Where do stories come from—and why do certain stories remain with a writer until they eventually demand to be told? I was recently invited by Hidden Voices to share the story behind Zachary’s Cry and reflect on the questions that first inspired the novel. Long before I began writing books, I became aware of a deeply troubling real-life case involving a newborn child, a frightened and confused young mother, and a young doctor confronted by circumstances he neither expected nor fully understood. The story remained with me for many years. When I eventually began writing fiction, I found myself returning to the difficult human and moral questions it had raised. Although Zachary’s Cry was inspired by that case, it is a work of fiction. The events portrayed in the novel are substantially different from what occurred in real life, but the emotional and moral questions at its heart remained the same. At the centre of the story is a child who has no voice and whose future will be determined entirely by the decisions of adults. The Hidden Voices feature explores the novel’s themes of human frailty, responsibility, rural medicine, justice, forgiveness, and redemption. It also considers the extraordinary contribution made by Zachary’s foster parents, Anne and Ian Prince-Smith, whose quiet devotion provides the moral heart of the story. Hidden Voices describes Zachary’s Cry as “a deeply human story of responsibility, fragility, and quiet courage, where the smallest acts of care carry the greatest weight.” Read the full Hidden Voices conversation here. Zachary’s Cry is available in Kindle and paperback editions from Amazon and other online booksellers.

What happens when one irreversible moment changes a life forever — and who should bear responsibility for the consequences? Longlisted for BookViral's 2025 Millennium Book Award Zachary's Cry is a contemporary Australian novel about trauma, medical responsibility, justice, and the extraordinary capacity of ordinary people to love a child whose life begins in the most difficult of circumstances. Set largely in rural South Australia, the story begins when a frightened young nursing student conceals an unwanted pregnancy and gives birth alone. Her premature baby, Zachary, survives — but with profound brain injuries that will affect him for the rest of his life. From that single night flows a chain of consequences involving Zachary's family, the people who come to care for him, a rural doctor, and eventually a multimillion-dollar medical negligence claim. More than a courtroom story Although a medical negligence case becomes an important part of Zachary's Cry, the novel is ultimately about people rather than litigation. It asks uncomfortable questions about responsibility and blame. What happens when people make decisions under pressure, with incomplete information? Can responsibility for tragedy ever be neatly assigned? And what does justice mean when no legal judgment can undo what has happened? At its heart, however, Zachary's Cry is a story about compassion, resilience, and the remarkable difference that love can make to a vulnerable child's life. Find Zachary's Cry on Amazon Zachary's Cry is available in Kindle and paperback editions on Amazon. Choose your local Amazon store below.

I’m pleased to share that No Clean Exit has been featured in the Discover Books series on Hidden Voices—a curated platform that supports independent authors and helps thoughtful books find new readers. Set against the emerging AUKUS submarine programme and heightened tensions in the Indo-Pacific, No Clean Exit explores the hidden world of espionage, foreign interference, and counterintelligence. At its centre is an Australian submarine engineer whose private vulnerability threatens not only his career and family, but also some of the country’s most closely guarded secrets. You can read the Hidden Voices feature here. You can watch the short promotional video below. No Clean Exit

Who is responsible when one irreversible moment changes a life forever? That is a question that lies at the heart of many of life's greatest tragedies. When calamity strikes, our first instinct is often to ask, Who is responsible? We search for someone to blame because we hope that, if responsibility can be neatly assigned, then perhaps the tragedy itself will somehow make sense. Real life, however, is rarely that straightforward. A split-second decision, made under pressure and with incomplete information, can have consequences that echo for decades. Those involved are often ordinary people doing the best they can in extraordinary circumstances. Sometimes they make mistakes. Sometimes they follow accepted procedures and still fail. Sometimes they simply find themselves caught in events beyond their control. Nowhere is this more evident than in rural Australia. People living in cities are accustomed to having hospitals, specialists and emergency services only minutes away. Rural communities often operate under very different conditions. Doctors, nurses, and first responders must frequently make critical decisions with fewer resources, partial information, longer transport times, and limited specialist support. They carry enormous professional responsibility while working within constraints that many urban Australians never have to consider. Yet when something