Opinion / Columnist
Varakashi tweets can never mask Zimbabweans' suffering under the Mnangagwa regime
17 hrs ago | Views
There are some things under the sun that can never be defended or glossed over.
The desperation of the ruling ZANU PF regime has never been more apparent than in its feverish attempt to strengthen its so-called Varakashi - a cyber unit tasked with flooding social media with pro-government propaganda.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
The recent news that the party’s UK district has donated high-tech equipment, including laptops, multifunction printers, and wireless-enabled devices, to its loyal social media defenders in Zimbabwe is as laughable as it is tragic.
It is a desperate ploy by a party that has failed to deliver a better life for its citizens and now clings to the illusion that optics and noise can replace meaningful transformation.
From the very beginning, this Varakashi project was doomed to fail.
No amount of hashtags, slick graphics, or coordinated online posts can hide the dismal reality under President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s rule.
Zimbabweans do not live their lives on Facebook or X (formerly Twitter).
They live in the harsh world of empty plates, collapsing hospitals, broken schools, rampant joblessness, and a political elite fattening itself while millions suffer.
The lived experience of ordinary Zimbabweans cannot be edited, filtered, or hashtagged away.
Over 80 percent of the population lives in poverty.
According to the World Food Program, at least 7.6 million Zimbabweans - including 3.5 million children - are food insecure.
How, then, can a digital battalion sitting behind screens possibly convince this hungry population that things are getting better?
What magical words can they type that will transform hunger into satisfaction, or despair into hope?
When a mother watches her children go to bed without a meal, does she feel comforted by a social media post praising Mnangagwa’s “visionary leadership"?
The tragedy runs deeper.
Our hospitals are graveyards for the poor.
Thousands of Zimbabweans are dying from preventable conditions due to a lack of essential medication, basic equipment like dialysis machines or functioning cancer treatment devices, and a chronic shortage of ambulances and surgical tools.
For many, illness is a death sentence - not because the condition is untreatable, but because the government would rather invest in image management than public healthcare.
What can these Varakashi possibly tweet to mask that reality?
Even education, once Zimbabwe’s pride, lies in ruins.
In 2024 alone, over 50,000 children dropped out of school - driven largely by poverty, which fuels early pregnancies, drug abuse, and the inability to afford school fees.
Public schools are underfunded, underequipped, and understaffed.
Many lack the most basic learning tools, with some recording zero percent pass rates.
How do digital warriors explain that away?
Do they believe new laptops will erase those statistics, or that fancy graphics will replace textbooks and science labs?
The truth is, the future for most Zimbabwean youth is bleak.
Even those who complete their education and graduate from university find themselves in an economy devoid of opportunity.
Jobs are scarce, and entrepreneurship is hampered by systemic corruption, lack of access to credit, and economic instability.
Dreams wither before they even begin.
What online slogan or Mnangagwa meme can revive those dreams?
While millions languish, a privileged few connected to the ruling elite swim in opulent wealth.
Through murky tender processes, opaque state asset acquisitions, and unexplained cash transfers, a cabal of well-connected individuals continues to enrich itself.
They flaunt their mansions, drive imported luxury cars, and send their children to elite foreign schools, while flying abroad for medical treatment themselves.
All this in a country where the majority cannot afford basic painkillers.
This is the Zimbabwe that Varakashi must defend.
It is the indefensible.
No Wi-Fi speed or Bluetooth-enabled device can alter that.
Under Mnangagwa, Zimbabwe has become the most corrupt nation in southern Africa, scoring a dismal 21 out of 100 on the 2024 Transparency International Corruption Perceptions Index.
That figure is not the invention of opposition parties or government critics - it is a globally recognized indicator.
So, again, what are the Varakashi going to do about it?
Flood social media with posts calling it fake news?
Slap hashtags on empty slogans?
Attack and insult those who expose the truth?
This is the depth of the regime’s failure: it thinks people want praise songs about roads and traffic interchanges.
Yes, a new interchange may ease congestion, and a freshly paved road may reduce travel time.
But what does that mean to a grandmother who can’t afford insulin?
Or a student who walks to a school without teachers?
Or a child who eats one meal a day - if they’re lucky?
What does a Parliament building, no matter how grand, mean to someone whose life is defined by struggle?
Even the much-touted Mbudzi Interchange, reportedly costing US$88 million, raises more questions than pride.
Anyone who has seen it wonders how that figure was reached.
Could we not have built the interchange and equipped hospitals and schools within that budget, had there been no corruption?
Likewise, the R800 million (about US$42 million) dubiously transferred to controversial businessman Wicknell Chivayo from South African company Ren-Form CC - money which came from the Zimbabwean Treasury for electoral material - remains a dark stain on this administration.
What spin can Varakashi offer to justify that?
They can spend all day praising President Mnangagwa, compiling videos of ribbon cuttings, or designing fancy infographics labeled “EDWorks."
But that will never make the suffering majority love him.
You can’t Photoshop hunger.
You can’t filter corruption.
You can’t crop out injustice.
You can’t hashtag dignity into a broken healthcare system.
And you certainly can’t tweet your way into the hearts of a nation that has had enough.
What Zimbabweans need is not digital propaganda.
We need real, tangible, visible change.
We want to see fewer children dropping out of school and more excelling academically.
We want jobs, not slogans.
We want electricity in our homes, water in our taps, medication in our hospitals.
We want to see corruption punished, not rewarded.
We want a government that serves us, not a cult of personality propped up by a cyber-army.
Only then will President Mnangagwa be loved - not because a Varakashi said so, but because the people can feel it in their lives.
Until then, the laptops and printers recently paraded by ZANU PF will only print more lies on glossy paper.
