Opinion / Columnist
So war veterans get $7.50 whilst Zvigananda walk away with millions!
4 hrs ago | Views
The insults against the people of Zimbabwe continue.
The recent launch of the so-called Presidential War Veterans Fund by the Zimbabwean government exposes the deep contradictions, hypocrisy, and outright disdain with which the country's leadership continues to treat those who fought for its liberation.
Announced by the Secretary for the ZANU-PF War Veterans League, Douglas Mahiya, this $1.5 million initiative is supposedly meant to assist war veterans in venturing into businesses and to help overcome economic problems that are bedevilling them.
However, upon closer scrutiny, this fund is little more than an insult to those who sacrificed everything for Zimbabwe's independence.
It is a transparent ploy to pacify growing dissent among war veterans, who have increasingly been vocal about their betrayal by both Robert Mugabe and Emmerson Mnangagwa, while a select few in power and their well-connected associates continue to amass obscene wealth through dubious deals.
The timing of this fund is suspicious.
For decades, Zimbabwe's war veterans have remained marginalised, neglected, and relegated to the fringes of economic activity despite their role in securing the country's freedom.
Their plight has remained largely unchanged under both Mugabe and Mnangagwa, with successive governments only paying lip service to their welfare when politically expedient.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
This latest initiative reeks of desperation, particularly in light of the growing discontent among war veterans, some of whom, like Blessing Geza, have been openly critical of Mnangagwa's leadership and are strongly opposed to unconstitutional efforts to extend his tenure beyond the two-term limit.
By unveiling this fund now, the government appears to be attempting to neutralise this discontent with a token gesture that is woefully inadequate to address the real struggles faced by the veterans.
Even during the Mugabe era, war veterans were treated as expendable tools, only useful for consolidating political power and then discarded when no longer needed.
In 1996, they were compelled to publicly protest against their abandonment, singing and dancing at the National Heroes Acre in Harare to demand recognition and compensation.
Although their pressure led to the disbursement of some payouts in the late 1990s, these efforts were ultimately undermined by rampant corruption, with most of the funds being looted by those in power.
The pattern has continued under Mnangagwa, where most war veterans still live in poverty, dependent on meagre government handouts that barely sustain them.
This new fund follows the same trajectory, offering an amount so paltry that it only serves to highlight the state's contempt for these heroes.
The reality of Zimbabwe's economic structure under Mnangagwa's rule further underscores this injustice.
While war veterans are being handed crumbs, a small group of politically connected individuals - aptly described by Vice President Constantino Chiwenga as zvigananda - are walking away with millions, if not billions, of dollars through corrupt deals and state patronage.
The man widely credited with spearheading the Presidential War Veterans Fund, Dr. Paul Tungwarara, has himself been accused of trying to fleece the government.
His Paulos Construction company, which won a tender to construct a precast wall around the State House (the president's official residence and office), allegedly placed the cost at a staggering $15 million.
This is the same man whose other company, Prevail International, secured a highly controversial $500 million contract for the planned cyber city in Mt. Hampden.
It was also responsible for the so-called Presidential Boreholes project, which was marred by allegations of inflated costs and irregularities.
Tungwarara is just one example.
The case of convicted fraudster Wicknell Chivayo is even more egregious.
He received a $5 million advance from the Zimbabwe Electricity Supply Authority (ZESA) for a $175 million, 100-megawatt solar power plant in Gwanda - a project that was never delivered, leaving the site completely abandoned and overgrown with vegetation.
This same individual was also involved in a murky $100 million deal with the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission (ZEC) for election materials, many of which reportedly arrived well after the 2023 elections or were never delivered at all.
Meanwhile, he parades his wealth by purchasing luxury vehicles for government officials and other prominent figures, flaunting the extent of his influence within Zimbabwe's corridors of power.
In the face of such rampant looting and state-sanctioned plunder, war veterans are expected to celebrate a measly $1.5 million fund that barely registers in comparison to the illicit fortunes being accumulated by the zvigananda.
The numbers themselves are damning.
Mahiya has already boasted that $150,000 has been allocated to Masvingo province and $100,000 to Mashonaland East.
Yet, when this $1.5 million is divided among the estimated 200,000 surviving war veterans, this fund translates to a mere $7.50 per person.
This is hardly enough to buy a decent meal, let alone launch a business or lift someone out of poverty.
Even if one assumes that this money is not intended to be distributed as direct handouts but rather as a revolving loan fund, the amount is still grossly inadequate.
It raises the inevitable question of whether this scheme is simply another avenue for looting, with funds being channelled to individuals who were never part of the liberation struggle, while the real war veterans continue to languish in destitution.
