Opinion / Columnist
Speaking against injustice is not being negative - it's being honest
4 hrs ago | Views
There are those who often find the truth hard to swallow - but, like medicine, it is vital for healing.
I am often told that I focus too much on the negative.
That I dwell on the darker side of Zimbabwe's reality - the poverty, the corruption, the injustices, the broken promises, the crumbling infrastructure, the deepening despair of our youth.
Recently, someone described my work as a "mirage" that misleads the poor into believing that things are worse than they really are.
According to this reader, my so-called "constructive criticism" achieves nothing - it simply weighs people down and discourages progress.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
I was labeled as "misguided," accused of failing to see the positive, and of holding back those who should instead be embracing personal success regardless of their country's condition.
But let me set the record straight.
I write not because I am a pessimist.
I write because I am a realist.
I write because I care deeply about the people of this country - people who have been betrayed time and again by the very leaders who swore to protect and uplift them.
My words are not weapons of despair; they are tools of liberation.
They are reminders to the poor and oppressed that they are not invisible.
That someone sees their pain, their struggles, their daily battles just to survive in a nation that often forgets them.
I did not choose the easy path of writing flowery articles that flatter those in power or paint a deceptive picture of hope where there is none.
I chose the path of truth, even when that truth is uncomfortable, inconvenient, or unwelcome.
There is nothing noble in silence.
There is nothing helpful in denial.
To pretend all is well when millions are suffering is to participate in a lie that perpetuates injustice.
If I have chosen to be a voice that irritates rather than pacifies, it is because Zimbabwe needs more agitation, not less.
Our complacency has allowed the erosion of accountability.
Our tolerance for mediocrity has emboldened corruption.
Our silence has become complicity.
Social justice advocacy is not about complaining.
It is about confronting.
It is about asking difficult questions, demanding honest answers, and holding power to account.
It is about awakening people to the reality that they deserve better - and that change will not come from elsewhere, but from within the collective will of the people.
That is what my writing seeks to inspire.
Not despair, but consciousness.
Not bitterness, but boldness.
Not hopelessness, but action.
One of the gravest injustices we face in this country is the rampant looting of our national resources.
Zimbabwe is not poor - it is plundered.
The vast wealth of our nation, from minerals like gold, diamonds, and lithium to agricultural land and forests, has been systematically siphoned off by a few at the expense of the many.
This looting is not an abstract issue.
It has real, devastating consequences.
The collapsed hospitals that cannot offer basic care, the schools with no books or desks, the pothole-riddled roads, the chronic power outages, the dry taps, and the hunger stalking urban and rural households alike - all these are the direct result of a corrupt system that prioritizes self-enrichment over public service.
When billions disappear from national coffers while citizens are told to tighten their belts, when luxury cars and mansions bloom in the shadows of impoverished communities, it becomes a moral duty to speak out.
This is not negativity.
It is integrity.
It is a refusal to normalize theft and impunity.
I will continue to expose this betrayal - not because I enjoy scandal, but because silence would make me complicit in the suffering of my fellow Zimbabweans.
There is no way we can speak of development, prosperity, or dignity while our leaders bleed the country dry through corruption, nepotism, and self-interest.
Yes, people are more than the countries they dwell in.
But that is precisely why they should not be imprisoned by systems that stifle their potential.
One cannot fully flourish as a person while living under policies that deny them quality education, decent healthcare, employment opportunities, or the basic dignity of reliable electricity and clean water.
We are not detached from the environments in which we live - we are shaped by them, affected by them, and often limited by them.
Telling people to ignore their suffering and just "be more" is not inspiration - it's indifference masquerading as motivation.
There is a growing trend to label any form of criticism as negativity.
As if pointing out what is wrong is equivalent to wanting things to fail.
But that is a misunderstanding of both patriotism and advocacy.
I criticize because I love this country.
I write because I believe in its people.
And I fight because I still have hope - not a naïve hope rooted in slogans and false promises, but a fierce hope born from the knowledge that change is possible, if only we are brave enough to demand it.
I do not write for the applause of the elite or the approval of those who benefit from silence.
I write for the young mother in Redcliff who walks hundreds of meters to fetch water each day.
For the unemployed graduate who wonders whether education still has value.
For the vendor harassed by municipal officers.
For the pensioner whose savings have vanished into nothing.
For the activist who risks arrest for speaking the truth.
For the voiceless who are told to be quiet, and for the wounded who are told to heal without justice.
If that makes me unpopular in certain circles, so be it.
I did not get into this to win a popularity contest.
I became a social justice advocate because I could no longer stand by while injustice reigned unchecked.
My pen may not be powerful enough to change the world overnight, but it can pierce through the layers of propaganda, awaken critical thought, and spark a conversation that may one day lead to transformation.
To those who feel uncomfortable with my work, I understand.
Truth is rarely comfortable.
But if you ever find yourself too comfortable in a broken system, perhaps it is time to ask whether your comfort comes at the cost of someone else's suffering.
My appeal is not that you agree with everything I say - but that you listen.
That you consider.
That you reflect.
Because even the harshest truth, when spoken in love, is a gift - a mirror held up not to shame, but to awaken.
And so I will keep writing.
I will keep questioning.
I will keep shining a light on the things we are told to ignore.
