By Cde Bekezela Mkonto kaMthwakazi
There’s a Shona saying: “Dzimwe dzendo taurayi madzoka.” It means don’t boast about a journey whose end you haven’t seen.
Fuel tycoon and tenderpreneur Mukoma Kuda Tagwirei might want to pin that above his bed.
Fresh from being booted out of a ZANU PF Central Committee meeting by Vice President Constantino Chiwenga—who reminded him that ZANU PF is not Sakunda Holdings—the moneyed magnate is back.
This time, in Epworth.
His reappearance at a recent ward by-election rally is no coincidence.
It’s a strategy, a grassroots one or so it’s dressed up to be.
However, don’t be fooled.
The Epworth “revival” was a spectacle choreographed with North Korean precision.
More than 45 buses ferried cheering masses from all corners of Harare.
The crowd was of course manufactured and the support was borrowed.
Musicians Enzo Ishall and Holy Ten belted out hits to mask the political flat notes.
Tagwirei mostly danced and smiled.
Money talks, they say. In Kuda’s case, it shuffles awkwardly on stage in borrowed political regalia.
His real aim is rebuilding political capital from below—after being publicly embarrassed at the highest level.
However true patriots we all know power in ZANU PF isn’t handed out like fuel coupons.
It’s fought for with ideology, blood, and backroom deals.
Tagwirei has only the money. And even that isn’t enough anymore.
Behind the scenes, he’s being propped up by Harare Province’s most ambitious clique: Godwills Masimirembwa, Ephraim Fundukwa, Voyage Dambuza, and Taurai Kandishaya. These men have turned Tagwirei into a walking ATM.
Buses, t-shirts, and musicians—everything on swipe.
But ideology, none the comrade, is shallow.
As for the political base its none -existent.
The Epworth crowd didn’t even know who he was. “I thought he was Holy Ten’s backup dancer,” one bemused attendee joked.
Meanwhile, party stalwarts like Chris Mutsvangwa aren’t buying the hype.
He’s already hinted that Tagwirei needs to go through the Herbert Chitepo Ideological College before he’s even allowed to dream of the Central Committee. And even that won’t be enough.
His failed attempt to buy influence—by splashing out on over 300 vehicles—was promptly shut down.
The party declared the cars ZANU PF property.
The refund is still pending and fuel coupons were declined.
Loyalty can’t be pumped like diesel.
In a bid to overturn his exclusion from the Central Committee, Tagwirei may now knock on the doors of either Obert Mpofu or Patrick Chinamasa.
However, party procedure is clear. Mpofu’s circular from 5 June barred him.
Chinamasa’s attempt to override it on 30 June was flatly rejected. A senior official summed it up: “The secretary-general is senior to legal affairs. Only the Presidium can overturn such directives.”
Translation: “Tagwirei is stuck.”
For now, Harare Province remains the hotbed of factional chaos, and Tagwirei is its most expensive experiment.
While Kandishaya and crew rant and rally, Mukoma Kuda smiles, dances, and waits.
He’s learning, the hard way, that ZANU PF is not a boardroom. It’s a battlefield.
And money alone doesn’t win revolutions.
