News / National
What the hack is an 'upper middle-income society', Mr. Mnangagwa?
27 Jan 2025 at 18:02hrs | Views
Let's be careful of trickery.
When President Emmerson Mnangagwa began his first five-year term in 2018, he introduced an economic program called "Vision 2030."
This vision promised Zimbabweans an "upper middle-income society by 2030."
To achieve this, his administration implemented the "National Development Strategy 1" (NDS1), which was touted as the pathway to this promised prosperity.
In statements from his government, the people of Zimbabwe have been assured of a "prosperous life" by 2030.
Yet, this same "Vision 2030" has now become the pretext for attempts by a faction within the ruling ZANU-PF party to push for constitutional amendments to extend Mnangagwa's presidency beyond the two five-year terms he is constitutionally allowed.
His supporters argue that he must remain in power until at least 2030 to "see through his Vision 2030."
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
However, the glaring issue is: what exactly does this "upper middle-income society" mean?
What does it entail, and how will it change the lives of ordinary Zimbabweans?
My elderly uncle in rural Rusape, for instance, has lived a poor peasant existence for as long as he can remember.
His family has been subsisting on barren land that yields little, relying on government aid for survival.
How will this "upper middle-income society" transform his life?
What about the people in resource-rich regions such as Marange, Binga, Mutoko, and Bikita, where vast reserves of key minerals are being extracted while the local populations wallow in abject poverty?
Will this vision finally ensure that their communities benefit from the resources in their backyard?
Will their homes, schools, and hospitals experience meaningful improvements and be comparable with those in "economically developed countries" by 2030?
The same questions apply to urban Zimbabweans, who face chronic unemployment, water shortages, power outages, and skyrocketing poverty.
How does this promised prosperity translate into reality for them?
The fundamental issue is the vagueness of this vision.
The Mnangagwa administration has failed to define what an "upper middle-income society" really means.
It is a nebulous and ill-defined concept that appears to have no foundation in recognized global economic classifications.
What the economics world knows and understands is the term "upper middle-income economy."
This is a measurable classification based on the World Bank's system, which categorizes economies into low-income, lower middle-income, upper middle-income, and high-income groups.
These classifications are based on the Gross National Income (GNI) per capita.
For a country to be considered an upper middle-income economy, its GNI per capita must fall between $4,256 and $13,205.
This classification relies on tangible, measurable economic data and benchmarks that assess the wealth generated within a country.
The Zimbabwean government, however, has coined a term that seems intentionally ambiguous: "upper middle-income society."
Internationally, income categorization is applied to economies, not societies, based on measurable criteria.
Unlike an economy, a society cannot be quantified using economic indicators such as GNI, GDP, or poverty rates.
When the Zimbabwean government refers to an "upper middle-income society," they seem to be intentionally blurring the line between measurable economic development and abstract societal well-being.
This deliberate linguistic shift allows the government to present a vague and intangible goal while evading accountability for achieving measurable progress.
By adopting such a term, the Mnangagwa administration creates an illusion of aspiration.
Citizens are led to believe that their lives will somehow improve by 2030, even though there are no clear metrics to measure this supposed progress.
It becomes impossible to hold the government accountable because there are no tangible benchmarks.
How do you measure whether a society has become "upper middle-income"?
This ambiguity is not accidental; it is strategic.
It gives the government leeway to claim success based on vague improvements in infrastructure or social services, even if the majority of citizens remain impoverished.
That's why, in the feverish push to extend Mnangagwa's term in office, his supporters are talking about road rehabilitation, expansion of airports and border posts, an addition of a measly two units at Hwange Power Station, and a donation from China of a parliament building.
No where do they talk about an actual improvement in the wellbeing and standard of living of ordinary Zimbabweans.
This avoids confronting the harsh economic realities of Zimbabwe, such as industrial collapse, widespread unemployment, and growing inequality.
This rhetoric serves as a tool of deception, designed to confuse the public.
The term "upper middle-income society" sounds impressive, but it is a hollow promise.
It shifts the focus from concrete economic targets to an abstract ideal that cannot be defined or measured.
What does this mean for ordinary Zimbabweans?
My uncle in Rusape cannot relate to abstract rhetoric.
He wants to know if his family will have access to better healthcare, education, and livelihoods by 2030.
Teachers, nurses, and other public servants want to know if their salaries will increase to sustainable levels.
Urban residents want assurances of reliable water and electricity supplies.
Yet, there is no clarity on how this vision translates into real-life benefits.
What does it mean to be prosperous by 2030?
Does it mean that the average Zimbabwean household will no longer struggle to put food on the table?
Does it mean that the millions living below the poverty line will rise above it?
