Opinion / Columnist
Geza is mobilizing the wrong Zimbabweans for mass action
3 hrs ago | Views
HERE are more truths we need to understand as Zimbabweans.
During the recent Easter holidays, war veteran, former ZANU-PF Central Committee member, and former Member of Parliament Blessed Geza called for a national stayaway.
He urged Zimbabweans across the country to remain in their homes on designated days, effectively shutting down the nation through the peaceful yet powerful act of collective inaction.
His demand was clear: President Emmerson Mnangagwa must resign, and a slew of individuals identified as "Zvigananda" - those allegedly facilitating or directly involved in the looting of Zimbabwe's national resources - must be arrested and prosecuted.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
Geza laid bare the rot festering at the core of Zimbabwe's governance.
He accused top officials in government, ZANU-PF, and business of orchestrating a grand-scale plunder of the country's wealth through opaque procurement processes, inflated tenders, and fraudulent contracts where goods are not delivered or are substandard.
This bleeding of national coffers has left the country teetering on the edge of total collapse, with disintegrating infrastructure, non-functional hospitals, collapsing education, and over 80% of the population wallowing in poverty.
Under Mnangagwa's rule, Geza argued, corruption has reached unprecedented levels - so much so that Zimbabwe was ranked the most corrupt country in southern Africa by Transparency International in 2024, with a dismal score of 21 out of 100.
Yet, on April 22, the first day of the planned stayaway, Zimbabwe's towns and cities were bustling with activity.
Commuters flooded the streets.
Shops opened.
Vendors sold their wares.
Buses ran.
Zimbabweans, it appeared, had flatly ignored the call to action.
It's a scene that baffles the conscience.
How can a people so visibly brutalized by systemic theft and state failure appear so indifferent to a call aimed at dismantling the very system responsible for their suffering?
It is easy, and perhaps even tempting, to dismiss Zimbabweans as passive, disinterested, or complicit in their own misery.
Some might even go as far as saying they deserve the pain they endure.
Why would a people, facing unrelenting poverty, joblessness of over 95%, and a collapsed public health system, not seize a moment that could spark change - even if that merely means staying home for a day or two?
That sentiment, however justified it may seem on the surface, is a simplistic reading of a much deeper, more complex societal reality.
The truth is, Geza's call for mass action - though noble, necessary, and grounded in truth - was fundamentally misdirected.
He mobilized the wrong Zimbabweans.
In relying on YouTube and social media to disseminate his message, Geza inadvertently narrowed his audience to a segment of Zimbabweans who, although struggling, still have some economic or social buffer.
Owning a smartphone, affording data bundles, and having the leisure to stream YouTube videos are not insignificant privileges in a country with such dire economic inequality.
This segment of society may indeed be affected by the ongoing crisis, but they are not the ones who have truly hit rock bottom.
Their poverty is relative.
These are individuals who can still afford to hustle, send children to school - however poorly resourced those schools might be - and occasionally get medical attention, however limited.
For them, a stayaway represents a real loss: a missed sale, a lost client, or a foregone dollar.
Even when they support the call for change in principle, they may not be willing to make the short-term sacrifices required to attain it.
Over time, these Zimbabweans have become desensitized to hardship.
They have normalized their own suffering and learned to survive in a failed state.
They queue for hours for water, seek treatment in under-resourced hospitals, and hustle relentlessly just to stay afloat.
Their energies are consumed by daily survival.
Asking them to give up the little they have today, even for the promise of a better tomorrow, is a tough sell.
This pattern extends to the leadership of the political opposition.
Many opposition leaders are not exactly living in penury.
They are well-established lawyers, professionals, and businesspeople.
They enjoy relative privilege and comfort and are, for the most part, risk-averse.
They will not trade their freedom, livelihoods, or lifestyles to lead mass action from the front, particularly when the Mnangagwa regime has a well-documented track record of persecuting dissenters.
Arrest without trial, prolonged detention, and state-sponsored harassment are real threats.
And most are unwilling to swap their plush homes for prison cells, no matter how just the cause may be.
Moreover, a significant portion of online support for Geza came from Zimbabweans in the diaspora - patriotic and passionate, yes - but far removed from the action on the ground.
They can share videos, comment passionately, and spread the word online, but they are not present to shut down the streets of Harare, Bulawayo, or Mutare.
Their solidarity is important but insufficient without corresponding action from those within the country.