goes wrong, the question remains the same. Who is responsible? Is it the individual? The system? Circumstance? Or is responsibility sometimes shared in ways that defy simple answers? These questions have fascinated me for many years, not only as a writer but also through my professional career in law and healthcare. They eventually inspired me to write Zachary's Cry, which was longlisted for BookViral’s 2025 Millennium Award. Although the novel is a work of fiction inspired by real events, its heart lies not in the courtroom, but in the lives of ordinary people whose futures are transformed by a single irreversible moment. At the centre of the story are a frightened young woman, a rural doctor faced with an impossible situation, a newborn child whose life hangs in the balance, and the foster parents whose extraordinary love and commitment ultimately redefine what family can mean. At first glance, Zachary's Cry may appear to be a medical or legal novel. In truth, medicine and the law provide the setting, but people provide the story. It is a story about human frailty, compassion, resilience, forgiveness, and the quiet heroism of people who continue to do the right thing long after the headlines have faded. Perhaps that is why so many readers tell me they continue thinking about the characters long after finishing the final page. The legal questions matter, but they are not the story's destination. They are simply the path that leads to a much deeper exploration of justice, responsibility, and hope. I deliberately avoid telling readers what conclusions they should reach. Instead, I invite them to walk beside the characters, to experience the uncertainty they face, and ultimately to answer the novel's central question for themselves. Who is responsible when one irreversible moment changes a life forever? If that question intrigues you, I invite you to discover Zachary’s Cry. Watch the trailer and begin the journey. Click here.

A concluding reflection on Zimbabwe's Constitution Amendment Bill No. 3 When I first began writing about Constitution Amendment Bill No. 3 earlier this year, the proposals existed only on paper. Today, that journey has come to an end. The Bill has been approved by both Houses of Parliament, and President Emmerson Mnangagwa has assented to the legislation. The amendments are now part of Zimbabwe's constitutional framework. The legislative process is over. However, the constitutional consequences are only beginning. Although legal arguments and debate may yet continue over aspects of the amendment process, the political reality is that Zimbabwe's constitutional landscape has now changed in a profound and lasting way. Throughout this series of articles, I have deliberately tried to avoid approaching this issue through a party-political lens. Governments come and go. Constitutions remain. Or at least they should. My concern has never centred upon one individual or one political party. It has centred upon a far more enduring question. What happens when a government, without the consent of the people, becomes sufficiently powerful to alter the constitutional rules that were originally designed to restrain it? That question has now moved from theory to reality. Supporters of Amendment No. 3 believe the reforms will strengthen governance, promote stability, and improve the efficiency of government. Time alone will determine whether those objectives are achieved. Others, however, view the amendments very differently. They see another step in a constitutional journey that has, over many decades, steadily transferred authority towards the Executive and reduced the practical restraints that a constitution is intended to impose upon those who govern. History rarely judges constitutional amendments by the intentions of those who enact them. It judges them by the way they are ultimately used. That is why constitutions deserve such careful stewardship. Their true purpose is revealed not when governments exercise power responsibly, but when they are tempted not to. A Promise Forgotten There is one aspect of this debate that should not be lightly dismissed. Shortly after becoming President in 2018, Emmerson Mnangagwa was interviewed by CNN journalist Christiane Amanpour. During that interview he reaffirmed his commitment to constitutionalism, saying: "Even if the people love me, I will still go away because I believe constitutionalism is important. In fact, we must give people the chance to have other leaders. Ten years is not a short period. In my view, it's quite a long period, and if you have a vision, that period is long enough to implement your vision." Those words reflected an important constitutional principle. Power should always remain subject to constitutional restraint. Whether the passage of Amendment No. 3 is consistent with that earlier commitment is a question each reader must answer for themselves. For my own part, I find it difficult to reconcile the President's actions over the past year with the constitutional principles he articulated in 2018. Zimbabwe's Constitutional Pattern Zimbabwe's constitutional history offers little comfort. Since the late 1980s, constitutional amendments have more often concentrated power than dispersed it. Checks and balances have gradually weakened. Executive authority has steadily expanded. Institutions