Opinion / Columnist
Has democracy failed in Zimbabwe?
21 hrs ago | Views
This is the million-dollar question we all need to ask ourselves.
Democracy, by its very nature, is a noble and necessary concept.
It is anchored on the principle that every human being, regardless of race, colour, creed, or religion, deserves a voice in determining how they are governed.
Emerging from centuries of oppressive rule, monarchy, and authoritarianism, the idea of democracy was meant to place the power of the state squarely in the hands of the people.
Its benefits are well-documented: accountable leadership, protection of civil liberties, equal participation, and the peaceful transfer of power.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
For nations long denied these rights, democracy offered hope -a fairer, more inclusive system that allowed all citizens the chance to shape their destiny.
Yet, as noble as it is in theory, democracy has not been without its serious drawbacks, especially when transposed into environments where the socio-political infrastructure necessary for its success is either weak or compromised.
In much of Africa, and Zimbabwe in particular, one begins to question whether democracy is truly working as it should.
When citizens are politically illiterate, economically desperate, and emotionally manipulated by propaganda, does democracy retain its value?
Can a people whose understanding of governance is shaped more by political survival than informed choice be expected to choose the best leaders?
These are difficult questions -but ones we must confront.
Let's delve a bit deeper.
Over the past twenty-five years, Zimbabwe has offered a perfect case study of this democratic dysfunction.
We have witnessed large segments of the population convinced -without proof or question -that the country's economic collapse was due to so-called "economic sanctions" imposed by Western nations.
This narrative, tirelessly propagated by the ruling ZANU-PF government, was rarely interrogated.
There was never any clear breakdown of how these supposed sanctions translated into empty shelves, unaffordable basic goods, crumbling hospitals without medication, or schools without books and furniture.
No one explained how these measures could somehow prevent the government from buying cancer or dialysis machines, yet never stopped the ruling elite from acquiring luxury cars, building lavish mansions, or sending their children to study in the very countries they accused of sabotaging the nation.
What kind of sanctions are these that cripple hospitals but not Mercedes-Benz showrooms?
How is it that a country too poor to buy hospital beds still manages to purchase luxury SUVs?
Why do the powerful still afford international medical care while the ordinary citizen dies waiting for painkillers at a government clinic?
These are questions that an informed and politically literate electorate would be asking every day -but that is not the case in Zimbabwe.
Instead, we see the masses parroting state propaganda, unable or unwilling to question contradictions that are laid bare before their very eyes.
Even more disturbing is how poverty itself has been weaponized as a political tool.
Many Zimbabweans today have been subjected to such prolonged deprivation that they no longer remember what dignified living looks like.
When they finally receive food handouts, or see a road resurfaced, or witness the installation of a borehole, they erupt into song and dance, praising the same individuals and institutions that brought about their suffering in the first place.
They do not ask why, 45 years after independence, they still lack piped water or modern infrastructure.
They do not question why their roads fell into disrepair in the first place or why their schools and clinics are in ruins.
Instead, they regard those in power -who are merely performing the duties of their offices -as generous benefactors deserving of eternal gratitude.
If this is not a case of national Stockholm Syndrome, then what is?
Consider the US$88 million Mbudzi Interchange in Harare, hailed by some as a symbol of progress.
Indeed, this roundabout, a notorious traffic bottleneck connecting Harare with Masvingo and serving as a vital link between South Africa and countries like Zambia and the DRC, needed intervention.
Its congestion and accident rate made it a nightmare for commuters.
So, the completion of a modern interchange brought relief.
But should that relief blind us to deeper questions?
Why was the cost so exorbitant?
The interchange was awarded to Fossil Contracting, a company with reported links to controversial figures close to the ruling elite.
Independent engineers have questioned whether the final structure truly justifies such a staggering cost.
For comparison, far more advanced and larger traffic interchanges in South Africa have cost far less.
For instance, the Mount Edgecombe Interchange in Durban, one of the most complex structures in southern Africa, cost under R1.1 billion (roughly US$65 million at the time), despite being vastly more advanced.
