It’s not a spiritual attack, Mr. Mudzinganyama—your outburst betrays the culture of impunity among Zimbabwe’s elite

Accountability is not a weakness; it is a virtue.

Video footage has recently surfaced that has filled the nation with immediate visceral disgust.  

To directly receive my articles please join my WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08  

It showed Zimbabwean businessman Lawrence Mudzinganyama hurling threats at a group of women in a Sandton restaurant.    In the clip, he boasted that he could put a bullet in them and walk away because he was too wealthy.   Yet, as predictable as the outrage was, what followed was as baffling as it was insulting.  

In his formal written apology, Mudzinganyama offered the bewildering defense that he was acting under a “spiritual attack”—claiming a spirit medium was speaking through him during the outburst.   It is not a spiritual attack, Mr. Mudzinganyama, but your outburst betrays the deep-seated culture of impunity that continues to rot the soul of Zimbabwe’s elite.   

What transpired in that South African venue was not a moment of demonic possession, but the unvarnished, naked manifestation of an arrogance that has been nurtured, protected, and rewarded for decades back home.   For far too long, those who hold political power, corporate influence, or state-sanctioned wealth in Zimbabwe have operated under the firm conviction that the law is merely a suggestion meant for the weak.   

This warped mindset is formed in an environment where corruption is met with a slap on the wrist, human rights abuses are swept under the carpet, and financial clout buys total immunity from civic responsibility.    We see this rotten culture when figures implicated in grand, multi-million-dollar scandals are paraded before the public as benevolent philanthropists, gifting millions in cash and luxury vehicles while state institutions look the other way.   

We see it in gold mining operations—shielded by political patronage—that violate every environmental law on the books, poisoning local rivers, cracking homes with unannounced blasting, and violently displacing rural communities with complete impunity.    Most chillingly, we see it when those accused of political violence and the killing of rivals walk free, shielded by a system where connection matters infinitely more than the law.   

In Zimbabwe, impunity is not a breach of the rule of law; for the elite, it is the primary benefit of power.   When individuals nurtured in this ecosystem step across our borders, they do not leave their entitlement at the passport control desk.    They carry it with them like a badge of honor, firmly believing that their bank balances render them utterly uncheckable, anywhere in the world.    They genuinely believe that public space belongs to them, that women owe them deference, and that accountability is a minor inconvenience that can be paid off or intimidated into silence.  

This sense of untouchability is not merely confined to high-stakes tenders or luxury Sandton eateries; it trickles down into every facet of daily life, revealing itself in the most reckless ways.    I am constantly left perplexed at how our elite drive on Zimbabwe’s highways with complete and utter disregard for road rules and fellow motorists.    They overtake against oncoming traffic, force humble drivers off the tarmac, run red lights, and navigate our roads as though they own the very air we breathe.    It is a terrifying display of reckless entitlement that defies basic logic.    I have never been able to understand why anyone, even those convinced they are entirely immune to prosecution, would resort to actions that are so plain stupid and dangerous to themselves.   

A pile of money cannot bend the laws of physics, nor can political connections prevent a head-on collision when overtaking blindly on a curve.    Yet, so blinded are they by their own perceived invincibility that they willingly gamble with their own lives just to assert dominance over everyone else.   This behavior exposes a profound psychological sickness where power ceases to be an instrument of service or stewardship and becomes instead a license for chaos.    When you spend years existing in a bubble where no authority dares to question you, your sense of self-preservation dissolves alongside your morality.   

You begin to believe that your money makes you bulletproof, your status makes you infallible, and your arrogance is a virtue.    But Mr. Mudzinganyama discovered the limits of his authority with terrifying speed.    As South African police arrested him, his board stripped him of his executive post, his landlord evicted him, and state agencies launched tender probes, the delusion of absolute impunity crumbled.   Beyond the protective embrace of a compromised system, the illusion shatters instantly, leaving behind nothing more than a bully exposed by his own hubris.  

Zimbabwe cannot hope to rebuild its moral fabric or earn respect on the global stage as long as its privileged few continue to parade this toxic entitlement at home and abroad.    True power is defined by self-restraint, respect for the rule of law, and basic human decency, not by the size of one’s bank account or the volume of one’s threats.    Until our society stops enabling, worshipping, and excusing the reckless arrogance of the powerful, we will remain trapped in a cycle where elite impunity reigns supreme.   True accountability is never a spiritual attack, but the rightful harvest of your own arrogance.  

Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to contact him on +263715667700 or mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com

Source: It’s not a spiritual attack, Mr. Mudzinganyama—your outburst betrays the culture of impunity among Zimbabwe’s elite

COMMENTS

WORDPRESS: 0