Opinion / Columnist
Minister Machakaire, instead of suing, just tell us: Are you corrupt or not?
5 hrs ago | Views
When someone resorts to diversionary tactics instead of addressing legitimate questions, it naturally raises suspicion.
In a disturbing turn of events that strikes at the heart of democratic accountability and freedom of expression, the Minister of Youth, Empowerment, Development and Vocational Training, Tino Machakaire, has taken legal action against opposition leader and legal practitioner Fadzayi Mahere.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
Her only “crime" appears to be that she dared to publicly pose questions on X (formerly Twitter) about serious corruption allegations that had been circulating in the public domain.
Instead of responding transparently and clearing his name through open and honest dialogue, the minister has chosen the path of litigation - interpreting questions as defamatory and demanding a public apology and retraction.
This development raises profound concerns for the future of democratic discourse in Zimbabwe.
At the core of any functioning democracy lies the right of citizens to question those in power, particularly public officials who draw salaries from taxpayer money and exercise authority in our name.
When citizens lose the right to seek clarification or demand transparency from their leaders without the threat of legal retaliation, the very fabric of our republic begins to unravel.
Mahere, by asking whether the minister was at the centre of a US$8 million tax evasion case and if charges were dropped under political pressure, was not making conclusive statements.
She was merely raising queries that many ordinary Zimbabweans have whispered in frustration, but perhaps lacked the platform or courage to articulate.
In democratic societies, public officials are expected to maintain a higher threshold for scrutiny and criticism.
This is the price they pay for the privilege of holding public office.
When allegations or rumours about misconduct surface, it is their duty - not optional courtesy - to respond candidly and set the record straight.
In this case, however, Minister Machakaire appears to have chosen evasion over engagement.
Instead of providing clear, factual responses that could easily disprove the allegations or at least put them into context, he has opted to sue the questioner.
It is as if he believes that litigation is a legitimate substitute for transparency.
What makes this even more troubling is that the minister's legal team referenced the Access to Information and Protection of Privacy Act (AIPPA) in their papers - a law that was repealed in 2020.
That a sitting minister's lawyers could cite legislation that no longer exists in Zimbabwe's legal framework is both embarrassing and revealing.
It either points to a careless disregard for legal accuracy or an alarming attempt to intimidate Mahere with obsolete instruments of repression.
AIPPA was widely discredited for stifling press freedom and access to information.
It was repealed and replaced by the Freedom of Information Act, in line with Section 62 of the Constitution, which guarantees every citizen the right to access information held by the state and other public bodies.
To attempt to revive AIPPA from its legal grave only serves to underscore how outdated and authoritarian this whole litigation truly is.
Even more revealing, however, is the minister's own public response - not through a formal statement addressing the allegations or correcting the record, but through a personal and disparaging attack on Mahere's private life.
This was not only immature and unbecoming of a cabinet minister, but also highly ironic.
If defamation is indeed a concern, then what of a senior government official using social media to cast moral aspersions on a woman's personal choices - insinuations which bear no relevance to the issue at hand and appear designed purely to shame, distract, and deflect?
In any civilized society, that would itself be deemed defamatory, if not misogynistic.
The legal letter, while cloaked in the language of defamation and reputational harm, reads more like a gag order than a sincere effort to correct misinformation.
Mahere never categorically stated that the minister was corrupt.
Her post was phrased as a series of questions, structured in the cautious and deliberate way that responsible citizens use when seeking clarity from those in power.
She referenced a known case involving the Zimbabwe Anti-Corruption Commission (ZACC) and simply asked why it had not been pursued to its conclusion.
These are reasonable, constitutionally protected queries - especially in a country where politically connected individuals are frequently perceived to be above the law.
What's more, the questions posed by Mahere actually provided Machakaire with a golden opportunity to clear his name.
He could have presented facts, released documents, or engaged with the public in a way that demonstrated openness and confidence in his own integrity.
