When reporting becomes dangerous, the public loses access to information.
Across East and Southern Africa, the space for independent journalism has contracted sharply, as governments deploy the full weight of legal, digital, and physical coercion against those who report on power. Amnesty International's documentation ahead of World Press Freedom Day reveals not a series of isolated incidents but a coordinated regional pattern — one that intensifies precisely during elections, when the public's need to know is greatest. The absence of accountability for perpetrators transforms each act of repression into an invitation for the next, leaving truth-telling itself as the offense most reliably punished.
- Journalists across Ethiopia, Tanzania, Uganda, Zimbabwe, DRC, and Mozambique face abduction, detention without charge, physical assault, and forced exile — not as exceptions, but as policy.
- Election cycles have become flashpoints: internet shutdowns, media bans, and license revocations are timed to blind the public precisely when scrutiny of power matters most.
- The legal architecture of repression — cyberbullying statutes, broadcasting regulations, anti-LGBTQI+ laws — is deliberately vague, allowing authorities to criminalize virtually any act of reporting.
- Not a single perpetrator across all documented cases has faced accountability, signaling to security forces and intelligence agencies that attacks on journalists carry no cost.
- Newsrooms already weakened by declining revenues now face state pressure designed to finish what the market began, leaving entire populations without independent sources of information.
Over the past year, governments across East and Southern Africa have moved with deliberate precision to dismantle independent journalism. Amnesty International documented the pattern ahead of World Press Freedom Day, finding that repression has intensified during election cycles — the moments when accountability is most urgently needed and least tolerated by those in power.
The methods vary but the logic is consistent. In Ethiopia, authorities revoked licenses from prominent outlets including Wazema Radio and Addis Standard, and on April 15, 2026, Addis Standard managing editor Million Beyene was abducted by national intelligence agents, held for two weeks in an undisclosed location, and denied contact with his lawyer or family before being released on April 28. In Tanzania, authorities ordered police to conduct digital surveillance of citizens, banned the forum platform JamiiForums for 90 days, and imposed a partial internet shutdown during October's general elections while barring media from covering the human rights situation. Uganda's security forces attacked journalists covering parliamentary by-elections and banned reporters from major outlets from accessing parliament and the presidency; a sweeping anti-LGBTQI+ law has since made entire categories of journalism effectively illegal.
In Zimbabwe, journalist Blessed Mhlanga fled the country after speaking about press repression at an international human rights summit. His colleague Gideon Madzikatidze has been denied bail three times and remains in custody since February 18 after publishing a story about alleged corruption — charged with cyberbullying for reporting online. In the DRC, the armed group M23 has detained and tortured journalists, forcing mass displacement. In Mozambique, security forces arrested sixteen journalists in Cabo Delgado and seized their equipment after they photographed destroyed infrastructure, despite holding prior authorization.
What transforms these episodes into a system is the complete absence of consequences. In every documented case, no perpetrator has been held accountable. Officials, security forces, and intelligence agencies act with impunity, knowing that attacking journalists carries no cost. As Amnesty International's Regional Director Tigere Chagutah stated plainly: journalism is not a crime — yet across the region, governments have made it one. The crackdowns are not incidental to governance; they are a deliberate strategy to prevent scrutiny and consolidate control. And the evidence suggests it is working.
Across East and Southern Africa, the machinery of state repression has tightened around independent journalism over the past year. Governments have moved with calculated precision—revoking broadcast licenses, ordering internet shutdowns, detaining reporters without charge, and weaponizing vague laws to criminalize the act of reporting itself. Amnesty International documented the pattern ahead of World Press Freedom Day, finding that the assault on press freedom has intensified precisely when it matters most: during elections, when accountability is most needed and least tolerated.
The crackdown takes many forms, each designed to isolate journalists from their work and their audience. In Ethiopia, the government has revoked licenses from prominent outlets like Wazema Radio and Addis Standard. On April 15, 2026, Million Beyene, managing editor of Addis Standard, was abducted by members of the national intelligence agency in Addis Ababa. He was held for two weeks in an undisclosed location, denied contact with his lawyer and family, before being released on April 28. His abduction appears directly tied to his journalism. Across the region, similar stories accumulate: journalists detained following unlawful surveillance, reports of enforced disappearances multiplying, the machinery of state power deployed against people whose only crime is reporting facts.
