VUBACHIKWE MINE INVASION SHOWS ZIMBABWE IS NOT OPEN, IT IS CAPTURED
What happened at Vubachikwe Mine in Gwanda is not just a crime. It is a loud message to every business person, every worker, and every investor that in Zimbabwe, politics is stronger than the law. When more than 200 ruling party youths can walk into a mine, take it over, and start digging gold without permission, that is not disorder. That is a system working exactly as designed.
This was not a poor man stealing food. This was organised looting, done in the open, with leaders present, and with claims of protection from the very top. Heavy machines were used. Registers were opened. Gold was taken. All while the real owners were pushed aside. That tells you everything about who this country really works for.
Mining is supposed to be one of the pillars of our economy. It brings jobs, skills, and foreign money. But how can any serious company invest where a political card can cancel a legal contract overnight? How can workers feel safe when their workplace can be turned into a battlefield of party interests? This is not how economies grow. This is how they are stripped.
The most painful part is that this mine was not even abandoned. It was under restructuring, something that happens in business all the time. But instead of allowing a legal process to take its course, political groups saw an opportunity to grab. And because they are linked to power, they acted like the land, the gold, and the law all belong to them.
This is what people mean when they talk about captured institutions. Police watching and doing nothing. Officials being named as protectors. Courts being forced to clean up messes created by politicians. When law enforcement becomes scared of party structures, then citizens are left naked.
And then government officials go to conferences and say Zimbabwe is open for business. Open to who? Open to looters with party cards? Open to violence? Open to rule by muscle instead of contracts? No serious investor believes those speeches when reality on the ground tells a different story.
Property rights are not a small legal detail. They are the foundation of any economy. If you cannot be sure that what you legally own will still be yours tomorrow, you will not invest. You will not expand. You will not hire. And when businesses stop investing, workers lose jobs, communities sink deeper into poverty, and the country becomes poorer.
This invasion also sends another dangerous message to young people. It teaches them that politics, not skills, is the fastest way to money. That shouting slogans is more profitable than learning a trade. That violence pays better than hard work. That is not empowerment. That is moral poisoning.
Some will try to defend this by saying locals deserve access to resources. That argument is dishonest. Real empowerment comes through proper community ownership, legal small-scale mining, training, and safety. It does not come through gangs storming private property with political blessings. That is not empowerment. That is chaos being sold as justice.
The High Court case will now become another test. Not of law on paper, but of courage in practice. Can judges enforce the law when powerful names are involved? Can the system protect legal ownership when party interests are threatened? Zimbabweans are watching, and so is the world.
But even if the court rules correctly, the bigger problem remains. As long as political power can override legal rights, no judgement will fully fix the damage. Trust once broken is hard to rebuild. And right now, trust in Zimbabwe’s commitment to the rule of law is very low.
What happened at Vubachikwe is not an accident. It is the natural result of years of teaching people that loyalty to the party is more important than respect for the law. It is the result of turning institutions into tools of politics. It is the result of treating the economy like a feeding trough for connected elites.
Until this culture is broken, no slogan will save this country. Not “open for business”. Not “re-engagement”. Not “new dispensation”. Investors do not invest in slogans. They invest in systems. And right now, the system protects looters, not law.
This is not just about one mine. It is about what kind of country Zimbabwe chooses to be. A place of rules or a place of gangs. A place of contracts or a place of connections. A place of law or a place of fear. And at Vubachikwe, the answer was made painfully clear.