I RECENTLY read about Transparency International Zimbabwe's latest findings, which have put Zimbabwe back in the global spotlight for all the wrong reasons.
Scoring a mere 21 out of 100 on the 2025 Corruption Perceptions Index (CPI) and ranking 158th out of 180 countries, Zimbabwe remains among the world’s most corrupt nations.
According to the report, corruption is “worsening globally,” and Zimbabwe’s continued poor performance “reflects weak oversight mechanisms, limited transparency and ongoing diversion of public resources.”
For the ordinary Zimbabwean, this ranking is not just a number, it is a mirror reflecting our collective failure as a nation to uphold the values of integrity, fairness and accountability.
The issue of corruption in Zimbabwe cannot be viewed solely as a government problem.
It is a societal disease that has penetrated deeply into the moral fabric of our homes, schools, workplaces and communities.
When we speak of corruption, we often think of top government officials embezzling public funds, but corruption manifests in everyday actions that we often overlook.
It is seen in the father who bribes a police officer to avoid a fine, in the mother who manipulates systems for personal gain, and in the child who grows up witnessing unethical behaviour being rewarded rather than condemned.
- More woes for suspended Cottco boss
- News in depth: Zimbabweans choke under weight of worsening service delivery failures
- Former MDC MP in trouble for insulting police
- Antipas scoops monthly PSL awards
Keep Reading
These small acts, replicated countless times across the country, breed a culture where dishonesty becomes normalised and moral decay entrenched.
Consider the simple yet profound example of a father driving an unroadworthy car with his young son as a passenger. When he disobeys traffic rules and is stopped by the police, instead of facing the lawful consequences, he offers a bribe in full view of his child.
The immediate effect may seem trivial; he escapes a fine or the vehicle being impounded. But the long-term damage is immense.
That child has been given a silent lesson: that justice and integrity can be bought, that laws can be bent with money, and that ethics are optional.
The next generation, having witnessed this, grows up internalising corruption as a norm rather than a moral violation. This is how a corrupt society reproduces itself — within our homes, before it even reaches the statehouse.
The recent incident involving a South African tourist, who was fined US$30 at a roadblock in Chipinge, has sparked allegations that officers acted corruptly when he was found with three emergency triangles instead of four. His decision to publicise the encounter online not only exposed the corrupt conduct of officers, but also damaged Zimbabwe’s international image.
As the tourist explained, such experiences tarnish the country’s reputation and discourage tourism — a vital pillar of our economy. Tourism and Hospitality Industry minister Barbara Rwodzi acted swiftly by apologising and promising accountability, while the Zimbabwe Republic Police (ZRP) vowed to take disciplinary action. National police spokesperson Commissioner Paul Nyathi rightly emphasised that the police “do not condone unprofessional conduct” and that corrective measures would be taken.
However, this incident serves as more than just a single case of misconduct — it is symbolic of a broader moral crisis that Zimbabwe must confront if it wishes to rebuild global trust.
Corruption in Zimbabwe extends far beyond the police or public institutions—it has become a way of life. It undermines our development goals, cripples service delivery and erodes faith in national institutions.
The Zimbabwe Anti-Corruption Commission (Zacc), although constitutionally mandated to fight corruption, has often been accused of targeting minor offenders while leaving influential figures untouched.
The 2025 CPI report notes that corruption in the management of public resources “remains pervasive, undermining political integrity, weakening accountability systems, and restricting citizens’ access to essential public services such as health, education, and social protection.”
These systemic failures represent not only administrative inefficiency but also moral bankruptcy—a condition that cannot be cured by policy reforms alone, but requires a transformation of our national conscience. Real change begins when all citizens, regardless of social status or occupation, commit to personal and collective integrity.
The fight against corruption cannot be outsourced to government commissions or political leaders alone.
Every parent must act as a moral mentor, every teacher as a guardian of ethical learning, every religious leader as a voice of moral awakening.
Education systems must integrate ethics and civic responsibility from early childhood.
Our schools should not only produce brilliant minds but also upright souls. As a nation, we are producing graduates with academic excellence but deficient ethical grounding — intelligent minds capable of innovation but morally inclined toward personal gain and self-interest.
Education should, therefore, train both the mind and the soul. A highly educated, corrupt individual does not build a nation; he destroys it with sophistication.
Practical ethics education must be introduced into school curricula from the earliest grades, using relatable scenarios such as the father bribing a police officer.
Students should debate whether such actions are ethical, analysing the short and long-term consequences of corruption.
Lessons should extend beyond theory into real-life applications, teaching concepts such as conflict of interest, procurement ethics, transparency, and accountability. Ministries of Primary and Secondary Education and Higher and Tertiary Education must reform the teaching approach to ensure that ethical behaviour becomes not just a topic but a behavioural standard.
Our universities and colleges should not only confer degrees, but also affirm character. Ethical training must become a requirement for leadership, regardless of one’s academic discipline.
Families, as the primary social institutions, must reclaim their moral responsibility. Children learn more by observation than by instruction; thus, parents must model the integrity they wish to see in their offspring.
As fathers, our behaviour teaches our sons how to act as future men and leaders. As mothers, our conduct teaches our daughters the meaning of dignity and respect.
When parents lead by example, we produce a generation that values honesty over shortcuts, effort over manipulation, and integrity over wealth gained by deceit.
Churches and religious institutions must reinforce these values, not by mere preaching, but through community engagement and practical demonstration. Spiritual leaders must embody moral courage and denounce corrupt behaviour within and outside their congregations.
Rebuilding Zimbabwe’s moral foundation requires a nationwide commitment to integrity. Policymakers must ensure greater transparency in public procurement and resource management. Institutions tasked with oversight must be independent, well-resourced and protected from political interference.
The government must enforce accountability consistently, ensuring that no individual — no matter how influential — is above the law.
Local communities should establish integrity committees to promote ethical behaviour at the grassroots levels. Media and civil society organisations must continue to expose corruption fearlessly while promoting ethical awareness.
Lastly, society must stop celebrating ill-gotten wealth. The glorification of individuals who accumulate riches through dishonest means corrodes the moral fibre of our nation. When citizens admire and reward corruption, they normalise it.
We must instead celebrate virtue, hard work and honesty as national ideals. We should admire the teacher who endures adversity with integrity more than the wealthy businessman whose fortune is built on exploitation.
The president’s repeated calls for citizens to “shun corrupt tendencies” will only bear fruit when these values resonate in every heart and every home.
If Zimbabwe is to rise again, it must begin by confronting the moral decay within its own soul.
Corruption is not inevitable — it is a choice, repeated daily in households, schools, offices and institutions across the nation.
Our global reputation, national development and social cohesion depend on how we respond to this challenge.
The road to a corruption-free Zimbabwe begins not in Parliament or the courts, but in the conscience of every citizen.
Only when integrity becomes our collective creed can we rebuild the image of our beloved nation and secure a future worthy of our children.




