Opinion / Columnist
When a Child President wears the 'Mnangagwa scarf', we must all be concerned
6 hrs ago | Views
Train up a child in the way you want them to grow, they say - but when this guidance is rooted in manipulation and politics, it risks ruining their lives before they've even begun.
There was something deeply disturbing about today's sitting of Zimbabwe's Children's Parliament, held in commemoration of the Day of the African Child.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
What should have been a celebration of young people's voices and a platform to amplify their concerns, was instead turned into an unsettling display of political mimicry.
The sight of the newly appointed Child President, Lionel Mazarire, donning the now-infamous scarf associated with President Emmerson Mnangagwa - flanked by an entourage of tight child security - felt like a betrayal of what this event is supposed to stand for.
To the casual observer, the scarf, bearing the colors of the national flag, might appear harmless - perhaps even patriotic.
But in Zimbabwe, we know better.
That scarf is not a national symbol of unity or love for country.
It is a partisan symbol.
It is Mnangagwa's personal brand - his unmistakable trademark - worn primarily by those who openly pledge allegiance to him.
Even within ZANU-PF, it is largely embraced by his loyalists and inner circle, especially in a party long marked by factionalism and infighting.
Most ordinary Zimbabweans choose not to wear the scarf - not because they are prohibited, but because they recognize what it truly represents.
It has ceased to be a symbol of national pride and has instead become a badge of political fealty to one man.
This isn't merely symbolic.
It is political indoctrination at its most sinister.
That scarf has sparked outrage in Parliament itself, where opposition lawmakers rightly objected to its presence in the August House.
They demanded its removal, arguing that it violated the non-partisan decorum expected in the legislature.
In one notable incident in 2024, Matabeleland North women's quota MP Elizabeth Masuku was ordered by Speaker Jacob Mudenda to remove the "Mnangagwa scarf" during a question-and-answer session, affirming that this is not just a fashion statement - it is a loaded political symbol.
So, when a child is made to wear it in the highest symbolic office of youth representation, the message is not subtle.
It is loud and alarming: even our children must now be conscripted into the Mnangagwa cult of personality.
This raises grave concerns over the integrity and impartiality of the Children's Parliament and the child presidency.
It is meant to be a non-partisan, inclusive, and safe space where young Zimbabweans can articulate their hopes, frustrations, and demands to those in power.
Instead, it now appears to be hijacked by a regime eager to use children as pawns in its broader agenda - an agenda that includes clinging to power amid growing national discontent.
Let us not forget the "ED 2030 Agenda" campaign currently being pushed feverishly by Mnangagwa loyalists, lobbying for his term to be extended beyond the constitutional limit of two five-year terms, which ends in 2028.
Are we now to believe that even children are being roped into this dangerous political scheme?
We must interrogate how child presidents are selected in Zimbabwe.
On paper, the process involves a series of debate competitions and merit-based evaluations around children's rights issues, culminating in the election of a representative from among the best-performing provincial candidates.
That is the official narrative.
But when we see a child president adorned in partisan regalia, the questions arise: was this process truly free and fair?
Was it merit-based?
Or was it manipulated to favor children of the politically connected - perhaps those whose parents serve the Mnangagwa regime?
These suspicions are no longer wild conspiracies.
They are a natural reaction in a country where public institutions, from the judiciary to the civil service, have been captured and corrupted.
But perhaps the most tragic element of all this is the silencing of genuine youth grievances in a time of unprecedented suffering.
Zimbabwe is in crisis, and children are among the worst affected.
As we speak, over 3.5 million children face hunger and are in dire need of humanitarian assistance.
According to UNICEF, the rate of child wasting - an indicator of acute malnutrition - has worsened, rising from 4.1% to 4.9% in 2024.
An estimated 580,000 young children are living in severe food poverty.
These are not abstract statistics; they represent real children, whose futures are being stunted by poverty, hunger, and hopelessness.
This hopelessness manifests in other tragic ways.
Last year alone, around 50,000 children dropped out of school due to poverty.
Some were forced out because their parents could no longer afford school fees.