But the truth - our daily suffering - will always remain.
© 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 desperation of the ruling ZANU PF regime has never been more apparent than in its feverish attempt to strengthen its so-called Varakashi - a cyber unit tasked with flooding social media with pro-government propaganda.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
The recent news that the party’s UK district has donated high-tech equipment, including laptops, multifunction printers, and wireless-enabled devices, to its loyal social media defenders in Zimbabwe is as laughable as it is tragic.
It is a desperate ploy by a party that has failed to deliver a better life for its citizens and now clings to the illusion that optics and noise can replace meaningful transformation.
From the very beginning, this Varakashi project was doomed to fail.
No amount of hashtags, slick graphics, or coordinated online posts can hide the dismal reality under President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s rule.
Zimbabweans do not live their lives on Facebook or X (formerly Twitter).
They live in the harsh world of empty plates, collapsing hospitals, broken schools, rampant joblessness, and a political elite fattening itself while millions suffer.
The lived experience of ordinary Zimbabweans cannot be edited, filtered, or hashtagged away.
Over 80 percent of the population lives in poverty.
According to the World Food Program, at least 7.6 million Zimbabweans - including 3.5 million children - are food insecure.
How, then, can a digital battalion sitting behind screens possibly convince this hungry population that things are getting better?
What magical words can they type that will transform hunger into satisfaction, or despair into hope?
When a mother watches her children go to bed without a meal, does she feel comforted by a social media post praising Mnangagwa’s “visionary leadership"?
The tragedy runs deeper.
Our hospitals are graveyards for the poor.
Thousands of Zimbabweans are dying from preventable conditions due to a lack of essential medication, basic equipment like dialysis machines or functioning cancer treatment devices, and a chronic shortage of ambulances and surgical tools.
For many, illness is a death sentence - not because the condition is untreatable, but because the government would rather invest in image management than public healthcare.
What can these Varakashi possibly tweet to mask that reality?
Even education, once Zimbabwe’s pride, lies in ruins.
In 2024 alone, over 50,000 children dropped out of school - driven largely by poverty, which fuels early pregnancies, drug abuse, and the inability to afford school fees.
Public schools are underfunded, underequipped, and understaffed.
Many lack the most basic learning tools, with some recording zero percent pass rates.
How do digital warriors explain that away?
Do they believe new laptops will erase those statistics, or that fancy graphics will replace textbooks and science labs?
The truth is, the future for most Zimbabwean youth is bleak.
Even those who complete their education and graduate from university find themselves in an economy devoid of opportunity.
Jobs are scarce, and entrepreneurship is hampered by systemic corruption, lack of access to credit, and economic instability.
Dreams wither before they even begin.
What online slogan or Mnangagwa meme can revive those dreams?
While millions languish, a privileged few connected to the ruling elite swim in opulent wealth.
Through murky tender processes, opaque state asset acquisitions, and unexplained cash transfers, a cabal of well-connected individuals continues to enrich itself.
They flaunt their mansions, drive imported luxury cars, and send their children to elite foreign schools, while flying abroad for medical treatment themselves.
All this in a country where the majority cannot afford basic painkillers.
This is the Zimbabwe that Varakashi must defend.
It is the indefensible.
No Wi-Fi speed or Bluetooth-enabled device can alter that.
Under Mnangagwa, Zimbabwe has become the most corrupt nation in southern Africa, scoring a dismal 21 out of 100 on the 2024 Transparency International Corruption Perceptions Index.
That figure is not the invention of opposition parties or government critics - it is a globally recognized indicator.
So, again, what are the Varakashi going to do about it?
Flood social media with posts calling it fake news?
Slap hashtags on empty slogans?
Attack and insult those who expose the truth?
This is the depth of the regime’s failure: it thinks people want praise songs about roads and traffic interchanges.
Yes, a new interchange may ease congestion, and a freshly paved road may reduce travel time.
But what does that mean to a grandmother who can’t afford insulin?
Or a student who walks to a school without teachers?
Or a child who eats one meal a day - if they’re lucky?
What does a Parliament building, no matter how grand, mean to someone whose life is defined by struggle?
Even the much-touted Mbudzi Interchange, reportedly costing US$88 million, raises more questions than pride.
Anyone who has seen it wonders how that figure was reached.
Could we not have built the interchange and equipped hospitals and schools within that budget, had there been no corruption?
Likewise, the R800 million (about US$42 million) dubiously transferred to controversial businessman Wicknell Chivayo from South African company Ren-Form CC - money which came from the Zimbabwean Treasury for electoral material - remains a dark stain on this administration.
What spin can Varakashi offer to justify that?
They can spend all day praising President Mnangagwa, compiling videos of ribbon cuttings, or designing fancy infographics labeled “EDWorks."
But that will never make the suffering majority love him.
You can’t Photoshop hunger.
You can’t filter corruption.
You can’t crop out injustice.
You can’t hashtag dignity into a broken healthcare system.
And you certainly can’t tweet your way into the hearts of a nation that has had enough.
What Zimbabweans need is not digital propaganda.
We need real, tangible, visible change.
We want to see fewer children dropping out of school and more excelling academically.
We want jobs, not slogans.
We want electricity in our homes, water in our taps, medication in our hospitals.
We want to see corruption punished, not rewarded.
We want a government that serves us, not a cult of personality propped up by a cyber-army.
Only then will President Mnangagwa be loved - not because a Varakashi said so, but because the people can feel it in their lives.
Until then, the laptops and printers recently paraded by ZANU PF will only print more lies on glossy paper.
But the truth - our daily suffering - will always remain.
© 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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