the heart softens.” Community encounters: greeting a police officer at a mishkaki stand or meeting a critic at a family celebration; remind him to separate individuals from systems. It is the resilience of the people he serves that fuels him. “Youth seeking direction, women insisting on dignity, persons with disabilities demanding space—their courage strengthens mine.”
Baitani is honest about where the human rights space stands. “We are still young,” he admits. As the first full-time Coordinator in Zanzibar, he is laying the foundation for an institution that can protect, respond, and grow with integrity. If given the power to reform one thing today, he would build an independent, trusted accountability system. “A place where the truth is received, processed, and acted upon,” he says. In a community as close as Zanzibar, this mechanism would allow people to seek justice without fearing social consequences. “Once people know justice can be reached without crossing personal lines, everything changes,” he reflects.
At the end of his journey, Baitani hopes for one thing: that people remember how he made them feel. “I hope they remember that I tried to make others feel seen,” he says. “If someone found courage because I stood with them, then my work has been worth it.”