Such a move would have not only restored his reputation but boosted his stature as a transparent and confident leader.
But instead of answering, he attacked.
And instead of clarifying, he sued.
That alone speaks volumes.
This case is not merely a personal dispute between a government minister and a political activist.
It is a litmus test for Zimbabwe's commitment to openness, freedom of speech, and democratic accountability.
Are we now living in a country where asking a question is enough to be dragged before the courts?
Are we to accept that social media, one of the few remaining platforms where citizens can still demand answers, will now be patrolled by politically motivated defamation suits?
If this dangerous precedent takes root, it will not only silence activists like Mahere, but also chill the voices of journalists, whistleblowers, and ordinary citizens who dare to question the powerful.
The argument advanced by the minister's lawyers - that Mahere's questions amounted to “quasi-innuendo" or other fanciful legal constructions - is an overreach dressed up in legalese.
No amount of Latin phrasing can disguise the obvious: a public figure was asked to account for his actions, and instead of responding, he retaliated.
If public scrutiny is now being recast as malice, then we have truly lost the meaning of public service.
Even the emphasis on Mahere's large following - as though her visibility makes her speech more dangerous - is misplaced.
It is precisely because of her reach that she has a responsibility to ask questions on behalf of those who do not have the same platform.
That's not abuse of influence - it's responsible citizenship.
Ultimately, this is not about one tweet, one lawsuit, or even one minister.
It is about whether Zimbabwe still allows space for inquiry and critique.
It is about whether power is exercised with humility or weaponised for revenge.
Minister Machakaire's actions have exposed not just his aversion to transparency, but a deeper rot in our political culture - where answering a simple question is seen as a sign of weakness, and suing a citizen is seen as strength.
The people of Zimbabwe are not asking for blood.
They are asking for answers.
They want to know that those in charge of public offices are held to account.
If such basic demands provoke legal threats and personal attacks, then perhaps the minister is not the only one who should be questioned.
In the end, this is more than a case about defamation.
It is a referendum on truth, transparency, and the right of every Zimbabwean to ask those in power: “Are you clean - or are you hiding something?"
If that right is stripped away, then we have far more to fear than one man's bruised ego.
© 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/
In a disturbing turn of events that strikes at the heart of democratic accountability and freedom of expression, the Minister of Youth, Empowerment, Development and Vocational Training, Tino Machakaire, has taken legal action against opposition leader and legal practitioner Fadzayi Mahere.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
Her only “crime" appears to be that she dared to publicly pose questions on X (formerly Twitter) about serious corruption allegations that had been circulating in the public domain.
Instead of responding transparently and clearing his name through open and honest dialogue, the minister has chosen the path of litigation - interpreting questions as defamatory and demanding a public apology and retraction.
This development raises profound concerns for the future of democratic discourse in Zimbabwe.
At the core of any functioning democracy lies the right of citizens to question those in power, particularly public officials who draw salaries from taxpayer money and exercise authority in our name.
When citizens lose the right to seek clarification or demand transparency from their leaders without the threat of legal retaliation, the very fabric of our republic begins to unravel.
Mahere, by asking whether the minister was at the centre of a US$8 million tax evasion case and if charges were dropped under political pressure, was not making conclusive statements.
She was merely raising queries that many ordinary Zimbabweans have whispered in frustration, but perhaps lacked the platform or courage to articulate.
In democratic societies, public officials are expected to maintain a higher threshold for scrutiny and criticism.
This is the price they pay for the privilege of holding public office.
When allegations or rumours about misconduct surface, it is their duty - not optional courtesy - to respond candidly and set the record straight.
In this case, however, Minister Machakaire appears to have chosen evasion over engagement.
Instead of providing clear, factual responses that could easily disprove the allegations or at least put them into context, he has opted to sue the questioner.
It is as if he believes that litigation is a legitimate substitute for transparency.
What makes this even more troubling is that the minister's legal team referenced the Access to Information and Protection of Privacy Act (AIPPA) in their papers - a law that was repealed in 2020.
