Ramaphosa’s furtive visit shows that CAB3 creating more instability and division than any election

The sight of a head of state arriving in a neighboring country usually carries with it the gravitas of a high-office motorcade, the flash of press cameras, and the formal handshake of a diplomatic reception.

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Yet, President Cyril Ramaphosa’s recent visit to Zimbabwe was conducted with the hushed, almost panicked urgency of a secret lover hoping to avoid detection.

There were no red carpets at Robert Gabriel Mugabe International Airport, no guard of honor, and most tellingly, no reception committee featuring the usual senior government officials.

Absent were the two Vice Presidents, Constantino Chiwenga and Kembo Mohadi, and the cabinet was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, the South African leader was spirited away to Precabe, President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s private farm in Kwekwe, bypassing the official corridors of State House and the Munhumutapa offices entirely.

The only political figure of note present was Owen Ncube, a staunch Mnangagwa loyalist, while the rest of the welcoming party consisted of the infamous “Zvigananda”—the leading tenderpreneurs Wicknell Chivayo, Kudakwashe Tagwirei, and Paul Tungwarara.

That the meeting was only confirmed to the public through the social media posts of an excitable Chivayo speaks volumes about the current state of Zimbabwean governance.

When a nation’s diplomacy is filtered through the X feed of a controversial businessman rather than the Ministry of Information, the “mysterious” nature of the visit shifts from a curiosity to a cause for alarm.

Speculation has naturally reached a fever pitch.

To the pro-2030 camp—those zealously pushing for constitutional amendments to extend President Mnangagwa’s tenure—this clandestine rendezvous was a triumphant show of regional solidarity.

They have even gone so far as to claim that Ramaphosa arrived to deliver a stern warning that South Africa would not recognize a coup d’état in Zimbabwe.

But the very mention of a coup reveals the dark undercurrents currently pulling at the fabric of the nation.

Why talk of a military takeover unless the threat is perceived as imminent and real?

This brings us to the more sobering narrative behind this furtive visit.

It is widely believed that Ramaphosa arrived not to endorse an extension of power, but to lower the boiling political temperature.

Zimbabwe is currently a tinderbox, sparked recently by Vice President Chiwenga’s “King Hezekiah” sermon.

In a message that reverberated through the political echelons, Chiwenga spoke of the biblical king who prayed for more years after his time on earth was up, only to find that the fifteen extra years he received were fraught with disastrous consequences.

To any observer, this was not a theological reflection but a direct political warning to Mnangagwa.

Chiwenga’s perceived closeness to the military, stemming from his days as the Commander of the Zimbabwe Defence Forces who spearheaded the 2017 removal of Robert Mugabe, gives his words a weight that few others possess.

If the pro-2030 faction is having sleepless nights, it is because they know that in Zimbabwe, the distance between a sermon and a “correction” is often perilously short.

Ramaphosa’s intervention, whether self-initiated as SADC chair or requested by a nervous Zimbabwean presidency, is rooted in South African self-interest.

South Africa is already grappling with intense anti-immigrant sentiment and protests, primarily targeted at the estimated three million Zimbabweans residing across the Limpopo.

For the ANC government, the issue of migration is a “hot potato” that influences domestic elections and social stability.

Any explosion of conflict in Zimbabwe would inevitably trigger a fresh wave of refugees, creating a humanitarian and political headache that Pretoria is desperate to avoid.

It is therefore highly probable that Ramaphosa urged his counterpart to rethink the Constitution Amendment (No. 3) Bill, or CAB3, as a necessary step to safeguard regional peace.

Whatever the official transcript of that farm meeting says, one truth is undeniable: CAB3 is proving to be a greater threat to stability than any election could ever be.

The bill is achieving the exact opposite of its stated intent.

Proponents have spent months coaching crowds at public hearings to argue that extending the terms of the President and Parliament from five to seven years would remove the “toxicity” of frequent elections and foster national development.

Yet, even before a single ballot has been cast under this proposed framework, CAB3 has already begun to dismantle the ruling ZANU-PF from within.

The power struggle between Mnangagwa and Chiwenga has deepened divisions that now threaten the very core of the state.

The proponents of CAB3 seem to fundamentally misunderstand the gravity of the crisis they have manufactured.

The desire to cling to power beyond constitutional limits is eating into the military command structure.

Both the President and the Vice President have their loyalists within the ranks, and this polarization has the potential to explode into a full-scale civil war.

One need only look at the tragedy of South Sudan to see how this story ends.

South Sudan, a nation born with immense hope, sank into a brutal civil war barely a year after its independence in 2011.

The cause was a mirror image of what we see in Zimbabwe today: a power struggle between President Salva Kiir and his deputy, Riek Machar.

When Kiir moved to consolidate power and eventually sacked his deputy, the military split along loyalty lines.

That war has lasted over a decade, resulting in the deaths of approximately 400,000 people and the displacement of over four million.

A country with so much potential was transformed into a wasteland of destruction simply because leaders could not agree on a peaceful transfer of power.

Zimbabwe faces a similarly perilous path, but with a more complicated military landscape than in years past.

If a coup were to be attempted today, it would not be the “neat” transition witnessed in 2017.

In that year, the military command was largely unified in the belief that Mugabe had to go.

Today, the situation is fractured.

Mnangagwa has spent years “coup-proofing” his administration by systematically replacing perceived threats with loyalists.

However, this is a hollow defense.

Chiwenga still retains massive backing within the security apparatus, and there are undoubtedly “silent ones” who appear neutral while waiting for the wind to shift.

Any attempt to forcibly settle the CAB3 dispute would not be a bloodless transition; it would likely be a protracted and violent military conflict.

This is why a president of a continental powerhouse felt the need to sneak into the country like a thief in the night.

Ramaphosa understands that the dreams of “continuity and national development” promised by CAB3 are illusions.

There is no development in a war zone, and there is no stability in a country where the constitution is treated as a draft to be edited by the highest bidder.

CAB3 does not promise progress; it promises death and destruction.

There is, however, a way to avoid this looming catastrophe.

Zimbabwe already possesses a constitution that is arguably one of the best in the world, born of consensus and the will of the people.

The solution is simple: the President must stick to it.

He must end his tenure in 2028 as the law requires.

For years, Mnangagwa has claimed to be a “constitutionalist” who would step down at the end of his two five-year terms.

He now has the opportunity to prove those words were more than just rhetoric.

He must “persuade the persuaders” within his party to drop this dangerous amendment.

Otherwise, he risks the fate of King Hezekiah—finding that the extra years he fought so hard to gain are the very years that oversee the ruin of his legacy and the destruction of his nation.

• 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