GEORGE CHARAMBA: THE MAN TRAPPED BETWEEN TWO MASTERS
George Charamba’s political life has always been a masterclass in survival — not loyalty. The seasoned spokesperson for President Emmerson Mnangagwa finds himself, once again, caught in a web of divided allegiance. On paper, he serves Mnangagwa, drawing his salary from the public service and parroting State House talking points. But in the shadows of ZANU PF’s power games, his true political patron remains Vice President Constantino Chiwenga. This is not a new dilemma for Charamba. He played the same dangerous game under Robert Mugabe, where his conflicted allegiances eventually led to public humiliation at the hands of Grace Mugabe, the then First Lady, who tore into him for straddling two power centers.
The irony? He still hasn’t learned.
Today, Charamba is once again straining under the pressure of ZANU PF’s internal power struggles. His social media rant — poorly veiled in academic jargon and emojis — reveals a man desperate to pretend all is well when in fact the centre is not holding. “Haina bhobho storo iyoyo,” he wrote dismissively, urging people to stop speculating on a rift between Mnangagwa (ED) and Chiwenga (CDGN). But his long-winded account of recent events at a ZANU PF conference does more to expose the cracks than to seal them.
According to Charamba’s own words, President Mnangagwa made two moves that “surprised” delegates. First, he deferred to Chiwenga’s wife for pronunciation of a Ndebele word — bypassing other senior figures like Vice President Mohadi. It was a calculated public gesture of deference to Chiwenga’s household, not just a linguistic favor. Then came the real show: Mnangagwa handed over the day’s proceedings to Chiwenga to conclude, an act Charamba claims “literally delivered the Conference” into the Vice President’s hands. These are not random gestures. In the language of ZANU PF politics, they are loaded messages. When enemies in the party are watching closely, every handshake, nod, and delegation of duty carries symbolic weight.
Charamba goes on to gush about the “coincidence” between Mnangagwa and Chiwenga’s speeches, their shared metaphors, and their united front on corruption. But that unity, if it even exists, feels like a forced theatre. If both men were truly aligned, there would be no need for this desperate over-explanation. Real unity doesn’t require rehearsed metaphors or carefully staged deference. Charamba’s attempt to spin these moments into signs of strength only proves how fragile the situation actually is.
His obsessive emphasis on Vision 2030, corruption, and party unity rings hollow when viewed in the context of Zimbabwe’s political and economic reality. The same government that claims to be “unsparing” on corruption continues to protect the likes of Wicknell Chivayo, and remains deafeningly silent on the ZEC electoral scandal. Charamba’s praise for the supposed commitment to the party constitution and rule of law is laughable to anyone living under this regime’s iron fist. The only laws ZANU PF upholds are those that keep its leaders in power and the people in fear.
Charamba ends his rant with a defensive plea: “Musandipikisa; ndaive ndigere padivi zvichitaurwa.” Translation: don’t argue with me, I was right there when it was said. But being present doesn’t mean one understands the deeper game being played. Charamba may have had a front-row seat, but he’s still a pawn in a bigger, darker chess match between two powerful men whose rivalry could reshape the party — and the country. In the end, his loyalty to both may leave him with neither.