Others succumbed to teenage pregnancies, often linked to transactional relationships and early "marriages" born out of desperation.
Drug abuse has surged among youth as a coping mechanism in a society that has little to offer.
Meanwhile, unemployment for the youth stands above 90 percent, with many forced into informal street vending, dangerous artisanal mining, or even prostitution - regardless of education level.
It is a scandal that university graduates are increasingly enrolling in nurse aide courses, not to serve locally, but in hopes of securing menial caregiving jobs in the United Kingdom.
It is degrading and demoralizing, especially for those who once believed in the promise of education.
And yet, even for those still in school, the conditions are abysmal.
Most schools lack the most basic infrastructure - books, chairs, desks - let alone access to modern learning technologies.
Pass rates at Ordinary Level are dismally low, with over 70% of candidates failing to pass, and some rural schools even recording a shocking 0% pass rate.
The education system is collapsing.
So, when these children are gathered and given a microphone before government officials, we must ask: did they demand answers for these calamities?
Did they ask President Mnangagwa why, in a country overflowing with precious minerals and natural wealth, they are still going to bed hungry?
Did they ask why some individuals - politically connected and immune to prosecution - continue to receive inflated multi-million-dollar contracts without proper tender processes?
Did they ask why the elite grow fat while their parents scavenge for crumbs?
These are the questions that matter.
And yet, we did not hear them.
This absence of bold, uncomfortable questions underscores the extent to which the Children's Parliament has been neutered.
It is now a carefully choreographed charade, a stage-managed performance meant to create the illusion of responsiveness.
But it is neither empowering nor liberating.
In truth, it has become a tool for exploiting children, dressing them up in political costumes and teaching them to parrot official lines instead of questioning them.
This is more than a missed opportunity.
It is an abuse of innocence.
Instead of nurturing a generation of critical thinkers and courageous leaders, the regime is grooming a generation of obedient loyalists - taught from a young age that the path to recognition lies in mimicry, not merit; in loyalty to power, not truth.
Zimbabwe's children deserve better.
They deserve leaders who will listen without conditioning them to conform.
They deserve platforms where their voices are not only heard but respected.
And they certainly deserve to be protected from becoming tools in a toxic political game.
The Mnangagwa administration should be ashamed.
● 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/
There was something deeply disturbing about today's sitting of Zimbabwe's Children's Parliament, held in commemoration of the Day of the African Child.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
What should have been a celebration of young people's voices and a platform to amplify their concerns, was instead turned into an unsettling display of political mimicry.
The sight of the newly appointed Child President, Lionel Mazarire, donning the now-infamous scarf associated with President Emmerson Mnangagwa - flanked by an entourage of tight child security - felt like a betrayal of what this event is supposed to stand for.
To the casual observer, the scarf, bearing the colors of the national flag, might appear harmless - perhaps even patriotic.
But in Zimbabwe, we know better.
That scarf is not a national symbol of unity or love for country.
It is a partisan symbol.
It is Mnangagwa's personal brand - his unmistakable trademark - worn primarily by those who openly pledge allegiance to him.
Even within ZANU-PF, it is largely embraced by his loyalists and inner circle, especially in a party long marked by factionalism and infighting.
Most ordinary Zimbabweans choose not to wear the scarf - not because they are prohibited, but because they recognize what it truly represents.
It has ceased to be a symbol of national pride and has instead become a badge of political fealty to one man.
This isn't merely symbolic.
It is political indoctrination at its most sinister.
That scarf has sparked outrage in Parliament itself, where opposition lawmakers rightly objected to its presence in the August House.
They demanded its removal, arguing that it violated the non-partisan decorum expected in the legislature.
In one notable incident in 2024, Matabeleland North women's quota MP Elizabeth Masuku was ordered by Speaker Jacob Mudenda to remove the "Mnangagwa scarf" during a question-and-answer session, affirming that this is not just a fashion statement - it is a loaded political symbol.
So, when a child is made to wear it in the highest symbolic office of youth representation, the message is not subtle.
It is loud and alarming: even our children must now be conscripted into the Mnangagwa cult of personality.
