A pig by any other name is still a pig.
When President Emmerson Mnangagwa stepped before Zimbabweans in New York to pitch his vision, he offered a remarkable piece of semantic gymnastics.
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Addressing citizens who fled our country’s economic ruin, he urged them to view their exile not as “brain drain,” but as “brain circulation”. He spoke of remote surgeons, off-site engineers, and virtual mentors transferring skills from afar, assuring the crowd that they need not return permanently to make an impact. It is a breathtaking attempt to beautify a pig.
Reframing a devastating national hemorrhaging of talent as a harmless, dynamic global exchange does not alter the harsh reality on the ground. You cannot rename a disaster and pretend it has transformed into a virtue. The scale of this exodus is staggering, with estimates suggesting anywhere between three and five million Zimbabweans now live in the diaspora—a third of our total population scattered across the globe.
This is not a voluntary sabbatical; it is a desperate flight for survival. If the government truly believes that “brain circulation” reflects a contented citizenry, a recent Afrobarometer survey delivers a damning reality check. More than half of all Zimbabweans—and a staggering 75% of those with post-secondary education—say they are considering emigrating. When three out of four highly educated citizens are actively looking for the nearest exit, it is not a dynamic exchange of global skills; it is a vote of no confidence in the leadership of the country.
There is nothing to be proud of in a country struggling with massive deindustrialization, lagging behind in science, technology, and innovation, and suffering from a catastrophic deficit of engineers, IT experts, and specialized doctors. Consider our public healthcare system. Despite the expansion of nurse training institutions across the nation, our hospitals remain dangerously understaffed. The reason is simple: newly trained nurses flee Zimbabwe almost immediately for care work in places like the United Kingdom.
Left behind are crippled public health institutions, where a handful of overworked and underpaid professionals try to save lives without basic medication or functional equipment. The result is an endless cycle of needless patient deaths. Calling this “circulation” is an insult to the victims and the exhausted workers left behind. The absurdity deepens when looking at the modern global economy.
How can the government boast about circulation when Zimbabwe faces a critical talent gap in software engineering, cybersecurity, data analytics, and artificial intelligence? Our people possess world-class capability—some even lead major global tech firms like Google—yet their native country remains digitally stranded. Even in our traditional strengths, the damage is severe. Zimbabwe sits atop a treasure trove of mineral wealth, yet we fail to maximize its value because of a severe shortage of geologists and earth scientists, heavily crippling mining exploration.
This tragic decline is not abstract; it is deeply personal and visible in the decay of our industrial hubs. In my own hometown of Redcliff, the demise of the state-owned Zimbabwe Iron and Steel Company (Ziscosteel)—driven into the ground by systemic corruption and mismanagement—forced our best instrument technicians, boilermakers, and electrical engineers to pack their bags for countries like Australia.
Zimbabwe was left significantly poorer, while the host nations that welcomed our skilled professionals thrived on their expertise. Against this backdrop of industrial ruin, the President spoke proudly of the $2.4 billion Zimbabwe receives in diaspora remittances. But what is the true value of this cash injection? Remittances are not building heavy industry, funding cutting-edge research, or constructing modern public infrastructure. They are survival funds. They are sent home to friends and relatives who are struggling to buy basic food, pay school fees, and keep a roof over their heads.
Using diaspora relief money to paper over structural economic failure is nothing to boast about; it is a confession of systemic collapse. It becomes even more embarrassing when official state propaganda trumpets rising gross domestic product figures to the diaspora. What is the utility of economic growth on paper when it fails to improve daily life, lower the cost of living, or lure back our skilled citizens?
A line on a chart is meaningless if it does not translate into dignity and opportunity for ordinary citizens. By rebranding this exodus as “brain circulation,” the government is making a disturbing tacit admission. It signals to the nation that the authorities have surrendered to the status quo, accepting that conditions will not improve for the foreseeable future.
Instead of building an economy robust enough to retain and nurture its human capital, the state offers empty rhetorical reframing to excuse its own structural failure. A nation cannot export its intellect, import emergency survival cash, and pretend it is winning. Real national growth requires keeping our talent home to build a prosperous future.
Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to contact him on +263715667700 or mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com
Source: No matter what we call brain drain, Mr President, it will always point to a failed economy
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