Opinion / Columnist
Is the Trabablas Interchange a monument to Zimbabwe's misplaced priorities and corruption?
15 May 2025 at 08:08hrs | Views
Is Zimbabwe's so-called ‘spaghetti road' just another highway to corruption?
The recent announcement by Zimbabwe's Ministry of Transport that the long-awaited Mbudzi Interchange - now curiously renamed the "Trabablas Interchange" - is nearing completion and set to open by the end of May has understandably been met with relief by motorists.
For years, this key intersection along the Harare-Masvingo highway was infamous for choking congestion, long delays, and frequent accidents.
The prospect of a modern multi-level interchange promising smoother, safer traffic flow should be something to celebrate.
However, as Zimbabweans prepare to drive over this glimmering new structure, there is a pressing need to critically interrogate what lies beneath it - both figuratively and literally.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
The official cost of the Trabablas Interchange has been pegged at a staggering US$88 million.
While the government has attempted to justify the cost, breaking it down into US$65 million for the interchange itself and US$23 million for associated works such as detours, professional fees, and relocation, comparisons with similar projects elsewhere raise serious red flags.
In South Africa, for example, the Mount Edgecombe Interchange - a far more complex four-level interchange in Durban - was completed in 2018 at a cost of approximately US$65.9 million.
That project included 26 kilometers of ramps and link roads, advanced structural features, and cutting-edge traffic engineering systems.
It dwarfs Trabablas in scale and complexity, yet cost significantly less.
Why then does a less intricate interchange in Zimbabwe cost more?
This question becomes even more urgent when we consider that construction and labor costs in Zimbabwe are considerably lower than in South Africa.
By all logic, a Zimbabwean project of this nature should cost less, not more.
The inevitable conclusion is that either the public is being grossly overcharged, or there are elements of waste, inefficiency - or worse still, corruption - embedded in the expenditure.
This concern becomes more valid when we consider who was awarded the contract.
The interchange was constructed by Tefoma Construction, a consortium comprising Tensor Systems, Masimba Construction, and Fossil Contracting.
Of particular interest is Fossil Contracting, a company linked to controversial businessman Kudakwashe Tagwirei.
Fossil Contracting is associated with Tagwirei through key figures in its management, notably Obey Chimuka, who has also been connected to Tagwirei's other business interests, such as Landela Investments.
These ties have led to concerns that Fossil Contracting may operate as a proxy for Tagwirei's broader business empire.
The company's involvement in major government infrastructure projects, including the Mbudzi Interchange, has sparked further scrutiny, especially given Tagwirei's controversial standing and the U.S. sanctions placed on him and his affiliates.
Tagwirei's companies have won numerous high-value government contracts across different sectors - from fuel supply to infrastructure development - often without open tender, raising suspicions of cronyism and capture of state procurement processes by politically connected individuals.
This pattern has become all too familiar in Zimbabwe.
Large government contracts are routinely awarded without transparency, often under opaque or special procurement frameworks.
One of the most glaring recent examples is the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission (ZEC) tender awarded to South African company Ren-Form CC for the supply of election materials.
Investigations revealed that of the R1.1 billion (approximately US$58 million) contract, R800 million was allegedly transferred into business accounts belonging to Wicknell Chivayo, a convicted criminal and known tenderpreneur closely associated with top government officials.
The pricing of materials in the ZEC tender was reportedly inflated by up to 30,000%, raising concerns not only of corruption but of brazen theft of public funds.
Yet, no serious action has been taken against those implicated.
These incidents point to a systemic issue in Zimbabwe's public procurement culture: inflated costs, lack of competitive bidding, and contracts being channeled to politically protected entities.
This not only results in massive financial loss to the taxpayer but also creates conditions ripe for substandard work.
When a contractor is chosen based on political connections rather than merit, the incentive to adhere to international engineering standards diminishes.
Oversight becomes weak, as those tasked with monitoring fear reprimanding individuals protected by political muscle.
In the case of the Trabablas Interchange, there are already concerns being raised about certain structural elements, although no official engineering report has yet emerged.
Still, the history of substandard state-sponsored construction in Zimbabwe provides little comfort.
We have witnessed government-built schools collapsing under heavy rains, newly tarred roads eroding within months, and rural clinics disintegrating long before their expected life cycle.
