Tendai Ruben Mbofana
Yesterday as I was going through old family belongings, I came across a dusty file which contained material from a newspaper I once owned and edited from the late 1990s to the early 2000s called the Midlands Monitor.
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In the file I discovered proof copies—which are the preliminary versions of the newspaper pages printed for final review and correction before they are sent to the printing press—of an October edition from 1999.
Tucked within those bygone pages was a news report detailing the public hearings conducted in my hometown of Redcliff regarding the proposed new constitution for Zimbabwe at the time.
As I read through the report, my heart sank as it dawned on me how much more politically mature Zimbabweans appeared in 1999 compared to the disheartening spectacle we witness today with the proposed Constitutional Amendment (No. 3) Bill, otherwise known as CAB3.
The contrast is nothing short of staggering.
When looking back at the 1999 hearings, one is struck by a sense of authentic, grassroots engagement.
The report I found noted that the Redcliff meeting was characterized by a high-octane and passionate exchange of ideas, reflecting the profound substance and gravity of the debate.
The collective output of those Redcliff citizens was deeply intellectual, progressive, and focused entirely on the strategic betterment of the nation.
They were not there because they were told what to say; they were there because they cared about the future of their country.
In 1999, the profound level of engagement seen in Redcliff was mirrored across the country, where ordinary Zimbabweans were debating the fine details of executive accountability.
They were demanding that presidential terms be limited to two five-year stints and that the powers of the presidency be trimmed and shared with a Prime Minister.
They were calling for the ability to impeach a leader to ensure they remained answerable to the people.
They spoke about the need for a professional cabinet where ministers were qualified in their respective fields and were required to declare their assets to an independent commission before taking office to curb corruption.
These were not the thoughts of people looking for a handout; these were the demands of a politically sophisticated populace that understood the mechanics of governance and the necessity of checks and balances.
Fast forward to 2026, and the landscape of public participation has regressed into a hollow, stage-managed shadow of its former self.
During the current parliamentary public hearings on CAB3, the maturity of 1999 has been replaced by openly rowdy, violent, and coached behavior.
We are seeing venues flooded with bussed-in crowds, individuals who have been “rented” through a combination of fear and the promise of free food and beer.
In cities like Harare, Bulawayo, and Kwekwe, these organized groups have moved in to drown out any divergent views, even resorting to manhandling those who dare to speak out against the proposed amendments.
This is not the behavior of a politically mature citizenry; it is the behavior of a desperate and manipulated population.
The depth of the contributions has also suffered a catastrophic decline.
While the 1999 generation offered detailed proposals on legislative reforms, citizenship, and language rights—arguing, for instance, that English should not be the only official language because it disadvantaged those without formal education—the pro-regime contributions of today are shallow and repetitive.
We hear parroted statements such as “the president needs to finish his programs” or “we want our president to be chosen by Parliament in line with other nations like South Africa.”
These speakers never delve deeper into their arguments because they are merely reciting a script they have been given.
They often show a fundamental lack of understanding of what they are even supporting, demonstrating that they are being used as props in a political play rather than participating as informed citizens.
Even the logistics of these hearings reveal a sinister shift in the government’s approach.
In 1999, despite the government’s support for the proposed new constitution, they ensured that public hearings were numerous and accessible.
In my hometown of Redcliff, the meeting was within walking distance for the residents.
This allowed for genuine, widespread participation.
In 2026, the government has moved in the opposite direction, purposefully limiting the number of venues.
This strategy serves two purposes—it limits the participation of the general public, who the state fears may actually oppose CAB3, and it makes it far easier to manage and deploy stage-managed ZANU-PF crowds to dominate the few available spaces.
One has to wonder if this stark difference in behavior suggests that Zimbabweans were more politically mature twenty-seven years ago than they are today.
It is a deeply saddening realization to see how a once-proud and intellectually fierce population now appears weaker and more desperate.
There is a profound tragedy in watching people sell their birthrights for a few takeaways and a beer.
These proposed constitutional amendments under CAB3 do not benefit the ordinary person in any way; they are designed purely to consolidate the power of the ruling elite.
Yet, those blindly supporting these changes, shouting down their neighbors for the sake of a meal, are only sinking themselves deeper into the very poverty that makes them so easy to manipulate.
The generation of 1999 knew exactly what they wanted and what was in their best interest.
They did not seek to give the ruling elite more power; they sought to curtail it.
They wanted the right to recall underperforming MPs and to ensure the presidency was not a position of absolute authority.
Contrast this with the current push in 2026, where people are being coached to give the president even more power—allowing for the handpicking of the judiciary, the appointment of more Senators, and the extension of presidential terms from five to seven years.
It is a total reversal of the democratic progress that was once within our reach.
Perhaps the greatest testament to the maturity of the 1999 generation was their actions during the national referendum in February 2000.
When they saw that their demands for accountability and limited executive power had not been fully realized in the final draft, they had the courage and the clarity to overwhelmingly reject it.
They refused to settle for a flawed document.
This historical fact leads to a chilling question—is the government’s current approach of silencing dissent and stage-managing contributions in 2026 a direct result of their fear of a repeat of the 2000 rejection?
It seems the state has learned that they cannot win an honest debate with a mature populace, so they have opted instead to manufacture a false consensus through coercion and bribery.
This also explains the feverish maneuvers to avoid a national referendum, in direct violation of the Constitution, which mandates such a process when an incumbent seeks to extend their own time in office.
Ultimately, whatever the outcome of these public hearings, the resultant constitutional amendments will not be a true reflection of the desires of the Zimbabwean people.
They will be illegitimate because they were born out of a process that systematically excluded genuine citizen voices in favor of a self-serving agenda held by a small ruling clique.
This regression is a worrying sign for the future of our country, as it threatens the very fabric of our national identity.
We need to find our way back to the spirit of 1999.
We need a return to that level of political maturity where citizens stand firm for what is best for themselves and their children rather than what is best for those in power.
The dusty files of the Midlands Monitor serve as a reminder of what we once were and a challenge for what we must become again.
Zimbabwe deserves better than a scripted future bought with a few plates of food.
It deserves a citizenry that cannot be bought, a people who remember that their power lies in their voice and their vote, not in the handouts of those who seek to disenfranchise them.
- 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