Mystery, Superstition, and Tragedy- When Workplaces Become Spiritual Battlefields

By Shingirai Vambe

In the old days, it was common to hear employees in mines and big companies boast of their loyalty and the respect they commanded. A worker’s office or tools of trade were sacred—untouchable, even when the individual went on leave. No one dared to use another’s desk, room, or equipment without consent. But beneath that professional respect lay a deeper, more spiritual belief system, one that continues to influence workplaces across Zimbabwe today.

Many people, especially those in senior positions, have long believed that success at work required not just skill and diligence, but spiritual protection. Some would secretly consult traditional healers or prophets before assuming office or during their tenure, seeking divine shields from jealousy and evil spirits. Others went further, embedding charms, talismans, or even symbolic “beacons” on company property, believed to protect their positions or curse anyone who dared take over.

These acts, once whispered about in corridors, have crept into public institutions as well. In Mutare, a Resident Minister, name withheld, reportedly refused to occupy the official government residence, accusing her predecessor of having used traditional protection rituals on the property. “There’s something wrong with that house,” she allegedly said, insisting it was spiritually unsafe. Such stories, while dismissed by some as superstition, have become part of Zimbabwe’s social fabric, where politics, belief, and fear often intersect.

The same undercurrents seem to ripple even through rural schools. In Makoni District, a tragic and bizarre incident recently left teachers and villagers in shock. After a long period without a substantive headmaster, a new head, transferred from Buhera, finally took charge of a rural school near Nyamazira. But barely weeks into his new role, tragedy struck.

It was on a Wednesday, after enter-schools sports competition. Exhausted but eager to return to the station, the headmaster together with another lady teacher, name withheld agreed to take a ride using a motorbike, back to school. “Sir, its now late I can take you to school. It’s faster than walking,” the rider reportedly said. The headmaster agreed.

The road from Rusape to the school stretches 105 kilometers, snaking through Headlands and Chendambuya. The journey is tough, gravel, rough and dusty, with buses leaving Vengere rank at exactly noon. Teachers make sure to board by 11:45 a.m., paying US$6 one way, and arriving back at Nyamazira around 8:30 or 9 p.m. From there, an additional 9 kilometers must be covered by motorbike, another US$6, for those proceeding deeper into the rural hinterlands.

Such is the reality of Zimbabwe’s rural educators. Junior staff rarely leave the villages, visiting town perhaps once a month after payday, while senior teachers and heads often brave the long, bumpy roads for administrative duties.

On this particular day, the new headmaster’s journey ended in disaster. As they rode along the wide gravel stretch, another motorcycle approached from the opposite direction. For reasons still unclear, the two bikes collided head-on, a shocking event given the openness of the road and clear visibility. The crash left four people seriously injured, the headmaster, a lady teacher, and both riders. They were rushed to Rusape General Hospital and admitted in critical yet stable condition.

Yet, beyond the physical wounds, what has left many disturbed is the mystery surrounding the incident. Villagers and colleagues alike are asking, how could two motorbikes collide head-on in such a wide, empty road? Was it mere coincidence, or something deeper?

Whispers in the community point to dark forces, echoing old fears that positions, even back to our rural homes especially those tied to authority, are often spiritually contested. would hear people saying, “you may need to pay your family a visit back home”

“Maybe he walked into someone’s shadow,” one villager murmured. Others dismissed it as an unfortunate accident, the result of exhaustion, fault bikes and bad roads.

But as the story spreads, it has rekindled uncomfortable questions about the hidden world of spiritual rivalries in Zimbabwe’s workplaces, where belief, fear, and ambition often ride side by side, sometimes leading to tragedy.