Zimbabwe’s university lecturers deserve dignity, not destitution

Yet, how can that be achieved when those in power appear intent on disenfranchising those who impart that education?

The ongoing strike by University of Zimbabwe (UZ) lecturers is not just another labor dispute—it is a critical indictment of a government that continues to neglect the very people responsible for shaping the intellectual backbone of the nation.

These educators, once respected and decently remunerated, have been pushed to the margins of survival.

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Their strike is not only justifiable; it is long overdue.

In standing with them, we are standing for the future of Zimbabwean higher education and the dignity of professional labor.

There was a time, not so long ago, when being a university lecturer in Zimbabwe was a prestigious and well-compensated profession.

In 2018, some senior academics earned upwards of US$2,250 a month, which—though still modest by global standards—was sufficient for a dignified life.

Fast forward to 2025, and many now take home the equivalent of less than US$300 per month.

In some shocking instances, part-time lecturers have reportedly received as little as US$2.50 per hour.

How is it conceivable that a nation which boasts of being on the path to an “upper middle-income economy” subjects its educators to such degrading compensation?

This precipitous fall in remuneration is not merely a number—it represents a real, lived crisis.

These lecturers are expected to deliver quality education, conduct research, and supervise postgraduate students while struggling to pay rent, buy food, and send their children to school.

How does one focus on academic excellence when the landlord is banging on the door and the refrigerator is empty?

Zimbabwean university lecturers are not asking for luxury.

They are asking for survival.

They are demanding that the government return to them a measure of the dignity that has been stripped away through years of economic mismanagement and willful neglect.

To add salt to the wound, this crisis has been simmering for years, and the government has consistently ignored the warning signs.

Since 2018, lecturers under the Academic Teachers Association (AUT) have written over 40 letters to the UZ pleading for a review of their salaries, with limited response.

These appeals have largely fallen on deaf ears.

In response to their growing desperation, authorities have made vague promises to “review” remuneration or to “align” their salaries with regional standards—yet nothing tangible has been implemented.

Each promise is a stalling tactic. Each delay is a betrayal.

The consequences of this neglect are already evident.

The quality of education in Zimbabwe’s public universities has declined markedly.

Bright minds are leaving academia in droves, either crossing the borders into neighboring countries or switching to other professions that offer better pay and stability.

The country is bleeding intellectual capital at an alarming rate.

How can a nation hope to compete on the regional or global stage when it cannot even retain its best and brightest minds within its lecture halls?

Zimbabwe is squandering a generation of potential scholars, innovators, and thought leaders.

Moreover, this crisis does not exist in a vacuum.

It is part of a broader pattern in which public servants—teachers, nurses, doctors, and civil servants—have all had to resort to strikes or “incapacitation” declarations simply to be heard.

The situation with university lecturers is, in many ways, emblematic of a state that is failing its workforce across the board.

The same government that can find millions to charter jets for top officials or fund endless foreign junkets cannot find the resources to ensure its educators live above the poverty line.

The narrative often pushed by government spokespeople—that there is no money, and everyone must make sacrifices—rings hollow when juxtaposed with their lavish lifestyles and rampant corruption within public institutions.

According to the Auditor-General’s reports, state resources are routinely mismanaged, with billions unaccounted for or diverted into private hands.

If Zimbabwean leaders were truly committed to education, they would curb corruption, cut unnecessary expenditures, and prioritize the salaries of those who hold the keys to national development.

University lecturers are not replaceable cogs in a machine.

They are the architects of Zimbabwe’s future.

They train engineers, doctors, scientists, economists, teachers, and even the next generation of policymakers.

To treat them with such disdain is to undermine the foundation of national progress.

It sends a message to the youth that knowledge, integrity, and hard work are not valued.

It is a message that erodes the moral fabric of society.

In light of all this, the lecturers’ strike is not selfish or disruptive—it is an act of moral resistance.

It is a refusal to normalize suffering and professional degradation.

It is a call to the conscience of the nation.

By downing their tools, they are forcing the country to confront an uncomfortable truth: that we have systematically devalued education and those who provide it.

They are sacrificing their limited income today for the hope of a more just and equitable tomorrow.

It is also crucial to confront the myth that university lecturers are immune to economic hardships simply because they are “educated.”

Education, though valuable, does not make one bulletproof against inflation, rent hikes, or school fees.

The assumption that their qualifications alone should keep them silent and obedient is not only patronizing but also deeply unjust.

In any functional democracy, it is expected—indeed, it is encouraged—for intellectuals to speak out when the system is broken.

Zimbabwe’s lecturers are doing just that.

Rather than trying to coerce or intimidate these striking educators back into the classroom, the government should engage with them sincerely and transparently.

The solution is not in deploying rhetoric or empty promises, but in tangible action: restoring salaries to at least their 2018 value in USD terms, providing better working conditions, and creating a structured and predictable system of remuneration adjustments tied to inflation and cost of living indicators.

The plight of the university lecturer is the plight of every Zimbabwean who works hard and yet remains poor.

Their struggle is our collective struggle.

To stand with them is to say we believe in a better Zimbabwe—one where professionals are rewarded fairly, where education is taken seriously, and where the nation invests in its human capital not just in word but in deed.

This strike is not the problem; it is the symptom. And the solution lies in justice, accountability, and political will.

If the government continues to ignore these demands, the long-term cost will be catastrophic—not only for higher education but for the entire society.

We cannot afford to remain silent.

Zimbabwe’s university lecturers have spoken. It is now time for the nation to listen.

• Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to WhatsApp or Call: +263715667700 | +263782283975, or email: mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com, or visit website: https://mbofanatendairuben.news.blog/