The Zimbabwe Broadcasting Corporation (ZBC), the country’s main public broadcaster, has now become the latest victim of Zanu PF’s ongoing assault on media freedom. The appointment of Charles Mungasa, a top member of the Zanu PF Youth League, as acting chief executive, is more than just another political favour—it is a loud declaration that state media is no longer for the people, but for the party.

Mungasa is not new to ZBC. He sat on its board and is a well-known political loyalist, serving as the Zanu PF Masvingo provincial Youth League secretary for administration. His rise to the top of ZBC is not based on journalistic merit or management expertise, but on party allegiance. His appointment further deepens the political grip Zanu PF already holds over the media, especially given that ZBC board chairperson Helliate Rushwaya is President Mnangagwa’s own niece.

This takeover didn’t happen overnight. The top seat at ZBC has seen a revolving door of handpicked insiders. Mungasa replaces Assael Machakata, who himself stepped in after Adelaide Chikunguru was pushed out. With every change, the message has remained the same: ZBC is a party tool, not a public service.

This is what media capture looks like—when a state broadcaster becomes an echo chamber for the ruling elite, silencing critical voices and choking democracy. The control Zanu PF now exercises over ZBC is not only through appointments, but through laws, funding, and intimidation. They regulate the media, starve independent outlets of advertising, and fill leadership positions with loyalists. This ensures that what the people hear and see is filtered through a thick cloud of propaganda.

The idea of a public broadcaster is simple: inform the people, hold power to account, and act as a mirror of society. But ZBC has become the exact opposite. Instead of asking hard questions and uncovering the truth, it reads out party lines and attacks opposition voices. Instead of exposing corruption and injustice, it protects those in power and buries uncomfortable stories.

This has real consequences. In a country like Zimbabwe, where many people rely on state media for news, the damage is severe. If ZBC only tells one side of the story—Zanu PF’s side—then the people are being lied to by the very institution that is supposed to inform them. This weakens public trust, fuels misinformation, and kills any hope of transparency in government.

The rise of Charles Mungasa is a perfect example of how far we’ve fallen. Instead of separating journalism from politics, the ruling party is merging them together. Under his leadership, ZBC will not become more independent—it will become more obedient. Editorial decisions will be made based on political orders, not public interest. News bulletins will continue to promote party events, smear opposition leaders, and ignore the real suffering of Zimbabweans.

But Zimbabweans are not blind. They can see through the smoke and mirrors. Social media, diaspora platforms, and online outlets continue to challenge the false narratives pushed by ZBC. Yet, many citizens in rural areas still depend on ZBC for information. For them, this media capture is more than just a political problem—it is a direct threat to their right to know the truth.

This latest development is a call to action for everyone who cares about media freedom, democracy, and human rights in Zimbabwe. The takeover of ZBC must not be accepted as normal. It must be challenged in Parliament, exposed in the press, and condemned by civil society.

In a free society, the media watches over the powerful. In Zimbabwe, the powerful have taken over the media. And until that changes, the dream of an informed, empowered, and free people will remain out of reach.