President Emmerson Mnangagwa has once again shown that in Zimbabwe, power is protected not by popularity or performance, but by military loyalty. His latest move — extending the term of General Philip Valerio Sibanda, the Commander of the Zimbabwe Defence Forces — is not just a military decision. It is a desperate political strategy to hold onto power and suppress growing threats from within his own party.

The official announcement, made by Chief Secretary to the President and Cabinet Martin Rushwaya, confirmed that Sibanda’s appointment has been extended for another year, from December 2024 to November 2025. While the language used was technical and legal, the real meaning behind this decision is deeply political. Mnangagwa is feeling the heat, and Sibanda is now his shield.

Since the 2017 military coup that removed Robert Mugabe, Mnangagwa has relied on the military to stay in control. And no figure has been more important in that equation than Sibanda. He stood by Mnangagwa during the 2019 coup scare while the president was abroad. Without Sibanda’s loyalty, Mnangagwa could have been overthrown right then. This extension is Mnangagwa’s way of repaying — and securing — that loyalty.

But this move does not come from a position of strength. It is a sign of fear. Mnangagwa is locked in a dangerous and growing power struggle with his deputy, Constantino Chiwenga. Chiwenga, a former army general himself, still has strong allies within the military and the ruling ZANU PF party. His faction is growing louder, more confident, and more determined to take over.

By keeping Sibanda close, Mnangagwa is trying to block Chiwenga’s path to power. He knows that if the military shifts its loyalty, he is finished. That’s why this extension matters so much. It’s not about national security — it’s about personal survival.

There’s another layer to this power play. Mnangagwa has not given up on his dream of staying in power until 2030, despite constitutional limits. His second term legally ends in 2028, but plans for a third term have already been floated. Though he publicly denies it, his allies have pushed the “2030” narrative for months. Now, with that campaign facing opposition from the military and party veterans, Mnangagwa is clinging even tighter to trusted allies like Sibanda.

But this strategy also exposes how weak and fragile Mnangagwa’s leadership truly is. He is not confident in the people. He is not confident in the constitution. He is only confident in the army — or at least in the parts of the army still loyal to him. That’s a dangerous place for any president to be.

This extension may give him short-term relief, but it could also deepen tensions within the system. Chiwenga and his supporters are watching closely. Every move Mnangagwa makes is now a direct challenge to them. This could push them to act faster, with more force. And the closer we get to 2028, the higher the risk of political explosions.

The real tragedy is that while Mnangagwa and Chiwenga fight for power, ordinary Zimbabweans are left behind. Hospitals are collapsing. Schools are broken. Jobs are disappearing. Inflation is rising. Yet all the focus is on who controls the military and who gets to sit in State House. The people are paying the price for a leadership obsessed with power, not progress.

By extending Sibanda’s term, Mnangagwa may think he’s buying time. But history in Zimbabwe has shown that time runs out quickly when the military turns. If Chiwenga and his allies decide that Mnangagwa is no longer useful, even Sibanda may not be able to save him.

For now, Mnangagwa has made his move. He is preparing for battle. But the cracks in ZANU PF are getting wider, and the countdown to 2028 — or perhaps an earlier showdown — has already begun.