By Cde Sikhosana Bambazonke 

Last week, Zimbabwe’s political landscape had a plot twist spicier than Gava’s restaurant’s road runner—going from “hmm” to “BOOM,” literally and metaphorically.

War veteran–cum–person of interest Blessed Geza last Tuesday broke his social media fast to announce that President Emmerson Mnangagwa is “packing his bags.”

Yes, True Patriots, you heard that right.

The man who once walked into the bush to free Zimbabwe now claims he can see ED heading back to the village with his Samsonite luggage.

If that wasn’t dramatic enough, the Zimbabwe Defence Forces apparently decided to co-sign Geza’s prophecy by rolling 30 military tanks into Harare.

For absolutely no reason.

No parade.

No Independence Day.

Not even a Jah Prayzah concert.

Just… tanks. Vrrr-pah! On the streets.

Citizens were stunned, confused, and some even wondered if the tanks were looking for parking at the nearest Zanu PF politburo meeting.

Well, apparently, they weren’t.

They were allegedly “just drilling.”

Although at this point, the only thing being drilled is the public’s sense of security.

However, the war veteran–cum–fugitive Geza wasn’t done dropping nukes.

He turned his sights to the holy fuel prophet himself, Kudakwashe “Mr. Tenderpreneur” Tagwirei, accusing him of using loot from corrupt deals to sponsor a presidential dream more bloated than a Harare kombi during peak hour.

“Tagwirei, don’t play with us! You’re too, too, too small!”

True Patriots, to be honest, Geza’s heavy words sounded less like a political statement and more like a grumpy uncle yelling at a cocky nephew at a family gathering.

Just in case you’re wondering, this isn’t the first time tanks have shown up right after Geza speaks.

Back in February, armoured vehicles casually moonwalked through Borrowdale like they were checking house prices—just days after Geza’s last apocalyptic broadcast.

The military again said, “routine drill.”

Now, hold your Charles Glass and political curiosity—last week’s tank joyride just so happened to land on Vice President Constantino Chiwenga’s birthday.

Could it have been a gift?

Or a not-so-subtle reminder that he once was the military?

Either way, Zimbabweans are left wondering: is this a birthday bash or a political bash?

Meanwhile, Mnangagwa’s Agenda 2030 faction—an ambitious squad led by Tagwirei and featuring characters like Temptor Tungwarara, local government minister Daniel Garwe, and ICT–cum–TikTok Minister Tatenda Mavetera—is suddenly looking a bit shaky.

Apparently, even Chiwenga had enough and thundered about cracking down on “shadowy business dealings.”

Widely interpreted by political analysts as, “Tagwirei, we see you.”

So, who’s really in charge here?

The tanks say one thing, Geza says another, and the silence from the ministry of information is louder than a generator at Guzzlers, Kuwadzana 6.

All we know is that Zanu PF’s internal war is no longer happening behind closed doors.

It’s in the streets, on YouTube Lives, in WhatsApp groups, and possibly, your backyard.

As for Geza—he’s still talking.