There is also the glaring issue of the suspiciously inflated number of war veterans in Zimbabwe.
At independence in 1980, both liberation movements estimated the total number of combatants to be around 25,000.
Even when one factors in mujibhas, chimbwidos, detainees, and political prisoners, it is difficult to justify the current official estimate of 200,000 surviving war veterans, especially 45 years after the war.
This discrepancy strongly suggests that the war veterans' register has been deliberately inflated to accommodate individuals who never participated in the struggle, creating a fertile ground for corruption and misappropriation of funds.
This entire charade is nothing more than a calculated political move designed to silence dissent and shore up Mnangagwa's precarious hold on power.
By throwing this paltry sum at war veterans, his administration hopes to quell the growing discontent among them, particularly as their voices have become increasingly loud in opposing the unconstitutional extension of his rule.
Yet, war veterans like Blessing Geza are refusing to be bought off so easily.
They recognise that Mnangagwa's tenure has been marked by unprecedented levels of state capture, economic mismanagement, and widening inequality, with a select few accumulating untold riches while the rest of the country slides deeper into poverty.
It is difficult to comprehend how a government that claims to be committed to honouring its liberators can simultaneously preside over their continued suffering while facilitating the looting of national resources by a privileged few.
Zimbabwe is a country where millions of people struggle daily to afford basic necessities, where over 70% of the population lives below the poverty line, and where public infrastructure is in a state of near-total collapse.
Yet, in this same country, individuals with the right political connections can effortlessly secure multimillion-dollar contracts, siphon public funds with impunity, and flaunt their wealth without consequence.
This is precisely why Mnangagwa's presidency must not be extended by even a single day beyond the constitutional limit.
His rule has entrenched corruption, deepened economic inequalities, and perpetuated the suffering of ordinary Zimbabweans, including the very war veterans he now seeks to pacify with crumbs.
The fight against his continued stay in power is not just a fight for democracy - it is a fight for justice, for accountability, and for the fundamental dignity of the Zimbabwean people.
War veterans who sacrificed their lives for the liberation of this country deserve far better than empty promises and insulting handouts.
They deserve a government that genuinely prioritises the welfare of the ordinary citizenry over the enrichment of a corrupt elite.
Until that happens, no amount of political posturing or token gestures will silence the growing discontent among those who can see through this deception.
© 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/
The recent launch of the so-called Presidential War Veterans Fund by the Zimbabwean government exposes the deep contradictions, hypocrisy, and outright disdain with which the country's leadership continues to treat those who fought for its liberation.
Announced by the Secretary for the ZANU-PF War Veterans League, Douglas Mahiya, this $1.5 million initiative is supposedly meant to assist war veterans in venturing into businesses and to help overcome economic problems that are bedevilling them.
However, upon closer scrutiny, this fund is little more than an insult to those who sacrificed everything for Zimbabwe's independence.
It is a transparent ploy to pacify growing dissent among war veterans, who have increasingly been vocal about their betrayal by both Robert Mugabe and Emmerson Mnangagwa, while a select few in power and their well-connected associates continue to amass obscene wealth through dubious deals.
The timing of this fund is suspicious.
For decades, Zimbabwe's war veterans have remained marginalised, neglected, and relegated to the fringes of economic activity despite their role in securing the country's freedom.
Their plight has remained largely unchanged under both Mugabe and Mnangagwa, with successive governments only paying lip service to their welfare when politically expedient.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
This latest initiative reeks of desperation, particularly in light of the growing discontent among war veterans, some of whom, like Blessing Geza, have been openly critical of Mnangagwa's leadership and are strongly opposed to unconstitutional efforts to extend his tenure beyond the two-term limit.
By unveiling this fund now, the government appears to be attempting to neutralise this discontent with a token gesture that is woefully inadequate to address the real struggles faced by the veterans.
Even during the Mugabe era, war veterans were treated as expendable tools, only useful for consolidating political power and then discarded when no longer needed.
In 1996, they were compelled to publicly protest against their abandonment, singing and dancing at the National Heroes Acre in Harare to demand recognition and compensation.
Although their pressure led to the disbursement of some payouts in the late 1990s, these efforts were ultimately undermined by rampant corruption, with most of the funds being looted by those in power.
The pattern has continued under Mnangagwa, where most war veterans still live in poverty, dependent on meagre government handouts that barely sustain them.
This new fund follows the same trajectory, offering an amount so paltry that it only serves to highlight the state's contempt for these heroes.
The reality of Zimbabwe's economic structure under Mnangagwa's rule further underscores this injustice.
While war veterans are being handed crumbs, a small group of politically connected individuals - aptly described by Vice President Constantino Chiwenga as zvigananda - are walking away with millions, if not billions, of dollars through corrupt deals and state patronage.
