By Cde Sikhosana Bambazonke
Vice President Kembo Mohadi took a break from his routine tours of liberation war shrines to grace Bulawayo with a “historic” gift: ten chemotherapy chairs.
Yes, ten.
Not doctors, medicines and a functioning radiotherapy machine but chairs.
The donation, courtesy of Dr Makaraubof’s Cancer Serve, could have quietly saved lives.
But in true ZANU PF style, it became a grand spectacle.
A ribbon was cut, speeches were made, and the symbolism was elevated to national achievement.
In our beloved teapot shaped country ceremonies cure diseases.
This was not new.
We’ve seen ministers inaugurate boreholes with the pomp of power stations.
ZANU PF’s legal affairs secretary Patrick Chinamasa once commissioned a dustbin.
Trabablas had his interchange.
Well as for Mohadi he has his chairs.
Each “event” is a revolutionary act in symbolism.
Cancer patients may die, but at least they will die sitting more comfortably.
The irony cuts deep.
Only two public hospitals in Zimbabwe are supposed to offer radiotherapy. Both are currently non-functional.
But instead of fixing machines or hiring doctors, leadership prioritises ribbon-cutting.
The ceremony becomes the medicine and the ululation becomes the morphine.
Mohadi’s chairs are not just furniture — they are metaphors.
They capture the essence of the Second Republic, a government fighting disease not with science, but with speeches, ribbons, and crowds forced to clap for nonsense.
Symbolism is the new substance, and illusion is the new policy.
In the end, Zimbabweans are left with better chairs to die in, but no better chance to live.
