The recent release of Namatai Kwekweza, Robson Chere, and Samuel Gwenzi is a small step forward in a country where standing up for democracy often comes with a heavy price. These three brave activists were arrested at the airport on 31 July 2024 while heading to Victoria Falls for the African Philanthropy Conference. What should have been a peaceful journey turned into a nightmare when police dragged them off the plane and locked them up.

The reason given? The police claimed they were planning public disorder. But let’s be honest—this is not about law and order. It is about silencing voices of truth. These activists were not carrying weapons. They were not calling for violence. They were traveling to a conference to discuss ways to build a better future. And for that, they were treated like dangerous criminals.

Robson Chere’s case is especially heartbreaking. Reports say he was tortured while in custody. He was beaten so badly that his life was in danger. He was denied medical care, left to suffer while the police pretended everything was normal. This is not justice. This is cruelty. This is the face of a regime that fears its own people.

Let us not forget that all of this happened just as the SADC summit was taking place in Harare. The regime wanted to show the world a clean image. Behind closed doors, it was doing the opposite—cracking down on anyone who dared to speak, to organize, to hope. This is not just about three activists. It is part of a bigger war on civil society in Zimbabwe.

Groups that work for democracy, human rights, and justice are under attack. The government is using old colonial laws to silence them. These are laws designed to keep people quiet, laws meant to stop freedom before it can grow. And today, in 2024, these same laws are being used by a so-called independent Zimbabwe to crush its own citizens.

Thanks to the hard work of the Zimbabwe Lawyers for Human Rights, Kwekweza, Chere, and Gwenzi are now out on bail. But this is not freedom. Their bail comes with harsh conditions. They must report to the police every month, they must not move from their homes without permission, and they cannot speak freely. The state is still holding them by the neck, using fear as a chain.

These conditions are not about justice. They are about control. The regime wants to scare other activists into silence. It wants people to believe that fighting for democracy is too dangerous. But Zimbabweans are not blind. They see what is happening. They know that these young leaders are not criminals—they are heroes.

Namatai Kwekweza has long been a fearless voice for youth and women. Robson Chere has stood up for workers and for education. Samuel Gwenzi has worked for justice and truth. They are not trying to break Zimbabwe. They are trying to fix it. They are trying to give ordinary people a voice.

But what kind of country arrests people for wanting a better future? What kind of government fears a peaceful conference? What kind of leader allows torture in police cells and still claims to believe in democracy?

Zimbabwe is in trouble, not because of activists, but because of a regime that fears change. It fears questions. It fears ideas. And it fears young people like Kwekweza, Chere, and Gwenzi who will not back down.

As their trial continues, we must keep our eyes on the courts. We must raise our voices, just as they have. Because if they are silenced, then who will speak for the rest of us? If they are punished, then what hope is left for a free Zimbabwe?

The battle for democracy is not over. The regime is watching, but so are we. The world is watching. The people are watching. And we will not be silent. Not today. Not ever.