By Business Reporter –Wicknell Chivayo Friday overshadowed President Mnangagwa’s two deputies, Constantino Chiwenga and Kembo Mohadi, after he dominated Mnangagwa’s entourage and official motorcade at the Zimbabwe International Trade Fair (ZITF) in Bulawayo.
Mnangagwa arrived at the 65th edition of the country’s premier trade showcase alongside Mozambican President Daniel Chapo, this year’s guest of honour.
But it was Chivayo’s conspicuous presence—riding in the presidential convoy—that ignited fresh public outrage and sharpened concerns over state capture and the growing influence of politically connected elites in Zimbabwe’s faltering economy.
In a moment dripping with irony, the President of Zimbabwe entered a venue meant to celebrate transparency and opportunity while flanked by Chivayo, a convicted criminal under investigation by South Africa’s Financial Intelligence Centre for allegedly diverting over R1 billion in public funds.
Far from a mere observer, Chivayo was visually dominant in the footage, symbolising more than just proximity to power—he became the embodiment of the event’s glaring contradictions.
Once again, Chivayo’s name is tied to a string of opaque and controversial tenders: the failed Gwanda Solar Project, the Zimbabwe Electoral Commission (ZEC) ballot paper deal, and most recently, a jaw-dropping USD $627 million road construction tender.
His presence alongside Mnangagwa didn’t just raise eyebrows—it shattered any lingering illusions about the administration’s commitment to clean governance.
Although Mnangagwa has repeatedly denied personal business links to Chivayo, their public appearances continue tospeak louder than the denials.
Friday’s ZITF showcase offered more than optics—it offered a message.
That message, many argue, is damning: in Zimbabwe, power protects its own, even when corruption is in plain sight.
Appearing with a man whose voice has been heard in leaked audio tapes openly coordinating tender grabs, at a trade fair branded as a celebration of “innovative and honest business,” reflects not just poor political judgment—it signals disdain for public accountability.
In a country battling broken infrastructure, a collapsing health sector, and plummeting investor confidence, Chivayo’selevation in official spaces sends a chilling signal: the looting class is not only tolerated, it is celebrated.
Chivayo, popularly known on social media as “Sir Wicknell,” has become both a symbol of political impunity and a flashpoint for public frustration.
Despite lacking the technical expertise or delivery track record, he has controversially secured billion-dollar government contracts—many of which remain incomplete or have collapsed entirely.
His most infamous deal, the $173 million Gwanda Solar Project awarded in 2015 to his company Intratrek Zimbabwe, remains unfinished nearly a decade later.
Despite no progress on the ground, Chivayo received substantial advance payments from the Zimbabwe Power Company (ZPC), prompting criticism from the Auditor-General and members of Parliament.
Investigations into the deal unearthed glaring red flags, including the absence of a bank guarantee and premature disbursement of funds.
While the Zimbabwe Anti-Corruption Commission (ZACC) initially opened an inquiry, the case has since gone silent—fueling widespread belief that Chivayo enjoys high-level political protection.
His growing closeness to Mnangagwa is no longer subtle. He frequently appears at state functions, has posed for photos at State House, and floods social media with praise for the president, whom he hails as the “father of the nation.”
A vocal cheerleader of Mnangagwa’s #Vision2030 policy—which critics argue is more rhetorical flourish than reform—Chivayo has become a central figure in the theatre of Zimbabwean politics.
Yet despite the highly public nature of their interactions, Mnangagwa continues to deny any formal ties.
Those denials, however, ring increasingly hollow in the face of images showing Chivayo riding in the presidential motorcade at one of the country’s flagship economic events.
The optics have drawn fierce criticism from opposition parties and civil society groups, who argue that Chivayo’selevation reflects how deeply corruption has been entrenched under Mnangagwa’s rule.
“Chivayo’s presence in the motorcade is not just symbolic—it shows how deeply embedded elite looting and state capture have become,” said one political analyst.
“He is no longer just a businessman; he is the poster child of impunity.”
Despite facing multiple charges over the years—including money laundering and abuse of office—Chivayo’s star has only risen.
He flaunts his opulence across social media: luxury vehicles, designer outfits, and cash handouts, all while the average Zimbabwean endures soaring inflation, decaying public services, and mass unemployment.
His latest appearance at ZITF, surrounded by foreign dignitaries and business leaders, sends a dangerous message about the type of business climate Zimbabwe is promoting.
To many citizens, it reinforces a bleak reality: in today’s Zimbabwe, loyalty to power—not competence, not ethics—is the only currency that matters.
Chivayo’s unchecked rise under Mnangagwa has become more than a scandal.
It is now a symbol of a broken system—one where corruption is not merely overlooked but rewarded, and where public institutions are routinely sacrificed at the altar of political expediency.