intended to provide independent oversight have, at various times, struggled to perform that role with the independence originally envisaged by the Constitution. Some people may disagree about the extent to which Amendment No. 3 continues that pattern. I, for one, believe it does. My concern is not that the governing party has demonstrated its ability to secure the constitutional majority in both houses of Parliament necessary to amend the nation's founding document. It is that Parliament has demonstrated its preparedness to reshape Zimbabwe's constitutional framework without seeking the direct endorsement of the electorate. That represents a significant shift in the relationship between Parliament and the people. Whether that ultimately strengthens Zimbabwe's democracy or weakens it will depend not merely upon the wording of the amendments, but upon how they are exercised in the years ahead. Healthy Democracies There is another reason for concern. One hallmark of every healthy democracy is the realistic possibility of political change. Regular elections, while essential, are not enough. Elections must also offer citizens a genuine opportunity to replace those who govern. Constitutions should create conditions in which governments can be replaced peacefully through the ballot box when citizens choose a different direction. When constitutional change increasingly favours the long-term dominance of one political party, questions inevitably arise about the future vitality of democratic competition itself. That does not mean Zimbabwe has ceased to be a democracy. It does, however, mean that the resilience and independence of its democratic institutions deserve closer scrutiny than ever before. Beyond Amendment No. 3 My greatest concern is not Amendment No. 3 itself. It is the constitutional precedent it establishes. If future constitutional changes command overwhelming parliamentary support but lack the confidence of the Zimbabwean people, the constitutional pathway through which citizens may resist those changes has become considerably narrower. Passing constitutional amendments is a legislative act. Building a culture of constitutional restraint takes generations. Constitutions are not self-defending. They rely upon citizens who understand why constitutional limits exist and who remain willing to defend those limits, regardless of which political party happens to hold power. The principles of constitutional restraint are tested most severely when governments are politically secure and possess the parliamentary numbers to alter the rules themselves. That is precisely when vigilance matters most. As this chapter of Zimbabwe's constitutional history closes, another begins. Whether future historians regard Amendment No. 3 as a measure that strengthened Zimbabwe's democracy or one that accelerated the concentration of political power cannot yet be known. History will render that verdict. For my own part, having lived through constitutional change in both Rhodesia and Zimbabwe over many decades, I cannot escape a deep sense of unease. I sincerely hope that history proves my concerns to have been misplaced. For if it does not, the greatest cost will not be borne by today's politicians. It will be borne by the generations of Zimbabweans who inherit the constitutional choices made on their behalf. Can the People Still Protect the Constitution? In my previous blog I asked that question. Having reflected further on the passage of Amendment No. 3, I have reluctantly come to the view that the answer is no longer yes. For a constitution to be effectively protected from arbitrary or self-serving amendments, three constitutional safeguards must exist. First, Parliament must genuinely understand that the Constitution does not belong to those who govern. It belongs to the people, and Parliament's first constitutional duty is to protect it accordingly. Secondly, the courts, the judiciary, and every institution entrusted with upholding the rule of law must be willing, when necessary, to exercise the powers entrusted to them to prevent constitutional safeguards from being bypassed or undermined. Finally, the electorate itself must remain sufficiently informed and motivated to vigorously defend the Constitution through the lawful exercise of democratic rights. These three safeguards are not alternatives. They depend upon one another. If one weakens, the others come under greater strain. If all three weaken together, the Constitution itself becomes increasingly vulnerable. It is difficult to escape the conclusion that Zimbabwe has now moved perilously close to that point. That is why the passage of Amendment No. 3 concerns me so deeply. Not because constitutions should never change. But because the institutions upon which constitutional government ultimately depends no longer appear to possess either the independence or the resolve necessary to prevent the concentration of power when constitutional limits are ignored or tested. For that reason, I find it increasingly difficult to believe that the Zimbabwean people, acting alone, will be able to protect their Constitution. History has shown that constitutions are strongest when governments willingly accept limits upon their own power. It has also shown that once those limits begin to erode, restoring them is rarely easy.