If the Trabablas Interchange has not been built to withstand the volume of traffic expected, or if shortcuts were taken to cut corners in the name of maximizing profit, then the risk to human life becomes real.
This is not just a matter of financial accountability - it is a matter of public safety.
Furthermore, the renaming of the Mbudzi Interchange to "Trabablas" - reportedly President Emmerson Mnangagwa's nickname during the liberation struggle - sets a troubling precedent.
While this explanation has been offered, the decision to name a major public infrastructure project after a sitting president is both unusual and concerning.
In most democratic societies, such honors are typically reserved posthumously or after a leader has left office, to allow for a more objective national assessment of their legacy.
Naming structures after current leaders while they are still in power smacks of personality cultism and political hero-worship, rather than genuine national recognition.
More critically, the name change was implemented without any public consultation or input from stakeholders, further eroding the sense of national ownership over a publicly funded project.
It reflects a top-down, opaque style of governance that excludes the very citizens such infrastructure is meant to serve.
This is symptomatic of a broader governance issue in Zimbabwe: projects are conceived, named, and executed in elite corridors of power, with little to no input from the people they are meant to serve.
What ought to be a public good ends up being a political trophy.
This interchange, though it may ease traffic flow, is therefore not merely a piece of infrastructure.
It is a monument to misplaced priorities and a deeply entrenched culture of impunity.
It symbolizes a government that continues to splurge on mega projects with questionable price tags while hospitals lack basic drugs, schools have no books, and water shortages persist in urban and rural areas alike.
Infrastructure development is vital, yes - but it must be transparent, accountable, and people-centered, not driven by the greed of a politically connected few.
Zimbabweans must begin asking harder questions. Why is it that public works projects routinely cost far more than similar ones in neighboring countries?
Why are the same names - Chivayo, Tagwirei, and their proxies - always at the center of these lucrative deals?
Where is the Auditor-General's report on this project?
Was there an open tender process, and if not, why?
Were international best practices in engineering and urban planning followed?
Until we confront these questions and demand answers, we will continue to see inflated budgets, substandard public services, and infrastructure that, while appearing shiny on the outside, rots from within.
The Trabablas Interchange may be a new addition to Harare's skyline, but it could just as easily become yet another tragic metaphor for Zimbabwe's continued decline: big, expensive, overhyped - and ultimately not built to last.
© 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 announcement by Zimbabwe's Ministry of Transport that the long-awaited Mbudzi Interchange - now curiously renamed the "Trabablas Interchange" - is nearing completion and set to open by the end of May has understandably been met with relief by motorists.
For years, this key intersection along the Harare-Masvingo highway was infamous for choking congestion, long delays, and frequent accidents.
The prospect of a modern multi-level interchange promising smoother, safer traffic flow should be something to celebrate.
However, as Zimbabweans prepare to drive over this glimmering new structure, there is a pressing need to critically interrogate what lies beneath it - both figuratively and literally.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
The official cost of the Trabablas Interchange has been pegged at a staggering US$88 million.
While the government has attempted to justify the cost, breaking it down into US$65 million for the interchange itself and US$23 million for associated works such as detours, professional fees, and relocation, comparisons with similar projects elsewhere raise serious red flags.
In South Africa, for example, the Mount Edgecombe Interchange - a far more complex four-level interchange in Durban - was completed in 2018 at a cost of approximately US$65.9 million.
That project included 26 kilometers of ramps and link roads, advanced structural features, and cutting-edge traffic engineering systems.
It dwarfs Trabablas in scale and complexity, yet cost significantly less.
Why then does a less intricate interchange in Zimbabwe cost more?
This question becomes even more urgent when we consider that construction and labor costs in Zimbabwe are considerably lower than in South Africa.
By all logic, a Zimbabwean project of this nature should cost less, not more.
The inevitable conclusion is that either the public is being grossly overcharged, or there are elements of waste, inefficiency - or worse still, corruption - embedded in the expenditure.
This concern becomes more valid when we consider who was awarded the contract.
The interchange was constructed by Tefoma Construction, a consortium comprising Tensor Systems, Masimba Construction, and Fossil Contracting.
Of particular interest is Fossil Contracting, a company linked to controversial businessman Kudakwashe Tagwirei.
