President Emmerson Dambudzo Mnangagwa’s spokesperson George Charamba (pictured) recently lamented how the ZANU PF online foot-soldiers (Varakashi) have lost track.

Charamba one of the masterminds behind the group said the foot-soldiers went off track as they push selfish agendas other than promoting President Mnangagwa and the country’s image.

As if that was not enough, varakashis are now in a civil war that nobody within or outside their ranks have asked for, writes Reason Wafawarova.

In a political drama that not even ZBC could script (and that’s saying something), Zimbabwe’s most theatrical praise choir — Varakashi4ED — is now eating itself alive in broad daylight.

Yes, dear citizens, the gravy train’s stowaways are now fighting over who gets to hold the spoon to stir the nothingness.

According to a statement issued by something calling itself the “Varakashi4ED National Public Relations Department”, a Mr. Godwin Nkatha remains the “legitimate” chairman of this fast-fading caravan of Facebook fighters and WhatsApp warriors.

The former chairman — Jonasi Musara (who moonwalked into calling himself Jones to sound more eligible for donor funding or Diaspora pity) — has apparently been de-campaigned, de-platformed, and digitally deleted.

Ah, politics. One day you’re the head propagandist with a ZANU-stamped nullification letter in your glove box, and the next, you’re back to commenting “ED Pfee” for free data.

Let’s talk about Jones Musara, Zimbabwe’s self-proclaimed Joseph Goebbels of Tokwe-Mukosi.

Here is a man who left his family in Canada — yes, the land of working healthcare, steady electricity, and silence between 2am and 5am — to come back to Zimbabwe not to help fix the country, but to join the looting queue.

Picture it: you’re in Toronto, sipping Tim Hortons, and something in your brain says, “You know what would be better? Defending a collapsing economy in exchange for a Toyota Wish with no radio.”

But that’s Jones. The man who managed to get fired from a volunteer propaganda group, then unfired himself using a piece of paper with a presidential signature.

“We don’t know if the letter was forged, Photoshopped, or stolen from the back of a Chicken Slice receipt, but it had that beautiful word: “NULLIFIED” — Zimbabwean for “I know someone who knows someone.”

Armed with this dubious declaration of continued irrelevance, Musara retrieved a government-issued car, parked it at a growth point, and began performing the political equivalent of TikTok dances for attention: posing as the leader of an expired WhatsApp group.

But hold on. The “official” Varakashi now want us to know that Musara “has no role, position or mandate.” Excuse us while we clutch our pearls. The idea that this group has an actual structure, let alone a “mandate,” is funnier than a Kombi with a ZUPCO sticker speeding past a police roadblock.

Let’s not forget the main goal of Varakashi4ED, stated with a straight face: “Supporting Vision 2030.” What does this support look like, you ask?

Making Twitter threads about how boreholes are a sign of economic recovery. Sharing grainy photos of chicken runs in rural areas and calling them “agricultural revolutions.” Defending load shedding by comparing it to imagined blackouts in London.

And the crown jewel — calling anyone who asks about service delivery a “regime change agent.”
This group has become a satire of itself. It’s a WhatsApp cult whose highest qualification is the ability to screenshot a Facebook post and add 15 fire emojis.

But perhaps the real tragedy isn’t the laughable leadership struggles or the embarrassing bootlicking.

The real issue is that we are expected to take this circus seriously. We are told, in capital letters and bold fonts, that these people speak for youth, for patriotism, for national progress.

Meanwhile, the real youths are crossing crocodile-infested rivers, dodging police in SA, or stuck in vending hustles with PhDs in their back pockets.

And what about the silence from His Excellency himself? As Musara and Nkatha wrestle in the mud for the title of Top Varakashist, the President remains unmoved, sipping imported coffee while his defenders duel for scraps like rejected ZIMDEF tenders.

Is this the “strategic direction” we were promised? A nation led by factions of keyboard warriors fighting over who gets to misquote the Constitution the loudest?

We say no. Enough with these cardboard crusaders and selfie soldiers. Enough with people who measure patriotism by how many times they can say “ED Pfee” before lunch.

Enough with the weaponization of loyalty by people whose only job is to confuse the public and polish the muddy boots of the powerful.

Let’s not be distracted. While Varakashi4ED hold emergency press conferences over who controls their imaginary HQ, the country burns — with inflation galloping, hospitals running on fumes, and young people locked in endless unemployment.

So here’s our humble advice to the Nkathas and Musaras of this world: if you really want to serve Zimbabwe, return the government car, delete your TikTok, and go volunteer in a rural clinic — not a WhatsApp group.

And to the rest of the public: don’t fall for these manufactured squabbles. They want attention, not accountability.

Let them fight in peace, in the corners of the internet they’ve rented with borrowed airtime.