The Corrupted Meaning of “Businessman” in Zimbabwe
In Zimbabwe, the term “businessman” has undergone a significant transformation. It no longer reflects the true essence of entrepreneurship. Instead, it now often describes individuals who exploit their connections to political power rather than creating value through innovation and hard work.
These so-called entrepreneurs are not wealth creators but rather wealth extractors. They thrive by leveraging their proximity to state power rather than by building sustainable enterprises that serve the public. This reality is evident in the growing desperation among these individuals to protect President Emmerson Mnangagwa at all costs, even supporting calls for him to extend his rule beyond constitutional limits.
There are reports—though conflicting—that Kudakwashe Tagwirei, one of the most notorious figures in this group, has been brought into the ZANU-PF Central Committee. Whether confirmed or denied, this suggests a dangerous overlap between politics and business, highlighting the efforts of these individuals to secure their future in a post-Mnangagwa era.
But why the panic? After all, Mnangagwa’s term limit in 2028 is unlikely to result in an opposition government. Zimbabwe’s opposition is fragmented and incapable of mounting a serious challenge. A more likely scenario is another ZANU-PF presidency, with Vice President Constantino Chiwenga as the natural successor.
Chiwenga, who led the 2017 coup that brought Mnangagwa to power, represents a different kind of leadership. Analysts believe that the real fear is not about losing power but about Chiwenga himself. He is seen as a potential threat to those who have used state power for personal gain. His reputation as a man who could investigate sources of questionable wealth, cut off unfair access to public tenders, and dismantle patronage networks makes him a formidable figure.
For individuals like Tagwirei, Chivayo, Tungwarara, Sakupwanya, and Chimuka, the prospect of Chiwenga becoming president is terrifying. Their fortunes were built on privilege, not merit, through inflated tenders, shady mining rights, and illicit activities. Without political protection, they would collapse.
Wicknell Chivayo, for example, was once convicted of money laundering under Mugabe’s regime. However, under Mnangagwa, he became untouchable, with his name linked to a scandal involving R1.1 billion paid to a South African company for election materials. Similar concerns surround other deals, raising questions about how such sensitive contracts were awarded.
Tagwirei’s rise is also illustrative. His empire, built on state favors, includes controversial acquisitions of stakes in banks, opaque mining ventures, and control over fuel supply. Through associates like Obey Chimuka, contracts have been awarded at inflated prices, further exposing the fragility of this so-called business elite.
Paul Tungwarara, another key figure, has benefited from various high-value tenders, including a reported $15 million contract to build a precast wall around State House. His involvement in the $500 million cyber city project in Mt. Hampden raises similar eyebrows.
These examples highlight the deep-rooted issues within Zimbabwe’s economy. If these individuals were genuine entrepreneurs, they would not be afraid of leadership changes within ZANU-PF. Real entrepreneurs thrive regardless of who is in power because they provide value that society needs.
Strive Masiyiwa of Econet Wireless is a prime example. His business remains relevant regardless of political changes because it is based on innovation and service delivery. He does not rely on political connections or opaque tender processes to succeed.
The fear of Chiwenga among these individuals reveals their awareness of the illegitimacy of their wealth. Without Mnangagwa’s protection, they would face scrutiny. Their obsession with keeping Mnangagwa in office or ensuring a successor like Tagwirei is driven by the fear of accountability.
This issue affects not just these individuals but the entire country. These so-called businessmen drain resources that should be used for hospitals, schools, roads, and jobs. Their reliance on political patronage stifles fair competition and discourages genuine entrepreneurship.
Their lavish lifestyles, showcased on social media, contrast sharply with the struggles of ordinary Zimbabweans who face daily hardships. This is a tragic situation where parasites masquerade as entrepreneurs, and state capture is celebrated as success.
Zimbabwe needs genuine entrepreneurs who can build industries, create jobs, and add value to the economy. It needs individuals who can compete fairly in the global marketplace without relying on political connections. The country must move away from parasitic figures and toward real builders.
Until the influence of these tenderpreneurs is broken, Zimbabwe will continue to suffer from the exploitation of those who mistake proximity to power for true entrepreneurship. Until Zimbabweans recognize the difference between a businessman and a leech, the cycle of destruction will persist.