HARARE—The air in Zimbabwe’s political corridors is thick with the scent of old parchment and newer ambitions. Vice President Constantino Chiwenga, a man whose military past is as storied as his political present is contentious, stood before a gathering of ruling party faithful last week and delivered a warning wrapped in scripture. “Extra years are not always a blessing,” he intoned, invoking the Book of Ecclesiastes—a verse that has echoed through the halls of power since time immemorial, but rarely with such pointed timing.
The occasion? The Constitutional Amendment Bill No. 3 (CAB3), a legislative maneuver that, if passed, would extend the presidential age limit and reset term limits, effectively paving the way for President Emmerson Mnangagwa to remain in office beyond 2028. Chiwenga’s words, though cloaked in biblical metaphor, were a rare public fissure in ZANU-PF’s carefully cultivated unity—a party that has, for decades, presented a monolithic front even as its internal fractures deepen.
The Parable of the King Who Wouldn’t Let Go
Chiwenga’s warning didn’t emerge in a vacuum. Just days earlier, ZimLive reported on a private gathering where the vice president recounted the tale of a king who refused to relinquish power, only to see his kingdom crumble under the weight of his stubbornness. The allegory was thinly veiled. Mnangagwa, now 81, has already overseen two controversial elections and a constitutional amendment that reset his term limits in 2018. CAB3 is the latest gambit in a career defined by survival—first as Robert Mugabe’s enforcer, then as his usurper, and now as the man clinging to the throne he once helped seize.

But Chiwenga’s cautionary tale is more than just a political parable. It’s a reflection of a broader African trend: the aging strongman who equates longevity in office with stability, even as the continent’s youth bulge—60% of Africa’s population is under 25—grows increasingly restless. In Uganda, Yoweri Museveni, 79, has ruled for 38 years. In Cameroon, Paul Biya, who stepped down in 2024 at 91, left behind a country fractured by decades of one-man rule. And in Equatorial Guinea, Teodoro Obiang Nguema Mbasogo, 84, has held power since 1979, making him the longest-serving non-royal leader in the world.
“The problem isn’t just the extra years,” said Dr. Piers Pigou, a Southern Africa analyst at the International Crisis Group, in an interview with Archyde. “It’s the assumption that those years confer wisdom, rather than stagnation. Zimbabwe’s economy is in shambles, its institutions are hollowed out, and its people are exhausted. A leader who can’t let go isn’t a blessing—he’s a bottleneck.”
The Constitutional Shell Game
CAB3 is the third constitutional amendment since Mnangagwa took office in 2017, following the military-backed ouster of Mugabe. The first, in 2018, allowed the president to handpick judges and extended the retirement age for senior justices. The second, in 2021, abolished the running mate system and gave the president unilateral power to appoint the vice president—a move widely seen as a way to sideline Chiwenga, who had been a thorn in Mnangagwa’s side since the coup.
This latest amendment is the most brazen yet. It proposes to:
- Raise the presidential age limit from 70 to 80, retroactively applying to Mnangagwa.
- Reset term limits, allowing the president to serve two additional five-year terms, regardless of previous service.
- Remove the requirement for parliamentary approval of the president’s appointments to key security positions.
The bill has sparked outrage among opposition parties and civil society groups, who argue that it’s a naked power grab. NewZimbabwe.com reports that the Zimbabwe Congress of Trade Unions (ZCTU) has called for nationwide protests, even as the main opposition party, Citizens Coalition for Change (CCC), has vowed to challenge the amendment in court. “This is not a constitutional amendment,” said CCC spokesperson Fadzayi Mahere. “It’s a constitutional coup.”

