Are Zimbabwe's endless taxes deliberately designed to finance the corruption machinery?

There are important questions we need to answer.

The Zimbabwean government's relentless appetite for squeezing more and more taxes out of an already suffocating population has become impossible to ignore. 

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Each national budget arrives not with relief, not with incentives for productivity or growth, but with yet another basket of taxes that pile unbearable pressure on already impoverished citizens and businesses. 

Ordinary Zimbabweans earn far below the lower middle-income poverty line of US$5.50 a day, yet life keeps becoming more expensive. 

At the same time, businesses - large and small - struggle under the weight of punitive levies that directly threaten their survival. 

The question is no longer whether the government is taxing too heavily. 

It is why.

It is clear that Zimbabwe is not taxing its way toward development. 

A nation cannot tax itself out of poverty, especially one where nearly 80% of citizens live below the poverty threshold and where wages for teachers, nurses, and most civil servants fall below the poverty line. 

In such an environment, the purpose of taxation cannot possibly be service delivery, social welfare, or development. 

If these were the priorities, our hospitals would not be running without essential medicines, CT scanners, or ICU equipment; our schools would not be operating with dilapidated infrastructure, outdated textbooks, and underpaid teachers; our cities would not be going for years without clean tap water; and our roads would not resemble landscapes from an active war zone.

Yet every year, new taxes appear - each one more suffocating than the last. 

The 2026 national budget is a perfect illustration. 

The government has increased the VAT rate to 15.5%, a move guaranteed to fuel inflation and make basic goods even more out of reach for struggling households. 

The Intermediated Money Transfer Tax (IMTT), possibly the most destructive tax in the country's recent history, remains firmly in place. 

A mere cosmetic reduction on ZiG transactions from 2% to 1.5% does nothing to ease the burden on a population transacting predominantly in USD. 

And businesses still face the cascading, multi-stage cost of IMTT - taxed over and over again on the same value as money moves through supply chains.

Then comes the cash withdrawal tax - a catastrophic proposal that punishes citizens simply for accessing their own money. 

Anyone who withdraws cash will now be hit with a progressive levy of up to 3%, on top of bank charges already considered extortionate. 

This does not promote digital payments. 

It promotes a flight from the banking system altogether. 

Even economic experts like Professor Gift Mugano have described the move as “anti-banking”, noting correctly that no rational citizen will willingly deposit money only to be taxed again for withdrawing it. 

Lawyer and opposition figure Fadzayi Mahere echoed the same, warning that the measure will fuel money laundering and collapse confidence in the formal banking system.

Meanwhile, miners and manufacturers face higher gold royalties - now pushed to a world-leading 10% - a move widely expected to promote smuggling and undermine the formal mining sector. 

SMEs and informal traders face overlapping taxes: presumptive tax, VAT, IMTT, and sometimes multiple levies slapped onto the same transaction. 

And workers continue to drown under PAYE that has not been adjusted to match inflation or currency realities, meaning salaries are shrinking even further as the taxman takes a larger share of already-eroded incomes.

Yet for all these taxes, Zimbabweans see nothing. 

Not better hospitals. 

Not improved schools. 

Not working power stations. 

Not reliable water systems. 

Not modernised infrastructure. 

So where is the money going?

This is where the theory of “Zvigananda” - the shadowy, politically protected individuals who display unfathomable wealth with no visible source - becomes hard to dismiss. 

How can a country where teachers cannot afford transport to work have individuals casually spending US$600,000 on a presidential scarf? 

How can a nation where children sit on broken classroom floors produce men handing out luxury cars to musicians, comedians, praise-singers, ZANU-PF Central Committee members, and even religious leaders - sometimes weekly?

In any normal country, such ostentatious displays of unexplained wealth would trigger immediate investigations. 

Authorities would demand proof of income, tax compliance, and financial records. 

But in Zimbabwe, these individuals are not only ignored by law enforcement - they are celebrated. 

Protected. 

Elevated. 

Their wealth defended publicly. 

Their extravagance applauded by officials. 

What does this tell us?

That they are not simply wealthy individuals. 

They are conduits.

They are the pipelines through which public funds leak from state coffers into the hands of those who maintain political power. 

They are the middlemen for corruption - funded not by business acumen, not by entrepreneurship, not by innovation, but by the state itself. 

They are the human faces of a vast ecosystem of patronage and corruption, feeding on public funds meant for schools, hospitals, water systems, and infrastructure.

And this ecosystem is expensive.

It requires billions each year to oil the machinery. 

It must fund political campaigns, buy loyalty, secure patronage networks, sustain lavish lifestyles, silence critics, reward loyalists, bribe officials, and maintain a grip on the state. 

This system does not produce wealth - it consumes it. 

The people who run it do not generate value - they extract it.

That is why taxes keep rising. 

That is why Zimbabweans are being milked dry. 

That is why businesses are collapsing under the weight of levies. 

That is why the government is desperate for revenue - because the monster called Zvigananda must be fed continuously. 

And that is why this money never appears in public services. 

It is swallowed whole by a system that treats the citizen as a revenue source, not a beneficiary. 

The citizen is a resource to be mined - just like gold or lithium - but without the royalty protections.

Zimbabweans pay taxes, but receive no services. 

They pay VAT, but remain in poverty. 

They pay IMTT and Sugar Tax, but their hospitals crumble. 

They pay PAYE, but their wages remain inhuman. 

They pay withdrawal taxes, but their banking system fails. 

They pay royalties, fees, and levies, yet the rich only grow richer.

The truth is simple: Zimbabwe's tax system is no longer about development. 

It is about extraction. 

It is about financing corruption. 

It is about feeding patronage. 

It is about sustaining power. 

And until Zimbabwe dismantles the Zvigananda machine, no amount of taxation - no matter how punitive - will ever change the lives of ordinary citizens for the better.

© 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/