The decision by Justice Minister Ziyambi Ziyambi to prioritise consultations in Nairobi over attendance at the 61st session of the United Nations Human Rights Council in Geneva is not a mere scheduling adjustment.
It is a political signal. It tells us where the anxieties of President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s government lie and where its energies are being expended.
Ziyambi’s trip to Kenya was for consultations with Professor Jonathan Moyo, reportedly hired as a consultant on proposed constitutional amendments designed to extend President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s tenure to 2030 and restructure the political and electoral system.
That such high-level attention is being given to these amendments, within a tightly constrained 90-day consultation window, underscores their strategic importance to those in power.
Let us be clear about the substance. The proposed changes seek to extend Mnangagwa’s tenure beyond his current two-term limit which expires in 2028, lengthen presidential terms from five to seven years, and abolish direct popular voting in presidential elections.
These are not technical adjustments. They are foundational shifts that alter the architecture of the state and the balance between ruler and ruled.
The cancellation of Ziyambi’s Geneva trip just before departure reinforces the impression that constitutional recalibration at home is more urgent than reputational management abroad.
Zimbabwe will instead be represented by Attorney General Virginia Mabiza, appointed on 1 November 2023 and the first woman to hold that office. Her presence in Geneva will be symbolically important.
Yet the political weight of a justice minister defending government policy at the Human Rights Council is not easily substituted.
The Geneva session will examine protection of human rights defenders, freedom of religion, socio economic rights and country situations ranging from Afghanistan to the Occupied Palestinian Territory.
Zimbabwe’s own human rights record has repeatedly come under scrutiny at similar forums. The divergence between official narratives and civil society testimonies has become almost ritualistic.
Only days ago, journalist Blessed Mhlanga addressed a related event in Geneva, alleging sustained political repression and lawfare against the media.
In this context, the government’s focus on extending executive tenure invites an obvious question.
Why is constitutional energy being directed towards lengthening presidential power rather than strengthening institutional accountability? A constitution is a restraint document. It exists to limit power, not to lubricate its continuity.
Therefore, Vice President Constantino Chiwenga’s remarks on the liberation struggle add a poignant dimension.
Addressing mourners at the recent funeral wake of Miriam Kangai (widow of the late national hero and former Cabinet minister Kumbirai Kangai), held at the Kangai family residence in Glen Forest, Harare, Chiwenga declared:
“The liberation struggle was primarily fought for two fundamental reasons: the principle of one man, one vote and the return of our land.”
He emphasised sacrifice, sacred nationhood and the duty to safeguard the legacy of fallen heroes.
There is an inherent tension between that liberation ethos and the current reform trajectory. The principle of one man, one vote was a repudiation of minority rule and indirect representation.
It was a demand for direct political agency. To contemplate abolishing direct popular voting for the presidency is to reinterpret, if not dilute, that foundational demand.
Similarly, term limits are modern constitutional safeguards designed precisely to prevent the concentration of power in a single individual for prolonged periods. They are the antithesis of life presidency.
Extending tenure beyond agreed limits, even through parliamentary supermajorities, tests the spirit of constitutionalism. It risks converting the constitution from a social contract into a strategic instrument.
The involvement of Jonathan Moyo is politically telling. Moyo is in his own mind an astute strategist who supposedly understands both the mechanics of constitutional drafting and the psychology of political survival.
His advisory role suggests that these amendments are being crafted with perceived tactical precision. The question is whether precision in design compensates for deficit in legitimacy.
Public consultations within a 90-day period may satisfy procedural requirements. But legitimacy is not procedural alone. It derives from broad-based consensus, transparent debate and demonstrable public support.
In a polarised environment where trust in institutions is already fragile, compressed consultation risks being perceived as manufactured consent.
The international dimension cannot be divorced from the domestic one. At a time when the global human rights system is under strain, states that demonstrate internal commitment to constitutionalism enhance their credibility.
Those that appear to manipulate foundational rules invite scepticism. Zimbabwe’s choice to prioritise constitutional revision over high-level representation in Geneva feeds a narrative of defensiveness rather than confidence.
Supporters of the amendments may argue that political stability requires continuity. They may contend that developmental goals necessitate extended leadership cycles.
These are frivolous arguments. Stability secured by weakening electoral accountability is inherently brittle. It substitutes predictability for participation.
Chiwenga’s invocation of Herbert Chitepo, Kumbirai Kangai and other liberation figures was meant to remind the nation of its origins.
The deeper lesson of that struggle, however, was not merely about land and franchise. It was about dignity and the right of citizens to choose their leaders without coercion or structural manipulation.
If Zimbabwe is to be “a source of admiration for others”, as Chiwenga hopes, admiration will not flow from constitutional acrobatics. It will flow from demonstrated respect for the rule of law, predictable succession and competitive politics grounded in genuine universal suffrage.
Ziyambi’s hurried flights between Harare and Nairobi, the delayed return on a Kenya Airways service, the cancellation of Geneva, the intensive stakeholder meetings within a compressed timeframe, all form part of a larger tableau.
It is the tableau of a state preoccupied with recalibrating the levers of power at a moment when its democratic credentials are under external examination.
The ultimate test of these amendments will not be their technical coherence but their democratic authenticity.
Do they deepen the principle of one man, one vote, or do they attenuate it? Do they reinforce the sanctity of the constitution, or do they bend it to transient political needs?
Liberation rhetoric cannot indefinitely mask constitutional regression. If the war was indeed about one man, one vote, then the post-liberation state must resist the temptation to convert that principle into one man, one extended tenure.
History is unkind to those who conflate revolutionary legitimacy with perpetual incumbency.
Gabriel Manyati is a Zimbabwean journalist and analyst delivering incisive commentary on politics, human interest stories, and current affairs.
