Opinion / Columnist
If a mere wedding can spark corruption investigations, why are Zvigananda not being investigated?
2 hrs ago |
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And the hypocrisy continues unabated.
This morning I came across a supposed news report about the arrest of a Rusape-based small-scale gold miner on alleged money-laundering charges after he reportedly splurged on vehicles and hosted a lavish wedding.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
According to the report, police moved in after claims that Regaii Chipanga was living beyond his apparent means, acquiring vehicles and developing his rural home.
Investigators allegedly recovered a Honda Vezel, two Toyota Probox vehicles, and US$1,700 in cash, said to have been seized as suspected proceeds of crime after Chipanga supposedly failed to produce documentation linking the assets to lawful gold prospecting.
On the face of it, there is nothing unusual about this.
In jurisdictions that take accountability seriously, unexplained wealth quite rightly attracts scrutiny.
If someone with a modest or unclear income suddenly displays conspicuous wealth, authorities are expected to ask questions.
This is standard practice in countries that are genuinely committed to fighting corruption and financial crime.
So, the issue is not that authorities reportedly acted.
The issue is what their alleged action exposes about what they consistently refuse to do.
If a small-scale miner's wedding and a handful of relatively modest vehicles are sufficient to reportedly trigger an arrest and asset seizure, what does that say about the complete silence surrounding individuals whose wealth is not only vastly greater, but whose names are repeatedly associated with public funds, controversial tenders, and allegations of high-level corruption?
Why has Zimbabwe never seen the same enthusiasm, speed, and resolve when it comes to investigating the so-called "big fish" - the Zvigananda - whose lifestyles dwarf anything attributed to the miner now supposedly before the courts?
Take Wicknell Chivayo as one prominent example, not because he is unique, but because he is emblematic.
He is routinely described as a "businessman," yet the public has never been presented with clear, verifiable information about the businesses that are supposed to generate the immense wealth he openly flaunts.
What companies does he own or hold shares in?
What do they produce or supply?
At what scale do they operate?
Where are they based?
How many people do they employ?
These are not malicious questions; they are basic questions of public interest in a country where corruption has hollowed out the state.
What investigations, beyond a brief and widely criticised statement by the Zimbabwe Anti-Corruption Commission claiming to have exonerated him in the ZEC election materials scandal, have ever been conducted into the supposed broader sources of Chivayo's wealth?
That ZACC statement addressed one specific issue, and even then, it raised more questions than it answered.
It did not explain how a man whose companies were allegedly linked, through South African investigations, to the receipt of about R800 million from funds meant for election materials could simply be waved through without a transparent, detailed accounting to the public.
There are other serious matters that have reportedly never been adequately explained.
The $5 million allegedly paid for the still-undeveloped 100MW Gwanda Solar Power Project remains one of the most glaring examples.
There have also been persistent claims, amplified by a leaked audio recording that went viral a few years ago, in which a voice alleged to be Chivayo boasted about his proximity to power, receiving millions of dollars in advance for state tenders, and having lucrative deals with the police and the Department of Immigration.
These are not trivial rumours.
They are allegations involving vast sums of taxpayers' money.
This is where the contrast with the Chipanga report becomes impossible to ignore.
The state tells us that US$1,700 in cash and a few vehicles reportedly justify an aggressive money-laundering investigation.
Yet private jets, fleets of luxury cars, public displays of gifting vehicles and hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash to celebrities and political loyalists, and an openly extravagant lifestyle funded by opaque sources do not seem to trigger even the most basic public inquiry.
How does that make sense in a country that claims to be fighting corruption?
The people of Zimbabwe deserve answers for several reasons.
First, suspected criminal activity, especially where corruption is involved, is inherently a matter of public interest.
Corruption is not a victimless crime.
Secondly, where individuals are repeatedly accused of benefitting unfairly or illegally from public funds, transparency is not optional; it is essential.
Public money belongs to the people.
It must be accounted for, and those who receive it must be subject to scrutiny.
Every dollar that is allegedly diverted through corrupt tenders is a dollar stolen from essential services.
It is money that should be equipping public hospitals, where thousands die each year from preventable causes because there are no medicines, no diagnostic tools, and no functioning equipment.
It is money that should be funding public schools, ensuring that children learn in decent classrooms with adequate textbooks and modern learning resources.
It is money that should be fixing roads, water systems, and power infrastructure, instead of forcing citizens to navigate pothole-ridden streets even in major city centres.
When authorities reportedly pursue a small-scale miner while ignoring those whose alleged access to public funds runs into tens of millions, the message sent is devastating.
It suggests that the law is not applied equally, that accountability depends on who you are and how close you are to power.
It reinforces the widespread belief that Zimbabwe's anti-corruption drive is selective, performative, and ultimately dishonest.
The question, then, is unavoidable: how do Zimbabwean authorities explain a situation where a man developing his rural home is reportedly deemed a national concern, while an individual who buys a private jet and parades extreme wealth under a cloud of unresolved allegations is treated as untouchable?
How does one reconcile this with claims that there is political will to tackle corruption?
If the government is serious about restoring public trust, it must move beyond targeting the small and the powerless.
Investigating the Zvigananda is not about envy or politics; it is about justice, accountability, and the responsible management of public resources.
Until the same standards applied to Regaii Chipanga are applied to those who openly flaunt wealth allegedly linked to state coffers, every anti-corruption arrest will ring hollow.
Corruption cannot be fought from the bottom up.
It must be confronted where it does the greatest damage.
