A Nation in Motion, Going Nowhere

HARARE — Zimbabwe is not standing still. That much is clear. The roads are busy. The bars are full. The WhatsApp groups never sleep. There is movement everywhere, economic, social, and political. Yet beneath that constant motion lies an uncomfortable question, are we moving forward, or just moving?

This is the paradox of present-day Zimbabwe. Activity has replaced progress. Noise has replaced direction. We are in motion, yes, but motion alone is not a destination. We are a nation of hustlers now. Everyone is selling something, chasing something, building something, often out of necessity rather than ambition. The Zimbabwean informal economy is no longer a side story, it is the main plot.

By some estimates, over 70% of Zimbabwe’s economic activity now happens outside the formal system. Street corners have become marketplaces, commuter omnibuses are mobile shops, and social media timelines double as storefronts. This ingenuity is remarkable. It speaks to a people who refuse to collapse, who bend but do not break. But it also reveals something more troubling: an economy that no longer provides structure, forcing citizens to create their own piece by piece, day by day.

But survival, by its very nature, is short-term. It does not build systems. It does not create stability. It does not imagine the future. It is reactive, not strategic. And so we find ourselves trapped in a cycle of perpetual urgency, where the next deal, the next payment, the next opportunity is always more important than the long-term economic view.

This urgency is visible in Zimbabwean politics, too. Statements are made with speed. Positions are taken with certainty. Outrage flares, trends, and disappear within hours. Today’s crisis is replaced by tomorrow’s spectacle. We react quickly, loudly, and often emotionally, but rarely strategically. Even our national conversations feel rushed. Important issues surface, dominate attention briefly, and then vanish before they are resolved. We are always responding. Rarely shaping. Always engaging. Rarely directing.

To be fair, this is not a country devoid of progress. There are pockets of excellence in innovation, in agriculture in Zimbabwe, in small business growth, and in the diaspora’s contribution to household survival. But these successes are fragmented. They exist in isolation, not as part of a coherent national trajectory.

Even success, when it comes, feels oddly hollow. A new car. A new house. A viral moment. These are celebrated and rightly so, but they often exist as personal milestones in a system that still feels collectively uncertain.

It is telling that many Zimbabweans measure success not by what they build here, but by how quickly they can leave or at least create an exit option. The dream is increasingly external. The safety net is elsewhere. And yet, despite all this, there is something undeniably resilient about Zimbabweans. A stubborn refusal to collapse. A creativity that thrives under pressure. A capacity to adapt that borders on extraordinary.

But resilience, while admirable, can also become a trap. It allows systems to remain broken because people find ways to survive within them. It softens the urgency for reform. It normalises dysfunction. The danger is not that Zimbabweans are failing. It is that Zimbabweans are coping too well with dysfunction. A country cannot outsource its future to the ingenuity of its citizens alone. At some point, systems must work. Institutions must function. Policy must translate into lived reality. Progress must become visible, measurable, and shared.

Otherwise, we remain busy but directionless.

Active but unaligned. In motion but without momentum.

Zimbabwe is not short of motion.

It is short of meaning.

And until that changes, we will remain a nation that is always in transit but never quite arriving.

Simbarashe Namusi is a peace, leadership, and governance scholar as well as a media expert writing in his personal capacity.

Zimbabwe economic and political paradox