That a sitting minister's lawyers could cite legislation that no longer exists in Zimbabwe's legal framework is both embarrassing and revealing.
It either points to a careless disregard for legal accuracy or an alarming attempt to intimidate Mahere with obsolete instruments of repression.
AIPPA was widely discredited for stifling press freedom and access to information.
It was repealed and replaced by the Freedom of Information Act, in line with Section 62 of the Constitution, which guarantees every citizen the right to access information held by the state and other public bodies.
To attempt to revive AIPPA from its legal grave only serves to underscore how outdated and authoritarian this whole litigation truly is.
Even more revealing, however, is the minister's own public response - not through a formal statement addressing the allegations or correcting the record, but through a personal and disparaging attack on Mahere's private life.
This was not only immature and unbecoming of a cabinet minister, but also highly ironic.
If defamation is indeed a concern, then what of a senior government official using social media to cast moral aspersions on a woman's personal choices - insinuations which bear no relevance to the issue at hand and appear designed purely to shame, distract, and deflect?
In any civilized society, that would itself be deemed defamatory, if not misogynistic.
The legal letter, while cloaked in the language of defamation and reputational harm, reads more like a gag order than a sincere effort to correct misinformation.
Mahere never categorically stated that the minister was corrupt.
Her post was phrased as a series of questions, structured in the cautious and deliberate way that responsible citizens use when seeking clarity from those in power.
She referenced a known case involving the Zimbabwe Anti-Corruption Commission (ZACC) and simply asked why it had not been pursued to its conclusion.
What's more, the questions posed by Mahere actually provided Machakaire with a golden opportunity to clear his name.
He could have presented facts, released documents, or engaged with the public in a way that demonstrated openness and confidence in his own integrity.
Such a move would have not only restored his reputation but boosted his stature as a transparent and confident leader.
But instead of answering, he attacked.
And instead of clarifying, he sued.
That alone speaks volumes.
This case is not merely a personal dispute between a government minister and a political activist.
It is a litmus test for Zimbabwe's commitment to openness, freedom of speech, and democratic accountability.
Are we now living in a country where asking a question is enough to be dragged before the courts?
Are we to accept that social media, one of the few remaining platforms where citizens can still demand answers, will now be patrolled by politically motivated defamation suits?
If this dangerous precedent takes root, it will not only silence activists like Mahere, but also chill the voices of journalists, whistleblowers, and ordinary citizens who dare to question the powerful.
The argument advanced by the minister's lawyers - that Mahere's questions amounted to “quasi-innuendo" or other fanciful legal constructions - is an overreach dressed up in legalese.
No amount of Latin phrasing can disguise the obvious: a public figure was asked to account for his actions, and instead of responding, he retaliated.
If public scrutiny is now being recast as malice, then we have truly lost the meaning of public service.
Even the emphasis on Mahere's large following - as though her visibility makes her speech more dangerous - is misplaced.
It is precisely because of her reach that she has a responsibility to ask questions on behalf of those who do not have the same platform.
That's not abuse of influence - it's responsible citizenship.
Ultimately, this is not about one tweet, one lawsuit, or even one minister.
It is about whether Zimbabwe still allows space for inquiry and critique.
It is about whether power is exercised with humility or weaponised for revenge.
Minister Machakaire's actions have exposed not just his aversion to transparency, but a deeper rot in our political culture - where answering a simple question is seen as a sign of weakness, and suing a citizen is seen as strength.
The people of Zimbabwe are not asking for blood.
They are asking for answers.
They want to know that those in charge of public offices are held to account.
If such basic demands provoke legal threats and personal attacks, then perhaps the minister is not the only one who should be questioned.
In the end, this is more than a case about defamation.
It is a referendum on truth, transparency, and the right of every Zimbabwean to ask those in power: “Are you clean - or are you hiding something?"
If that right is stripped away, then we have far more to fear than one man's bruised ego.
© 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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