Even an amateur can drill a borehole; so what is so special to justify a term extension?

This would have been a joke, had it not been so tragic. 

The political atmosphere in Zimbabwe has become saturated with a singular, repetitive chant that seems to drown out the lived realities of millions. 

If you value my social justice advocacy and writing, please consider a financial contribution to keep it going. Contact me on WhatsApp: +263 715 667 700 or Email: mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com

This "2030" slogan, now codified in the recently gazetted Constitution Amendment (No. 3) Bill, is built on a foundation of purported "exceptional development" that only one man can allegedly see through to completion. 

We are told that the current administration has performed such miracles in infrastructure and economic management that the country would simply crumble if a new hand took the wheel in 2028. 

However, when one strips away the layers of state-sponsored propaganda and the polished ribbon-cutting ceremonies, a glaring question remains. 

What is so extraordinary about these projects that they justify the dismantling of the 2013 constitutional consensus and the elongation of presidential terms from five to seven years?

If we look at the list of "achievements" frequently cited by proponents of the term extension, we find a catalog of tasks that are, by definition, the basic responsibilities of any functional government. 

We are asked to marvel at rehabilitated highways, the patching of potholes, the drilling of boreholes, and the expansion of an airport. 

While these are certainly necessary, they are hardly the stuff of legend. 

In fact, infrastructure maintenance and the provision of basic utilities are so fundamental that even a robot or a programmed machine could execute them. 

There is nothing inherently visionary about paving a road that has been neglected for three decades or commissioning a dam that has been on the drawing board since the previous millennium. 

To suggest that these projects are so complex that only a specific individual can oversee them is not just an exaggeration; it is an insult to the collective intelligence of the nation.

Any leader with a basic sense of administration and a functional Treasury can hire a contractor to build an interchange or expand a power station.

These are technical, administrative tasks that do not require a "messiah" or a permanent fixture in the State House. 

In most stable democracies, such projects continue seamlessly regardless of who wins an election because the institutions of the state are stronger than the individuals who temporarily lead them. 

By claiming that President Mnangagwa must stay to "finish his projects," his supporters are inadvertently making a devastating admission. 

They are suggesting that the ruling ZANU-PF party is so devoid of talent and so institutionally fragile that it does not possess a single other person capable of supervising a construction site or signing a mining lease.

This "only one man" narrative is a slap in the face to the very party that claims to have brought independence and "revolutionary" leadership to the country. 

If a political organization with over sixty years of existence cannot produce a successor to "patch up potholes" or "drill boreholes," then it has failed in its most basic duty of leadership development. 

It is a strange form of praise to tell a leader that he is surrounded by such incompetence that his departure would bring the nation to a standstill. 

If the "Second Republic" were truly built on solid policy and vision, those policies would outlive any individual. 

A legacy built on the premise that it cannot survive a transition is not a legacy at all; it is a cult of personality.

Furthermore, we must look at the human cost of this era. 

While the state media focuses on the glitz of the Mbudzi Interchange or the high-tech promises of Zim Cyber City, the statistics on the ground tell a far more harrowing story. 

In early 2026, the reality for the average Zimbabwean is one of deepening precarity. 

While the government boasts of 6.6% growth and a stabilized currency, humanitarian reports indicate that over 7 million people still require urgent food assistance. 

Poverty rates have not plummeted; instead, extreme poverty has surged from 30% in 2017 to over 42% by 2026, meaning that more than 7 million Zimbabweans now struggle to afford a basic food basket.

The "Upper-Middle-Income Society" by 2030 remains a "house on a hill" that most citizens cannot even see, let alone inhabit.

The gap between the "development" narrative and the kitchen-table reality is vast. 

A family in a rural village does not eat an airport runway. 

A grandmother in a high-density suburb cannot pay school fees with a "Smart City" blueprint. 

Zimbabweans are undeniably poorer today than they were in 2017 when this administration took the reins. 

The erosion of savings, slave wages, and the collapse of the healthcare system are the true markers of the last several years. 

If the "projects" were truly transformational, they would reflect in the pockets and the bellies of the citizenry. 

Instead, we see a country of "world-class" traffic interchanges built over rivers of deepening poverty.

The justification for a term extension based on "continuity" is essentially a demand for the continuity of the status quo. 

It is an attempt to lock in a system that prioritizes infrastructure projects—often funded by opaque deals and increasing national debt—over the fundamental well-being of the people. 

To argue that a leader should stay beyond their constitutional limit to finish a dam is like arguing that a contractor should move into your house permanently because he hasn't finished fixing the roof. 

The contract has an end date for a reason.

The legal and constitutional arguments against a sitting president benefiting from a term extension are well-documented and robust, but the moral and logical arguments are equally devastating. 

Democracy is not a construction project; it is a system of accountability. 

The moment a leader believes they are indispensable to the "development" of a country, they have ceased to be a public servant and have become a liability to the democratic order. 

The Constitution was designed to protect the country from the whims of individuals who believe their personal timeline is more important than the national law.

Ultimately, the push for "ED2030" has nothing to do with finishing roads or dams. 

It is about the preservation of power and the protection of interests that fear a change in leadership might bring a change in accountability. 

If the "Second Republic" truly wants to prove it is different from the era it replaced, it should demonstrate that its vision is bigger than one man. 

It should show that the "projects" it prides itself on are the result of a system that works, not a person who refuses to leave. 

Leadership is about knowing when to pass the baton, not about holding it so tightly that you break the runner behind you. 

The people of Zimbabwe deserve a future that is not held hostage by the pretense that basic governance is a miracle that only one man can perform.

© Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. To directly receive his articles please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08