There’s a reason only 13 countries in the world have seven-year presidential term limits!

Tendai Ruben Mbofana

When one hears the name Burundi, what is the immediate mental image that forms?

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When the Central African Republic is mentioned, what visions of statehood and governance come to mind?

What about Gabon, Equatorial Guinea, or Azerbaijan?

Do these names conjure up visions of unshakeable stability, flourishing democratic ideals, and widespread economic prosperity?

Or are they, in the eyes of the global community, viewed as mediocre nations at best—and at worst, states riddled with chronic instability, systemic corruption, civil unrest, and the scars of war?

These nations, disparate in geography and culture, share a singular, telling commonality: they all operate under seven-year presidential term limits.

This is the very same administrative blueprint that the Zimbabwean government now seeks to force upon its people, shifting from the current five-year term under the thin pretext of fostering peace, stability, continuity, and economic development.

The narrative being spun by the “Second Republic” suggests that Zimbabwe’s economic stagnation, political polarization, and recurring instability are somehow the fault of a “too short” five-year window.

It is a disingenuous argument that ignores the reality of governance.

Facts on the ground across the globe prove that a longer presidential term provides no guarantee of stability or progress.

If anything, the evidence suggests the opposite.

A significant number of those thirteen countries currently utilizing the seven-year cycle are on the verge of becoming failed states.

From the civil strife in the Central African Republic to the dynastic entrenchment in Azerbaijan and the decades-long stagnation in Cameroon and Equatorial Guinea, these are not the role models a nation aspiring for modern democratic excellence should be emulating.

Even Rwanda, often cited for its organized infrastructure, remains a nation characterized by authoritarian rule where the seven-year term serves as a tool for total control rather than a vehicle for citizen-led growth.

In the realm of political science and human psychology, a president staying in power for an extended period without the frequent accountability of an election doesn’t guarantee prosperity; it breeds a dangerous sense of entitlement and complacency.

When a leader views the seat of power as a long-term residence rather than a temporary assignment, they become so comfortable that the distinction between the individual and the state begins to blur.

They no longer feel the urgent need to deliver results to earn their stay.

Instead, they focus on capturing state institutions—the judiciary, the security forces, the electoral commission—to ensure that the seat remains theirs indefinitely.

This environment is the primary fertilizer for corruption.

It fosters a culture where the ruling elite feels accountable to no one, and the national treasury is treated as a private piggy bank for the well-connected.

​It was neither an accident nor a historical fluke that the vast majority of the world’s successful democracies adopted the five-year term.

Some, like the United States—the world’s most formidable economic and military power—thrive on a four-year cycle.

History has taught humanity that the most effective system is the one that is “just right.”

It must be long enough for a leader to implement a coherent policy framework and settle into the demands of the office, but short enough to ensure they never lose sight of the fact that they serve at the whim of the people.

This is the “Goldilocks effect” of governance.

Just as the planet Earth is the only one known to harbor life because it sits in the perfect “habitable zone”—not too hot to scorch, not too cold to freeze—a five-year term provides the temperate climate necessary for democracy to breathe.

Any longer, and the heat of absolute power begins to wither the very institutions it claims to protect.

Is it any wonder, then, that out of 195 sovereign states in the world, only thirteen have clung to the seven-year presidential term?

Zimbabwe is currently auditioning to be the fourteenth member of this very small, very disillusioned club.

It is telling that of the handful of nations with seven-year mandates, only Armenia and Israel saw fit to mitigate the risk by restricting their presidents to a solitary term.

This global consensus shows that the international community has long since awakened to the reality that “longer doesn’t mean better.”

This fact utterly crushes the yarn currently being peddled by the Zimbabwean government: the claim that these proposed constitutional amendments are in line with “modern African standards.”

What standards are they referring to?

On a continent of 54 nations, only six utilize the seven-year term, and as we have already established, most of those are categorized as near-failed states or autocracies.

To suggest that Zimbabwe is simply “following suit” with the rest of the continent is a blatant lie intended to gaslight a weary population.

The proposal to extend the presidential term has absolutely nothing to do with the welfare of the ordinary Zimbabwean struggling to put food on the table or find a job in a decimated economy.

It has everything to do with power retention and the preservation of a status quo that benefits a tiny, predatory elite.

By extending the term, the ruling class is essentially buying more time to shield themselves from accountability and more time to consolidate their grip on the nation’s natural resources.

It is about ensuring that the patronage network—the cronies, the hangers-on, and the enablers—can continue their looting without the “inconvenience” of a meaningful electoral challenge every five years.

When we look at the states that Zimbabwe is trying to mimic, we see a mirror of what our future holds if we allow this amendment to pass: a future of entrenched corruption, a stifled opposition, and a presidency that is insulated from the cries of the impoverished.

The “continuity” they promise is not the continuity of development, but the continuity of suffering.

The “stability” they offer is the graveyard silence of a suppressed citizenry.

Zimbabweans must see through this veneer of “reform” and recognize it for what it truly is—a regressive step toward personal rule and away from the democratic aspirations we have bled for.

​We must reject these moves to institutionalize the looting of our national heritage.

A leader who needs seven years to prove their worth will likely need fourteen, then twenty-one, and eventually a lifetime, as the thirst for power is never truly quenched.

We have seen this movie before, and we know how it ends.

It ends with a nation trapped in a cycle of impoverishment while those at the top grow fat on the proceeds of a captured state.

We do not need more time for leaders; we need more accountability from them, anchored by strong, functional, and independent institutions that serve the people rather than the powerful.

We must demand that our government respects the global standard and the will of the people, fostering a system of robust checks and balances rather than dragging us into the company of failed experiments and autocratic outliers.

• Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. To directly receive his articles please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08