By Mthokozisi Mabhena

IF ever there is a news headline that keeps returning with a heaviness that threatens to numb our hearts, it is the news of horrific road accidents in Zimbabwe. These are not mere stories. They are devastating, recurring national tragedies. One moment a bus full of passengers is on its way to deliver hopes and dreams, families reunited, workers heading to jobs, children to school; the next, all of it is reduced to silence, pain, and grief. Yet still, we move on. Until the next accident. And the next.

Each fatal crash brings a fresh wound, ripping into the conscience of a nation that should be marching with resolve toward Vision 2030 — an ambitious goal that seeks to uplift Zimbabwe into an upper-middle-income economy. But how do we arrive at that destination if, along the way, we keep losing the very people who are supposed to build that vision? Our engineers, nurses, teachers, entrepreneurs, students, and even future leaders are being lost in the most senseless and preventable of ways. It is as if we are building with one hand and tearing down with the other.

There is something deeply wrong with how we have normalised death on the road. Accidents are happening with chilling frequency. What is even more tragic is that many of these deaths are not accidents in the true sense of the word. They are reckless, irresponsible actions often perpetrated by individuals who feel insulated from consequence. When a bus driver hurtles down a narrow highway at breakneck speed, weaving in and out of lanes, overtaking on blind spots, or driving for hours without rest, that is not fate. That is choice. A deadly one.

And yet, we treat it like an unavoidable part of travel. We whisper condolences, cry for the dead, bury our people, and then life moves on. But the questions must persist: Why does this keep happening? Where is the regulation? Who is enforcing the law? Who is ignoring the cries of a public that is now terrified to travel?

Buses in Zimbabwe have, in some cases, become death traps. They operate like aeroplanes, moving at terrifying speeds. The behaviour of some of these drivers defies logic. What training did they receive? What standards were enforced before they got behind the wheel of a vehicle carrying 70 lives? Who is responsible for inspecting the roadworthiness of these buses? Where are the consequences for speeding, for overloading, for driving under the influence, for unlicensed drivers, for defective brakes?

We must admit an uncomfortable truth: The governance of our public transportation system is faltering. It is either there is law or there is not. And right now, many Zimbabweans do not know which it is. The impunity on the roads suggests that we have created a permissive environment where lives are gambled for profit.

The whip must be cracked. Not in a symbolic way, not in a reactionary wave following a major accident, but consistently, aggressively, and relentlessly. Operating licences must not be seen as perpetual entitlements. They must be tied to strict, visible, and regularly evaluated performance and safety standards. Any company whose vehicles are involved in fatal crashes due to negligence must face immediate and serious sanctions, including the withdrawal of operating licenses.

One cannot look at road fatalities as isolated events. Every life lost is a productivity loss. It is a loss to families, communities, and to the economy. Road accidents create an invisible tax on our national development. They rob us of skilled professionals who should be manning our clinics, constructing our infrastructure, teaching in our schools, and contributing to innovation and entrepreneurship. They leave families destitute, children orphaned, and healthcare systems burdened. Is this not a national emergency?

Beyond enforcement, there must be reform. Our roads are old, narrow, and in many places, dangerous. Public transport operators must be obligated to fit speed limiters, GPS monitoring, and other modern safety technologies into their fleets. Speeding must not be a debate. It must be outlawed with absolute clarity. The implementation of digital surveillance and traffic monitoring systems is not a luxury; it is a necessity. Each journey should be monitored in real time. Passengers must have the power to report speeding drivers, and those reports must be acted upon swiftly and transparently.

We must also look at driver training and welfare. Drivers spend long, punishing hours behind the wheel. Fatigue is real and deadly. Are drivers well-compensated, well-rested, and trained to manage the complex demands of highway driving? Do they understand the physics of road safety, the psychology of fatigue, the moral weight of the lives they carry?

Many do, but some do not. And it is the latter who are allowed to cause death after death. The licensing of public transport drivers must become an elite and respected qualification, renewed through mandatory continuous education and testing. If we encourage doctors to continue training, why not those who control moving metal loaded with human lives?

Public awareness campaigns must become part of everyday discourse. Road safety must be taught in schools, preached in churches, and championed in communities. The public must be educated and empowered to demand safer transportation. Parents must teach children how to recognise dangerous driver behaviour. We must create a culture where speaking up is not seen as rudeness but as civic duty.

It is not enough to talk about Vision 2030 everywhere but not on our roads. That vision will never be achieved if the people meant to carry it forward keep perishing in twisted metal on the side of our roads. Development is not just about GDP, buildings, and policies. It is about people. Living, breathing, contributing people. And if we do not protect them on the very roads that connect their lives and livelihoods, all our efforts amount to building castles on sand.

The political will must also be summoned and displayed boldly. There must be a national commitment backed by legal reform, budget allocations, and rigorous enforcement to make our roads safer. We must strengthen the ZRP’s Traffic Division with training, technology, and resources to enforce road rules not with corruption but with clarity and courage.

Insurance companies must come into the fold. No insurance policy should be offered to any transport operator with a record of negligence. Premiums must reflect risk, and safety must become a cost-saving incentive. The market must reward good behaviour and punish recklessness.

And the judiciary must not lag behind. Cases of manslaughter through dangerous driving must be expedited. Families of victims must not be left to suffer in silence. Compensation should be swift and just. Criminal responsibility must be fully enforced. Let every bus driver and transport operator know that negligence will not be buried with the dead.

Vision 2030 can only succeed with a healthy, safe, and secure population. Roads are economic arteries. They connect farms to markets, students to schools, patients to hospitals. But they can only serve development if they are safe. Otherwise, they become bleeding veins draining the nation of its most precious resource, its people.

We cannot afford the illusion that development is a separate agenda from safety. They are deeply intertwined. Each person who dies in a road accident is a dent in our development trajectory. Each skilled worker lost is a gap in our human capital. Each breadwinner buried is a family pushed closer to poverty. Each student who never returns to school is a future innovation lost.

There are no shortcuts to prosperity. There is no Vision 2030 without decisive action against road carnage. This must be a matter of national importance, pursued with the same urgency as food security, health delivery, or education.

The stories of shattered limbs, wailing mothers, broken dreams, and unmarked graves must stir us. Not into momentary grief, but into permanent reform. The buses we see speeding down our highways with tyres screeching and bodies swaying are not just public transport. They are potential hearses unless something changes now.

Let every policymaker, bus owner, driver, and citizen understand that road safety is a sacred duty. Let us finally say enough is enough. Let us not wait for the next mass funeral, the next set of burnt bodies, the next crying child, or the next hashtag.

Our collective conscience must rise. We must protect life as the cornerstone of development. Vision 2030 must be more than a dream it must be a journey where every Zimbabwean arrives alive.

And if we truly believe that every life matters, then the time to act is now.