Let us not transform this constitution into a curse

Every time Zimbabwe has tried to correct itself, power has found a way to turn reform into ruin. We have seen it too many times to pretend this moment is different.

Every time Zimbabwe has tried to correct itself, power has found a way to turn reform into ruin. We have seen it too many times to pretend this moment is different.

Elections, meant to confer legitimacy, have instead delivered trauma. The August 2018 post-election shootings were not an aberration, but a warning. Citizens were killed in broad daylight, and the promise of accountability that followed dissolved into silence.

A commission of inquiry was set up and recommendations were made, but closure never came. Amid tears, justice was deferred — and with it, trust.

If we look further back, the pattern becomes even more disturbing. The Gukurahundi disturbances remain a national wound.

As the Catholic Commission for Justice and Peace documented, about 20 000 lives were lost in a campaign that should never have happened in an independent state. That moment should have united the country around healing and reconciliation. Instead, it entrenched fear and silence.

The tragedy is that even our most justified reforms have followed the same arc. Land reform began as a necessary correction to historical injustice. It was untenable that a small minority held vast tracts of prime land while the majority were pushed to the margins.

Yet the process descended into chaos, violence, and economic collapse. Productive agriculture was crippled, and the consequences are still with us today. Investor confidence evaporated, and a key pillar of the economy was weakened for years. A legitimate cause was captured and distorted.

The same script has played out in the extractive sector. Zimbabwe, blessed with vast mineral wealth, should be one of Africa’s strongest economies.

Instead, billions have slipped through the cracks — lost to smuggling, opaque deals, and weak oversight. The much-publicised diamond revenues from Marange never translated into national prosperity. Once again, opportunity was converted into loss.

This is the context in which the current push to amend the constitution must be understood.

A constitution is not an ordinary document. It is the ultimate safeguard — a restraint on power, a guarantee of rights, and a foundation for stability. It is supposed to be the one arena where Zimbabwe gets it right. But the early signs are deeply troubling.

What should be an open, inclusive national dialogue is fast becoming a controlled process. Dissenting voices are being sidelined or crushed. Critics are facing pressure. The space for robust debate is narrowing. Instead of building consensus, the process risks deepening division. That is how reform turns into ruin.

When a constitution is amended without broad legitimacy, it ceases to be a unifying framework and becomes a political instrument. Once that line is crossed, the consequences are legal, economic, and institutional.

Zimbabwe’s economy is acutely sensitive to perception. Investors do not just look at policy but they also assess governance. They watch how power is exercised, how dissent is treated, and whether rules are stable or subject to manipulation. Right now, the signals are not encouraging.

The country is once again attracting global attention for the wrong reasons. A contested constitutional process, combined with a history of unresolved political tensions, feeds directly into risk calculations. Capital hesitates, and long-term investment decisions are delayed or abandoned.

Tourism, a sector I have covered for over two decades, depends heavily on perceptions of stability. When those signals deteriorate, the impact is immediate.

We have been here before.

Zimbabwe cannot afford another cycle of self-inflicted damage. The economy is already fragile, and confidence is already thin. Any further erosion of trust — whether political or institutional — carries real costs for ordinary citizens. This is why the stakes are so high.

The constitution must remain a shield, not a weapon. It must protect citizens from excess, not enable it. It must bring the country together, not drive it further apart.

Handled with integrity, this moment could signal maturity and proof that Zimbabwe has learned from its dark past and is capable of building a system that works for all. But if mishandled, it will confirm the opposite.

And if that happens, we will be adding yet another curse to a nation that has already endured too many.

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