If land was the reason for the liberation struggle, why must Zimbabweans now buy it?
The liberation struggle in Zimbabwe was fought with a clear objective: to reclaim land from colonial rulers and redistribute it equitably among the black majority who had been dispossessed.
Thousands of lives were lost in pursuit of this vision.
Yet today, more than four decades after independence, the government has introduced a Land Tenure Implementation Program that raises fundamental questions about whether those sacrifices were in vain.
At the heart of this new policy is the issuance of title deeds to farmers who benefited from the land reform program.
On the surface, this appears to be a progressive step, allowing farmers to use land as collateral for loans and to engage in formal transactions.
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However, a closer examination exposes deep-rooted contradictions, ulterior motives, and glaring injustices that make this program appear less about empowering ordinary Zimbabweans and more about entrenching a new class of elite landowners.
To fully appreciate the significance of this new land tenure policy, we must first assess the actual beneficiaries of Zimbabwe's land reform program.
The government has long claimed that the fast-track land reform of the early 2000s was designed to correct colonial injustices and provide land to the landless majority.
Yet, studies have shown that only 7% of the rural population—those who were genuinely in need of land—actually benefited.
According to research by independent land commissions and scholars, approximately 170,000 households were resettled under the A1 model, while about 30,000 individuals, mostly elites and politically connected individuals, received larger A2 farms.
Given that Zimbabwe's rural population is estimated at around 10 million people, the total number of beneficiaries represents a small fraction of those who genuinely needed land.
Additionally, surveys conducted in communal areas showed that millions remained on overcrowded, infertile land, with little to no access to the productive farmland that was redistributed.
Instead, vast tracts of prime agricultural land ended up in the hands of politically connected individuals.
A 2010 study by the Zimbabwe Independent Land Commission found that multiple farms were allocated to senior government officials, military officers, and ruling party elites.
For instance, former President Robert Mugabe and his family controlled at least 15 farms, despite the government's 'one-man, one-farm' policy.
Cabinet ministers and high-ranking military officers owned over 160 farms collectively.
Meanwhile, thousands of ordinary citizens were resettled on poor, arid land with little to no infrastructure.
This raises a fundamental question: if land redistribution was meant to correct colonial injustices, why did the land simply shift from one privileged minority to another?
The reality is that Zimbabwe's land remains concentrated in the hands of a few, just as it was under colonial rule.
The only difference is that the new land barons are black, replacing the white settler class.
Given this reality, the government's Land Tenure Implementation Program must be interrogated.
Why, after forcibly seizing land from white farmers and claiming it was being returned to the people, is the government now selling land to Zimbabweans?
Was this the purpose of the liberation war?
During the war, fighters were clear that land belonged to all Zimbabweans, not to be commodified by the government.
Yet today, the same government that once declared land was the birthright of every citizen is demanding payment for title deeds.
The high costs associated with acquiring these title deeds effectively exclude many small-scale farmers and rural dwellers from participating in the program.
How does this empower the very people the government claims to be helping?
Even with the recent announcement that war veterans and long-serving civil servants will receive discounts, the costs remain unaffordable for most.
If those who fought for Zimbabwe's independence cannot afford these title deeds, what does that say about the sincerity of this program?
Beyond the financial burden, the legal framework around this land tenure program is also highly questionable.
According to Zimbabwe's constitution, all agricultural land belongs to the state and cannot be held in private hands.
So how can the government justify selling land to individuals when the supreme law of the country explicitly forbids private land ownership?
By issuing title deeds, the government is effectively contradicting its own legal framework.
What happens if a future administration reverses this policy?
Will these title deeds be rendered null and void?
The lack of legal clarity makes this program a high-risk investment, further undermining its credibility.
Economically, the justification that title deeds will help farmers access credit is also misleading.
Zimbabwe's financial institutions remain hesitant to accept land as collateral due to the political risk associated with land ownership.
Banks know that Zimbabwe's land policies are subject to sudden changes, making any land-based loan arrangement risky.
This means that despite having title deeds, most farmers will still struggle to secure meaningful financing.
So if small-scale farmers are largely excluded, and if the program lacks a solid legal and economic foundation, who is this land tenure policy really meant to benefit?
The answer is clear: the elite.
Those who acquired multiple farms through political connections now have the ability to sell their land legally.
This is a significant departure from the past, where resettled farmers were restricted from selling state land.
Now, with formalized ownership, they can cash in on their vast holdings, selling land at premium prices while ordinary Zimbabweans struggle to afford even a single plot.
The irony is that Ian Smith, the last Rhodesian Prime Minister, owned just one farm.
Yet today, many of Zimbabwe's ruling elite own multiple farms.
If land reform was meant to correct colonial injustices, why do millions of Zimbabweans remain landless while a handful of politically connected individuals control vast estates?
It is difficult to ignore the possibility that this land tenure policy is little more than a government money-making scheme disguised as reform.
By forcing farmers to pay for land they were allocated under the land reform program, the government is essentially monetizing the very asset it claimed to have given away freely.
This is not land redistribution—it is state-sponsored profiteering.
Even more concerning is the long-term impact of this policy.
Once land becomes a market commodity, its price will rise beyond the reach of ordinary citizens.
Over time, land will once again accumulate in the hands of a few wealthy individuals and corporations, effectively reversing the very purpose of land reform.
The Land Tenure Implementation Program represents a fundamental betrayal of the liberation struggle.
Instead of ensuring equitable land distribution, the government is selling land back to the very people it promised to empower.
Instead of dismantling the colonial-era land ownership structure, it is entrenching a new form of elitism, where land remains concentrated in the hands of a privileged few.
This is not what Zimbabweans fought for.
The liberation war was not about creating a black capitalist class that hoards land while millions remain dispossessed.
It was about justice, fairness, and national sovereignty.
If the government truly cares about land reform, it should focus on ensuring all Zimbabweans have access to productive land, providing support for farmers, and implementing policies that promote food security and economic growth.
Instead, it is pursuing a short-sighted, profit-driven agenda that benefits the few at the expense of the many.
This is not land reform.
This is a betrayal.
And Zimbabweans must not stand for it.
© Copyright The Zimbabwean. All rights reserved. Provided by SyndiGate Media Inc. (Syndigate.info).
Tendai Ruben Mbofana
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