A further reflection on Zimbabwe's Constitution Amendment Bill No. 3 When I first wrote about Zimbabwe's proposed Constitution Amendment Bill No. 3 in February 2026, and again after the public consultation hearings began in April, I expressed concern that the process appeared unlikely to alter the Bill's eventual outcome. Events over the past week have done little to change that assessment. The National Assembly has now approved the Bill with the required two-thirds majority. Unless an unexpected political development intervenes, the Senate is also expected to do the same. If that occurs, the amendments will become part of Zimbabwe's Constitution. Importantly, this will have occurred without the proposals first being put directly to the electorate through a national referendum. That moment should cause all Zimbabweans to pause. Not simply because the Constitution is changing. But because of what is changing. Constitutions exist for two purposes. They establish government. But they also restrain it. Those two purposes are equally important. A constitution that creates institutions without limiting their power risks becoming little more than a legal framework for concentrating power in the hands of the Executive. A constitution worthy of the name also protects citizens from the natural tendency of governments to accumulate power over time. This is not a criticism of any particular government. It is an observation about politics itself. Throughout history, governments of every ideology have sought greater freedom to govern with fewer constitutional constraints. Some have justified those changes in the interests of efficiency. Others have argued they were necessary for stability, national unity, or economic reform. Sometimes those arguments have been persuasive. Sometimes they have not. What matters is that constitutional safeguards, once weakened, are rarely restored with ease. This pattern is not unique to Zimbabwe. In 2017, Türkiye approved constitutional amendments that substantially expanded presidential powers. Supporters believed the changes would provide stability following years of political uncertainty. Critics feared they weakened the separation of powers. Regardless of where one stood, the decision ultimately rested with the electorate through a national referendum. Five years later, Chile offered a different lesson. Following an extensive constitutional review, a proposed new constitution was put before the people. Despite widespread expectations that it would be adopted, Chilean voters rejected it. Whatever one's opinion of the proposal, the process demonstrated a fundamental democratic principle: constitutions derive their legitimacy from the consent of the people. Poland provides another example. Over the past decade, reforms affecting judicial independence and constitutional oversight generated intense domestic and international debate. Elections eventually produced a change of government, illustrating that democratic institutions, when sufficiently robust, retain the capacity to direct and correct their own destiny. These countries differ profoundly in their histories, cultures and political systems. Yet each reminds us that constitutional change is never merely a legal exercise. It is a question about where power should reside. Zimbabwe now finds itself confronting that same question. Supporters of Amendment Bill No. 3 argue that the changes will promote stability and improve governance. Critics argue that the changes move constitutional power further towards the Executive and further away from the citizen. Whether history ultimately vindicates one view or the other remains to be seen. History does, however, teach another important lesson. Democracies seldom disappear overnight. More often than not, constitutional change occurs incrementally. A term of office is extended. An appointment process is altered. An oversight body becomes less independent. Each individual change can be defended on its own merits. Only later does the cumulative effect become apparent. That is why constitutions deserve such careful stewardship. They are not written for today's leaders. They are written for leaders who have not yet emerged. Every constitutional power granted today will eventually be exercised by someone else — perhaps by leaders whose values and priorities have yet to emerge. That simple truth should encourage humility in every generation that seeks to amend its nation's founding document. Lord Acton's famous observation remains as relevant today as when he first wrote it more than a century ago: "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." His words were never intended as an attack upon individual leaders. They were a warning about human nature. The American jurist Learned Hand expressed a complementary, but chilling, thought: "Liberty lies in the hearts of men and women; when it dies there, no constitution, no law, no court can save it." Zimbabwe's constitutional journey is still unfolding. Whether Amendment No. 3 ultimately strengthens the nation or weakens its democratic foundations will not be decided by this week's parliamentary vote alone. It will be determined over many years by how the amended Constitution is exercised, respected and defended. Whatever one's political persuasion, one principle surely deserves broad agreement. Constitutions should never belong to governments. They belong to nations. And ultimately, they belong to the people. For history suggests that when citizens gradually surrender constitutional safeguards in exchange for promises of stability or efficiency, they often discover — too late — that restoring those safeguards is far harder than preserving them in the first place. To conclude, perhaps the most enduring lesson of constitutional history is this: Constitutions are most vulnerable when governments are sufficiently strong to change the rules themselves without reference to the electorate.