Why is it that such basic scrutiny is absent from public discourse?
For some, the mere fact that the notorious roundabout congestion has been resolved is reason enough to celebrate -without questioning anything beyond that.
Why are Zimbabweans not outraged that their hard-earned taxes are being siphoned off in dubious contracts, instead of being channeled to public hospitals that have effectively become death traps, or to schools where children learn seated on the floor?
Is this really how democracy is supposed to function -where voters are indifferent to corruption and incompetence, and instead celebrate cosmetic achievements?
In this context, can we still argue that democracy is working?
In Zimbabwe, it appears that democracy has not only failed to uplift the people, but has actually facilitated their continued oppression -through the ballot.
Those responsible for collapsing the economy and dismantling the nation's social services continue being voted into power by the very people they have impoverished.
This is not democracy; it is self-sabotage disguised as electoral freedom.
Of course, the alternative is unclear.
Some may argue that perhaps a return to traditional leadership -our pre-colonial systems of governance -would offer more accountability.
Chiefs and monarchs were not elected in the modern democratic sense, but neither were they entirely unaccountable.
Their legitimacy was drawn not from votes, but from sacred customs and ancestral endorsement.
Spirit mediums, religious elders, and cultural gatekeepers played a role in vetting leaders and ensuring they ruled fairly, under the spiritual threat of divine punishment.
While these systems were not immune to abuse -and regardless of whether one agrees with their beliefs -they at least had mechanisms rooted in social and cultural values to uphold order and justice.
Our modern leaders, by contrast, appear answerable to no one.
This article does not pretend to offer clear solutions.
Instead, it seeks to ignite a much-needed debate on the viability of democracy in environments where the electorate is either too vulnerable, too misinformed, or too desperate to make rational political decisions.
Democracy, in its purest form, only works when citizens are empowered, educated, and economically secure enough to hold leaders accountable.
When these foundations are absent, what we end up with is not democracy but kleptocracy -where elections become tools of oppression, not liberation.
As long as Zimbabwe remains a country where people celebrate the very leaders who destroy their lives, where propaganda replaces truth, and where survival trumps justice, then we must confront the painful truth: democracy, at least in its current form, has failed.
© 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/
Democracy, by its very nature, is a noble and necessary concept.
It is anchored on the principle that every human being, regardless of race, colour, creed, or religion, deserves a voice in determining how they are governed.
Emerging from centuries of oppressive rule, monarchy, and authoritarianism, the idea of democracy was meant to place the power of the state squarely in the hands of the people.
Its benefits are well-documented: accountable leadership, protection of civil liberties, equal participation, and the peaceful transfer of power.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
For nations long denied these rights, democracy offered hope -a fairer, more inclusive system that allowed all citizens the chance to shape their destiny.
Yet, as noble as it is in theory, democracy has not been without its serious drawbacks, especially when transposed into environments where the socio-political infrastructure necessary for its success is either weak or compromised.
In much of Africa, and Zimbabwe in particular, one begins to question whether democracy is truly working as it should.
When citizens are politically illiterate, economically desperate, and emotionally manipulated by propaganda, does democracy retain its value?
Can a people whose understanding of governance is shaped more by political survival than informed choice be expected to choose the best leaders?
These are difficult questions -but ones we must confront.
Let's delve a bit deeper.
Over the past twenty-five years, Zimbabwe has offered a perfect case study of this democratic dysfunction.
We have witnessed large segments of the population convinced -without proof or question -that the country's economic collapse was due to so-called "economic sanctions" imposed by Western nations.
This narrative, tirelessly propagated by the ruling ZANU-PF government, was rarely interrogated.
There was never any clear breakdown of how these supposed sanctions translated into empty shelves, unaffordable basic goods, crumbling hospitals without medication, or schools without books and furniture.
No one explained how these measures could somehow prevent the government from buying cancer or dialysis machines, yet never stopped the ruling elite from acquiring luxury cars, building lavish mansions, or sending their children to study in the very countries they accused of sabotaging the nation.
What kind of sanctions are these that cripple hospitals but not Mercedes-Benz showrooms?
