Asianet Pakistan Private Limited

A few weeks ago, I came across a striking headline in The Citizen: ‘Tanzania begins bold journey towards a $1 trillion economy by 2050.’ I read it twice to make sure I had not misunderstood it. I had not.

My first reaction was that the headline was probably designed to attract attention and that the article itself would provide a more cautious analysis. Instead, it presented the $1 trillion target as a serious national objective.

According to the report, the announcement was made by the Permanent Secretary in the President’s Office-Planning Commission, who also serves as the Executive Secretary of the Planning Commission, during a forum at the United Nations headquarters in New York.

Tanzania, the report stated, aims to become an upper-middle-income economy by 2050, with a real gross domestic product (GDP) of $1 trillion, per capita income above $7,000, and the elimination of poverty.

The vision behind this goal is understandable. Tanzania wants to move away from dependence on exporting raw materials and towards a more productive economy driven by manufacturing, technology, value addition, and stronger linkages between local producers and domestic, regional, and global markets.

These are worthwhile objectives. In fact, Tanzania has been discussing this kind of economic transformation since independence.

The problem is not ambition. The problem is that the arithmetic does not add up. Economic aspirations must be measured against economic realities. Based on Tanzania’s current real GDP and historical growth performance, a $1 trillion real economy by 2050 is not achievable.

Between 2000 and 2025, Tanzania’s real GDP increased from approximately $18.5 billion to $79 billion, representing average annual growth of about 6 percent. Maintaining this pace over the next 25 years would already be a significant accomplishment.

Even if Tanzania accelerated its growth rate to 7 percent annually-a highly ambitious assumption-real GDP would reach only about $428 billion by 2050, less than half of the announced target.

To achieve a $1 trillion real GDP by 2050, Tanzania would need to sustain annual growth of roughly 11.2 percent for the next quarter century. That would place the country among the fastest-growing economies in modern history.

A few countries have achieved double-digit growth for extended periods, but such experiences have usually depended on exceptional circumstances, including major structural changes, unusually high investment rates, rapid productivity gains, and favourable global conditions.

For Tanzania to achieve such a transformation, it would need far more than policy statements. It would require a dramatic improvement in productivity, education and skills development, infrastructure, technological capacity, governance, private-sector competitiveness, and the overall investment climate. These are precisely the areas where sustained progress matters most.

Long-term economic targets also raise an important question of accountability. Those who announce ambitious targets decades into the future are unlikely to be the same officials responsible for explaining why those targets were or were not achieved.

This creates a risk that governments may announce impressive numbers without clearly explaining the assumptions behind them. Long-term visions are important, but they must be accompanied by transparent projections, measurable milestones, and regular public evaluation.

None of this means Tanzania should abandon ambitious development goals. A country needs a vision of where it wants to go. Tanzania should continue investing in industrialization, human capital, innovation, and productive sectors that can raise living standards and create opportunities for its people.

But ambition must be matched with realism. Unrealistic targets can create false expectations and distract from the difficult reforms required to achieve sustainable growth.

Credible economic planning is not about lowering aspirations; it is about understanding the scale of the challenge and designing policies that can deliver realistic results.

Tanzania has strong reasons to be optimistic about its future. Its young population, natural resources, strategic location, and economic potential provide a solid foundation for growth. But optimism is most valuable when it is grounded in evidence.

A nation’s economic future should be built on achievable goals, not just impressive numbers.

You are tired, having been out of town, where, with certain scribbling colleagues, you undertook some mentally draining tasks.

You’re now at your peripheral side of Dar City, having dropped off a daladala and headed straight to your inner locality, which is ‘blessed’ with a whole four drinking joints, each with a quality of its own.

These are your drinking places of choice after sunset, since each of them is just a short walking distance to the place you call kwangu.

You prefer them because, even if you, in the unlikely event, degenerate into a drunken geezer, you could still stagger safely home.

A quick check-out makes you choose the bar with the least noise. You hate noise… very much so! Ageing has done its bit with your eardrums, and you don’t want to worsen that by being a customer in avoidable noisy environments.

That is why you walk to this one which, its lack of vibe notwithstanding, entertains drinkers with tolerable noise (sorry, music).

You notice there are just a few patrons occupying three of the seven tables that furnish this joint. The kitchen lady welcomes you and asks if you would like her to prepare for you some mishkaki, and you tell her, ‘No, thank you.’ You proceed to where the sole mhudumu for vinywaji is seated with a customer. Like her customer, she has a beer before her.

She says karibu, without bothering to stand up and suggest to you where you should sit.

You consider that basic because, even at home, you normally stand up to usher in your visitor and direct them to where they should sit, even when they’re little children who call you Babu.

She repeats, ‘Karibu…sit anywhere, mzee.’ She says that while picking her teeth with her small finger’s nail. Or maybe she is eating her nails, as is common with many people these days even when they walk on the street. Kula kucha!

It amuses and disappoints you that she cannot realise you aren’t taking a seat because you want her to show courtesy first.

You’re a senior citizen, and you always feel obliged to see to it that our youth in Bongo conduct themselves in ways that will enable them to withstand foreign competition once the East African Community becomes an open job market to all and sundry from the region.

She even continues to drink, straight from her small bottle, as you remain standing, waiting for her to pick herself up, lead you to a table, make you sit down and ask you, ‘Unakunywa nini mzee wangu?’

It is clear that won’t happen, so you turn around and start walking out of the place. That is when the mhudumu stands up sharply and asks, ‘Mzee, how come you’re leaving…kwani, what beer should I serve you…please don’t go away…”

You ignore her and proceed to another bar that is some metres away. Here you head straight to the counter, where you get engrossed in the newspaper you are carrying as you enjoy your beer. You psych your brain to shut out the noise from huge speakers hanging above your head to the right.

You take your usual three warm ones, pay Rukia the akaunta and walk away without even saying goodbye to her because, even if you bothered to say kwaheri, she wouldn’t hear you.