The man widely credited with spearheading the Presidential War Veterans Fund, Dr. Paul Tungwarara, has himself been accused of trying to fleece the government.
His Paulos Construction company, which won a tender to construct a precast wall around the State House (the president's official residence and office), allegedly placed the cost at a staggering $15 million.
This is the same man whose other company, Prevail International, secured a highly controversial $500 million contract for the planned cyber city in Mt. Hampden.
It was also responsible for the so-called Presidential Boreholes project, which was marred by allegations of inflated costs and irregularities.
Tungwarara is just one example.
The case of convicted fraudster Wicknell Chivayo is even more egregious.
He received a $5 million advance from the Zimbabwe Electricity Supply Authority (ZESA) for a $175 million, 100-megawatt solar power plant in Gwanda - a project that was never delivered, leaving the site completely abandoned and overgrown with vegetation.
This same individual was also involved in a murky $100 million deal with the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission (ZEC) for election materials, many of which reportedly arrived well after the 2023 elections or were never delivered at all.
Meanwhile, he parades his wealth by purchasing luxury vehicles for government officials and other prominent figures, flaunting the extent of his influence within Zimbabwe's corridors of power.
In the face of such rampant looting and state-sanctioned plunder, war veterans are expected to celebrate a measly $1.5 million fund that barely registers in comparison to the illicit fortunes being accumulated by the zvigananda.
The numbers themselves are damning.
Mahiya has already boasted that $150,000 has been allocated to Masvingo province and $100,000 to Mashonaland East.
Yet, when this $1.5 million is divided among the estimated 200,000 surviving war veterans, this fund translates to a mere $7.50 per person.
This is hardly enough to buy a decent meal, let alone launch a business or lift someone out of poverty.
Even if one assumes that this money is not intended to be distributed as direct handouts but rather as a revolving loan fund, the amount is still grossly inadequate.
It raises the inevitable question of whether this scheme is simply another avenue for looting, with funds being channelled to individuals who were never part of the liberation struggle, while the real war veterans continue to languish in destitution.
There is also the glaring issue of the suspiciously inflated number of war veterans in Zimbabwe.
At independence in 1980, both liberation movements estimated the total number of combatants to be around 25,000.
Even when one factors in mujibhas, chimbwidos, detainees, and political prisoners, it is difficult to justify the current official estimate of 200,000 surviving war veterans, especially 45 years after the war.
This discrepancy strongly suggests that the war veterans' register has been deliberately inflated to accommodate individuals who never participated in the struggle, creating a fertile ground for corruption and misappropriation of funds.
This entire charade is nothing more than a calculated political move designed to silence dissent and shore up Mnangagwa's precarious hold on power.
By throwing this paltry sum at war veterans, his administration hopes to quell the growing discontent among them, particularly as their voices have become increasingly loud in opposing the unconstitutional extension of his rule.
Yet, war veterans like Blessing Geza are refusing to be bought off so easily.
They recognise that Mnangagwa's tenure has been marked by unprecedented levels of state capture, economic mismanagement, and widening inequality, with a select few accumulating untold riches while the rest of the country slides deeper into poverty.
It is difficult to comprehend how a government that claims to be committed to honouring its liberators can simultaneously preside over their continued suffering while facilitating the looting of national resources by a privileged few.
Zimbabwe is a country where millions of people struggle daily to afford basic necessities, where over 70% of the population lives below the poverty line, and where public infrastructure is in a state of near-total collapse.
Yet, in this same country, individuals with the right political connections can effortlessly secure multimillion-dollar contracts, siphon public funds with impunity, and flaunt their wealth without consequence.
This is precisely why Mnangagwa's presidency must not be extended by even a single day beyond the constitutional limit.
His rule has entrenched corruption, deepened economic inequalities, and perpetuated the suffering of ordinary Zimbabweans, including the very war veterans he now seeks to pacify with crumbs.
The fight against his continued stay in power is not just a fight for democracy - it is a fight for justice, for accountability, and for the fundamental dignity of the Zimbabwean people.
War veterans who sacrificed their lives for the liberation of this country deserve far better than empty promises and insulting handouts.
They deserve a government that genuinely prioritises the welfare of the ordinary citizenry over the enrichment of a corrupt elite.
Until that happens, no amount of political posturing or token gestures will silence the growing discontent among those who can see through this deception.
© 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
All articles and letters published on Bulawayo24 have been independently written by members of Bulawayo24's community. The views of users published on Bulawayo24 are therefore their own and do not necessarily represent the views of Bulawayo24. Bulawayo24 editors also reserve the right to edit or delete any and all comments received.
