IT was not long ago that Zimbabweans took genuine pride in the quality of their work.
Many still say, with some justification, that Zimbabweans display admirable work ethic at home, in the region and across the diaspora.
We once attributed this reputation to our culture and to an education system that did more than impart knowledge; it shaped character.
Workers showed up on time, shoes polished, shirts pressed, looking sharp and radiating discipline.
People put effort into their work because they were proud of what they were doing.
They took satisfaction in being able to say “I built that; I fixed that; I taught that child”.
Staff were reliable and conscientious.
Employees had a can-do attitude and routinely went beyond the call of duty.
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The sweeper swept with purpose.
The toilet cleaner scrubbed with dignity.
The general hand approached each task as unto God.
Supervisors were largely superfluous because excellence was self-enforced.
Loyalty to the employer and to colleagues was woven into the very fabric of workplace culture.
Those days feel uncomfortably distant.
Today, many business leaders, managers and workers appear to operate grudgingly, eyes on the clock, hearts elsewhere.
Clients are treated as interruptions to one's relationship with a mobile phone.
Leaders and managers seem more preoccupied with getting paid than with the quality of service their organisations deliver.
Excellence has become an afterthought.
Mediocrity is no longer an exception; it is the norm.
What happened?
Over the past three decades, gradual but relentless reverse social engineering has taken place, eroding the values we once held dear.
Responsibility, respect, hard work, honesty, integrity and gratitude have been displaced by laziness, greed, entitlement, arrogance and corruption.
This poisoning of our national psyche is inseparable from economic collapse and prolonged political dysfunction.
A tough economic environment has given rise to a political elite that has debased social norms and corrupted the very idea of achievement.
Much of society, including the business sector, has mirrored this behaviour, modelling the worst possible example for young people who know no alternative and assume this is simply how the world works.
Luxurious lifestyles built on ill-gotten wealth have taught us the wrong lessons.
Why study, why work hard to build quality products, services and brands, when the soft life appears attainable through shortcuts?
Why sweat when you can scheme?
Trinkets, flashy cars, designer clothes and holidays in Dubai have taken centre stage, displacing discipline, patience and craft.
Quality local products and services have become rare, almost quaint.
Fake PhDs and purchased awards are no longer whispered scandals; they are paraded and celebrated.
These hollow credentials occupy pride of place on CVs and office walls.
Too many people are desperate to get ahead without doing anything meaningful, without building anything that endures.
This collapse of standards is visible everywhere.
We see it in how casually we litter our streets and in the reckless, dangerous driving that has become commonplace on our roads.
These are not isolated acts of indiscipline.
They are reflections of the state of our minds, symptoms of a deeper erosion of our collective conscience.
The scale of the crisis becomes even clearer when we look at the structure of our economy.
According to the Zimbabwe National Statistics Agency, 86,4% of employed persons now work in the informal sector.
More than eight out of every 10 working Zimbabweans operate outside formal structures.
This is not merely an economic statistic; it is a crisis of productivity, professionalism and standards.
An entire generation of workers and entrepreneurs is growing up without exposure to professional workplace norms.
Efficiency, accountability, respect, politeness and prioritising the client have become foreign concepts in an informalised economy.
Only one in five informal operators earns enough to rise above the poverty line.
We have built an economy of survival, not excellence; an economy of hustle, not mastery.
With one of the world’s largest informal economies, second only to Afghanistan, Zimbabwe stands at a crossroads.
What began as a coping mechanism during economic collapse has metastasised into a culture that celebrates shortcuts and treats standards as an inconvenience.
And yet, all is not lost.
We are travelling in the wrong direction at alarming speed and the distance back grows longer by the day, but a course correction remains possible.
Those who care about building an empathetic, productive and dignified society must commit to a beautiful revolution: a deliberate return to professionalism, hard work, love, self-control, gratitude, empathy, kindness and honesty in our homes, streets, offices and boardrooms.
This is heavy-lifting nation-building work.
It is not glamorous and it offers no quick wins.
But the current trajectory is unsustainable, and without intervention, we risk becoming prisoners of our worst selves.
The better angels within us must fight for space to shine, restoring discipline, honesty, care and collective responsibility.
This work starts with each of us.
It begins with changing ourselves and, in turn, influencing our homes, neighbourhoods, schools, offices and boardrooms.
The renewal we need is largely an inside-out transformation of mindset, values and national character.
Families, schools and Bible-based churches, not politicians, must lead this revolution.
Parents must model the discipline they wish to see, not merely preach it.
Teachers must refuse to lower standards, even under pressure.
Business leaders must choose excellence over expediency, even when it costs them.
Church leaders must preach integrity without apology or qualification.
We also need a fundamental rethink of skills development and professional formation.
Quality vocational training must become a national priority.
Structured and intentional mentorship is essential, mentorship that transfers not only skills but character, not only knowledge but values.
This renewal will fail without the return of our grey-haired men and women.
Zimbabwe needs its retired professionals to step back into the arena and lend a hand.
Their wisdom, experience and old-fashioned values once made our professions respected, and they are needed again.
We must learn to celebrate those who show up on time, deliver quality work, serve clients with pride and refuse to cut corners.
We must stop applauding fraud.
Fake qualifications and purchased awards should be publicly shamed, not admired.
Littering and reckless driving should be socially unacceptable.
Professional standards must be rebuilt patiently, one workplace, one transaction, one day at a time.
The Zimbabwe we desire will not materialise out of thin air.
It is forged through daily discipline and an uncompromising pursuit of excellence.
It is built by people who care more about legacy than luxury, more about substance than spectacle.
Trevor Ncube is the founder of trevorandassociates.com and Chairman of AMH. He is also the anchor of YouTube.com//InConversationWithTrevor.
