TSHABANGU’S BETRAYAL: HOW THE OPPOSITION HANDED MNANGAGWA A LIFELINE TO 2030
Sengezo Tshabangu has once again proven that betrayal is alive and well in Zimbabwean politics. The self-proclaimed Citizens Coalition for Change (CCC) secretary-general stunned the nation today by publicly endorsing President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s plan to extend his rule beyond the constitutional limit of 2028 to 2030. Speaking before hundreds of parliamentarians and senators at Mnangagwa’s Precabe Farm in Kwekwe, Tshabangu said the extension “could be allowed if it makes Zimbabweans happy.” His words, dripping with irony, were met with thunderous applause from ZANU PF loyalists who seemed delighted to witness yet another opposition figure bending before the regime.
The gathering at Sherwood was no ordinary event. It was a carefully staged political theatre—a display of loyalty designed to showcase Mnangagwa’s dominance and blur the line between the ruling party and the supposed opposition. Tshabangu stood shoulder to shoulder with ZANU PF heavyweights, proudly declaring himself “the CCC leader in parliament,” as if the opposition were now just another department within Mnangagwa’s empire. Jacob Mudenda, the Speaker of Parliament, and ZANU PF Chief Whip Pupurai Togarepi joined in clapping, their approval sealing what many see as the final death of meaningful opposition politics.
What makes this betrayal more disturbing is that it follows recent secret negotiations in which the opposition allegedly agreed to postpone the 2028 elections to 2030. The justification—that Mnangagwa needs more time to complete “development projects”—is a familiar lie. Under the guise of progress, the regime continues to tighten its grip, rewriting rules and reshaping institutions to serve one man’s ambitions. By backing this unconstitutional extension, Tshabangu has effectively volunteered the opposition to participate in its own burial.
Mnangagwa, who now calls himself “Munhumutapa”—a title borrowed from ancient Shona emperors—has been crafting an image of himself as a historical savior. His farm in Sherwood has become his new political throne room, where he hosts allies and makes key decisions. It is also where he announced “Munhumutapa Day” to celebrate his birthday on September 15, another narcissistic gesture meant to cement his self-styled legacy. But behind the pomp and propaganda lies deep turmoil.
Inside ZANU PF, Vice President Constantino Chiwenga and his military-aligned faction have grown increasingly hostile to Mnangagwa’s 2030 agenda. They accuse him of breaking a gentlemen’s agreement made after the 2017 coup—an understanding that Mnangagwa would step down after one term. Instead, he not only sought a second term in 2023 but now wants to rewrite the constitution to stay even longer. The move has reignited bitter divisions between the civilian and military wings of the regime, exposing the fragile unity holding ZANU PF together.
Changing the constitution to remove term limits would require not just parliamentary approval but a national referendum—something that could reignite public anger if Zimbabweans were truly free to speak. Yet Mnangagwa’s confidence shows he believes he has enough control over institutions and alliances to bulldoze through any legal obstacle. Tshabangu’s newfound loyalty is part of this strategy: weaken the opposition, divide it, and neutralize any threat before it grows.
For ordinary citizens, this political charade is another reminder that power in Zimbabwe remains concentrated in the hands of a few. The opposition that once inspired hope has been infiltrated, manipulated, and stripped of purpose. Tshabangu’s actions betray not only his party but every Zimbabwean who dreams of a democratic future. Mnangagwa’s quest for 2030 is not about stability or development—it is about self-preservation.
As the curtain rises on yet another chapter of deceit and political theatre, one thing is clear: Zimbabwe’s democracy is on life support, and those who should defend it are now clapping for its executioner.
