They called him Madzibaba VeShanduko the Father of Change. It was a name he earned not through politics, but through persistence. A man who wore yellow when yellow was forbidden. A father whose teenage son was cut by glass while rescuing younger siblings from a petrol bomb thrown at their home in the night. A citizen who printed flyers inviting fellow Zimbabweans to march against corruption, and for that act perfectly legal in any functioning democracy he was hunted, abducted, tortured, imprisoned, and denied medical care until his body began to shut down.
As of February 11, 2026, Godfrey Karembera is still not a free man. The search results available to me contain no announcement of his release. But his story deserves to be told regardless, because it is not only his story. It is the story of every Zimbabwean who has ever been told that speaking truth to power is a crime. It is the story of a system that arrests first and finds reasons later.
And it is the story of a man who committed no crime yet paid for his innocence with his freedom and his health.
Who is Madzibaba VeShanduko?
Godfrey Karembera is a 47-year-old farmer and political activist from Guruve, a rural district in Mashonaland Central province. He is a supporter of Nelson Chamisa, the former leader of the Citizens Coalition for Change (CCC). But Karembera does not carry a gun or command an army. His weapons are far more dangerous to those in power: a yellow gown and the courage to wear it in public.
The name “Madzibaba VeShanduko” comes from that yellow gown. It resembles the robes worn by white-garment apostolic churches, where male congregants are addressed as “Madzibaba” fathers. But Karembera’s gown is not for worship. It is the colour of the opposition party, and in Zimbabwe, wearing that colour has, time and again, been treated as a provocation worthy of arrest.
In March 2022, Karembera was arrested in Harare’s central business district for wearing yellow and telling people to vote for Chamisa. Police beat him with baton sticks on his back and the soles of his feet. He suffered deep abrasions. He could barely walk. Lawyers from the Zimbabwe Lawyers for Human Rights documented his injuries. The charge was “disorderly conduct” .
He was also arrested for allegedly calling police officers “dogs.” The charge stuck. The trauma did too.
- News in depth: Fears of violent 2023 polls grow as ED fails to deliver on promises
- Chamisa party defiant after ban
- Letter to my people: Mthuli Ncube experiment has failed
- News in depth: Slain Moreblessing Ali’s family fears cover-up as children are forced into hiding
Keep Reading
The Night the Bombs Came
But the worst attack on Karembera did not come from the police or not directly. It came on a Monday night in April 2025, when he was not even at home.
Neighbours in Guruve South heard strange noises around midnight. They saw two top-of-the-range Toyota GD6 Double Cab vehicles arrive at Karembera’s homestead. Then came the explosions. Petrol bombs were thrown at the house.
Inside were three of Karembera’s children. His 17-year-old son, Laxmore, heard the first explosion and ran outside. He saw flames consuming part of the home. He ran back to wake his younger siblings. As they tried to escape, another petrol bomb was thrown toward them. The children fled into the darkness of the surrounding fields.
Laxmore suffered deep cuts on his neck and feet. Neighbours rushed him to Shinje Clinic, but the staff refused to treat him, saying his injuries were too severe. At Guruve District Hospital, health workers appeared “completely disinterested,” Karembera said. It was only after he called friends that his son was taken to a private facility.
No one has ever been arrested for the petrol bombing. The two vehicles and their occupants simply vanished into the night.
“We are not safe in our own homes, and yet we claim we are independent,” Karembera said at the time. “There is no freedom whatsoever. We are being traumatised day and night”.
The Flyers and the High-Speed Chase
Six months later, in October 2025, Karembera became a wanted man again.
This time, the charge was “incitement to participate in a public gathering with intent to cause public violence”. What had he done? He had printed and distributed flyers.
The flyers advertised a protest called the “One Million Man March,” scheduled for October 17, 2025, at Africa Unity Square and Robert Mugabe Square in Harare. The protest was organised by Blessed Geza, a war veteran who had posted videos on YouTube accusing President Emmerson Mnangagwa of corruption and looting. The flyers bore messages that are not, in any genuine democracy, illegal: “Stop the looting.” “Zimbabwe is not for sale.” “One million men march.” “7 billion reasons to march”.
Police said they received a tip-off about a silver Toyota Aqua distributing flyers in the suburbs of Machipisa, Glen View, and Budiriro. They intercepted the vehicle along Patrenda Way in Glen View 3. Inside, they allegedly found 7,200 flyers.
Karembera and two others fled on foot. One accomplice, Malvern Mavhere, was caught and remanded in custody. Karembera escaped temporarily.
The police launched a manhunt. National police spokesperson Commissioner Paul Nyathi issued a public appeal for information leading to Karembera’s arrest. The activist was described as having fled during a “high-speed chase”.
But according to sources, the reality was far darker. When Karembera was finally apprehended, it was not the result of a dramatic pursuit. It was, reportedly, an abduction. He was taken from his home, tortured, and then dumped at a police station to be formally charged.