With only five years left until 2030, the answers to these questions are more critical than ever.
If Vision 2030 were a genuine plan for uplifting Zimbabweans, we should already be seeing tangible progress.
Poverty rates should be declining, unemployment levels should be dropping, and the cost of living should be stabilizing.
Instead, the opposite is true.
More Zimbabweans are falling into poverty, companies are closing, leading to increased unemployment, and inflation continues to erode the value of incomes.
At the current poverty and unemployment rates of over 70% and 90%, respectively, there has not been any improvement over the past few years.
If anything, these statistics have worsened.
So, how will Zimbabweans become prosperous by 2030 when we are actually regressing?
The so-called "Vision 2030" is not about the people of Zimbabwe.
It is about Mnangagwa's political ambitions.
This grand vision has been repackaged to justify extending his stay in office under the pretense of seeing it through to completion.
This explains why there has been little to no effort to define what an "upper middle-income society" entails.
If the vision were clear and measurable, it would be easier for citizens to hold the government accountable. But an abstract and ambiguous promise is the perfect shield for political maneuvering.
With the growing push from Mnangagwa's faction within ZANU-PF to amend the constitution, it is now evident that this vision was never about improving the lives of ordinary Zimbabweans.
From the onset, it was always about creating a narrative to extend his hold on power.
Zimbabweans deserve better.
They deserve leaders who articulate clear, measurable, and achievable goals.
They deserve transparency and accountability.
Vision 2030, as it stands, is a smokescreen.
It is a deceptive ploy to buy time and justify Mnangagwa's continued rule.
Instead of focusing on rhetoric, Zimbabweans should demand concrete answers.
What specific improvements can they expect by 2030?
How will these changes be measured?
How will Vision 2030 address the root causes of poverty, unemployment, and inequality, which, in most cases, is rampant corruption, particularly by the ruling elite?
The people of Zimbabwe cannot afford to be misled by vague promises.
The time for empty rhetoric is over.
With five years left, it is clear that Vision 2030 is not a roadmap to prosperity but a tool for political manipulation.
If Mnangagwa's faction succeeds in pushing for constitutional amendments, Zimbabweans must resist with even greater vigor.
This so-called vision is not about them.
It never was.
It is about one man's ambition to stay in power at all costs.
© Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to WhatsApp or Call: +263715667700 | +263782283975, or email: mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com, or visit website: https://mbofanatendairuben.news.blog/
When President Emmerson Mnangagwa began his first five-year term in 2018, he introduced an economic program called "Vision 2030."
This vision promised Zimbabweans an "upper middle-income society by 2030."
To achieve this, his administration implemented the "National Development Strategy 1" (NDS1), which was touted as the pathway to this promised prosperity.
In statements from his government, the people of Zimbabwe have been assured of a "prosperous life" by 2030.
Yet, this same "Vision 2030" has now become the pretext for attempts by a faction within the ruling ZANU-PF party to push for constitutional amendments to extend Mnangagwa's presidency beyond the two five-year terms he is constitutionally allowed.
His supporters argue that he must remain in power until at least 2030 to "see through his Vision 2030."
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
However, the glaring issue is: what exactly does this "upper middle-income society" mean?
What does it entail, and how will it change the lives of ordinary Zimbabweans?
My elderly uncle in rural Rusape, for instance, has lived a poor peasant existence for as long as he can remember.
His family has been subsisting on barren land that yields little, relying on government aid for survival.
How will this "upper middle-income society" transform his life?
What about the people in resource-rich regions such as Marange, Binga, Mutoko, and Bikita, where vast reserves of key minerals are being extracted while the local populations wallow in abject poverty?
Will this vision finally ensure that their communities benefit from the resources in their backyard?
Will their homes, schools, and hospitals experience meaningful improvements and be comparable with those in "economically developed countries" by 2030?
The same questions apply to urban Zimbabweans, who face chronic unemployment, water shortages, power outages, and skyrocketing poverty.
How does this promised prosperity translate into reality for them?
The fundamental issue is the vagueness of this vision.
The Mnangagwa administration has failed to define what an "upper middle-income society" really means.
It is a nebulous and ill-defined concept that appears to have no foundation in recognized global economic classifications.
What the economics world knows and understands is the term "upper middle-income economy."
This is a measurable classification based on the World Bank's system, which categorizes economies into low-income, lower middle-income, upper middle-income, and high-income groups.
These classifications are based on the Gross National Income (GNI) per capita.
For a country to be considered an upper middle-income economy, its GNI per capita must fall between $4,256 and $13,205.
This classification relies on tangible, measurable economic data and benchmarks that assess the wealth generated within a country.