Fossil Contracting is associated with Tagwirei through key figures in its management, notably Obey Chimuka, who has also been connected to Tagwirei's other business interests, such as Landela Investments.
These ties have led to concerns that Fossil Contracting may operate as a proxy for Tagwirei's broader business empire.
The company's involvement in major government infrastructure projects, including the Mbudzi Interchange, has sparked further scrutiny, especially given Tagwirei's controversial standing and the U.S. sanctions placed on him and his affiliates.
Tagwirei's companies have won numerous high-value government contracts across different sectors - from fuel supply to infrastructure development - often without open tender, raising suspicions of cronyism and capture of state procurement processes by politically connected individuals.
This pattern has become all too familiar in Zimbabwe.
Large government contracts are routinely awarded without transparency, often under opaque or special procurement frameworks.
One of the most glaring recent examples is the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission (ZEC) tender awarded to South African company Ren-Form CC for the supply of election materials.
Investigations revealed that of the R1.1 billion (approximately US$58 million) contract, R800 million was allegedly transferred into business accounts belonging to Wicknell Chivayo, a convicted criminal and known tenderpreneur closely associated with top government officials.
The pricing of materials in the ZEC tender was reportedly inflated by up to 30,000%, raising concerns not only of corruption but of brazen theft of public funds.
Yet, no serious action has been taken against those implicated.
This not only results in massive financial loss to the taxpayer but also creates conditions ripe for substandard work.
When a contractor is chosen based on political connections rather than merit, the incentive to adhere to international engineering standards diminishes.
Oversight becomes weak, as those tasked with monitoring fear reprimanding individuals protected by political muscle.
In the case of the Trabablas Interchange, there are already concerns being raised about certain structural elements, although no official engineering report has yet emerged.
Still, the history of substandard state-sponsored construction in Zimbabwe provides little comfort.
We have witnessed government-built schools collapsing under heavy rains, newly tarred roads eroding within months, and rural clinics disintegrating long before their expected life cycle.
If the Trabablas Interchange has not been built to withstand the volume of traffic expected, or if shortcuts were taken to cut corners in the name of maximizing profit, then the risk to human life becomes real.
This is not just a matter of financial accountability - it is a matter of public safety.
Furthermore, the renaming of the Mbudzi Interchange to "Trabablas" - reportedly President Emmerson Mnangagwa's nickname during the liberation struggle - sets a troubling precedent.
While this explanation has been offered, the decision to name a major public infrastructure project after a sitting president is both unusual and concerning.
In most democratic societies, such honors are typically reserved posthumously or after a leader has left office, to allow for a more objective national assessment of their legacy.
Naming structures after current leaders while they are still in power smacks of personality cultism and political hero-worship, rather than genuine national recognition.
More critically, the name change was implemented without any public consultation or input from stakeholders, further eroding the sense of national ownership over a publicly funded project.
It reflects a top-down, opaque style of governance that excludes the very citizens such infrastructure is meant to serve.
This is symptomatic of a broader governance issue in Zimbabwe: projects are conceived, named, and executed in elite corridors of power, with little to no input from the people they are meant to serve.
What ought to be a public good ends up being a political trophy.
This interchange, though it may ease traffic flow, is therefore not merely a piece of infrastructure.
It is a monument to misplaced priorities and a deeply entrenched culture of impunity.
It symbolizes a government that continues to splurge on mega projects with questionable price tags while hospitals lack basic drugs, schools have no books, and water shortages persist in urban and rural areas alike.
Infrastructure development is vital, yes - but it must be transparent, accountable, and people-centered, not driven by the greed of a politically connected few.
Zimbabweans must begin asking harder questions. Why is it that public works projects routinely cost far more than similar ones in neighboring countries?
Why are the same names - Chivayo, Tagwirei, and their proxies - always at the center of these lucrative deals?
Where is the Auditor-General's report on this project?
Was there an open tender process, and if not, why?
Were international best practices in engineering and urban planning followed?
Until we confront these questions and demand answers, we will continue to see inflated budgets, substandard public services, and infrastructure that, while appearing shiny on the outside, rots from within.
The Trabablas Interchange may be a new addition to Harare's skyline, but it could just as easily become yet another tragic metaphor for Zimbabwe's continued decline: big, expensive, overhyped - and ultimately not built to last.
© 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
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