Is oppression in Zimbabwe turning us into a violent nation?

There is something deeply troubling unfolding in Zimbabwe, and it is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. 

Over the past months, social media has been flooded with disturbing videos of violence: a stepmother viciously attacking her stepchild, a man ruthlessly beating up a young boy, a woman assaulting a minor, and in one particularly haunting clip, a boy who had just been beaten turning around and kicking a toddler to the ground. 

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On the surface, these incidents may appear to be isolated acts driven by individual cruelty or personal circumstances. 

Yet when patterns begin to emerge, we should ask ourselves a far more unsettling question: could this violence be a symptom of a society suffocating under political repression, economic hardship, and collective helplessness?

There is a well-established psychological phenomenon in which people who are angry, frustrated, and overwhelmed but feel powerless to confront the true source of their suffering redirect that aggression toward easier, weaker targets. 

In a country where citizens feel unable to challenge a government that responds to dissent with intimidation, arrests, and even brutality, that displaced aggression can manifest in tragic ways. 

The frustration–aggression displacement theory explains that when people are prevented from addressing the source of their anger—be it a collapsing economy, unrelenting poverty, or an unresponsive and oppressive state—they look for someone who cannot fight back. 

Often, that becomes a child, a spouse, a domestic worker, or a vulnerable member of the community.

There is an old story many of us heard growing up about a man who, after being humiliated and mistreated at work, would go home and beat his wife; the wife, carrying her own pain, would then beat the child; and the child, powerless and angry, would kick the family dog. 

Although this tale was often told as a joke, there is nothing humorous about it. 

It reflects a deeply troubling psychological pattern in which hurt and frustration cascade downward to those least able to defend themselves. 

Zimbabweans are living under immense psychological stress. 

The daily struggle has created a population that is exhausted, anxious, and stripped of hope. 

Public services have crumbled, from hospitals without medicine, to schools in ruin, to roads whose potholes resemble open graves. 

Jobs are scarce, poverty is deepening, corruption is rampant, and the justice system no longer inspires faith. 

Citizens who try to question or resist these conditions quickly learn the consequences: you can be labelled an enemy of the state, harassed, beaten, or imprisoned. 

Under such conditions, anger rarely travels upward; it spills sideways and downward, onto the people closest and most vulnerable.

This is how a society internalizes helplessness. 

People begin to believe that nothing they do can change the national situation. 

They feel trapped in a system where resistance is punished and compliance is demanded. 

That internalized helplessness has consequences: irritability increases, emotional control weakens, and people become more reactive to even minor triggers. 

A parent already crushed by economic despair may explode violently over a small mistake by a child. 

A man furious about failing to feed his family may lash out at someone smaller than him because he cannot lash out at the system that created that failure. 

A young boy who has been beaten may immediately repeat the violence because that is the only power he has seen modelled in his world. 

This is not an attempt to excuse any act of violence—far from it. 

Rather, it is to understand how a society under constant psychological assault begins to unravel at the seams.

But there is another dimension we cannot ignore. 

When public institutions collapse and there is little faith in the rule of law, people behave differently. 

Violence becomes normalized. 

Videos of beatings circulate online like entertainment, desensitizing viewers to the suffering of others. 

Young people—already raised in environments where physical punishment is common, opportunities are limited, and futures feel stolen—begin to imitate what they see. 

Sociologists refer to this as the contagion effect: when people see violence repeatedly, especially violence that goes unpunished, they begin to view it as acceptable behaviour. 

In Zimbabwe today, social decay is not just happening at the political level; it is filtering down to the most intimate parts of our society.

These violent incidents must also be understood within the context of a nation that has been emotionally violated for decades. 

Zimbabweans have endured political violence, economic trauma, forced displacement, fear, and humiliation. 

The scars of past atrocities - from Gukurahundi and Operation Murambatsvina to the 2008 and 2018 post-election massacres, as well as the public beatings of perceived opposition supporters - remain unresolved.

State brutality has been a recurring feature of national life. 

When a population is subjected to such prolonged trauma, without healing, justice, or accountability, that trauma does not disappear—it mutates. 

It becomes part of the social fabric, influencing how people treat one another. 

A traumatized society is often an angry society; an angry society that cannot confront its oppressor becomes a violent society.

To pretend that the current surge in interpersonal violence is unrelated to the political climate would be wilful blindness. 

Zimbabweans are dealing with a form of collective psychological oppression. 

They are angry at the worsening poverty, the collapsing health system, the deplorable public services, the corruption stealing their future, and the feeling that they live at the mercy of a government that neither listens nor cares. 

And yet, they cannot safely express that anger where it truly belongs. 

The regime's message is clear: dissent is dangerous. 

As a result, the nation's frustration is being redirected into the only places where people feel they have some power—though tragically, that power is being exercised in the most destructive and heartbreaking ways.

It is important to repeat that none of this justifies violence against children, women, the elderly, or any vulnerable person. 

Personal responsibility remains essential. 

But understanding the root causes of a societal crisis is the first step toward addressing it. 

If Zimbabwe is ever to heal, we must confront not only the individual perpetrators but also the political environment that has created a population simmering with anger and helplessness. 

We must ask ourselves what kind of future we are building when the oppressed begin to mimic the oppressor.

The violence we are witnessing today is not simply about bad individuals; it is a mirror reflecting a nation in distress. 

Until Zimbabweans are free to express their grievances without fear, until institutions are rebuilt, until justice is restored, and until people regain a sense of agency in shaping their own future, this cycle of displaced aggression will continue. 

A brutal regime does not only harm its citizens through direct oppression - it corrodes the very soul of the nation, unleashing pain that is later echoed in homes, streets, and communities.

If we want to end the violence in our society, we must end the violence inflicted upon the society.

© 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/