Fellow countrymen, compatriots, and ZANU PF elites, it is that time again I rise from the grave to share my unparalleled political wisdom and insight.
Ah, my people, I look down from the beyond and shake my head.
First, let us discuss the curious case of Assistant Inspector Simbarashe Mandizvidza, who fancied himself the new boss of the police.
My word, the boy must be taking a new drug on the market that gives hallucinations laced with immense courage and valor.
My people, although Mandizvidza was arrested and remanded, yet here we are chuckling at a symptom far deeper than a single fool’s ambition.
Civil servants and security forces are showing signs of mental exhaustion, induced by low salaries, poor working conditions, and an economy that seems to dance on the head of a pin.
Of course, the learned finance minister Mthuli Ncube, in his ivory tower, brags that the economy has “grown.”
“Mthuli Miswa, iwe!” One wonders if the Second Republic has invented a new strain of economic madness.
My people, now my disappointment turns toward the University of Zimbabwe.
Nearly 7,000 graduates strutted in caps and gowns while lecturers were striking for fair pay.
The irony of celebrating degrees amid a strike is like serving sadza without relish: looks good on the plate but utterly tasteless in practice.
If this educational impasse continues, Emmerson, I fear your legacy of building progressive infrastructure may one day be whispered alongside tales of a president who assassinated educational integrity with ceremonial fanfare.
As for the graduates themselves, life after college is a theatre of tragicomedy.
The smart will pivot into lucrative trades unrelated to their degrees, while the stranded will clutch whatever opportunity comes their way.
The foolish, after months of fruitless job hunting, may turn to drugs, seeking chemical relief for ambitions denied by circumstance.
True patriots endure; the rest are cautionary tales for our grandchildren.
Oh, Emmerson, my successor-in-soul, do you remember the November 2017 coup?
Comrade Ruka Chivende, let us speak plainly.
The succession gridlock you now orchestrate mirrors my own mistakes.
Refusing to handpick a successor, ignoring factional tensions—these are old ghosts now haunting your administration.
The army, loyalists, and business tycoons circle like vultures, each seeking a perch atop ZANU PF’s tree.
If unaddressed, history may judge you with the same severity as the November 2017 chapter, and I am not speaking from the grave in vain.
Zimbabwe, my beloved, continues to wobble between brilliance and buffoonery.
Civil servants hallucinate authority, students parade hollow degrees, and the economy parades growth while people stagger in poverty.
Yet, from the grave, I remind you: wisdom persists, laughter persists, and the nation’s spirit endures—even if sanity is in short supply.
Until next time, Asante Sana!
