Last year, I spent 73 days in pre-trial detention for another man’s speech at a press conference I did not even attend.
This is what repression looks like in Zimbabwe today. In the past, it was violence on the streets, abductions, and forced disappearances. Now it is violence committed using the legal system, I call it, “lawfare.”
As a journalist of 25 years, I have reported on Zimbabwe’s democratic regression into a sophisticated authoritarian state.
It was not always like this.
Growing up, I idolized the president. My dad was a military veteran. He fought in the war of liberation to liberate our country from colonial rule and was a proud member of Zanu PF, so are some of his brothers today.
We lived comfortably, as he was a soldier at that time. But then, when I was in high school, he got sick. He needed medication but our government hospitals didn’t have any.
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For six months, I watched him deteriorate. And when he died, I started asking questions: like why was our life such a mess? Hadn’t my father fought for our country? And did we not have enough mineral resources and taxes to provide for the sick – especially when government top officials drive top of the range vehicles, drink expensive whiskey and dine in top hotels at our expenses and on our taxes?
Ladies and gentlemen, once you start asking those questions, you cannot unask them. And I could not unsee the corruption of a government that treats public interest journalism as a security threat.
So I became a fearless journalist, reporting on stories others dared not touch. I became the face of unmolested truth in journalism. The face of HSTV as host of the talkshow, FreeTalk.
We gave dissenting voices a platform, tackled corruption, and we ultimately broke the government’s monopoly in broadcast television. So perhaps it is no surprise that I was deemed a political threat.
In February 2025, police came to my office with guns to arrest me, but I was in Zambia working on a documentary. So the police posted a statement on X asking for the public’s help in my arrest.
My family, friends and colleagues all advised me not to return to Zimbabwe but instead to lie low in South Africa until the situation cooled down.
Like them, I knew what might happen. The State has been very consistent on how it plays its hand – they arrest opponents, punish them through pre- trial detention, and release them months later. You might be acquitted but by then, you would have been punished.
That’s what they did to opposition leader Job Sikhala and Journalist Hopewell Chin’ono, who spent 2 years and 80 days in prison respectively.
Neither was found guilty, but both were made to wait in prison. I knew this could be my fate too, but me being me, I decided to go home. With hindsight today, the horror and the hell that I faced in Zimbabwe’s prisons, I wished I had taken the advice.
When I arrived from Zambia, the regime arrested me & charged me with transmitting messages likely to incite violence. But here’s the thing – I did not say these words, (they were) broadcast on HSTV, my employer from an event organized by war veterans.
The alleged violent “messages” were spoken by late Zanu PF central committee member Blessed Geza who unfortunately died last week in exile, evading arrest from his former colleagues who run the country today. May His Soul Rest In Peace.
The state charged me and denied bail three times – in total violation of our constitution. I know that because currently I am a second year law student.
So I knew this had nothing to do with the law – it was purely political. The state deliberately misled the court, presenting redacted transcripts from the press conference, manipulated to make the speaker sound violent. It was clear They would do whatever it took to keep me locked and it did not matter what my lawyers pleaded before the courts.
I spent 73 days in pre-trial detention. Prison my friends is a place you never should go, it is a dark place, it taints the soul and clouds one’s judgment, for when in pain, alone in an overcrowded cell and closed out of the world, things are never the same.
Their aim was to break me by exposing me to pain, intimidation and food not even fit for dogs to eat. My health deteriorated and I suffered from a violent bout of cough, which refuses to go away to this day.
But I refused to let this kill me, and through my pen and paper and my lawyers Chris Mhike and Doug Coltart, I kept journalism alive.
Telling the world what life was like from inside this lice-infested prison, where no warmth exists. From the moment I was put behind the walls, I lost my rights, my dignity, and even at times my sanity.
Although some prison guards treated me with some respect the same is not true for other inmates, who were dehumanized and abused.
At times, I am in tears when I remember those painful three months of my life.
During my time there I learned that this regime is NOT as strong as it seems. There are not that many party loyalists – just many desperate people who need the money to feed their families.
After 73 days, I was finally released on bail on May 7, 2025. But without immense international pressure and solidarity my story could have been different. The UK House of Lords debated my detention.
Diplomats from Europe and America requested to visit me in prison. And just days before those visits could happen, I was released. I am ever grateful. And I want to encourage you all to stand in solidarity with human rights defenders. It is the backbone of what I do.
Even though I was released, I am not free. But my release did not mean freedom. Every week, I had to report to the police station.
My passport held for almost a year, only to be released this January after my employer offered collateral, worth $200, 000. If I don’t return to Zimbabwe, the headquarters of Alpha Media Holdings, my employer, one of the last standing homes of unmolested truth and free speech will be auctioned off by the State.
I have not been able to travel, nor earn my keep through journalism. The trial has drained us financially. I’ve been struggling to pay my children’s school fees and now, my eldest daughter, Lorraine, who should be in university with her friends is instead at home because we cannot afford even the basics.
This is how the state is working now. They hit your pockets. They punish everyone you love, and they torment you mentally.
For a year now, they keep delaying my trial for ridiculous reasons — one week it’s the magistrate who is sick, the next, a witness is unavailable, and the other week the docket is missing.
My file is even classified as a security file – journalism is a security threat in Zimbabwe.
So here is the angle – the story other journalists are too scared to report on – Zimbabwe is not a democracy. Is is a sophisticated …
They don’t need to beat up critics in the street. Because they’ve learned to use the law as a weapon. They silence opponents and terrorize citizens, not through overt violence, but through a captured judiciary.
Just last week, the government proposed new changes to the constitution, the major one being to increase the presidential term from 5 years to seven years and to allow a president to solely appoint judges directly.
These changes consolidate power into one person, kill judicial independence and further intensifying lawfare.
For a President who promised to stick to the constitution and respect human rights, this attempt opens a very very dark door which once opened is not…
This must scare the World into action. Because my friends, when repression hides behind law and sovereignty, the poor suffer and flee from their home countries as refugees creating international crisis.
They come into your homes as illegal immigrants. And we all know what is happening around the world with illegal immigrants.
For that not to happen, silence is not an option…
It is only when we stand up and expert diplomatic pressure on these regime
The world can pretend that Zimbabwe is democratizing. But that is a lie. The worst is yet to come.
Thank you.
Mhlanga was soaking at the 18th Annual Geneva Summit for Human Rights and Democracy, U.N. Opening, Tuesday, February 17, 2026