Zimbabwe will never be free with more analysts than activists

 

As more Zimbabweans sink deeper into poverty and the grip of a repressive regime tightens, there’s a familiar and haunting question that those watching from afar always ask: Why is it that these oppressed citizens do not rise against their tormentors?

What makes a population—over 90% of whom are not formally employed and more than 80% pushed into poverty—appear powerless against those who have authored their misery?

Why are millions of Zimbabweans held in shackles by a tiny elite, who plunder national resources meant for all and convert them into symbols of obscene personal wealth?

How is it that a small clique of oligarchs, aligned with the ruling elite, can arrogantly flaunt their ill-gotten riches in the midst of devastating deprivation, where millions rely on humanitarian aid just to survive?

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Why are we seemingly unmoved when our loved ones die needlessly in under-resourced public hospitals, where the most basic medications and critical equipment are missing?

On what logic do we simply watch as our children’s dreams are shattered by a decaying education system that seldom produces a national O-Level pass rate above 30%, with many schools even recording 0% pass rates?

These children graduate into a crippled economy where there are no decent job opportunities—left to scrounge for survival through street vending, touting, or other so-called “income-generating projects.”

And yet, through it all, we rarely ask: Why don’t we rise up and say enough is enough?

Why is the nation not boiling with outrage?

Surely, in any other country, this intolerable repression and stripping of human dignity would not be tolerated.

The people would have acted.

But in Zimbabwe, we don’t act.

We are not a people of action.

I say this not as an outsider casting blame from a distance, but as someone deeply embedded in this society and equally guilty of inaction.

I’m not entirely certain why we are like this. I am no psychologist.

There are those who suggest that the Shona culture of passivity and docility—often mistaken for humility and respect—may be partly to blame.

Others cite religion, especially Christianity, which is followed by over 85% of the population, and has often been distorted to justify oppression and encourage acceptance of suffering as part of divine will.

As a Christian myself, I’ve tried to challenge such harmful interpretations of scripture and provide a more accurate, liberating view of the Bible.

Then there are those who trace our current paralysis to a long, painful history of repression—from colonial subjugation to the Gukurahundi genocide, the brutal suppression of dissent in the 2000s, and the cold-blooded killings under the so-called Second Republic.

These atrocities have undoubtedly left behind a traumatized population, terrified of confronting the ruling elite.

Any of these explanations—or a combination—may be true.

Yet, regardless of the reasons, the fact remains: Zimbabweans are not action-oriented people.

We allow our oppressors to continue their wickedness largely unchecked.

And while this is bad enough, what’s even more disturbing is that we are never short of analysts who can eloquently dissect the situation, offer insights, and share opinions—myself included.

That’s what I’m doing right now.

I can easily articulate why Zimbabweans don’t stand up.

I can theorize what needs to be done.

I can explain whether war veteran Blessed Geza’s calls for protests against President Emmerson Mnangagwa are viable or doomed to fail.

I can tell you whether efforts to impeach the president are strategic or fantastical.

But where was I on March 31, when Geza called for nationwide protests against Mnangagwa’s failed leadership and the entrenched corruption within his regime?

I was safely tucked away in my home.

And that’s the truth—a painful truth we all need to confront.

Zimbabwe’s greatest tragedy today is that we have more analysts than activists.

By activists, I don’t mean those who speak out against injustice or advocate for causes.

That’s advocacy—something I proudly engage in.

An activist is someone who goes beyond speaking.

An activist acts.

They take concrete, often risky steps to bring about the change they seek.

You don’t need to be part of a civil society organization to be an activist.

You just need the courage to act.

Our liberation war heroes were activists.

They didn’t write articles or tweet condemnations.

They took real action.

In today’s Zimbabwe, that spirit has withered.

We now have a nation filled with armchair revolutionaries who critique, theorize, and post from the safety of their smartphones and laptops.

Yes, even that can invite the wrath of the regime—many have been arrested or brutalized for social media posts—but most still see this as a safer alternative to real confrontation.

I’m not judging based solely on the turnout for Geza’s protest.

I’m aware many Zimbabweans saw his call as a ZANU-PF internal feud that had little to do with the common man.

That’s understandable.

But let’s be honest: even if the demonstrations had been called by the opposition, very few would have dared face the regime’s violent response.

This is who we have become: a nation of critics without courage, a land of thinkers who do not act.

We roar like lions behind keyboards, but when the regime bares its teeth, we retreat like chickens.

This is what holds us back from true liberation.

As long as we remain trapped in this culture of analysis without action, we will remain shackled.

There will be no promised land. No freedom.

It’s time we acknowledge this bitter truth.

Talking about change has its place, yes—but it is never a substitute for action.

Freedom is not won in WhatsApp groups or Facebook comment sections.

It is earned through sacrifice, courage, and concrete steps taken on the ground.

A country with more analysts than activists will never be free.

And until we cross that line—from advocacy to action, from analysis to activism—we will remain exactly where we are: oppressed, impoverished, and powerless.

• Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to WhatsApp or Call: +263715667700 | +263782283975, or email: mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com, or visit website: https://mbofanatendairuben.news.blog/