Anatomy of a Meltdown: How ZIMURA’s Own Words Exposed the Rot

ZIMURA’s January 2026 press statements reveal deep governance failures, hostility toward members, and defiance of court rulings, raising serious questions about legitimacy within the musicians’ union (image source)

If institutions could commit unforced errors, ZIMURA’s January 2026 press statements would be studied in business schools under the heading: How to Accelerate Your Own Collapse. In two extraordinary documents, the Secretariat did not merely respond to criticism; it detonated its own credibility, publicly declaring war on its members, the courts, and the most basic principles of corporate governance.

This was not crisis management. It was institutional self-harm.

The 12 January statement, issued in response to the Avondale property scandal, reads like a textbook case of bureaucratic arrogance. Instead of addressing the substance of member concerns, the Secretariat retreats into semantic gymnastics, insisting, “We did not own a building, only two flats.” The distinction is neither clever nor reassuring. Whether flats or a building, the assets belonged to musicians. Attempting to minimise the issue only amplifies suspicion about what is being concealed.

At the centre of the statement is the invocation of Article 41, wielded as a blunt instrument against the membership. The message is clear: consultation is optional. By asserting that the Board can dispose of assets without meaningful member engagement, the Secretariat inadvertently admits to running ZIMURA as an autocracy rather than a member-owned collective management organisation. That is not governance; it is rule by decree.

Equally troubling is the so-called “kitchen office” justification. The Secretariat argues that the sale was necessary because staff were working in dilapidated conditions. This explanation raises a far more uncomfortable question. If offices were collapsing, where did years of collected royalties go? Poor infrastructure is not a defence. It is evidence of chronic mismanagement.

If the first statement was arrogant, the 16 January follow-up was openly hostile. Elected directors Dereck Mpofu, Gift Amuli and Joseph Garakara are labelled “rogue elements,” “sponsored agents,” even “termites.” This is not the language of a professional institution. It is the rhetoric of a cornered elite. When allegations cannot be countered with facts, the playbook shifts to character assassination.

The irony is glaring. The same statement proclaims that ZIMURA is “unified,” yet it is issued by a Secretariat that has locked its own Communications Chair out of official platforms. This is not unity. It is a Secretariat-led takeover dressed up as administrative order.

Most striking, however, is what both statements carefully avoid. There is no reference to High Court Case HH 438-25, which ruled that the position of “Executive Director” does not exist under ZIMURA’s Articles of Association. Rather than confronting this legal reality, the Secretariat simply declares itself the “sole authorised channel” of communication. In any serious organisation, defying a court ruling would trigger resignations. At ZIMURA, it triggers press releases.

The internal logic on display borders on the absurd. Employees discipline and sideline their own Board. A convicted official is recast as a victim. Journalistic scrutiny is reframed as sabotage. This is not confusion. It is a worldview.

The conclusion is unavoidable. ZIMURA is not under attack from shadowy “external agents.” It is being hollowed out from within by an Old Guard that appears to believe it is above the law, above the courts, and above the musicians whose money sustains the institution. For more than 5,000 artists watching their royalties shrink while statements grow more belligerent, the message is unmistakable.

The crisis at ZIMURA is no longer about communication failures. It is about legitimacy. And legitimacy, once lost, cannot be press-released back into existence.