Zimbabwe's real revolutionaries - the ones who truly have nothing left to lose - are not on YouTube.
They don't have smartphones, and if they do, they certainly can't afford enough data to stream videos.
They didn't hear Geza's call because no one reached them.
These are the rural poor, the urban destitute, the forgotten millions in the townships and farming communities.
These are the people who go to bed hungry every night, whose children dropped out of school, and who watch their loved ones die at home because they cannot access healthcare.
These are the Zimbabweans who, just like during the liberation struggle, are ready to put everything on the line because they already lost everything.
These are the people whose grandparents were recruited into the nationalist movements of the 1960s and 70s - people who were prepared to die for the dream of a better future.
That demographic has not vanished.
It still exists today, in the rural villages, in the informal settlements, in the neglected corners of our country where neither electricity, water, nor hope reaches.
Geza's mistake was to overlook this demographic.
His strategy, while commendable, lacked a ground game.
No revolution can be waged solely on the internet.
Geza, as a former freedom fighter himself, should intimately understand this dynamic.
During the liberation struggle, the mobilization of the masses was not achieved through the ZANLA broadcasts on Radio Maputo alone, but through direct engagement with the people.
The guerrillas embedded themselves within the rural communities, living among them and building trust.
They held night vigils - mapungwe - where villagers were conscientized on the injustices they faced, the history of their subjugation, and the urgent need to fight for freedom.
It was this grassroots connection that galvanized thousands to take up the cause, often at great personal risk.
That same spirit, that same strategy of face-to-face engagement and ideological education, must be revived if any meaningful mass movement is to be built in today's Zimbabwe.
Real mobilization requires boots on the ground, face-to-face conversations, door-to-door organizing, and the reawakening of the fighting spirit in those whose backs have long been broken by tyranny and theft.
To effect real change in Zimbabwe, the struggle must return to the grassroots.
It must find its voice not in air-conditioned lounges or Wi-Fi-powered chatrooms, but in the hunger-stricken stomachs and dust-covered streets of the truly dispossessed.
The message must reach them - not in English, not through hashtags, but in their language, in their reality.
Until that happens, calls for mass action, no matter how valid, will continue to echo in cyberspace, unheard and unheeded by those with the power to change the course of history.
● 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/
During the recent Easter holidays, war veteran, former ZANU-PF Central Committee member, and former Member of Parliament Blessed Geza called for a national stayaway.
He urged Zimbabweans across the country to remain in their homes on designated days, effectively shutting down the nation through the peaceful yet powerful act of collective inaction.
His demand was clear: President Emmerson Mnangagwa must resign, and a slew of individuals identified as "Zvigananda" - those allegedly facilitating or directly involved in the looting of Zimbabwe's national resources - must be arrested and prosecuted.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
Geza laid bare the rot festering at the core of Zimbabwe's governance.
He accused top officials in government, ZANU-PF, and business of orchestrating a grand-scale plunder of the country's wealth through opaque procurement processes, inflated tenders, and fraudulent contracts where goods are not delivered or are substandard.
This bleeding of national coffers has left the country teetering on the edge of total collapse, with disintegrating infrastructure, non-functional hospitals, collapsing education, and over 80% of the population wallowing in poverty.
Under Mnangagwa's rule, Geza argued, corruption has reached unprecedented levels - so much so that Zimbabwe was ranked the most corrupt country in southern Africa by Transparency International in 2024, with a dismal score of 21 out of 100.
Yet, on April 22, the first day of the planned stayaway, Zimbabwe's towns and cities were bustling with activity.
Commuters flooded the streets.
Shops opened.
Vendors sold their wares.
Buses ran.
Zimbabweans, it appeared, had flatly ignored the call to action.
It's a scene that baffles the conscience.
How can a people so visibly brutalized by systemic theft and state failure appear so indifferent to a call aimed at dismantling the very system responsible for their suffering?
It is easy, and perhaps even tempting, to dismiss Zimbabweans as passive, disinterested, or complicit in their own misery.
Some might even go as far as saying they deserve the pain they endure.
Why would a people, facing unrelenting poverty, joblessness of over 95%, and a collapsed public health system, not seize a moment that could spark change - even if that merely means staying home for a day or two?
That sentiment, however justified it may seem on the surface, is a simplistic reading of a much deeper, more complex societal reality.
