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Cold, arrogant R1,1bn silence

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There is a cold, arrogant silence hanging over Zimbabwe — a silence so calculated, so brazen. It is louder than any official denial.

Last week, our enterprising journalists — the inquisitive Tinashe Kairiza and Julia Ndlela — were tossed from pillar to post as they pursued a question that demands urgent national attention: How did R1,1 billion of taxpayers’ money —paid by Treasury to a South African company in 2023 — end up in the hands of a convict?

The deeper they dug, the more rotten the truth became. That criminal — condemned by our own courts — has since been parading obscene amounts of wealth, flying in private jets, and distributing luxury cars to celebrities and influencers as if he were running a state-funded lottery. And instead of outrage or action, the state has offered nothing but an icy refusal to speak — a silence soaked in arrogance.

In any functioning democracy, this would trigger resignations, arrests, and commissions of inquiry. But in Zimbabwe, it is “business as usual.” A fraudster flaunts unexplained riches while state institutions look the other way, stonewalling questions from journalists and evading public scrutiny.

It took South Africa’s Financial Intelligence Centre (FIC) to lift the lid. In a report submitted to Zimbabwe’s Financial Intelligence Unit (FIU), FIC said Treasury paid R1,1 billion to Ren-Form CC, a South African printing firm hired by the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission (Zec) to supply materials for the 2023 elections. Ren Form, in turn, transferred over R800 million to companies linked to Wicknell Chivayo.

South African authorities are taking it seriously. The elite crime investigation unit, the Hawks, confirmed that the case has been prioritised. Back home, however, the silence is deafening. Not one public statement. Not one arrest. Not even a whisper of investigation from the FIU, Zimbabwe Anti-Corruption Commission (Zacc), Treasury, or the Reserve Bank. It is not just inaction — it is contempt.

When asked by reporters recently to explain how Ren Form was selected, or why such a massive deal may have bypassed public tender processes, Zec's deputy chairperson Rodney Kiwa responded with brazen hostility:

“We won’t issue a press statement on an issue that has nothing to do with us. What would we say? We are not getting involved in matters that don’t concern us. I beg you — drop this issue. If you press on, I won’t respond.”

This is not just arrogance. It is institutional decay dressed in a suit. Zec is the very agency that initiated the contract. The money passed through its channels. That makes the scandal very much its concern — and very much ours.

In a real democracy, Kiwa would be summoned before Parliament. He would be grilled, suspended, or even dismissed. The Treasury’s top officials would be held to account. Law enforcement agencies would act with urgency. But Zimbabwe is no longer a democracy in spirit — it is a bureaucracy of impunity, where silence is weaponised and accountability is optional.

The FIU, Zacc, Zec — they consume billions in public funds each year. Their executives live lavishly, drive top-of-the-range vehicles, and pose as defenders of public trust. Yet when scandal strikes, they retreat into a rehearsed inertia, shielding the very networks they are supposed to expose.

How else can we explain the complete lack of official response since FIC flagged this possible money laundering scheme in October last year? How can a known criminal receive hundreds of millions via a government contract — under the watch of Zimbabwean and South African authorities — and nobody in Harare thinks the public deserves an explanation?

This is not just a failure of oversight. It is a signal of complicity. It is a regime so numb to scandal that it has stopped pretending to care.

To their credit, civic groups and analysts have spoken out. Political analyst Gideon Chitanga called the scandal a potentially “far-reaching money laundering scam” that may implicate financial institutions in both countries. Crisis in Zimbabwe Coalition director Blessing Vava warned that the lack of action suggests powerful individuals are being protected. And John Maketo, from the Zimbabwe Coalition on Debt and Development, said the government’s silence raises red flags about the state of public finance governance.

These warnings must not be dismissed. They speak to a much deeper problem — a state captured not only by corruption, but by a culture of arrogant denialism. A state that uses democratic institutions as window dressing, while hollowing out their substance.

Sixteen million Zimbabweans are taxed to the bone. Inflation is barrelling at 85%, yet no one is made to account. Public resources — from our diamonds and lithium to our gold and platinum — continue to vanish into shadowy deals, while those who ask questions are met with silence, threats, or both.

This scandal is not about one man’s grotesque display of wealth. It is about the system that enables him. It is about a government that claims legitimacy from the ballot, then uses that power to loot, cover up, and silence dissent.

And it is about a people who are tired. Tired of being robbed. Tired of being ignored. Tired of being told to “drop the issue”.

Let it be known: we will not drop this issue. The cold, arrogant silence must end.

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