But the real battle may not be in the streets or the courts—it’s within ZANU-PF itself. Chiwenga, a former general who played a pivotal role in Mugabe’s ouster, has long been seen as Mnangagwa’s most likely successor. His recent public statements suggest a growing rift between the two men, one that could destabilize the party ahead of the 2028 elections. “Chiwenga is sending a message,” said Derek Matyszak, a senior researcher at the Institute for Security Studies. “He’s reminding Mnangagwa—and the party—that power is not a birthright. It’s a loan, and loans come due.”
The Economics of Eternal Rule
Zimbabwe’s economy is a cautionary tale of what happens when power outlasts its utility. Inflation, which peaked at 500% in 2020, remains stubbornly high at 150%. The local currency, the Zimbabwean dollar, has lost 90% of its value against the U.S. Dollar since 2019. Unemployment hovers around 90%, and nearly half the population lives in extreme poverty, according to World Bank data.
The country’s economic woes are not solely the result of Mnangagwa’s rule—decades of mismanagement, corruption, and international sanctions have taken their toll. But his administration’s refusal to implement meaningful reforms has exacerbated the crisis. The government’s response to economic turmoil has been to print more money, impose price controls, and crack down on dissent—hardly the hallmarks of a leader preparing to hand over the reins.
“The longer a leader stays in power, the more the economy becomes a hostage to their personal interests,” said Tendai Biti, Zimbabwe’s former finance minister and a vocal critic of Mnangagwa. “You see it in the patronage networks, the crony capitalism, the erosion of institutions. Zimbabwe isn’t just stagnating—it’s regressing.”
Biti’s warning is echoed by international observers. The International Monetary Fund has repeatedly urged Zimbabwe to implement structural reforms, including reducing public debt, improving transparency, and strengthening the rule of law. But with Mnangagwa’s grip on power tightening, those reforms remain elusive. “The tragedy of Zimbabwe is that its people are ready for change,” said Pigou. “Its leaders are not.”
The Biblical Echoes of Power and Hubris
Chiwenga’s invocation of Ecclesiastes—“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven”—was not lost on Zimbabwe’s political class. The verse, often cited in moments of transition, carries particular weight in a country where power has been concentrated in the hands of a few for generations. Mugabe, who ruled for 37 years, famously dismissed calls for his resignation with the words, “Only God who appointed me will remove me.” Mnangagwa, it seems, has taken a page from the same playbook.

But history is littered with leaders who mistook their own indispensability for divine mandate. In 2017, Mugabe’s refusal to step aside led to a military intervention that ended his rule. Chiwenga, who played a key role in that coup, may be signaling that history could repeat itself. “The vice president is walking a tightrope,” said Matyszak. “He’s powerful enough to challenge Mnangagwa, but not powerful enough to do so openly. His words are a warning, but they’re too a test. How Mnangagwa responds will determine whether this remains a cold war or becomes a hot one.”
The stakes couldn’t be higher. Zimbabwe’s next election is still two years away, but the battle lines are already being drawn. If CAB3 passes, Mnangagwa will be free to run again in 2028—and possibly beyond. If it fails, the ensuing power struggle could plunge the country into chaos. Either way, Chiwenga’s warning lingers: Extra years are not always a blessing. Sometimes, they’re a curse.
What Comes Next?
For now, the ball is in Mnangagwa’s court. The president, who has remained conspicuously silent on Chiwenga’s remarks, is expected to address the nation in the coming days. Analysts will be watching closely for any signs of a crackdown—or a conciliatory gesture. Meanwhile, the opposition is mobilizing, and civil society groups are preparing for what could be a long and contentious fight.
But the real question is whether Zimbabwe’s leaders will heed the lessons of their own history. Mugabe’s fall was swift and brutal, a reminder that even the most entrenched leaders are not invincible. Chiwenga’s warning is a reminder that power, once wielded, must eventually be surrendered. The only question is whether it will be handed over—or torn from their grasp.
As the sun sets over Harare, the city’s skyline is dotted with the silhouettes of cranes and half-finished buildings—a testament to the promise of a new Zimbabwe that never quite materialized. The people below, weary but resilient, are left to wonder: Will their leaders ever learn that some seasons must end?
What do you think? Is Chiwenga’s warning a genuine call for reform, or a power play of his own? Share your thoughts in the comments below.