The Zimbabwean government, however, has coined a term that seems intentionally ambiguous: "upper middle-income society."
Internationally, income categorization is applied to economies, not societies, based on measurable criteria.
Unlike an economy, a society cannot be quantified using economic indicators such as GNI, GDP, or poverty rates.
When the Zimbabwean government refers to an "upper middle-income society," they seem to be intentionally blurring the line between measurable economic development and abstract societal well-being.
This deliberate linguistic shift allows the government to present a vague and intangible goal while evading accountability for achieving measurable progress.
By adopting such a term, the Mnangagwa administration creates an illusion of aspiration.
Citizens are led to believe that their lives will somehow improve by 2030, even though there are no clear metrics to measure this supposed progress.
It becomes impossible to hold the government accountable because there are no tangible benchmarks.
How do you measure whether a society has become "upper middle-income"?
This ambiguity is not accidental; it is strategic.
It gives the government leeway to claim success based on vague improvements in infrastructure or social services, even if the majority of citizens remain impoverished.
That's why, in the feverish push to extend Mnangagwa's term in office, his supporters are talking about road rehabilitation, expansion of airports and border posts, an addition of a measly two units at Hwange Power Station, and a donation from China of a parliament building.
No where do they talk about an actual improvement in the wellbeing and standard of living of ordinary Zimbabweans.
This avoids confronting the harsh economic realities of Zimbabwe, such as industrial collapse, widespread unemployment, and growing inequality.
This rhetoric serves as a tool of deception, designed to confuse the public.
The term "upper middle-income society" sounds impressive, but it is a hollow promise.
It shifts the focus from concrete economic targets to an abstract ideal that cannot be defined or measured.
What does this mean for ordinary Zimbabweans?
My uncle in Rusape cannot relate to abstract rhetoric.
He wants to know if his family will have access to better healthcare, education, and livelihoods by 2030.
Teachers, nurses, and other public servants want to know if their salaries will increase to sustainable levels.
Urban residents want assurances of reliable water and electricity supplies.
Yet, there is no clarity on how this vision translates into real-life benefits.
What does it mean to be prosperous by 2030?
Does it mean that the average Zimbabwean household will no longer struggle to put food on the table?
Does it mean that the millions living below the poverty line will rise above it?
With only five years left until 2030, the answers to these questions are more critical than ever.
If Vision 2030 were a genuine plan for uplifting Zimbabweans, we should already be seeing tangible progress.
Poverty rates should be declining, unemployment levels should be dropping, and the cost of living should be stabilizing.
Instead, the opposite is true.
More Zimbabweans are falling into poverty, companies are closing, leading to increased unemployment, and inflation continues to erode the value of incomes.
At the current poverty and unemployment rates of over 70% and 90%, respectively, there has not been any improvement over the past few years.
If anything, these statistics have worsened.
So, how will Zimbabweans become prosperous by 2030 when we are actually regressing?
The so-called "Vision 2030" is not about the people of Zimbabwe.
It is about Mnangagwa's political ambitions.
This grand vision has been repackaged to justify extending his stay in office under the pretense of seeing it through to completion.
This explains why there has been little to no effort to define what an "upper middle-income society" entails.
If the vision were clear and measurable, it would be easier for citizens to hold the government accountable. But an abstract and ambiguous promise is the perfect shield for political maneuvering.
With the growing push from Mnangagwa's faction within ZANU-PF to amend the constitution, it is now evident that this vision was never about improving the lives of ordinary Zimbabweans.
From the onset, it was always about creating a narrative to extend his hold on power.
Zimbabweans deserve better.
They deserve leaders who articulate clear, measurable, and achievable goals.
They deserve transparency and accountability.
Vision 2030, as it stands, is a smokescreen.
It is a deceptive ploy to buy time and justify Mnangagwa's continued rule.
Instead of focusing on rhetoric, Zimbabweans should demand concrete answers.
What specific improvements can they expect by 2030?
How will these changes be measured?
How will Vision 2030 address the root causes of poverty, unemployment, and inequality, which, in most cases, is rampant corruption, particularly by the ruling elite?
The people of Zimbabwe cannot afford to be misled by vague promises.
The time for empty rhetoric is over.
With five years left, it is clear that Vision 2030 is not a roadmap to prosperity but a tool for political manipulation.
If Mnangagwa's faction succeeds in pushing for constitutional amendments, Zimbabweans must resist with even greater vigor.
This so-called vision is not about them.
It never was.
It is about one man's ambition to stay in power at all costs.
© Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to WhatsApp or Call: +263715667700 | +263782283975, or email: mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com, or visit website: https://mbofanatendairuben.news.blog/
Source - Tendai Ruben Mbofana