Over recent weeks there has been growing media discussion in Australia surrounding the AUKUS alliance, rising strategic tension in the Indo-Pacific region, and the increasingly fragile relationship between China, Taiwan, and the United States. As global geopolitics increasingly dominates international headlines, issues once viewed as distant strategic concerns are beginning to feel far more immediate and relevant to ordinary Australians. At the same time, reports continue to emerge about high-level discussions between Washington and Beijing — including ongoing commentary surrounding Taiwan and the risks of strategic miscalculation between major powers. For many Australians, these issues can still feel distant. Abstract. The domain of diplomats, defence analysts, and political leaders. But I suspect that is beginning to change. For decades Australia enjoyed the comfort of geographic isolation. Most global conflicts seemed to occur somewhere else — followed from afar through television screens and newspaper headlines. Yet recent events in the Middle East and elsewhere have demonstrated how rapidly geopolitical instability can escalate and ripple across the global stage. Strategic competition in our region is no longer theoretical. Decisions made by global superpowers carry consequences that may eventually affect all of us. That changing reality was one of the inspirations behind my new novel, No Clean Exit. Although fictional, the story is grounded in many of the geopolitical themes now appearing regularly in public discussion: the strategic significance of AUKUS intelligence operations and secrecy military posturing in the Indo-Pacific the risks of escalation and miscalculation and the personal cost paid by those caught within larger institutional struggles What interested me most while writing the novel was not simply the geopolitical contest itself, but the human dimension beneath it. Behind every strategic decision are individuals — intelligence officers, politicians, military personnel, journalists, and ordinary families — all trying to navigate uncertainty, loyalty, fear, and competing versions of truth. For me, these themes are not entirely abstract. In my own life I have seen and experienced some of these realities — both the good and the bad. One of the dangers in any period of rising tension is that public narratives can harden very quickly. Once governments, institutions, and media organisations settle upon a particular interpretation of events, alternative explanations can become increasingly difficult to examine objectively. History shows us that perception, misinformation, and political expediency can sometimes shape international crises just as powerfully as facts themselves. That does not mean conflict is inevitable. Far from it. But it does mean that understanding these issues matters. Perhaps one of the valuable roles fiction can still play is helping readers engage emotionally with subjects that might otherwise feel remote or overly technical. Novels allow us to explore uncertainty, ambiguity, and consequence in ways that official statements and policy papers often cannot. In the end, No Clean Exit is not a prediction of the future. But it is very much a story shaped by the world we are living in now. And judging by recent headlines, those issues are unlikely to disappear anytime soon.

I’m pleased to announce that my new novel, No Clean Exit , is now available in both paperback and eBook formats. Set in Australia against the backdrop of the AUKUS alliance between Australia, the United States, and the United Kingdom — created to strengthen security in the Indo-Pacific amid rising geopolitical tension — this slow-burn espionage thriller explores the dangerous intersection of strategy, intelligence, and personal consequence. The short video below introduces the story and the world behind the novel. If you would like to learn more about the book and where to purchase it, click here .

