Tanzania’s digital nightmare: The dark side of campus love gone wrong

The relationship ended months ago, but the nightmares linger.

Her ex-partner released the video online (WhatsApp) groups.

“I lost everything,” she says softly.

“I don’t go out anymore. My grades dropped. I had to leave campus for a while.”

Judith is not alone.

She is one of many young people whose lives have taken a dark turn due to the sharing of intimate images that have ended up online without their consent.

In a recent survey conducted by The Citizen, cases like Judith’s are on the rise across Tanzanian universities, including the University of Dodoma (UDOM), University of Dar es Salaam (UDSM), Mzumbe University, Sokoine University of Agriculture (SUA) and the College of Business Education in Dar es Salaam that the survey was conducted.

These stories tell of betrayal, broken trust, and the devastating impact that digital intimacy can have when used as a weapon.

Campus love, often marked by excitement and trust, is taking on a dangerous twist in today’s digital age.

Many young couples, or cohabiters, share intimate videos or photos, believing that their partners will keep these moments private.

However, the unfortunate reality is that these videos and photos often resurface online, especially after breakups, leading to deep emotional scars, academic setbacks, and in some cases, the destruction of future careers.

James Magasha, 25, (another pseudonym), a former student at Mzumbe University, recalls the fallout after his intimate photos were leaked by an ex-girlfriend.

"I trusted her, and she trusted me, or so I thought,” he says.

“When we broke up, I didn’t think she would do this to me. Now, it feels like everyone knows my secrets."

The public exposure led James to leave university temporarily, avoid social gatherings, and even lose touch with close friends.

Emotional and psychological toll

Psychologists warn that the psychological effects of such betrayals are often severe, leading to anxiety, depression and in some cases, suicidal thoughts.

“The trauma from having intimate images shared without consent is real,” says a psychologist based in Dar es Salaam, Dr Martha Njau.

“Victims often isolate themselves, become distrustful of relationships, and sometimes abandon their academic or professional pursuits due to shame and embarrassment,” she adds.

The lasting impacts are not limited to campus life.

Some victims move out of their hometowns entirely, hoping to escape the judgment they face from society.

Families are deeply affected too, with some parents abandoning long-held hopes for their children’s future.

“We had dreams for her,” says one parent, who spoke anonymously about her daughter’s ordeal at University of Dar es Salaam (UDSM).

“Now, she barely leaves her room.”

In Tanzania, the Cybercrimes Act of 2015, specifically Section 14, imposes severe penalties on those who publish or cause the publication of pornography.

Offenders can face a fine of at least Sh20 million or a minimum of ten years in prison.

Section 27 also penalises anyone who conspires to commit such offenses.

Despite these provisions, legal experts argue that there is an urgent need for more accessible avenues for victims to report these incidents safely.

An advocate, Joseph Masawe explains that most victims fear coming forward.

“They worry about being labelled as offenders themselves since they allowed the images to be taken, and many are also deterred by social stigma.”

Cybersecurity expert Omar Said suggests that awareness programmes in universities could help students understand the risks associated with sharing intimate content, especially the first year cohorts.

“It’s about educating students on digital boundaries and the potential long-term consequences of sharing personal content,” he says.

However, legal redress remains challenging.

“When we advise people, we tell them not to take intimate images or share them,” says one counselor.

“The law may protect them, but it’s not easy to erase something once it’s online.”

A cross-section of experiences

Sarah, a third-year student at SUA, was married when her husband began demanding explicit photos while she was away for school.

“I thought it was harmless, a way to keep our connection strong despite the distance,” she recalls.

However, after a bitter argument, he posted the photos online, and her life crumbled.

“I’m seen as ‘damaged goods’ by my peers. Even though he took them down, the internet never forgets,” she says, her voice filled with regret.

The issue cuts across genders and marital status, but women, particularly, bear a heavier societal burden.

Once exposed, many feel like they’ve lost their entire future.

For married students like Sarah, the stigma is compounded, as they are often seen as having ‘shamed’ their families.

Other countries have taken strides in addressing the issue.

In the United Kingdom, for instance, the “Revenge Porn Helpline” offers a confidential service to victims, helping them navigate the legal process and take down non-consensual images.

The US has also introduced stringent revenge porn laws that provide substantial protection to victims, with some states providing civil remedies.

“There’s a lesson in how other countries have tackled this problem,” notes Dr Njau.

“Creating support systems and helplines, offering psychological assistance, and implementing rapid takedown measures are essential steps that Tanzania could emulate to safeguard our young people. Some can even be set in campuses.”

As digital intimacy grows increasingly common, experts insist that education around digital safety is crucial.

"We can’t ignore the fact that young people will continue to form relationships, often in ways influenced by technology," says cybersecurity expert Omar Said.

"But we need to emphasise the long-term impact and the real consequences of sharing private content."

The damage from a single moment of digital intimacy shared with the wrong person can last a lifetime.

Many victims lose their dreams, and in some cases, their will to move forward, overshadowed by a mistake they may never be able to erase.

For students across Tanzanian universities and beyond, it’s a painful reminder that in matters of trust, particularly online, caution is key.

As Judith tearfully concludes, “I thought he loved me. Now, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe again.”