On what should have been a day of new beginnings for the school children, a diesel-powered symbol of traditional authority sat parked defiantly across the road to school.
Chief Murinye used his own truck to physically block access to the newly constructed Riverton Academy Extension, ordering bewildered parents to turn their children back home.
The reason? Businessman Philimon Mutangiri had built the boarding school without first seeking the blessing of the area's customary leader.
This dramatic standoff, far from being an isolated local dispute, reveals a profound and recurring fault line in modern Africa: the critical, often overlooked, need for a social licence to operate.
In the shadow of this blocked road lies a question that echoes across the continent: What happens when investment, development, and education—forces of undeniable progress—collide with the deep-rooted systems of customary authority and communal consent that have governed African societies for centuries?
The answer determines not just the fate of a single school, but the blueprint for sustainable development itself.
At first glance, the conflict appears transactional. Mutangiri claims he has "gone above and beyond," citing tangible contributions like electrifying the chief's homestead and purchasing a US$7000 transformer as forms of engagement.
For Murinye, however, the issue is fundamentally non-transactional. It is about protocol, recognition, and sovereignty over the land and community he stewards.
The chief's action was not merely a veto; it was a powerful, physical assertion that customary authority remains the primary gateway through, which any enterprise must pass to gain legitimacy in the communal psyche.
This clash exposes the limitations of a purely economic or bureaucratic understanding of development.
Mutangiri may have secured the necessary permits from formal state institutions, but he failed to secure the essential ingredient for long-term success: the communal buy-in mediated by traditional leadership.
In doing so, he violated an unwritten social contract, one that views the chief not as a mere stakeholder, but as the custodian of the community's past, present, and future.
The concept of a "social licence to operate" (SLO) provides the perfect lens to dissect this conflict.
Coined in the extractive industries but applicable everywhere, an SLO refers to the ongoing acceptance and approval of a project by a local community.
It exists independently of legal permits.
A company or investor can have every government document in perfect order yet completely lack this social permission, rendering their project vulnerable to disruption, protest, and ultimate failure.
In the African context, particularly in rural areas like Murinye, the pathway to obtaining this licence almost invariably runs through traditional authority structures.
Chiefs and village heads are not just figureheads; they are the living repositories of community history, the arbiters of cultural values, and the managers of communal trust.
Their endorsement translates a foreign project into a local endeavor; their opposition casts it as an invasive imposition. The blocked road in Murinye is the ultimate symbol of a revoked social licence.
History is littered with the wreckage of projects that secured legal licenses but fatally ignored the social one. Examining these cases underscores that Murinye's actions are part of a broader pattern of community assertion.
- The Niger Delta, Nigeria (1990s-present): International oil corporations like Shell operated for decades with full backing from the Nigerian federal government. However, their failure to meaningfully engage with the Ogoni and other communities, address environmental devastation, or share benefits equitably led to a catastrophic loss of social licence. The result was not a blocked road, but a region engulfed in sustained militancy, sabotage of pipelines, and kidnappings, costing billions and countless lives. The conflict stemmed from treating communities as passive territories rather than sovereign stakeholders.
- Platinum Mining in Mokopane, South Africa (2010s): Mining giant Anglo Platinum faced relentless community protests at its Mogalakwena mine. Despite its legal right to mine, the company was accused of land grabs, environmental damage, and ignoring local leadership.
Communities, feeling disenfranchised, erected barricades, staged sit-ins, and disrupted operations for years, demanding recognition and a fair share of benefits.
The conflict highlighted that even world-class corporate social responsibility (CSR) programs are ineffective if they bypass authentic community leadership and address symptoms, not the core demand for respect and partnership.
- Sugar Plantations in Kilombero, Tanzania (2000s): Large-scale foreign agribusinesses acquired vast tracts of land through deals with the central government, often sidelining the villagers who had used the land for generations.
The loss of farmland and water access without consent led to deep-seated resentment, legal battles, and sporadic violence.
These projects, while legally sound, failed because they treated the land as a vacant economic asset rather than a lifeline embedded in a social and ecological system.
These cases, from Nigeria to Tanzania, share a common thread: a top-down approach that privileges formal law over social legitimacy. They mistake silence for consent and legal paperwork for community approval. The cost of this mistake is measured in broken equipment, broken timelines, and broken trust.
The Riverton Academy conflict is particularly poignant because the commodity in question is education—universally valued and desperately needed.
This fact makes the standoff not a simple anti-development stance, but a fight over the terms of development. Is the school a philanthropic gift bestowed upon the community, or is it a partnership built with the community?
Murinye's blockade sends a clear message: the community must have agency in shaping the institutions that will mould its children.
It raises questions Mutangiri seemingly did not address: Will the school's curriculum respect local history and values?
Will it employ locals? Will its fee structure be accessible?
By bypassing the chief, the businessman skipped the very forum where these questions are negotiated.
The path forward for Riverton Academy, and for countless future projects, requires a fundamental shift in mindset. Investors and developers must move beyond transactional engagement (the transformer-for-permission model) and toward relational partnership.
This process is not a box-ticking exercise; it is a continuous dialogue.
- Early and inclusive consultation: Engagement must begin at the concept stage, not after groundbreaking. This means formally presenting plans to the chief and village assemblies, listening to concerns, and adapting designs accordingly.
- Recognising dual governance: Successful operators navigate both the formal state bureaucracy and the customary authority system. They understand that each grants a different type of licence, and both are essential.
- Building shared value: Benefits must be transparent, mutually agreed upon, and managed with community input. This goes beyond CSR handouts to creating joint ventures, local procurement policies, and community trusts with real governance power.
- Ceding control, gaining trust: This is the hardest step. It involves accepting the community and its leaders as genuine co-creators, even if it means slower timelines and shared decision-making authority.
The school road in Murinye “remains blocked”, but the opportunity is not lost.
This moment of conflict can be transformed into a powerful lesson—one taught not in a classroom, but through the process of building one.
It is a lesson in humility, respect, and the understanding that in Africa, the most durable foundations for the future are poured not just with cement, but with consent.
The real award—sustainable peace and progress—awaits those who learn it.
* Sharon Dzingai is a social scientist. She can be contacted at shdzingai23@gmail.com.
These weekly articles are coordinated by Lovemore Kadenge, an independent consultant, managing consultant of Zawale Consultants (Private) Limited, past president of the Zimbabwe Economics Society and past president of the Chartered Governance & Accountancy Institute in Zimbabwe . Email =kadenge.zes@gmail.com or Mobile No. +263 772 382 852