2 days ago
Zimbabwe: Minister Muswere, job creation is more than just numbers—it should be about decent work and transforming lives
The Zimbabwean government has once again gone into overdrive, trumpeting supposed 'milestones' of the so-called Second Republic.
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This time, it is the Dinson Iron and Steel Company (Disco) project in Manhize, owned by Tsingshan Holding Group of China, that has become the latest stage-managed spectacle.
Over the weekend, journalists from both public and private media were herded like schoolchildren on a carefully choreographed tour of the steel plant, led by Information Minister Jenfan Muswere.
His proud declaration was that over 2,000 locals had been employed at the site—a figure paraded as if it were the ultimate evidence of national progress.
Of course, President Emmerson Mnangagwa's government is already over the moon.
Two thousand jobs!
For an administration presiding over a country where unemployment is estimated at over 90 percent, this figure was splashed across the media as if manna had fallen from heaven.
To them, this is a huge political feat, a major 'win' worthy of being showcased.
Yet, had I been one of the journalists on the ground, my first instinct would not have been to marvel at this number, but to probe.
Two thousand jobs, yes—but what kind of jobs?
What specific roles are these workers carrying out?
Are they skilled technical positions that transfer knowledge to locals, or merely menial, back-breaking roles at the lowest rung of the ladder?
Were workers provided with adequate protective equipment to safeguard their health and lives in such a hazardous industry?
Most critically, how much are they being paid?
What is the lowest wage and what is the highest?
Do these employees receive pensions, medical aid, housing allowances, or educational support for their children?
What conditions govern their employment contracts?
None of these questions were addressed in the glowing report.
If the creation of these 2,000 jobs was such a big deal that it dominated the media coverage, why was the substance left out?
Could it be that there is little to boast about beyond the mere figure?
Surely, if the conditions of service and benefits were truly transformative, both the minister and the company would have paraded these proudly before the assembled journalists.
Instead, we are left with vague platitudes and incomplete information, raising more suspicion than confidence.
Employment, after all, is not just about filling positions.
The International Labour Organization (ILO) has long defined the global standard of 'decent work' as employment that is productive and delivers a fair income, security in the workplace, and social protection for families.
It should also provide better prospects for personal development and social integration, freedom for workers to express their concerns, organize, and participate in decisions that affect their lives, as well as equal opportunities and treatment for all women and men.
In short, work should not merely exist—it should empower, uplift, and dignify.
That is what governments are supposed to safeguard when announcing job creation, not simply throw figures around to impress.
Sadly, this is not what we are witnessing in Zimbabwe under the Mnangagwa administration.
Time and again, Chinese investments have been rolled out with much fanfare, but what lies beneath the surface is exploitation and abuse.
As a social justice advocate, I have received numerous complaints from workers at such companies across the country.
They speak of being subjected to appalling working conditions that border on modern-day slavery.
Wages are meagre, and even then, often delayed.
Workers toil without adequate safety equipment, facing dangerous environments with little regard for their health.
Female employees have reported sexual exploitation at the hands of supervisors, either as a condition to secure a job or to keep it.
Communities around these companies see no meaningful investment in their welfare—no hospitals, no schools, no decent housing, no infrastructure that improves their lives.
Perhaps this explains why journalists on such government-led tours are never given the freedom to speak with workers privately or wander into nearby communities to observe conditions first-hand.
Everything has to be managed, scripted, and controlled.
Because if independent observation were allowed, the truth would emerge, and it would not be flattering.
This strikes a particularly personal chord for me, having been born and raised in Redcliff, once the proud home of the Zimbabwe Iron and Steel Company (Ziscosteel).
That community was not just about jobs; it was about an entire way of life.
Ziscosteel practically built the town from scratch, creating decent residential suburbs for its 5,000 workers.
Torwood housed shopfloor workers, Rutendo catered for general labourers, while apprentices were accommodated in flats.
Each of these areas was fully serviced, with reliable electricity and water, schools, and a huge hospital.
Redcliff's low-density suburb boasted world-class sporting facilities, shopping centres housing all the major banks and supermarkets, and upmarket homes that earned it the nickname 'Little London.'
This morning, as we basked in the sun, my mother, a former nurse and surgical nurse at Torwood Hospital, reminisced about the kinds of procedures they once carried out in the facility.
They performed complex operations—from neurosurgery to major interventions—necessitated by the severe and varied injuries that could occur in a hazardous environment like steelmaking, including crush injuries, burns, fractures, and head trauma.
Today, these procedures are only done at central hospitals, or worse, require Zimbabweans to seek treatment abroad due to lack of specialists or equipment.
She remarked that the surgical tools and machinery she worked with during the colonial era at Torwood were far more advanced than anything she had seen later in independent Zimbabwe.
That was the standard of life and healthcare provided under a single steel company.
Employment there was not just about wages; it was about building a thriving community.
Can we say the same of Disco, or any of the other Chinese investors Mnangagwa's government lauds?
What do the people of Marange have to show for the billions of dollars in diamonds extracted from their land over nearly two decades?
Farai Maguwu of the Centre for Natural Resource Governance (CNRG) exposed shocking images of a local hospital where patients sleep on the floor or on makeshift beds of discarded doors—this in an area supposedly sitting on untold mineral wealth.
Where is the transformation?
Where are the schools, the hospitals, the reliable utilities?
If the government is sincere about development, then projects like Disco must fundamentally change the lives of ordinary Zimbabweans.
Figures and promises mean nothing if the lived reality is exploitation, poverty wages, and communities left in despair.
What is 2,000 jobs when workers are treated like disposable tools, with no dignity or protection?
True development is measured by the tangible improvements in people's quality of life, not in hollow numbers.
The real tragedy is that our own leaders have become complicit in this charade.
Instead of protecting their citizens, they shield exploitative investors, often with vested personal interests.
The Mnangagwa administration's obsession with photo opportunities and grand announcements has blinded it to the responsibility of ensuring that Zimbabweans are not reduced to cheap labour for foreign companies.
We are not a marketplace for slavery.
Zimbabweans deserve decent jobs that empower them, safe working environments, fair wages, and communities that thrive, not just survive.
Anything less is a betrayal.
Until this becomes the standard by which development is measured, all the noise about '2,000 jobs at Manhize' is nothing more than empty propaganda.
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