Not because I enjoy the darkness - but because I believe the only way to defeat it is to expose it.
© 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/
I am often told that I focus too much on the negative.
That I dwell on the darker side of Zimbabwe's reality - the poverty, the corruption, the injustices, the broken promises, the crumbling infrastructure, the deepening despair of our youth.
Recently, someone described my work as a "mirage" that misleads the poor into believing that things are worse than they really are.
According to this reader, my so-called "constructive criticism" achieves nothing - it simply weighs people down and discourages progress.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
I was labeled as "misguided," accused of failing to see the positive, and of holding back those who should instead be embracing personal success regardless of their country's condition.
But let me set the record straight.
I write not because I am a pessimist.
I write because I am a realist.
I write because I care deeply about the people of this country - people who have been betrayed time and again by the very leaders who swore to protect and uplift them.
My words are not weapons of despair; they are tools of liberation.
They are reminders to the poor and oppressed that they are not invisible.
That someone sees their pain, their struggles, their daily battles just to survive in a nation that often forgets them.
I did not choose the easy path of writing flowery articles that flatter those in power or paint a deceptive picture of hope where there is none.
I chose the path of truth, even when that truth is uncomfortable, inconvenient, or unwelcome.
There is nothing noble in silence.
There is nothing helpful in denial.
To pretend all is well when millions are suffering is to participate in a lie that perpetuates injustice.
If I have chosen to be a voice that irritates rather than pacifies, it is because Zimbabwe needs more agitation, not less.
Our complacency has allowed the erosion of accountability.
Our tolerance for mediocrity has emboldened corruption.
Our silence has become complicity.
Social justice advocacy is not about complaining.
It is about confronting.
It is about asking difficult questions, demanding honest answers, and holding power to account.
It is about awakening people to the reality that they deserve better - and that change will not come from elsewhere, but from within the collective will of the people.
That is what my writing seeks to inspire.
Not despair, but consciousness.
Not bitterness, but boldness.
Not hopelessness, but action.
One of the gravest injustices we face in this country is the rampant looting of our national resources.
Zimbabwe is not poor - it is plundered.
The vast wealth of our nation, from minerals like gold, diamonds, and lithium to agricultural land and forests, has been systematically siphoned off by a few at the expense of the many.
This looting is not an abstract issue.
It has real, devastating consequences.
The collapsed hospitals that cannot offer basic care, the schools with no books or desks, the pothole-riddled roads, the chronic power outages, the dry taps, and the hunger stalking urban and rural households alike - all these are the direct result of a corrupt system that prioritizes self-enrichment over public service.
When billions disappear from national coffers while citizens are told to tighten their belts, when luxury cars and mansions bloom in the shadows of impoverished communities, it becomes a moral duty to speak out.
This is not negativity.
It is integrity.
It is a refusal to normalize theft and impunity.
I will continue to expose this betrayal - not because I enjoy scandal, but because silence would make me complicit in the suffering of my fellow Zimbabweans.
There is no way we can speak of development, prosperity, or dignity while our leaders bleed the country dry through corruption, nepotism, and self-interest.
Yes, people are more than the countries they dwell in.
But that is precisely why they should not be imprisoned by systems that stifle their potential.
One cannot fully flourish as a person while living under policies that deny them quality education, decent healthcare, employment opportunities, or the basic dignity of reliable electricity and clean water.
We are not detached from the environments in which we live - we are shaped by them, affected by them, and often limited by them.
Telling people to ignore their suffering and just "be more" is not inspiration - it's indifference masquerading as motivation.
There is a growing trend to label any form of criticism as negativity.
As if pointing out what is wrong is equivalent to wanting things to fail.
But that is a misunderstanding of both patriotism and advocacy.
I criticize because I love this country.
I write because I believe in its people.
And I fight because I still have hope - not a naïve hope rooted in slogans and false promises, but a fierce hope born from the knowledge that change is possible, if only we are brave enough to demand it.
I do not write for the applause of the elite or the approval of those who benefit from silence.
I write for the young mother in Redcliff who walks hundreds of meters to fetch water each day.
For the unemployed graduate who wonders whether education still has value.
For the vendor harassed by municipal officers.
For the pensioner whose savings have vanished into nothing.
For the activist who risks arrest for speaking the truth.
For the voiceless who are told to be quiet, and for the wounded who are told to heal without justice.
If that makes me unpopular in certain circles, so be it.
I did not get into this to win a popularity contest.
I became a social justice advocate because I could no longer stand by while injustice reigned unchecked.
My pen may not be powerful enough to change the world overnight, but it can pierce through the layers of propaganda, awaken critical thought, and spark a conversation that may one day lead to transformation.
To those who feel uncomfortable with my work, I understand.
Truth is rarely comfortable.
But if you ever find yourself too comfortable in a broken system, perhaps it is time to ask whether your comfort comes at the cost of someone else's suffering.
My appeal is not that you agree with everything I say - but that you listen.
That you consider.
That you reflect.
Because even the harshest truth, when spoken in love, is a gift - a mirror held up not to shame, but to awaken.
And so I will keep writing.
I will keep questioning.
I will keep shining a light on the things we are told to ignore.
Not because I enjoy the darkness - but because I believe the only way to defeat it is to expose it.
© 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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