Requiem for the Zim dream
of the black nationalist guerrilla units into the regular armed forces.
In front of a jubilant crowd at Rufaro Stadium, Jamaican reggae maestro Bob Marley and the Wailers band serenaded the birth of a new nation with a pan-Africanist song Zimbabwe — a song that became an anthem for the country’s long and agonising march to freedom. For those who witnessed the surreal event, the lyrics still echo:
“Every man has the right to decide his own destiny
And in this judgment, there is no partiality
So arm in arms, with arms, we'll fight this little struggle
Cause that's the only way we can, overcome our little trouble . . .”
There was genuine international goodwill. Prince Charles, then heir to the British Monarch and now King, presided over the ceremony. His presence legitimised the transition. The British government then led by Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher pledged co-operation with Mugabe’s government. Mugabe downplayed his Marxist inclinations and he became a darling of the West. Zimbabwe was welcome among nations.
The Zimbabwean dream was encapsulated in the hearts and minds of those who sacrificed themselves for a better tomorrow. A better tomorrow, where people can live in peace, harmony and prosperity. A better tomorrow, where the colour of your skin or who you are does not determine your fate.
When the independence jamboree was over, the task at hand was colossal: uniting a war-torn country with many still licking their wounds and developing the rural periphery after decades of neglect — basically forging a nation State. Mugabe gave a prescient warning at the independence ceremony as if he was prophetic: “I must ask you to be patient and allow my government time to organise the programmes that will effectively yield that change.” In hindsight, this was a premonition — a warning for the painful journey ahead. To some, that change is yet to come.
Initially, the dream seemed to be materialising. Under Mugabe, Zimbabwe became a breadbasket for Southern Africa. His government also built schools and clinics in the once-neglected rural areas and thus increased literacy rates and life expectancy. Zimbabwe was hailed as a role model for post-colonial reconciliation, development and peace. The Zimbabwean dream reverberated across Africa. It inspired neighbouring nations such as South Africa and Namibia. It kindled the flames of optimism that a people driven by hope can be masters of their destiny.
Then, something went wrong. Things began to unravel. The dream began to feel like disillusionment. The dream has been elusive since then. Many things went wrong. But, most importantly, at independence, Zimbabwe inherited distorted, extractive, and exclusive institutions whose purpose was to cater to a few. The colonial State was not designed to be a bonanza — a buffet. For a short while, it gave a facade of efficiency and productivity. But in the face of international shocks, increased mass expectations, and lack of modification, the system began to fall apart. It was not too late until the new ruling black elite realised it could use these institutions to protect its interests — power and wealth. This was what the system was designed to do.
As Zimbabwe turns 44, it is apparent that the Zimbabwean dream has turned into a regrettable tale of despair, shattered aspirations and unfulfilled promises — a poignant reminder of the suffering Zimbabweans have endured.
One of the saddest stories of Zimbabwe has been the economy. Once a proud breadbasket. It has degenerated into a begging empty basket. The agricultural sector, once the mainstay of the economy, crumbled since the misguided land reform programme in the early 2000s. The Zimbabwean economy has never been the same since then. The consequences have been catastrophic. Zimbabwe now grapples with a sluggish economy, unemployment, widespread poverty, and a slew of pseudo-currencies that are foisted upon society.