Veteran sungura musician Alick Macheso has shared a striking account of his early life, revealing that long before sold-out shows and chart-topping albums, he survived by hunting and selling mice in Dzivaresekwa, Harare. The revelation adds a human chapter to the story of one of Zimbabwe’s most enduring cultural icons—and underscores the grit behind his rise.

In last week’s column, "The Innovation Hub Harvest," we explored how you can utilize high-end university gear to move your production from "bedroom quality" to "global standards." We’ve covered the paperwork, the global digital passports, and the funding tricks.

The coordinated court appearance underscores a growing sense among musicians that the struggle over ZIMURA is no longer just administrative, it is about power, accountability, and the future of Zimbabwe’s music industry. As pressure mounts from members, unions, the courts, and the State, ZIMURA now stands at a crossroads: meaningful reform, or deeper crisis.

In our previous column, The Digital Stage: Using NDS2 to Sell Your Art Beyond the Border, we explored how Zimbabwean creatives can secure their “digital passports” tools such as ISRC codes, to earn global royalties. But even with international access, one reality remains: creative work needs capital to take off.

The bird hasn’t just landed. It has crash-landed straight into the cold reality of accountability. After nearly three decades of treating the Zimbabwe Music Rights Association (ZIMURA) like a personal estate, Polisile Ncube-Chimhini finally stepped down on February 10, 2026. This was no dignified retirement. It was a strategic retreat, forced by the weight of a fraud conviction, a High Court ruling, and relentless pressure from musicians who simply refused to stay silent. Le