Breaking the Culture of Silence:
A Reflection on Tough Conversations in the Tanzanian Community.
"That which nourishes me also destroys me" is a statement I often find myself stating. I cannot even recall when it first became a personal mark for me. I think it is Latin; nevertheless, it makes more and more sense to me every day. Being Tanzanian- American, I often find myself caught between two worlds. On one hand, I come from a beautiful, rich culture — one filled with warmth, pride, resilience, and history. On the other hand, as Tanzanians, I have also inherited unhealthy patterns: fear, silence, passive-aggressiveness, and fakery disguised as "respect."
Sadly, these behaviors threaten the very health and growth of my community.
This past weekend, I found myself breaking the culture of silence within our Tanzanian community during a discussion hosted by the Tanzanian Community Association (TCA). For those unfamiliar, TCA is an association created to support Tanzanians living in the Midwest — providing community, resources, and a sense of belonging. It’s a powerful and necessary organization that has done a lot to keep our people connected and empowered.
Information had been shared in a public forum regarding certain community matters. As I listened and observed, it became clear that important questions were not ask— perhaps out of fear, or perhaps from an ingrained habit of "not rocking the boat."
But silence, especially in moments where transparency and accountability are needed, is a form of complicity.
In that moment, I decided to ask the tough questions. I challenged the familiar narrative of 'everything is fine,' even when it was clear that deeper conversations were long overdue. In doing so, it became even more apparent how deeply culture influences our silence — revealing the tension between 'honoring our roots' and perpetuating harmful behaviors disguised as tradition. AND, personally I refuse to engage in behavior that silences truth and / or covers reality.
One of the subtle but powerful ways people in my community silence others is by saying things like, "Well, you should be in leadership," or "Why don’t you serve in leadership?" — as if holding a title automatically makes someone a leader.
Leadership is not defined by a position or a title. True leadership is about action, influence, and service — with or without an official role.
Just because someone does not have an official title does not mean they are not leading or making meaningful contributions.
Personally, I am in the field daily — taking risks, making myself vulnerable for my community and for those in marginalized spaces. I do this work not for recognition, but because it matters. The absence of a formal title does not invalidate my right to ask hard questions or to contribute thoughtfully to community conversations and decisions.
Unfortunately, this kind of pushback of questioning a person's legitimacy based on their title is a classic form of deflection, gaslighting, and passive-aggressiveness. In my community these tactics have been mastered to the point where they are almost normalized. But it’s time to call it out and end it once and for all.
Another harmful trend is the mediocre acceptance of excellence. Just because current leadership is performing better than previous leadership does not mean we should settle or refuse to challenge them.
Growth requires accountability. Excellence demands that we push ourselves and our leaders to do better not simply rest on progress made. Communities thrive when they welcome voices from every corner not just from those with titles
— and when they create a culture where excellence is not only accepted but expected.
Let’s not bring a culture of silence and fear into spaces that are meant to uplift and empower us and not in the name of "tradition,"
and certainly not at the expense of truth and progress.
There is a way to honor culture while also evolving. It starts with asking hard questions, standing firm in integrity, and that
respect is rooted in honesty, not fear.
I'd love to hear your thoughts:
Have you ever felt torn between honoring your culture and challenging harmful patterns within it?
How do you personally navigate those difficult moments of truth-telling?
xo,
Rahel