This raises grave concerns over the integrity and impartiality of the Children's Parliament and the child presidency.
It is meant to be a non-partisan, inclusive, and safe space where young Zimbabweans can articulate their hopes, frustrations, and demands to those in power.
Instead, it now appears to be hijacked by a regime eager to use children as pawns in its broader agenda - an agenda that includes clinging to power amid growing national discontent.
Let us not forget the "ED 2030 Agenda" campaign currently being pushed feverishly by Mnangagwa loyalists, lobbying for his term to be extended beyond the constitutional limit of two five-year terms, which ends in 2028.
Are we now to believe that even children are being roped into this dangerous political scheme?
We must interrogate how child presidents are selected in Zimbabwe.
On paper, the process involves a series of debate competitions and merit-based evaluations around children's rights issues, culminating in the election of a representative from among the best-performing provincial candidates.
That is the official narrative.
But when we see a child president adorned in partisan regalia, the questions arise: was this process truly free and fair?
Was it merit-based?
Or was it manipulated to favor children of the politically connected - perhaps those whose parents serve the Mnangagwa regime?
These suspicions are no longer wild conspiracies.
They are a natural reaction in a country where public institutions, from the judiciary to the civil service, have been captured and corrupted.
But perhaps the most tragic element of all this is the silencing of genuine youth grievances in a time of unprecedented suffering.
Zimbabwe is in crisis, and children are among the worst affected.
According to UNICEF, the rate of child wasting - an indicator of acute malnutrition - has worsened, rising from 4.1% to 4.9% in 2024.
An estimated 580,000 young children are living in severe food poverty.
These are not abstract statistics; they represent real children, whose futures are being stunted by poverty, hunger, and hopelessness.
This hopelessness manifests in other tragic ways.
Last year alone, around 50,000 children dropped out of school due to poverty.
Some were forced out because their parents could no longer afford school fees.
Others succumbed to teenage pregnancies, often linked to transactional relationships and early "marriages" born out of desperation.
Drug abuse has surged among youth as a coping mechanism in a society that has little to offer.
Meanwhile, unemployment for the youth stands above 90 percent, with many forced into informal street vending, dangerous artisanal mining, or even prostitution - regardless of education level.
It is a scandal that university graduates are increasingly enrolling in nurse aide courses, not to serve locally, but in hopes of securing menial caregiving jobs in the United Kingdom.
It is degrading and demoralizing, especially for those who once believed in the promise of education.
And yet, even for those still in school, the conditions are abysmal.
Most schools lack the most basic infrastructure - books, chairs, desks - let alone access to modern learning technologies.
Pass rates at Ordinary Level are dismally low, with over 70% of candidates failing to pass, and some rural schools even recording a shocking 0% pass rate.
The education system is collapsing.
So, when these children are gathered and given a microphone before government officials, we must ask: did they demand answers for these calamities?
Did they ask President Mnangagwa why, in a country overflowing with precious minerals and natural wealth, they are still going to bed hungry?
Did they ask why some individuals - politically connected and immune to prosecution - continue to receive inflated multi-million-dollar contracts without proper tender processes?
Did they ask why the elite grow fat while their parents scavenge for crumbs?
These are the questions that matter.
And yet, we did not hear them.
This absence of bold, uncomfortable questions underscores the extent to which the Children's Parliament has been neutered.
It is now a carefully choreographed charade, a stage-managed performance meant to create the illusion of responsiveness.
But it is neither empowering nor liberating.
In truth, it has become a tool for exploiting children, dressing them up in political costumes and teaching them to parrot official lines instead of questioning them.
This is more than a missed opportunity.
It is an abuse of innocence.
Instead of nurturing a generation of critical thinkers and courageous leaders, the regime is grooming a generation of obedient loyalists - taught from a young age that the path to recognition lies in mimicry, not merit; in loyalty to power, not truth.
Zimbabwe's children deserve better.
They deserve leaders who will listen without conditioning them to conform.
They deserve platforms where their voices are not only heard but respected.
And they certainly deserve to be protected from becoming tools in a toxic political game.
The Mnangagwa administration should be ashamed.
● 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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