This week marks the 46th anniversary of Zimbabwe’s independence . On 18 April 1980, the country stepped into the sunlight of majority rule amid scenes of celebration and genuine hope. For many Zimbabweans — black and white — independence carried the promise of reconciliation, prosperity, true democracy and a new national beginning. In reflecting on that moment, I am reminded of the motto of the senior school I attended from 1968 to 1973 — Prince Edward School, Harare : Tot facienda, parum factum So much to do, so little done. The words, attributed to Cecil John Rhodes , express a spirit of restless ambition — the belief that there is always more work ahead. Rhodes himself remains a deeply controversial historical figure, and rightly so. Yet the Latin phrase endures because it captures something universal about human endeavour: the sense that progress requires effort, persistence, and honest reflection. Forty-six years after independence, another Latin phrase comes to mind: Multa promissa, parum factum. Much promised, little done. In 1980, Zimbabwe inherited a country with functioning institutions, a strong agricultural, mining, and industrial base, a respected civil service, and one of the most developed economies in Africa. The early years of independence seemed to hold real promise. Yet over time, the policies and governance of ZANU-PF , initially under the leadership of Robert Mugabe  and, since 2017, Emmerson Mnangagwa , steadily eroded much of what had been built. Economic collapse, hyperinflation, political repression, and the flight of millions of Zimbabweans from their homeland tell a sobering story. The gap between the hopes of 1980 and the lived reality of the decades that followed has been profound. History, however, is rarely simple. Rhodes’ legacy remains deeply contested, and the colonial era carried injustices that cannot be ignored. At the same time, the experience of the past four decades exposes profound failures of leadership, governance, and stewardship of the nation’s inheritance. Perhaps the two Latin phrases together tell the story rather well. In the early pioneering decades this idiom was apt: Tot facienda, parum factum. So much to do, so little done. And yet, for many Zimbabweans reflecting on the last four decades and the challenges facing the country today, the sentiment may well now be: Multa promissa, parum factum. Much promised, little done. As Zimbabwe marks forty-six years of independence, the country once again finds itself at an important crossroads. The proposed constitutional amendment currently under discussion raises serious concerns about the further consolidation of political power in the hands of a party that, over decades of governance, has largely failed to deliver the promises made at independence. Constitutional arrangements are meant to safeguard the balance of power and protect democratic institutions. Altering them in ways that weaken those safeguards risks deepening the very problems that have held the country back. Zimbabwe remains a nation of extraordinary resilience and potential. Many of its people, both within the country and across the diaspora, still believe deeply in the promise that independence once represented. The challenge for the future is not simply to remember the hopes of 1980, but to ensure that the structures of governance allow those hopes finally to be realised. If that can be achieved, then perhaps one day the two Latin sentiments may finally converge — Multa promissa, multa fa cta — much promised, much accomplished — while still recognising that there is always more work to be done: T ot facienda, parum factum.

I’m pleased to share that my new novel, No Clean Exit , is now available in paperback and eBook format  on Amazon and other online platforms. This book explores a world where geopolitics, intelligence, and personal consequences collide . At the centre of the story is the strategic landscape of the Indo-Pacific , including the AUKUS alliance, nuclear-powered submarines, and rising tensions surrounding Taiwan. These are issues that regularly appear in news headlines, but behind the language of strategy and deterrence lie real people working within complex institutions — people whose lives can be profoundly affected by decisions made far above them. The novel follows Daniel Mercer , a senior submarine engineer working at the centre of Australia’s most sensitive defence programme. As tensions escalate internationally, Mercer becomes drawn into a series of professional conversations that appear entirely legitimate. No secrets are exchanged. No laws are broken. Yet the margin between influence and espionage  can be dangerously narrow. As scrutiny begins, institutions in Canberra, Washington, and Beijing move quickly to protect themselves — and Mercer discovers that when powerful systems come under pressure, individuals can easily become expendable. No Clean Exit  is a serious contemporary thriller about loyalty, ambition, and the hidden cost of being useful in a world moving steadily toward confrontation. Because when nations embrace brinkmanship, someone always pays . You can find No Clean Exit  here: Published Books - No Clean Exit Thank you to everyone who has followed the journey of this book over the past months. I hope you enjoy the story.

