Until Angola honoured Mwalimu Nyerere’s legacy by naming its newest health facility the President Julius Kambarage Nyerere Burns Hospital, I believed it would be a hard sell to propose that Tanzania name a stadium after Dr Kenneth Kaunda, Zambia’s first president. It is fair to ask: What has Kaunda done for Tanzania? Being present at the hospital’s launch reminded me that national boundaries cannot contain the intertwined nature of Africa’s history.
I once stepped out of a hotel in Maputo to discover that it stood on Avenida Julius Nyerere. Across Africa, cities bear the names of Nkrumah, Kenyatta, Azikiwe, Nasser, Sékou Touré and other leaders who were not nationals of those countries. This is not an African peculiarity. In 2013, Palestine announced that a Ramallah street would be named after Mwalimu Nyerere, although I have not established if it was implemented. African societies have recognised figures beyond their borders, making a leap from naming a street to naming a stadium less unreasonable.
Rather than ask what Kaunda did for Tanzania, the question should shift to Zambia’s role in Southern Africa’s liberation struggle. Long before Zambia, Angola, Botswana, Mozambique and Tanzania formally constituted the Frontline States, independent African countries were coordinating support for liberation movements in territories under colonial or minority rule. Zambia, alongside Mozambique and Botswana, was at the forefront. It hosted liberation bases, provided training, diplomatic support and logistical routes. The United Nations estimated the cumulative cost of sanctions against Rhodesia and the closure of Zambia’s southern trade routes at more than US$744 million. The human cost was also significant, as Rhodesian and South African forces repeatedly attacked Zambia, killing civilians on Zambian soil.
Mwalimu Nyerere was a Tanzanian leader, but, as Angola has reminded us, his historical significance extends beyond Tanzania. Similarly, Kaunda was Zambian, but his legacy extends beyond Zambia. The TAZARA railway linking Dar es Salaam and Kapiri Mposhi, and the extraordinary symbolism of Tanzania and Zambia sharing a national anthem, remain reminders of the strong ties binding the two countries.
The southern African liberation struggle was fundamentally transnational; inevitably, our memorial landscape should reflect that shared history.
Those who argue that Tanzania should look inward are both right and wrong. We should honour our own heroes before looking elsewhere, but that should not narrow our understanding of national memory. Tanzania can honour its heroes while recognising Africans whose sacrifices helped shape our continent. How we name public spaces reveals how broadly we understand Africa’s shared history.