The truth is, Geza's call for mass action - though noble, necessary, and grounded in truth - was fundamentally misdirected.
He mobilized the wrong Zimbabweans.
In relying on YouTube and social media to disseminate his message, Geza inadvertently narrowed his audience to a segment of Zimbabweans who, although struggling, still have some economic or social buffer.
Owning a smartphone, affording data bundles, and having the leisure to stream YouTube videos are not insignificant privileges in a country with such dire economic inequality.
This segment of society may indeed be affected by the ongoing crisis, but they are not the ones who have truly hit rock bottom.
Their poverty is relative.
These are individuals who can still afford to hustle, send children to school - however poorly resourced those schools might be - and occasionally get medical attention, however limited.
For them, a stayaway represents a real loss: a missed sale, a lost client, or a foregone dollar.
Even when they support the call for change in principle, they may not be willing to make the short-term sacrifices required to attain it.
Over time, these Zimbabweans have become desensitized to hardship.
They have normalized their own suffering and learned to survive in a failed state.
They queue for hours for water, seek treatment in under-resourced hospitals, and hustle relentlessly just to stay afloat.
Their energies are consumed by daily survival.
Asking them to give up the little they have today, even for the promise of a better tomorrow, is a tough sell.
This pattern extends to the leadership of the political opposition.
Many opposition leaders are not exactly living in penury.
They are well-established lawyers, professionals, and businesspeople.
They enjoy relative privilege and comfort and are, for the most part, risk-averse.
They will not trade their freedom, livelihoods, or lifestyles to lead mass action from the front, particularly when the Mnangagwa regime has a well-documented track record of persecuting dissenters.
Arrest without trial, prolonged detention, and state-sponsored harassment are real threats.
And most are unwilling to swap their plush homes for prison cells, no matter how just the cause may be.
Moreover, a significant portion of online support for Geza came from Zimbabweans in the diaspora - patriotic and passionate, yes - but far removed from the action on the ground.
They can share videos, comment passionately, and spread the word online, but they are not present to shut down the streets of Harare, Bulawayo, or Mutare.
Their solidarity is important but insufficient without corresponding action from those within the country.
Zimbabwe's real revolutionaries - the ones who truly have nothing left to lose - are not on YouTube.
They don't have smartphones, and if they do, they certainly can't afford enough data to stream videos.
They didn't hear Geza's call because no one reached them.
These are the rural poor, the urban destitute, the forgotten millions in the townships and farming communities.
These are the people who go to bed hungry every night, whose children dropped out of school, and who watch their loved ones die at home because they cannot access healthcare.
These are the Zimbabweans who, just like during the liberation struggle, are ready to put everything on the line because they already lost everything.
These are the people whose grandparents were recruited into the nationalist movements of the 1960s and 70s - people who were prepared to die for the dream of a better future.
That demographic has not vanished.
It still exists today, in the rural villages, in the informal settlements, in the neglected corners of our country where neither electricity, water, nor hope reaches.
Geza's mistake was to overlook this demographic.
His strategy, while commendable, lacked a ground game.
No revolution can be waged solely on the internet.
Geza, as a former freedom fighter himself, should intimately understand this dynamic.
During the liberation struggle, the mobilization of the masses was not achieved through the ZANLA broadcasts on Radio Maputo alone, but through direct engagement with the people.
The guerrillas embedded themselves within the rural communities, living among them and building trust.
They held night vigils - mapungwe - where villagers were conscientized on the injustices they faced, the history of their subjugation, and the urgent need to fight for freedom.
It was this grassroots connection that galvanized thousands to take up the cause, often at great personal risk.
That same spirit, that same strategy of face-to-face engagement and ideological education, must be revived if any meaningful mass movement is to be built in today's Zimbabwe.
Real mobilization requires boots on the ground, face-to-face conversations, door-to-door organizing, and the reawakening of the fighting spirit in those whose backs have long been broken by tyranny and theft.
To effect real change in Zimbabwe, the struggle must return to the grassroots.
It must find its voice not in air-conditioned lounges or Wi-Fi-powered chatrooms, but in the hunger-stricken stomachs and dust-covered streets of the truly dispossessed.
The message must reach them - not in English, not through hashtags, but in their language, in their reality.
Until that happens, calls for mass action, no matter how valid, will continue to echo in cyberspace, unheard and unheeded by those with the power to change the course of history.
● 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.