Tanzania has moved aggressively to control the digital sphere. In August 2025, the home affairs minister ordered police to conduct "online patrols" to monitor citizens using digital platforms. By September, the Communications Regulatory Authority banned JamiiForums for 90 days, claiming it published misleading content about the government. During October's general elections, the country imposed a partial internet shutdown and barred both local and international media from covering the human rights situation. In Uganda, security forces attacked dozens of journalists covering parliamentary by-elections in Kampala in March 2025, then banned reporters from NTV Uganda and the Daily Monitor from covering parliament and the presidency. The 2023 Anti-Homosexuality Act has created a chilling effect across the country, making it illegal to publish or broadcast content about LGBTQI+ issues, effectively criminalizing entire categories of journalism.
In Zimbabwe, journalist Blessed Mhlanga fled the country after speaking about media repression at the Geneva Summit for Human Rights and Democracy in February 2026. Gideon Madzikatidze, a journalist with Bulawayo24, has been held in custody since February 18 after publishing a story about alleged corruption at a waste management company. He was charged with cyberbullying and broadcasting without a license—for publishing online. He has been denied bail three times. In the Democratic Republic of Congo, the armed group M23 has detained, tortured, and threatened journalists, forcing many to flee and creating a climate of fear that shapes coverage across the region. In Mozambique, radio stations critical of the government have been suspended on dubious grounds. In June, security forces arrested 16 journalists in Cabo Delgado and confiscated their equipment after they photographed destroyed infrastructure, despite having prior authorization from the district administrator.
What makes this assault systematic rather than sporadic is the absence of consequences. Amnesty International found that in every documented case of attacks against journalists, no one has been held accountable. Victims are denied access to justice and effective remedies. The perpetrators—government officials, security forces, intelligence agencies—operate with impunity. This matters not because journalists are special, but because journalism is how the public learns what governments are doing. When reporting becomes dangerous, when the cost of truth-telling is abduction or exile or indefinite detention, the public loses access to information. Corruption goes unchecked. Abuse goes unreported. Power operates in darkness.
Tigere Chagutah, Amnesty International's Regional Director for East and Southern Africa, stated plainly: "Journalism is not a crime." Yet across the region, governments have made it one—through license revocations, through internet shutdowns, through laws so broad and vaguely worded that any reporting can be criminalized. The timing is not accidental. These crackdowns have intensified during election cycles, when independent media might otherwise hold power accountable. They have accelerated as media revenues have declined, leaving newsrooms already fragile and underfunded. The assault on press freedom is not a side effect of governance in East and Southern Africa. It is a deliberate strategy to prevent scrutiny, to silence dissent, to consolidate control. And so far, it is working.
Citas Notables
Governments and non-state actors intensified crackdowns through shutdowns, arrests, and arbitrary detentions, weaponizing criminal justice systems to target journalists and using broad, vaguely worded laws to silence them.— Tigere Chagutah, Amnesty International Regional Director for East and Southern Africa
In all cases of attacks against journalists documented by Amnesty International, no one has been held accountable. Victims continue to be denied access to justice and effective remedies.— Tigere Chagutah, Amnesty International
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does this matter beyond the journalists themselves? They're professionals who knew the risks.
Because journalism is how ordinary people learn what their government is doing. When reporting becomes dangerous, when the cost of truth-telling is abduction, that information disappears. Corruption, abuse, forced evictions—these things still happen, but no one reports them. Power operates in darkness.
But governments say they're protecting security, preventing misinformation. Aren't there legitimate reasons to regulate media?
There are. But notice the pattern here: licenses revoked without process, internet shut down during elections, laws so vague that any reporting can be criminalized. This isn't regulation. This is silencing inconvenient truth.
What's the connection between the elections and the crackdowns?
During elections, independent media might expose corruption, hold candidates accountable, report on irregularities. Governments that want to control outcomes can't tolerate that scrutiny. So they shut down the internet, arrest journalists, ban coverage. The timing is not accidental.
You mentioned impunity. What does that actually mean for the next journalist who wants to report?
It means the person who abducted Million Beyene faces no consequences. It means the next journalist knows this. It means fear becomes the tool of control. People self-censor. Stories don't get reported. The public never learns what happened.
Is there any pushback from within these countries?
Yes, but it's dangerous. Journalists are going into exile, being held without bail, facing charges for publishing facts. The cost of resistance is high. That's the point of impunity—it's meant to be discouraging.
What would actually change this?
Accountability. Someone needs to face consequences. And governments need to understand that controlling information is not the same as controlling reality. The truth has a way of emerging, and the effort to suppress it often reveals more than the truth itself.