Author: Tawonga Kurewa

In the vast, dusty depot of Zimbabwean politics, the national bus of ZANU-PF does not suffer fools gladly. It is a vehicle with a brutal memory, one that has, time and again, ruthlessly purged those who mistake temporary influence for permanent power. Eight years ago, the ambitious passengers known as G40, who hitched their wagons to Grace Mugabe’s shooting star, were unceremoniously tossed off the bus. They bet on the wrong driver, lured by promises of a shortcut to power, only to find themselves scattered in exile, their dreams crushed. Today, as the bus lurches towards another critical junction, a…

For months, we have watched with a mix of horror and morbid fascination as the unqualified driver, Mamvura, has tried to bribe, bully, and bluff his way into the driver’s seat of our national bus. He has flaunted his ill-gotten wealth, believing that the keys to the company, ZANU-PF, and the nation itself, were simply a matter of price. But a series of stunning and decisive events suggests that the “day of reckoning”—long prophesied by principled voices—is finally at hand. The veteran supervisors of the bus company have stood up, the rule book has been thrown in his face, and…

To the custodians of ZANU-PF—to the men and women who carry the authentic memory of the liberation struggle in their hearts and in their scars—this is a final warning. The rot we have spoken of in whispers has now become an international spectacle. The warnings are no longer just internal murmurs; they are bombshell reports from our neighbours. A senior police general in South Africa has allegedly branded the party we fought for an “international criminal organization,” a charge so grave it threatens the very soul of our revolution. The cancer of corruption, which many may have tolerated as a…

The curtain rises on the manicured lawns of the Royal Golf Club. The stage is set not for a game of sport, but for an obscene piece of political theatre. The two main actors enter. First, the beleaguered Company Manager, President Emmerson Mnangagwa, his authority visibly fraying after months of internal party strife. Then comes the antagonist, the disgraced but defiant Kudakwashe “Mamvura” Tagwirei, fresh from his public humiliation at the hands of the party’s principled custodians. Let us be clear. What unfolded was not a fundraiser for students; it was a meticulously choreographed performance of power. It was a…

At 02:30 AM on Tuesday, July 29th, while an unaware nation slept, a ghost flight slipped through the dark skies and made an unscheduled, unusual request to land at Robert Gabriel Mugabe International Airport. It was discreetly escorted to a secluded ramp, shielded from all public scrutiny. From its belly emerged not investors, but twelve shadowy, heavily-built individuals from Eastern Europe. With the hardened, disciplined look of special operatives, these were GI Joes, not businessmen. As they stepped onto the tarmac, a fleet of black, expensive SUVs—part of Kudakwashe Tagwirei’s personal convoy—materialized out of the darkness and whisked them away…