Chiwenga’s Warning on “Zvigananda” Highlights Corruption, Disunity, and the Desperation of Ordinary Citizens

Zimbabwe’s Endless Struggles…

By Shingirai Vambe

HARARE – On Sunday, the pews and open grounds of New Highfield Roman Catholic Church were filled with thousands of young people who came to hear Vice-President Constantino Chiwenga speak on the scourge of drug and substance abuse. Yet, beneath the sermon on addiction lay another message – one that pierced through Zimbabwe’s uneasy socio-political fabric.

Chiwenga, speaking with the authority of both a statesman and a preacher, lashed out at the shadowy political and business elite whom he has come to call zvigananda — a Shona word likening them to ticks engorged with blood.

“Some are even getting into drugs and you hear some saying, I will give you a car tomorrow,” Chiwenga said, in an apparent jab at Zanu PF benefactors who have been showering cars and gifts on loyalists. The loudest whispers pointed to businessman Wicknell Chivayo, a controversial tenderpreneur whose name has become synonymous with extravagant donations and questionable deals.

The crowd cheered, but for many young Zimbabweans listening, the reality outside the church walls was sobering. Addiction to drugs and substances is no longer just a social ill, it is a symptom of a country in economic and moral crisis. With unemployment soaring above 80% by some estimates, and opportunities shrinking daily, young people have turned to cheap drugs like crystal meth (“mutoriro”), cough syrups, and other substances as a dangerous escape.

Chiwenga’s rebuke of zvigananda was not new. In June this year, at the Zimbabwe National Chamber of Commerce Congress in Victoria Falls, he accused the so-called businessmen of flaunting unexplained wealth while the majority starve. Without naming names, he condemned the “culture of phantom entrepreneurship” that thrives on government contracts, corruption, and political patronage.

“We all know that money does not fall from the heavens like manna. Real businesses are built through hard work, discipline, sacrifice and value creation. The day of reckoning is inevitable,” Chiwenga warned at the time, drawing applause.

The Vice-President’s remarks came after reports that the government had awarded a US$437 million tender for cancer equipment to Chivayo’s six-month-old company, TTM Global Medical Exports, whose address turned out to be a hotel room in Johannesburg.

Such revelations cut deep into the psyche of ordinary Zimbabweans, who for decades have watched national resources being looted while hospitals run out of basic drugs, maternity wards turn away mothers, and graduates wander the streets without jobs.

For the average Zimbabwean, both at home and abroad, corruption is not just a political buzzword, it is lived reality. At hospitals, patients are asked to bring their own gloves, syringes, and sometimes even fuel for ambulances. In the villages, farmers struggle to access markets dominated by cartels, while mining communities watch foreign companies and politically connected elites siphon off wealth from their lands.

Abroad, particularly in South Africa, Botswana, and the UK, Zimbabweans face a different kind of struggle, stigma and exclusion. Many left home not out of choice, but as economic refugees. They send remittances that sustain families back home, but often live on the margins, facing police crackdowns, xenophobia, or menial jobs that don’t match their qualifications.

As one young man from Mbare who attended the church event said afterwards, “They talk of corruption, but nothing changes. We are the ones who suffer. Drugs are destroying my generation because there is nothing else to do. If you don’t drink, you smoke; if you don’t smoke, you cross the border to hustle. Either way, you are running away from something.”

Chiwenga’s attack on zvigananda has also been interpreted as more than just moral outrage. Analysts see it as a signal of the deepening power struggle within Zanu PF over President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s succession.

The President’s loyalists, reportedly backed by wealthy businessmen such as Kudakwashe Tagwirei, are said to be pushing for an extension of Mnangagwa’s term beyond 2028 — a move that would sideline Chiwenga. The Vice-President, who commands respect within the military and among some sections of the ruling party, has repeatedly framed corruption as a national security threat — a thinly veiled shot at his rivals.

But for ordinary citizens, these power struggles among the political elite offer little hope. Instead, they watch the spectacle unfold while their children fall deeper into poverty, drugs, and despair.

Zimbabwe is estimated to be losing billions annually through corruption, smuggling of gold and diamonds, and illicit financial flows. These losses are not abstract figures; they translate into collapsed infrastructure, unpaid teachers, dilapidated clinics, and a failing economy that pushes its citizens to the brink, and sometimes across borders.

When Chiwenga warns that “the day of reckoning is coming,” many Zimbabweans respond with skepticism. For decades, similar promises have been made, yet the zvigananda,  the engorged ticks, continue to thrive while the ordinary person struggles to put food on the table.

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