Introduction My blog titled Zimbabwe at a Constitutional Crossroads  was first published on 19 February 2026 , shortly after the Constitution of Zimbabwe Amendment (No. 3) Bill  was gazetted. I have now updated that blog following the commencement of nationwide public hearings and the controversy that has surrounded the consultation process. When I wrote the original blog in February, I was already deeply sceptical about the real objectives behind the proposed amendments. My concern was that the so-called consultation period might become little more than a procedural exercise rather than a genuine attempt to gauge the views of the Zimbabwean people. If the government were confident that the proposed amendments commanded broad national support, one could reasonably argue that they should have been submitted to the electorate through a referendum. A referendum would have provided the clearest possible demonstration of public legitimacy. Instead, the government has chosen to rely on the parliamentary amendment procedure. In the weeks since the Bill was gazetted, the consultation process has itself become controversial. Some hearings have reportedly been tense and confrontational, and allegations have emerged that opponents of the amendments have faced intimidation, harassment, beatings, or even arrest in connection with the public debate. Government representatives and supporters of the Bill reject these claims and maintain that the hearings have been open to public participation. The formal consultation period runs until approximately mid-May 2026 . After that point the Bill can be formally introduced in the National Assembly . Because it is a constitutional amendment, it must obtain a two-thirds majority in both the National Assembly and the Senate  before it can become law. At present ZANU-PF holds just over the two-thirds threshold in the National Assembly , which means that, if party discipline holds, it could theoretically pass the amendment in that chamber without opposition support. The position in the Senate  is slightly different. ZANU-PF does not hold a two-thirds party majority in the Senate on its own, although support from traditional chiefs and aligned members has historically enabled the government to secure the numbers required to pass legislation. It is also worth noting that the proposals contained in the Bill would directly affect the structure and tenure of elected office. As a result, sitting members of Parliament are themselves not entirely detached from the implications of the amendments. Among other things, the proposed amendment would alter aspects of how political offices are filled and adjust provisions relating to the tenure of certain elected representatives and elements of electoral oversight. Supporters argue these changes will improve administrative efficiency and political stability. Critics contend that they risk weakening democratic accountability. Some parts of the current Constitution are designated as “entrenched provisions.”  If an amendment affects these sections, it must also be approved through a national referendum  after passing Parliament. These entrenched provisions mainly relate to: • the Bill of Rights , and • the presidential term-limit provisions . There is currently debate among constitutional lawyers about whether elements of Amendment Bill No. 3 might indirectly affect those protections. The government’s position is that the amendments do not trigger the referendum requirement. If that interpretation ultimately prevails, then once the Bill secures the required two-thirds majority in both houses of Parliament , it will become law. Zimbabwe at Constitutional Crossroads (again) Zimbabwe stands once again at a constitutional crossroads. The proposed Constitution of Zimbabwe Amendment (No. 3) Bill, 2026  is not a routine administrative adjustment. It proposes significant changes to how executive authority is exercised and how citizens relate to political power. When constitutional amendments affect the mode of electing a President, the length of terms in office, or the structure of electoral oversight, they are not technical. They are foundational. And foundational changes require foundational legitimacy. When the Rules Begin to Shift The proposed amendments are making many Zimbabweans feel something they struggle to name. It is not outrage. It is not panic. It is not even surprise. It is unease. Those who have lived in the country long enough will recognise the feeling that comes when the rules of the country begin to shift again. The proposed constitutional changes are being presented as adjustments — refinements, improvements, efficiencies. Perhaps they are. Perhaps they are not. But whenever the rules about power are altered — who holds it, how long they hold it, and how they are chosen — history tells us to slow down and look carefully. Events Since the Bill Was Published Since the Bill was gazetted in February, Parliament has conducted public consultation hearings across the country . In principle, these hearings are intended to allow citizens to express their views before Parliament proceeds with debate and voting. However, the consultation process itself has now become part of the constitutional debate. Several hearings reportedly became highly charged and confrontational, and a number of incidents have attracted national and international attention. Among the most widely reported cases: • Tendai Biti , a senior opposition figure and former finance minister, was arrested in March 2026 