By Cde Honest Vhura Hombe
Harare’s Central Business District has quietly rebranded itself into a live-action disaster zone, courtesy of the combined talents of the Zimbabwe Republic Police (ZRP) and the ever-energetic Council Police.
What should be law enforcement now resembles an extreme sport, part intimidation, part improv, with a dash of panic.
These two agents in uniform, officially tasked with keeping order, have instead mastered the choreography of confusion.
The CBD is their favourite stage, where civic discipline is performed as slapstick chaos, and everyone else is an unwilling extra.
For years, council police, the enforcement arm of local government, and the ZRP have maintained an unholy alliance built on harassment, intimidation, and creative interpretations of fines.
It is law enforcement, but with the ethics of a street hustle.
Vendors, driven onto pavements by a collapsed formal job market, now live in a permanent game of cat-and-mouse.
The cat, unfortunately, charges an “administration fee” before deciding whether to pounce.
Instead of enforcing the law, the duo appear to have turned extortion into a public revenue model.
From terrorising vendors just trying to earn a living, to shaking down formal businesses at roadside checkpoints, their tactics feel less like policing and more like a poorly scripted crime drama.
This is not random misbehaviour; it is policy with muscle.
In March 2025, the ZRP and municipal police launched a nationwide vendor eviction blitz following a government ultimatum — an operation critics say produced more chaos than compliance.
Their most dangerous performance, however, is the high-speed chase.
In Harare’s congested streets, these pursuits — often triggered by disputes with kombis or pirate taxis — have become routine, reckless, and terrifying.
Motorists and pedestrians describe scenes of panic as officers tear through busy intersections, turning daily commutes into survival exercises.
The risk of collisions, injuries, and death is treated as collateral damage.
Even more troubling is when “law enforcement” appears to double as bribe enforcement.
Vehicles are chased not because they are unsafe, but because they look profitable.
Two recent incidents capture the absurdity and danger of this hybrid chaos squad.
In one case, after extorting a fine from a motorist, council police clamped his vehicle anyway.
When the frustrated owner returned, he was struck and killed by a speeding car fleeing a ZRP chase on a one-way road.
Both enforcement units reportedly disappeared from the scene, leaving behind blood, broken glass, and unanswered questions.
The clean-up was swift; accountability was not.
Such vanishing acts are becoming routine.
When allegations of brutality or harassment surface, the ZRP often responds with theatrical denials, dismissing incidents as “misinformation” or “old footage” — even when hundreds of witnesses say otherwise.
Reality is rebranded as fiction, and grief is waved off as propaganda.
Corruption scandals within the ZRP only deepen the farce.
In 2025, several officers were arrested for armed robbery and extortion, accused of using their uniforms as tools of intimidation.
In Harare CBD, officers were caught on camera accepting bribes mid-duty, a moment of honesty that briefly pierced the illusion of order.
The irony is sharp enough to cut glass.
These institutions exist to uphold the law, yet they repeatedly violate it with confidence and impunity.
Authorities insist these operations are necessary to enforce by-laws and restore order.
Critics counter that vendors are offered no alternatives, no facilities, and no economic lifelines.
Pavements become workplaces by necessity, not choice, and punishment replaces policy.
Zimbabweans do not need a police-council mash-up chasing shadows through the CBD like it’s a low-budget action film.
They need safety, dignity, and justice, not law enforcement that profits from fear, feeds on chaos, and exits the scene before the dust settles.
