By Wilton Mutepfe
SELF-RELIANCE begins with recognising one’s talent. Before a society can stand on its own feet, individuals must fi rst understand what they are naturally gifted at. Once talent is identifi ed, it must be examined within the context of the environment. Does the surrounding community, institution, or nation support that talent? Is the soil fertile enough for that seed to grow? The path from talent recognition to purposeful action is not always straight, but it is necessary. Talent is more than ability, it is a transformative force.
It is the unseen current that powers innovation, solves society’s most complex challenges and pulls nations towards real progress. When a nation begins to see talent not just as personal achievement but as national capital, the entire framework of development changes. Harnessing human potential becomes more than a slogan; it becomes the driving engine of economic growth, social equity and environmental sustainability.
It is at the intersection of talent and sustainability that true, lasting progress takes root. By nurturing creativity, expertise, and a sense of shared responsibility, societies can build futures that are not only productive but equitable, not only growing but enduring. Zimbabwe, like many African countries, is a land teeming with potential. From the townships of Harare to the hills of Manicaland, from the football pitches of Bulawayo to the music studios of Mutare, we are surrounded by talent.
Our youth brim with energy, ideas, and determination. And yet, a pressing question remains: are we, as a nation, doing enough to ensure that our young people are being trained, guided, and empowered in the areas where their passion and talent lie? In our institutions of higher learning, enrolment policies often prioritise examination marks and the popularity of particular fi elds, medicine, engineering or law, over the actual interests and abilities of students.
This approach, though perhaps practical in theory, in reality pushes many learners into fi elds they have little connection with, fi elds that neither inspire them nor match their natural gifts. As competition for these ‘prestigious’ programmes intensifi es, students are often funnelled into secondchoice careers, merely because their scores didn’t reach the required cut-off point or because family expectations took precedence over personal aspirations.
Therein lies one of the most signifi cant obstacles to meaningful development: the misalignment between an individual’s potential and the path they are compelled to follow. Families and communities, though well-intentioned, often drive young people towards careers viewed as stable or socially respected, without fully understanding the passions that lie within their children. A young man who dreams of one day becoming a footballer may be discouraged, told there’s no future in sports. A girl with a knack for coding or music might be pushed into nursing or teaching because these are seen as safer or more ‘appropriate’ options.
These cultural dynamics, rooted in a colonial past and perpetuated by economic hardships, end up silencing innovation and burying untapped brilliance. This is especially true when it comes to areas like sport and the creative arts, which are often viewed as hobbies rather than serious career paths. In Africa, rising through football or music is seen as a rare, nearmiraculous feat partly because our systems were not designed to support such aspirations. The pro-Western education model we inherited was structured to produce administrators and bureaucrats, not athletes, artists or innovators. While the world races ahead with digital media, artifi cial intelligence, and green technology, we are still training our children for jobs that may no longer exist in two decades. And yet, if we truly understood the power of talent, we would see it as an indispensable component of sustainability.
The people who will build the Zimbabwe of tomorrow are already here. They are in our classrooms, on our farms, on our streets. Some will write new codes to power fi nancial inclusion in rural areas. Others will engineer climatefriendly housing or design digital tools for education. Some will be footballers who put Zimbabwe on the global stage, or scientists who create drought-resistant crops. But for any of this to happen, we must allow their talent to grow where it naturally wants to grow.
Take for instance, our country’s vast solar potential. Zimbabwe enjoys over 3 000 hours of sunshine annually, more than enough to become a regional leader in renewable energy. But that sunlight alone is not enough. We need solar engineers, technicians, energy analysts and green entrepreneurs. We need policy experts who can craft regulations that attract sustainable investment.
We need skilled workers trained not only to install these systems but to maintain and upgrade them. This requires a deliberate investment in education that targets not just general knowledge but specialised, futureoriented skills. A sustainable Zimbabwe will be built by people whose education matches their passions and whose training meets the needs of the country