My Heart Smiled in Chinhoyi. My Eyes Remain Wide Open.

I listened to General (Retired) Constantino Chiwenga’s address at the ZANU PF conference in Chinhoyi, and I must say, something in that speech genuinely stirred my heart. Not because I have forgotten the atrocities, failures and injustices associated with the ruling party, and certainly not because I believe in elevating personalities above principles and ideology. No. I smiled because, for once, I heard uncomfortable truths being spoken from within the very corridors of power.

When General Chiwenga questioned whether the Second Republic was repeating the very mistakes it was established to correct, I sat up. That is the kind of honest introspection we have been missing. We cannot keep claiming to correct yesterday’s wrongs while reproducing them in different forms today. At some point, someone must have the courage to ask: comrades, are we still on course?

The party belongs to the people

As a young woman who believes in the original, founding revolutionary ideals of ZANU PF, particularly collective leadership, social justice, economic emancipation and service to the masses, my heart smiled when he reminded the party that it belongs to the people, not to individuals. Because honestly, how did we travel so far from the very people whose sacrifices built this nation?

Zimbabwe was not liberated so that a privileged few could accumulate unimaginable wealth while ordinary citizens survive on handouts and the benevolence of the politically connected. Independence was supposed to restore our dignity and economic agency, not replace one class of privileged masters with another. Our people deserve opportunities, not perpetual dependence on the generosity of those with access to power.

I particularly appreciated his challenge on grassroots participation and accountability. What good are endless conferences, beautiful speeches, elaborate resolutions and revolutionary slogans if the mother in rural Gokwe still struggles to access healthcare, the graduate cannot find meaningful employment, and the ordinary hardworking Zimbabwean remains a spectator in the economy of their own country?

The true measure of political leadership is not how loudly people sing your praises at conferences, but how meaningfully their lives improve under your stewardship.

Credit is not the same as trust

Now, before anyone concludes that I have suddenly become a Chiwenga personality cultist, please relax. Giving credit where it is due does not mean abandoning critical thinking. One speech does not erase history, absolve anyone of past political responsibility or guarantee meaningful change. I am also not naive about the political dynamics and competing interests at play.

But surely we must be intellectually honest enough to acknowledge something good even when it comes from someone whose record we may have serious questions about? We cannot demand accountability and then dismiss every uncomfortable question simply because of who is asking it. Equally, we must not become so impressed by the questions that we forget to demand answers, and action.

Cadres, stand up and be counted

My sincere hope is that this becomes more than political theatre. I want to believe that within ZANU PF there are still principled men and women who genuinely believe in the founding ideals of the liberation movement. Cadres who are uncomfortable with corruption, looting, patronage and state capture. People who understand that loyalty to the party must never mean loyalty to wrongdoing.

Cadres, have the courage to stand up and be counted. Sometimes the greatest act of loyalty is challenging the direction in which something you love is travelling. A revolutionary party cannot claim revolutionary credentials while treating honest internal criticism as rebellion.

I want to believe that ZANU PF can become the people’s party again. Not through slogans and declarations, but through its conduct, its policies, its leadership culture and the everyday lived experiences of Zimbabweans.

Perhaps I am being hopeful, but I refuse to believe that our political future must forever be held hostage by the failures of our past. I refuse to believe that there are no principled people left within the establishment, or that wanting better for Zimbabwe requires abandoning every ideal that once inspired the liberation struggle.

When the microphones are switched off

General Chiwenga asked important questions in Chinhoyi, and I give him his flowers for that. But the real test begins when the microphones are switched off, the conference ends and everyone returns to their offices. Will those questions translate into meaningful reform? Will the cadres who applauded have the courage to support change, even when it threatens their own comfort and privilege? Or will this become another powerful speech buried beneath business as usual?

Time will tell. For now, I am cautiously hopeful. My heart smiled at the possibility of genuine renewal, but my eyes remain wide open.

Zimbabwe deserves leadership that serves rather than demands to be served. Institutions stronger than individuals. An economy that rewards honest work. A political culture where integrity is celebrated rather than punished.

Let us reclaim our motherland. Not for a faction. Not for an individual. Not for one family. Not for a privileged few. For the people.

Iwe neni tine basa. You and I have work to do.

About the author

Pat Ricia is a Zimbabwean writer and entrepreneur based in the UK, writing about faith, purpose, womanhood and intentional living. Read her story.