How is it that a country too poor to buy hospital beds still manages to purchase luxury SUVs?
Why do the powerful still afford international medical care while the ordinary citizen dies waiting for painkillers at a government clinic?
These are questions that an informed and politically literate electorate would be asking every day -but that is not the case in Zimbabwe.
Instead, we see the masses parroting state propaganda, unable or unwilling to question contradictions that are laid bare before their very eyes.
Even more disturbing is how poverty itself has been weaponized as a political tool.
Many Zimbabweans today have been subjected to such prolonged deprivation that they no longer remember what dignified living looks like.
When they finally receive food handouts, or see a road resurfaced, or witness the installation of a borehole, they erupt into song and dance, praising the same individuals and institutions that brought about their suffering in the first place.
They do not ask why, 45 years after independence, they still lack piped water or modern infrastructure.
They do not question why their roads fell into disrepair in the first place or why their schools and clinics are in ruins.
Instead, they regard those in power -who are merely performing the duties of their offices -as generous benefactors deserving of eternal gratitude.
If this is not a case of national Stockholm Syndrome, then what is?
Indeed, this roundabout, a notorious traffic bottleneck connecting Harare with Masvingo and serving as a vital link between South Africa and countries like Zambia and the DRC, needed intervention.
Its congestion and accident rate made it a nightmare for commuters.
So, the completion of a modern interchange brought relief.
But should that relief blind us to deeper questions?
Why was the cost so exorbitant?
The interchange was awarded to Fossil Contracting, a company with reported links to controversial figures close to the ruling elite.
Independent engineers have questioned whether the final structure truly justifies such a staggering cost.
For comparison, far more advanced and larger traffic interchanges in South Africa have cost far less.
For instance, the Mount Edgecombe Interchange in Durban, one of the most complex structures in southern Africa, cost under R1.1 billion (roughly US$65 million at the time), despite being vastly more advanced.
Why is it that such basic scrutiny is absent from public discourse?
For some, the mere fact that the notorious roundabout congestion has been resolved is reason enough to celebrate -without questioning anything beyond that.
Why are Zimbabweans not outraged that their hard-earned taxes are being siphoned off in dubious contracts, instead of being channeled to public hospitals that have effectively become death traps, or to schools where children learn seated on the floor?
Is this really how democracy is supposed to function -where voters are indifferent to corruption and incompetence, and instead celebrate cosmetic achievements?
In this context, can we still argue that democracy is working?
In Zimbabwe, it appears that democracy has not only failed to uplift the people, but has actually facilitated their continued oppression -through the ballot.
Those responsible for collapsing the economy and dismantling the nation's social services continue being voted into power by the very people they have impoverished.
This is not democracy; it is self-sabotage disguised as electoral freedom.
Of course, the alternative is unclear.
Some may argue that perhaps a return to traditional leadership -our pre-colonial systems of governance -would offer more accountability.
Chiefs and monarchs were not elected in the modern democratic sense, but neither were they entirely unaccountable.
Their legitimacy was drawn not from votes, but from sacred customs and ancestral endorsement.
Spirit mediums, religious elders, and cultural gatekeepers played a role in vetting leaders and ensuring they ruled fairly, under the spiritual threat of divine punishment.
While these systems were not immune to abuse -and regardless of whether one agrees with their beliefs -they at least had mechanisms rooted in social and cultural values to uphold order and justice.
Our modern leaders, by contrast, appear answerable to no one.
This article does not pretend to offer clear solutions.
Instead, it seeks to ignite a much-needed debate on the viability of democracy in environments where the electorate is either too vulnerable, too misinformed, or too desperate to make rational political decisions.
Democracy, in its purest form, only works when citizens are empowered, educated, and economically secure enough to hold leaders accountable.
When these foundations are absent, what we end up with is not democracy but kleptocracy -where elections become tools of oppression, not liberation.
As long as Zimbabwe remains a country where people celebrate the very leaders who destroy their lives, where propaganda replaces truth, and where survival trumps justice, then we must confront the painful truth: democracy, at least in its current form, has failed.
© 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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