A Prisoner Without a Crime
What crime did Godfrey Karembera commit? The Constitution of Zimbabwe guarantees the right to freedom of assembly and association. It guarantees the right to freedom of expression. Distributing flyers about a peaceful protest is not incitement to violence. It is political speech—the very heart of what democracy protects.
But Zimbabwe’s courts have become adept at treating political speech as criminal. Magistrate Tapiwa Kuhudzai dismissed Karembera’s application challenging his placement on remand, ruling that the State had presented “reasonable suspicion” to justify his detention. The 7,200 flyers were entered as exhibits. The bail hearing was postponed, then postponed again.
On February 10, 2026, just one day before this article was written a magistrate in Harare recused herself from Karembera’s bail application after his lawyer argued that the defence had “lost confidence in the impartiality of the court”. The case was reassigned to Magistrate Tapiwa Kuhudzai, the same judicial officer who had earlier denied his challenge to remand. A new bail hearing is scheduled for February 13.
As of today, February 11, 2026, Godfrey Karembera remains in custody.
“He Cannot Urinate at All”
The true measure of Zimbabwe’s justice system can be found not in courtroom rulings, but in what has happened to Karembera’s body while in state custody.
While detained, his health deteriorated rapidly. Initially, he struggled to urinate naturally a common consequence of beatings to the kidneys and lower back. Then, prison sources reported, he could not urinate at all. Medical officers recommended specialised treatment. Prison authorities refused to allow him to seek private medical care.
“He is visibly weak and in pain,” a prison source told reporters.
Human rights lawyers condemned the denial of medical care as “inhumane and unconstitutional.” One warned that the State would “bear full responsibility if anything happens to him”.
The message from the authorities was clear: you do not get to criticise the government and receive medical treatment. You do not get to distribute flyers and keep your health. You do not get to be Madzibaba VeShanduko and be treated as a human being entitled to the most basic care.
A Pattern, Not an Accident
Some might look at Godfrey Karembera’s story and see a series of unfortunate events: an arrest here, an attack there, a denial of bail, a bureaucratic refusal of medical care. But Zimbabweans know better. This is not a collection of accidents. It is a pattern.
In 2022, Karembera was arrested for wearing yellow. In 2025, his home was petrol-bombed. Later that year, he was abducted and tortured. Then he was denied bail. Then he was denied medical care while his kidneys failed. Each incident, viewed alone, might be explained away. Viewed together, they reveal the systematic targeting of a man whose only crime is his refusal to be silent.
The charge sheet says Karembera incited public violence. But where is the violence? The flyers called for a march. The video he recorded urged citizens to gather at Africa Unity Square. These are acts of peaceful advocacy. The State has presented no evidence that Karembera called for property destruction, bodily harm, or any form of unlawful conduct. The “violence” in this case exists only in the charge itself a label applied to make peaceful protest punishable by imprisonment.
Why His Release Matters
The release of Godfrey Karembera would not be an act of mercy. It would be an act of justice long overdue. It would be an acknowledgement that printing flyers is not a crime. That wearing yellow is not a crime. That calling for accountability from elected leaders is not a crime, but a right.
Until the State can prove with evidence, not allegations that Karembera committed an actual offence, his continued detention is nothing more than punishment for speech. It is the imprisonment of a man for the content of his words and the colour of his clothes.
Zimbabwe’s leaders speak often of sovereignty and independence. They speak of throwing off foreign interference and charting their own path. But what kind of sovereignty is it that fears a man in a yellow gown? What kind of independence imprisons a farmer for asking where seven billion dollars have gone?
A Father of Change, Still Waiting
On the night of the petrol bombing, Laxmore Karembera ran through flames to save his younger siblings. He was 17 years old. His father was not there to protect him Godfrey was elsewhere, already marked, already hunted. The son became the protector.
Now the son waits, along with the rest of his family, for his father to come home. He waits for a justice system to recognise what has been obvious from the beginning: that Godfrey Karembera, Madzibaba VeShanduko, committed no crime.
The bail hearing is scheduled for February 13. Another magistrate will preside. Another ruling will be made. Perhaps this time, the court will see what the world already sees: a political prisoner held without valid cause, a body broken by torture and denied healing, a father separated from children who have already suffered too much.
Perhaps this time, Madzibaba VeShanduko will walk free.
But even if he does, the question will remain: why did it take so long? Why was he ever arrested? Why was he tortured? Why was he denied medicine? Why does Zimbabwe still treat its most courageous citizens as enemies of the state?
Godfrey Karembera did not commit a crime. He printed flyers. He wore yellow. He refused to be silent.
In Zimbabwe, that is enough to land you in prison. It should not be. It must not be.
- Josephine Sipiwe Jenje-Mudimbu is a Zimbabwean based in the Diaspora. She writes in her personal capacity.
