Economy Uncensored with Tapiwanashe Mangwiro
As the curtain closes on 2024, we find ourselves sitting at the edge of yet another economic precipice, a place both familiar and unnervingly unpredictable.
Zimbabwe, with its unique blend of resilience and chaos, has waltzed through a year that defied conventional rhythm, a year where hope was both a commodity and a gamble. Like a battered orchestra, we tuned instruments that refused to stay in harmony, but somehow, we played on.
Economics, much like life, has its cycles, booms and busts, moments of calm before the storm. Yet this year, it felt like the cycles spun on fast-forward, a whirlwind of policies, protests, and promises.
From the shock of ZiG’s rollout to the slap of fuel taxes, from power blackouts to headline-grabbing fiscal expansions, the economy became a theatre where everyone played a part, willingly or not.
But here we are, dear reader, still standing, though perhaps wobbling on one leg.
The currency chronicles: ZiG’s debut and our old wounds
April 2024 will forever be remembered as the month Zimbabwe’s Reserve Bank unveiled its latest brainchild: the Zimbabwe Gold (ZiG). Oh, what optimism the “structured currency” inspired at first! We stood in line with a cautious curiosity, imagining a monetary miracle that would silence the parallel market’s whispers.
The governor spoke of gold reserves, of stability, of rebirth, and we wanted to believe him.
But as the old bond notes clattered in tin shacks, tossed aside like forgotten relics, the familiar smell of panic wafted through the streets. Vendors, bus conductors, and informal traders, those who often determine the real exchange rate became oracles of distrust.
“Do you have change?” turned into an existential question, and prices in USD crept up like mischievous shadows.
It is not that we do not want to believe in the ZiG. It is that we have been here before. We have had bearer cheques, RTGS dollars, bond notes, and now gold-backed promises. Currency stability, we have learned, is not an announcement, it is a hard-won trust.
Blackouts and backups: A year in the dark
If 2024 had a soundtrack, it would be the hum of diesel generators and the occasional expletive when the lights went out mid-sentence. Power shortages became a defining feature of this year, as ZESA’s promises flickered on and off like faulty bulbs. Mining companies, the backbone of our economy, cried foul as production stalled. Small businesses recalibrated survival strategies: more diesel, fewer profits.
We were told, of course, that salvation was on the horizon: six captive power projects, thousands of megawatts promised by 2025. Sydney Gata’s optimism was admirable, even enviable. But we, the people, learned to celebrate small victories. A day without load shedding? A miracle. A week where the fridge stayed cold? A blessing.
In the dark, we danced to the rhythm of necessity. We found ways to keep moving, we always do.
The Chicken Game: Government, industry, and the art of compromise
Ah, the great tax showdown of 2024, a masterclass in brinkmanship as the Government played the role of the stern parent, industry the rebellious teenager, and taxpayers the helpless spectators in the backseat.
When the dust settled, both sides declared victory, though we all know who set the rules of the game.
The truth is, economic policy making in Zimbabwe is rarely about winners and losers. It is about survival. The Government needs revenue, businesses need breathing room and somewhere in between, compromises are struck, though the bruises remain. In 2024, the dance was tense but necessary, and we emerged with lessons worth remembering, bold policies require trust, and trust is earned, not imposed.
The parallel market: Zimbabwe’s favourite villain
For all the policy changes, one constant remained: the parallel market. Like a shadow that refuses to disappear, it crept through the economy, setting prices and defying controls. The more the authorities tightened the screws, the more the market slipped through their fingers.
Nostro accounts, forex restrictions, and convertibility laws became battlegrounds, but the black market simply shrugged and carried on.
It is easy to blame the parallel market for our woes, but the truth is more complex. It exists because the formal economy leaves gaps we cannot afford to ignore.
A toast to the hustlers
So, as we bid farewell to 2024, let us raise a glass, not to the policymakers or the economists, but to the hustlers. To the vendors who sold tomatoes in the scorching sun, to the miners who dug deep, both underground and into their pockets. To the bus drivers who found change where there was none. To the teachers, the nurses, the artisans, the innovators.
Zimbabwe’s economy is not driven by spreadsheets or press statements. It is driven by people, ordinary people who wake up every day and make magic out of nothing.
In 2024, we saw pain and progress, despair and determination, but through it all, we saw hope. Not the loud, flashy kind of hope, but the quiet, stubborn kind that refuses to quit.
Looking ahead: 2025, bring it on
As the sun sets on this year, we look to 2025 with the same mix of skepticism and optimism that has carried us through decades of economic storms. We do not expect miracles, but we do expect progress, measured, meaningful progress that touches every corner of our society.
To the policymakers, listen to the people. To the people, keep dancing, keep hustling, and keep believing.
Zimbabwe’s story is far from over, and if this year has taught us anything, it is this: we may stumble, we may fall, but we will always rise again.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Zimbabwe. Here is to the hustle, the hope, and the journey ahead.
Tapiwanashe Mangwiro is a resident economist with the Business Weekly and writes this in his own capacity. @willoe_tee on twitter and Tapiwanashe Willoe Mangwiro on LinkedIn
