Zimbabwe’s state-owned enterprises are bleeding out.
The real crisis is no one in government seems serious about stopping the carnage.
Once the pillars of an economy that fired from all cylinders in the 1990s, state firms contributed 40% to Zimbabwe’s gross domestic product. And we know why — they had been inherited from a more structured regime under Ian Smith, a government with a horrific human rights record, but an undeniable sense of order.
Today, their contribution has plummeted to between 7% and 12%.
This is more than a statistic. It is the outcome of decades of calculated destruction — driven by cronyism, boardroom purges, and a total disregard for merit.
Take the scandal we uncovered this week at the National Social Security Authority (Nssa). It is not an isolated event. It is a brutal indictment of how politics has hijacked public institutions.
In a competitive recruitment process for Nssa’s general manager, two candidates scored 67,6% and 65,7%. They were vetted, security-cleared, and recommended for appointment.
But the job went to someone who scored 59,8% — fifth out of seven.
- Mavhunga puts DeMbare into Chibuku quarterfinals
- Bulls to charge into Zimbabwe gold stocks
- Ndiraya concerned as goals dry up
- Letters: How solar power is transforming African farms
Keep Reading
Shockingly, there was no explanation. And there was no transparency. It was business as usual in the captured state. We can only speculate: perhaps the appointee was politically expedient, or already “acting” and therefore entitled in the eyes of the powers that be.
What happened to the rule of law?
What happened to competence?
Nssa is not a backyard tuckshop. It manages workers’ pensions, holds significant stakes in Zimbabwe’s financial sector, and plays a critical role in economic liquidity. Handing over such a vital institution to someone who failed the selection process is not only irresponsible. It is sabotage.
We have seen this before.
In May 2023, this newspaper exposed a similar scandal where a state-run financial institution appointed a candidate who scored 65%, bypassing one who had scored 97%. The justification was that the lower scorer had been “acting.”
That is the system now.
“Acting” becomes entitlement.
Mediocrity is rewarded and brilliance is discarded.
This is not about administrative errors. It is about a culture of executive recklessness. Ministers treat parastatals like personal projects — purging boards and CEOs at will to install loyalists who are often unqualified. Sometimes they are flagrantly incompetent.
These are not appointments. They are acts of plunder.
But the consequences are dire. According to the Auditor-General’s latest reports, several state-owned entities are now technically insolvent. They generate not profits, and no dividends. They have no returns to support public healthcare, education, water, or sanitation.
The truth is, this is ruin.
We commend former Nssa board chairperson Emmanuel Fundira for refusing to rubber-stamp an unqualified appointment. He challenged his dismissal, citing violations of both the Nssa Act and the Public Entities Corporate Governance Act. In today’s Zimbabwe, such integrity is rare. But he should not stand alone.
The new board, chaired by a retired army major with no demonstrable experience in pensions or investment management, should resign. We must be clear: accepting an appointment under such murky circumstances is not public service, but complicity.
Around the world, nations are strengthening their public institutions by embracing professionalism, transparency, and merit. Zimbabwe is moving in the opposite direction — treating billion-dollar state assets like private family businesses.
Enough is enough.
Zimbabwe is not short on talent. We are short on integrity.
Let ministers craft policy — and let professionals run companies.
Stop the experiments and the needless purges.
The Public Entities Corporate Governance Act exists for a reason. Enforce it.
This economy will never recover while strategic institutions are captured by political interests and staffed by amateurs. There is still time to reverse course. But if this wilful decay continues, soon there will be no state enterprises left to save.
We must rescue them — from the politicians who think they own them.
