I was recently reminded of the strange, sometimes twisted nature of democracy during a drive to Butiama. Approaching the single-lane Simiyu River bridge near Magu, I found myself suddenly stuck in the middle of it.
A 65-seater bus, coming from the opposite direction, had pulled onto the bridge even though I had clearly entered first. Rather than wait for me to exit, the driver pressed forward until his bus blocked my car more than halfway across.
For several minutes, the driver and I argued — joined by a growing number of passengers — over who should reverse. One passenger admitted their driver was wrong, but insisted I should back up because “they were many.”
I eventually reversed, thinking about how easily the will of the mighty can masquerade as the will of the majority.
That incident carried meaning beyond a traffic dispute. A bridge normally connects two sides, yet in that moment it became a chamber that magnified two forces: numbers and power. It was both a literal and symbolic narrow passage where confrontation loomed, much like democratic systems that funnel people into decisions where quantity can override fairness.
Democracy often falls short of its own principles. While it promises equal weight to each voice, political choices and public resources are limited, while demands are vast. The outcome is that not all demands are met. The imbalance means not all voices are truly equal.
This is where the tyranny of the majority emerges. Larger groups can pressure or silence smaller ones, even when the majority is mistaken. Referenda offer clear examples: the Brexit vote, decided by a slim majority, left 42 percent of voters — nearly half the country — on the losing side of a decision with sweeping consequences.
Of course, raw power and majority rule are not the same, though both can be abused. On that bridge, I was outnumbered and outsized; no amount of protest could match the physical dominance of a bus and its passengers.
In politics, similar dynamics play out when powerful groups or institutions use authority to override fairness while claiming to speak for “the people.”
Stability depends on shared rules, courtesy, and respect for process. When numbers or power alone dictate outcomes, democracy weakens. Outcomes are important, but processes also should be respected.
On that bridge, a younger version of myself might have reacted differently. Yet the moment offered a quiet reminder of deeper truths about governance, fairness, and human behaviour.
