(Where Bail Travels More Than the Accused)

By Reason Wafawarova

Yesterday I suggested that the real sentence in the Sonja and Tabitha Madzikanda matter may not be conviction at all — but procedural exhaustion.

Today the courts appear determined to prove the point with astonishing enthusiasm.

After being denied bail yesterday under circumstances that reportedly shocked even the State itself, Sonja Madzikanda and her mother Tabitha were sent back to Chikurubi Maximum Prison and instructed to return to court today at 2pm.

They returned.

Then Zimbabwean procedural theatre resumed magnificently.

First, they were reportedly told the courtroom had changed. They were moved from court to court like constitutional tourists.

Then came the latest miracle of administrative timing: the magistrate meant to hear the matter had allegedly fallen sick.

And just like that, mother and daughter were once again sent back to Chikurubi Maximum Prison — to return again tomorrow morning at 8:30am – most likely to face another excuse for further adjournment.

Job Sikhala was shuffled between court and remand prison for 560 days, Walter Mzembi for 11 months. Both were acquitted and released with no apology. And those youngsters arrested for marching on March 31 last year are still languishing in remand prison – days counting.

Zimbabwe’s justice system increasingly resembles a transport company specialising in prison transfers.

One begins to suspect the State no longer prosecutes people. It circulates them.

The truly revealing detail is that by now almost all the original charges have reportedly collapsed except the cybercrime allegation — itself widely viewed by many legal observers as weak and unlikely to sustain prolonged detention.

And yet detention continues. Adjournment continues. Movement between cells and courtrooms continues. Exhaustion continues.

Which raises a profoundly uncomfortable constitutional question:

If the legal foundation keeps shrinking, what exactly is now sustaining the punishment?

Because at some point, remand prison stops looking like a legal necessity and starts resembling procedural harassment administered through scheduling.

Yesterday there was a disappearing magistrate. Today there is reportedly an unavailable magistrate. Tomorrow perhaps the courtroom itself may develop flu symptoms.

Zimbabweans are now watching a justice system where outcomes increasingly appear less predictable than weather forecasts.

And that is precisely the danger.

Public confidence in institutions does not collapse because courts deny bail occasionally.

Courts everywhere deny bail. Confidence collapses when legal process begins feeling choreographed rather than judicial.

When postponements become patterns. When adjournments become philosophy. When procedure itself becomes punishment.

Most devastating of all is how normal this is beginning to feel.

Citizens are no longer even asking: “Is this lawful?” Many have moved to a darker question: “Who is involved?”

That shift alone should terrify every serious constitutionalist in Zimbabwe.

Because republics survive on public trust in institutions — not on public fear of networks.

And increasingly, Zimbabwe looks less like a constitutional democracy and more like a country where justice travels on political instructions while the accused travel between court and prison in circles.

At this rate, the only thing guaranteed bail in Zimbabwe is postponement itself.