By Mthokozisi Mabhena
LAST week’s compelling reflections by Mashingaidze Gomo on, what I deduced as the importance of sustainable self-development, struck a deep chord with me. They were not only timely but urgent and they should summon a soul-searching moment for every Zimbabwean alive today, especially the young and the able. The conversation on sustainability has become more critical than ever.
The question. “What will I do for my country in the next 45 years?”, I asked in my last article is not a rhetorical question, nor is it an academic exercise. It is a question that demands action, imagination and commitment. It demands sacrifice. And, above all, it demands that we begin to understand development not as a once-off miracle but as a continuous, evolving process rooted in context, carried by imaginative minds that think beyond the now.
Zimbabwe’s Vision 2030 is now five years into implementation. The goal is clear: an upper-middle-income economy by the end of the decade. But such a vision cannot fully materialise unless we commit to sustainable self-development, development that feeds itself, renews itself and is rooted in the values, contexts, and resources of our land. We must ask ourselves, what kind of development do we want? And, more importantly, how do we make sure it lasts?
Indeed, the introduction of innovation hubs in Zimbabwean universities is perhaps one of the most significant state-led interventions of our time. It signals a shift from passive consumption to need for active creation. For once, we are acknowledging the power of our own intellect, the brilliance in our classrooms, and the ingenuity in our youth.
As alluded this initiative, if nurtured correctly, could become a generational turning point. It could stop the tragic phenomenon of graduates roaming the streets with degrees but no opportunity. These hubs have the potential to anchor a new economic model, one that rewards knowledge, encourages invention, and supports small-scale industrialisation rooted in local needs.
But — and here lies the caution Gomo wisely issued, many well-intentioned programmes have died young because they were born into environments that could not support them. Innovation, to thrive, needs more than funding and infrastructure. It needs a culture that values ideas, institutions that protect intellectual property, a financial system that backs local startups, and above all, leadership that understands the slow, steady rhythm of real development.
We must avoid the temptation to turn these hubs into PR gimmicks, ribbon-cutting photo ops with no real follow-through or meaningful projects other than copy and paste technologies. Let us not rush to showcase ‘innovation’ before nurturing its roots. True innovation is not glamorous in its early days. It is messy, iterative and often invisible. But it is the backbone of every self-sustaining economy in the world.
Sustainability has become a buzzword, but its true meaning remains elusive in many of our policies and practices. Sustainability, at its core, means continuity. It means that the actions we take today must not compromise the ability of future generations to meet their own needs. It means building institutions that last, skills that multiply, economies that regenerate.
For Zimbabwe, sustainable development cannot be imported. It cannot be modelled entirely on Western paradigms, no matter how successful they may seem from afar. Our sustainability must come from within, from our soil, our struggles, our stories, and our spirit. We must develop models that answer to our own realities.
This is not to reject global ideas or partnerships. On the contrary, Zimbabwe must remain globally connected. But what we must guard against is development that is extractive, fleeting or externally dictated. We have seen what happens when development is donor-driven: it dies the moment the donor’s chequebook closes. We have seen what happens when projects are not owned by communities: they rust into oblivion the moment the foreign consultant boards the plane home.
To build sustainably, we must trust ourselves. We must see value in our own thinkers, our own teachers, our own craftsmen and women. We must solve our own problems using our own logic.
Our education system must also evolve if we are to realise Vision 2030. For too long, we have educated our children to pass exams and leave. We have taught them to aspire to escape, to find greener pastures elsewhere, to emulate foreign lives. We have not taught them to stay, build, and belong.
Education must become the launchpad of innovation. Every school, college, and university should be a seedbed of local solutions. Imagine a curriculum that teaches rural students how to harness solar power from the sun that bakes their fields daily. Imagine engineering students designing low-cost irrigation systems. Imagine young entrepreneurs producing cheaper, durable furniture from local timber and waste plastics.
This is not a fantasy. It is already happening in pockets of excellence across the continent, in Rwanda’s digital revolution, in Kenya’s mobile money systems, in Ghana’s tech incubators. Zimbabwe can join this renaissance if we stop measuring education by how far it takes us from our roots and instead by how deeply it equips us to transform them.
Zimbabwe’s youth are its greatest asset. Vision 2030 will succeed or fail based on how the youth are empowered to shape it. Not just as beneficiaries, but as architects.
The youths have been given access to land, capital and now need mentorship. Their innovations must be protected and funded. But, more importantly, their mindset must be reshaped. They must believe that they are not just inheritors of systems, but should be creators of new ones. The most dangerous thing that can happen to a nation is when its youth lose hope. And the most powerful thing is when they find purpose.
What will I do for my country in the next 45 years? Zimbabwe has given you and me a name, an identity, a history. What will you and I give back?
Too many of us sit on the sidelines, commenting, critiquing, or waiting for things to improve. But sustainable development will not fall from the sky. It will not come from South Africa, the Diaspora, or some mythical investor. It will come from us, with our hands, our sweat, our patience and our faith.
If each Zimbabwean committed to building just one thing, a business, a clinic, a classroom, a software app, a mentorship programme , in the next five years, imagine the compound effect. That is how nations are built by everyday people doing small things consistently and deliberately.
As we march towards 2030, we must cultivate a new way of seeing ourselves. We must stop waiting to be saved and start preparing to lead. We must see our challenges not as curses, but as invitations to innovate. We must value what we have, while improving it with what we know and learn.
Our future lies not in mimicry, but in mastery of our own reality. If innovation hubs become the engines of context-specific creativity, if sustainability becomes the measure of every project, and if every citizen answers the call of what will I do for my country then Vision 2030 will become a lived reality sooner rather than later.
Zimbabwe has everything it needs to succeed. But the most important ingredient is one we too often ignore: belief. Belief that we are enough. Belief that we can build. Belief that this time, it can last.
Let us not waste this moment. Let us build sustainably, proudly, and together, on our own terms.
