Tendai Ruben Mbofana
The sight of a private individual parading through the halls of power while doling out millions of dollars to the nation’s entire legislative body is not merely a spectacle of opulence.
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It is a chilling siren song for the death of Zimbabwean democracy.
When Wicknell Chivayo announced a so-called donation of US$3.6 million to be distributed among all 360 Members of Parliament for constituency development, the foundation of our sovereign state didn’t just rattle; it began to crumble.
This act is a blatant privatization of the august house and a terrifying preview of what awaits the nation if we allow the proposed Constitutional Amendment (No. 3) Bill to strip the power of presidential selection away from the citizens.
The questions surrounding the source of this sudden and overwhelming largesse are as old as they are unanswered.
We are witnessing a man who recently handed over millions in a divorce settlement, who populates his garage with the most expensive luxury vehicles on the planet, and who traverses the skies in a private jet.
Yet, when we look for the industrial or commercial engine driving this wealth, we find only shadows and controversy.
We must dig into the companies associated with this figure.
What have they actually built?
What products do they manufacture?
How many thousands of Zimbabweans do they employ in sustainable jobs?
Do they contribute their fair share to the national fiscus through taxes?
Chivayo’s corporate network, primarily comprising Intratrek Zimbabwe, IMC Communications, and Intratrek South Africa, functions as a lean system of “special purpose vehicles” rather than established industrial giants.
These companies operate with a minimal workforce—likely fewer than 50 permanent staff—and lack a track record of delivering significant infrastructure, as seen with the US$173 million Gwanda Solar Project that remained stalled for a decade despite massive cash advances.
Instead of generating wealth through manufacturing or services, these entities serve as legal conduits for “tenderpreneurship,” where the business model relies on securing unprocedural government contracts through political proximity and then sub-contracting the actual labor for a fraction of the cost.
The financial scale of these companies does not organically justify Chivayo’s multimillion-dollar luxury spending, pointing instead to possible systemic corruption and extreme price gouging.
Investigations, such as those by South Africa’s Financial Intelligence Centre, have revealed that in single deals like the 2023 ZEC tender, costs were reportedly inflated by up to 235%, with items like biometric kits and servers billed at thousands of dollars above market value.
This allegedly allowed for the direct transfer of over R800 million (US$42 million) into Chivayo’s business accounts, much of which was reportedly moved through South African and offshore channels to bypass the Zimbabwean tax net.
Ultimately, his wealth is not the product of a productive workforce or corporate growth, but bears marks of siphoning public funds through highly inflated procurement margins and “success fees” captured as a state-linked middleman.
The most prominent name in this portfolio remains Intratrek Zimbabwe, a company notorious for the Gwanda solar project.
Years after millions were disbursed, the site remained a landscape of bushes and unfulfilled promises rather than a hub of clean energy for a power-starved nation.
If these companies are not producing tangible goods or services on a scale that justifies a multi-million-dollar “philanthropy” spree, then the fundamental question remains unanswered.
Where is this money coming from?
A business that does not produce enough value to sustain a massive workforce or significant national infrastructure cannot logically enrich a single individual to the point where he can casually bankroll the entire Parliament.
This mystery is compounded by the staggering institutional paralysis of the Zimbabwe Anti-Corruption Commission.
While ZACC has recently seen fit to exonerate this individual citing a supposed lack of evidence, our neighbors in South Africa have painted a far more disturbing picture.
Investigations by the Financial Intelligence Unit and the Southern Africa Revenue Authority allegedly uncovered that a breathtaking 800 million Rand out of a 1.1 billion Rand contract given to Ren-Form CC for election materials somehow trickled into bank accounts linked to this very individual.
Why is it that South African authorities can trace these complex financial webs while our own investigators claim to find nothing?
The reluctance of Zimbabwean authorities to probe these links suggests a deeper malaise.
One cannot help but notice the frequent proximity of this individual to the highest office in the land.
This “untouchable” status creates a perception that the law in Zimbabwe is not a blind arbiter of justice but a selective tool that bows to those with the right connections.
This brings us to the most dangerous intersection of money and politics in our modern history.
The ease with which a private citizen can “incentivize” the legislature exposes the grave risks of Constitutional Amendment (No. 3) Bill.
This bill seeks to move the selection of the country’s head of state from the hands of 16 million citizens to a small group of 360 people seated in Mt. Hampden.
If one individual can “donate” US$10,000 to every MP today under the guise of development, what is to stop a billionaire with even deeper pockets—perhaps even one with foreign interests—from pouring a billion dollars into the chambers in 2030?
By shifting the presidential selection to Parliament, we are essentially placing the highest office in the land on an auction block.
We are telling the world that the Commander-in-Chief of our defense forces is for sale to whoever can write the largest check to a few hundred individuals.
This is the ultimate privatization of the state.
It sets a precedent where the will of the people is replaced by the whims of the wealthy.
The “donation” we see today is a proof of concept for state capture.
It demonstrates that our representatives are accessible and, more importantly, they are affordable.
Those within the ruling party who have championed this amendment must realize the double-edged sword they are forging.
While they may believe this move secures their current grip on power, they are actually creating a mechanism that could easily be used against them.
In the future, a wealthy individual with leanings toward the opposition or a foreign conglomerate with a specific agenda could simply “buy” the presidency by incentivizing the 360 people in that room.
When the selection of a leader is decoupled from the masses, the incumbent party loses its only real shield—the mandate of the people.
They are effectively handing the keys of the nation to the highest bidder, who may not necessarily have any loyalty to the liberation struggle or the current political establishment.
We are not just selling the presidency; we are selling the country itself.
There is no greater act of “kutengesa nyika”—selling out the nation—than creating a system where a small group of people can be bought to install a leader who will thereafter do the bidding of their benefactor.
This is a direct assault on our national sovereignty.
If a donor can determine who sits in the State House, that donor, not the voters, becomes the true sovereign of Zimbabwe.
Our policies, our resources, and our future will be dictated by the interests of capital rather than the needs of the citizens.
This supposed donation must be halted immediately.
It is an ethical minefield and a conflict of interest that taints every member of the house who accepts it.
Our lawmakers cannot be the beneficiaries of a man whose business dealings are under a cloud of international suspicion.
Furthermore, a comprehensive and independent investigation into the sources of this wealth is no longer optional; it is a national security priority.
We need to know how these millions are being generated and whether they are the product of legitimate enterprise or the siphoning of public resources.
Most importantly, the warning signs provided by this display of “tenderpreneur” power must lead to the immediate scrapping of Constitutional Amendment (No. 3) Bill.
We cannot allow our democracy to be downsized from a nation of 16 million to a room of 360.
The right to universal suffrage is the most sacred legacy of our independence.
It is the only mechanism that ensures the leadership is accountable to the shopkeeper in Bulawayo, the farmer in Mutare, and the teacher in Redcliff.
To move that power into a small, easily “captured” chamber is an act of high-stakes gambling with the fate of the Republic.
The election of the President must remain firmly in the hands of the people of Zimbabwe. Anything less is a surrender to the era of the highest bidder.
- 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
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