To the casual observer, the recent constitutional maneuvers designed to prolong President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s stay in power seem like standard authoritarian playbook moves.
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A tactical scheme to block his ambitious deputy, Constantino Chiwenga, from ascending to the top office.
But could there be a deeper, far more personal, if not vindictive, agenda at play?
Not against his rival successor, but against his dead predecessor?
With the enactment of the controversial Constitution of Zimbabwe Amendment (No. 3) Act, President Mnangagwa’s tenure has been extended past his original 2028 limit to a seven-year term ending in 2030.
Yet, inside the ruling party, ZANU-PF, the appetite for power remains unsated.
Vocal factions are already raising new calls for Mnangagwa to remain in office until 2037.
The arithmetic reveals a stark reality.
President Mnangagwa turns 84 years old in September.
By 2030, he will be 88, and should the push to 2037 succeed, he will be 95 years old.
This is not merely an extension of office; it is a life presidency by another name.
To understand the psychological undercurrents of this push, one must look back at Zimbabwe’s turbulent history.
Former President Robert Mugabe, Mnangagwa’s long-time mentor, was ignominiously ousted in a November 2017 military coup d’état at the age of 93.
Could it be that Mnangagwa wants to outdo Mugabe and achieve what his former mentor failed to do—die in office as ruler, while systematically erasing Mugabe’s footprint from the national memory?
African politics, and Zimbabwean politics in particular, is rarely driven by a selfless mandate to serve the people.
Instead, it is dominated by personal entitlement and survival.
Although Mnangagwa spent decades in Mugabe’s shadow as his loyal protégé, his actions under the so-called “Second Republic” suggest a deliberate campaign to not only outlast his old master, but to airbrush him out of Zimbabwe’s history books.
Across the globe, founding leaders are revered during national commemorations.
South Africa continuously honours Nelson Mandela, Ghana venerates Kwame Nkrumah, and the United States reflects on George Washington.
Yet in Zimbabwe, Mugabe—the man who ruled the country for 37 years and served as its founding leader—is treated almost as a taboo subject.
His name is rarely uttered during Independence Day speeches, and his legacy is routinely ignored.
The airbrushing is both symbolic and physical.
At the Robert Gabriel Mugabe International Airport, visitors are greeted not by an image of the airport’s namesake, but by a massive portrait of President Mnangagwa.
On the official holiday designated in his honor—Robert Gabriel Mugabe National Youth Day—Mugabe’s name is scarcely mentioned by state officials during public ceremonies.
Across urban centers, Mugabe’s name is actively being removed from public spaces, such as in Kwekwe’s CBD where the prominent R. G. Mugabe Way was officially renamed E. D. Mnangagwa Street.
This systematic erasure reveals a deeply personal dynamic.
For decades, Mnangagwa operated in Mugabe’s shadow, doing the heavy lifting while Mugabe took the historical glory.
Yet it is plausible to view his current trajectory through a deeply personal lens.
Mnangagwa has long carried the reputation of a politician who neither forgets nor forgives.
The humiliation of his sudden dismissal by Mugabe as vice president in November 2017—followed by a dramatic flight into a two-week exile in South Africa—likely left an indelible mark.
Returning only after the military coup d’état, he likely bore the scars of betrayal by his lifelong mentor.
Viewed through this lens, using the full weight of the state machine to rewrite the narrative appears less like routine politics and more like settling an ultimate historical score.
The systematic removal of Mugabe’s name from streets and public landmarks is not accidental—it is an exercise in political vindication.
By extending his hold on power, Mnangagwa would not merely be lengthening his tenure; he would be actively reshaping the state so that future generations associate its identity primarily with him rather than his former mentor.
His drive for absolute power appears to be more than a struggle against internal party rivals.
It bears all the marks of a psychological crusade against a ghost.
By dismantling the 2013 Constitution to ensure he rules until his final breath, Mnangagwa is arguably attempting to eclipse his mentor.
However, history holds a cruel irony for those who seek to rewrite it.
Mugabe spent nearly four decades entrenching his own power, convinced his legacy was unshakeable, only to be cast aside by his closest allies.
In his obsession to outstay and erase his predecessor, Mnangagwa risks walking the exact same path.
He risks his own legacy being obliterated by his own successor.
- Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to contact him on +263715667700 or mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com