Anything less is not a fight against corruption; it is a performance designed to distract a suffering nation.
© 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/
This morning I came across a supposed news report about the arrest of a Rusape-based small-scale gold miner on alleged money-laundering charges after he reportedly splurged on vehicles and hosted a lavish wedding.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
According to the report, police moved in after claims that Regaii Chipanga was living beyond his apparent means, acquiring vehicles and developing his rural home.
Investigators allegedly recovered a Honda Vezel, two Toyota Probox vehicles, and US$1,700 in cash, said to have been seized as suspected proceeds of crime after Chipanga supposedly failed to produce documentation linking the assets to lawful gold prospecting.
On the face of it, there is nothing unusual about this.
In jurisdictions that take accountability seriously, unexplained wealth quite rightly attracts scrutiny.
If someone with a modest or unclear income suddenly displays conspicuous wealth, authorities are expected to ask questions.
This is standard practice in countries that are genuinely committed to fighting corruption and financial crime.
So, the issue is not that authorities reportedly acted.
The issue is what their alleged action exposes about what they consistently refuse to do.
If a small-scale miner's wedding and a handful of relatively modest vehicles are sufficient to reportedly trigger an arrest and asset seizure, what does that say about the complete silence surrounding individuals whose wealth is not only vastly greater, but whose names are repeatedly associated with public funds, controversial tenders, and allegations of high-level corruption?
Why has Zimbabwe never seen the same enthusiasm, speed, and resolve when it comes to investigating the so-called "big fish" - the Zvigananda - whose lifestyles dwarf anything attributed to the miner now supposedly before the courts?
Take Wicknell Chivayo as one prominent example, not because he is unique, but because he is emblematic.
He is routinely described as a "businessman," yet the public has never been presented with clear, verifiable information about the businesses that are supposed to generate the immense wealth he openly flaunts.
What companies does he own or hold shares in?
What do they produce or supply?
At what scale do they operate?
Where are they based?
How many people do they employ?
These are not malicious questions; they are basic questions of public interest in a country where corruption has hollowed out the state.
What investigations, beyond a brief and widely criticised statement by the Zimbabwe Anti-Corruption Commission claiming to have exonerated him in the ZEC election materials scandal, have ever been conducted into the supposed broader sources of Chivayo's wealth?
That ZACC statement addressed one specific issue, and even then, it raised more questions than it answered.
It did not explain how a man whose companies were allegedly linked, through South African investigations, to the receipt of about R800 million from funds meant for election materials could simply be waved through without a transparent, detailed accounting to the public.
There are other serious matters that have reportedly never been adequately explained.
The $5 million allegedly paid for the still-undeveloped 100MW Gwanda Solar Power Project remains one of the most glaring examples.
There have also been persistent claims, amplified by a leaked audio recording that went viral a few years ago, in which a voice alleged to be Chivayo boasted about his proximity to power, receiving millions of dollars in advance for state tenders, and having lucrative deals with the police and the Department of Immigration.
They are allegations involving vast sums of taxpayers' money.
This is where the contrast with the Chipanga report becomes impossible to ignore.
The state tells us that US$1,700 in cash and a few vehicles reportedly justify an aggressive money-laundering investigation.
Yet private jets, fleets of luxury cars, public displays of gifting vehicles and hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash to celebrities and political loyalists, and an openly extravagant lifestyle funded by opaque sources do not seem to trigger even the most basic public inquiry.
How does that make sense in a country that claims to be fighting corruption?
The people of Zimbabwe deserve answers for several reasons.
First, suspected criminal activity, especially where corruption is involved, is inherently a matter of public interest.
Corruption is not a victimless crime.
Secondly, where individuals are repeatedly accused of benefitting unfairly or illegally from public funds, transparency is not optional; it is essential.
Public money belongs to the people.
It must be accounted for, and those who receive it must be subject to scrutiny.
Every dollar that is allegedly diverted through corrupt tenders is a dollar stolen from essential services.
It is money that should be equipping public hospitals, where thousands die each year from preventable causes because there are no medicines, no diagnostic tools, and no functioning equipment.
It is money that should be funding public schools, ensuring that children learn in decent classrooms with adequate textbooks and modern learning resources.
It is money that should be fixing roads, water systems, and power infrastructure, instead of forcing citizens to navigate pothole-ridden streets even in major city centres.
When authorities reportedly pursue a small-scale miner while ignoring those whose alleged access to public funds runs into tens of millions, the message sent is devastating.
It suggests that the law is not applied equally, that accountability depends on who you are and how close you are to power.
It reinforces the widespread belief that Zimbabwe's anti-corruption drive is selective, performative, and ultimately dishonest.
The question, then, is unavoidable: how do Zimbabwean authorities explain a situation where a man developing his rural home is reportedly deemed a national concern, while an individual who buys a private jet and parades extreme wealth under a cloud of unresolved allegations is treated as untouchable?
How does one reconcile this with claims that there is political will to tackle corruption?
If the government is serious about restoring public trust, it must move beyond targeting the small and the powerless.
Investigating the Zvigananda is not about envy or politics; it is about justice, accountability, and the responsible management of public resources.
Until the same standards applied to Regaii Chipanga are applied to those who openly flaunt wealth allegedly linked to state coffers, every anti-corruption arrest will ring hollow.
Corruption cannot be fought from the bottom up.
It must be confronted where it does the greatest damage.
Anything less is not a fight against corruption; it is a performance designed to distract a suffering nation.
© 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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