in connection with political meetings linked to opposition to the amendments. • Lovemore Madhuku , a constitutional law scholar and leader of the National Constitutional Assembly, reported that he was assaulted on 1 March 2026 at the organisation’s offices in Harare while preparing opposition to the proposed amendments. Madhuku said that a group of masked men stormed into the meeting and beat him with baton sticks. He later showed journalists welts and bruising across his back. Police vehicles were reportedly present nearby, although authorities later stated that they were not involved.. • Doug Coltart , a prominent human-rights lawyer and politician, reported being assaulted while leaving one of the public hearings in Harare after objecting to the atmosphere surrounding the meeting. • Journalists covering some of the hearings have reported intimidation and harassment, with international media-freedom organisations raising concerns about the environment in which the consultations took place. Supporters of the government and the proposed amendments have rejected claims that the process has been unfair. They argue that the hearings were open to the public and that disruptions have been caused by political activists on multiple sides of the debate. As with many politically charged processes, the full picture is complex and competing narratives have emerged. What is clear, however, is that the consultation process itself has become a significant part of the national conversation. Lessons from Zimbabwe’s Constitutional History Zimbabwe’s past offers sobering lessons. In 1969 and 1970 , constitutional changes were pushed through under the Rhodesian Front government of Ian Smith . A referendum was held — but it excluded the overwhelming majority of black Zimbabweans. The constitution that followed entrenched minority rule and deepened division. It did not bring stability. It hardened conflict. Years later, in 1987 , another constitutional shift took place under Robert Mugabe . The ceremonial presidency was replaced with an executive presidency. The argument then was about unity and efficiency. Over time, however, power became more concentrated, and the space for institutional restraint narrowed. Different eras. Different governments. Different justifications. But one common thread runs through them all — major constitutional change driven from above, with limited direct national consent. And each time, democratic space became smaller. This is not about race.It is not about nostalgia.It is not about defending one period over another. It is about recognising a pattern. Democracies Rarely Collapse Overnight They change slowly. A term is extended here. A selection method altered there. An oversight mechanism adjusted. Each individual step can be explained. Each can be defended. But over time, the centre of gravity moves. Zimbabweans — especially black Zimbabweans who bore the brunt of exclusion under minority rule — understand what it means to be locked out of political power. That memory should make all of us cautious whenever constitutional change reduces the direct voice of the people. The struggle for majority rule was not merely about replacing one set of leaders with another. It was about restoring ownership of the country to its citizens. That principle must remain non-negotiable. Why the Process Matters Constitutions do not belong to governments. They belong to nations. When changes affect the core architecture of power, legitimacy matters as much as content. Public consultation is therefore not a procedural formality. It is the mechanism through which citizens exercise ownership of their constitution. If constitutional reform truly reflects the will of the people, broad national endorsement strengthens it. If it does not, the absence of endorsement weakens trust — and trust, once lost, is difficult to rebuild. Zimbabwe has suffered enough from cycles of distrust. This Is Bigger Than Party Politics You can support or oppose any political leader and still believe that constitutional change should carry unmistakable public legitimacy. You can vote for the ruling party and still believe that the rules of governance should not be altered lightly. You can belong to the opposition and still understand that constitutional stability is a national asset. The issue is not who governs today. The issue is whether tomorrow’s leaders — whoever they are — will face meaningful limits. A Word About Responsibility Zimbabwe’s history shows that constitutional amendments enacted without broad national consent have often resulted in narrower democratic space. That lesson transcends party and personality. The question facing Zimbabwe today is not simply political. It is generational: Will future Zimbabweans inherit institutions strong enough to restrain power — whoever holds it? When foundational rules are altered, the people should not be spectators. They are sovereign. And sovereignty carries both rights and responsibility. Responsibility means paying attention. It means asking questions. It means engaging respectfully and lawfully in public debate. It means participating in consultations, speaking to representatives, supporting peaceful civic expression, and encouraging others to remain informed. More than two thousand years ago, Plato observed that when citizens withdraw from public life, they should not be surprised by who governs them. Democracy does not defend itself. It is sustained by citizens who take an interest in the way they are governed. Zimbabwe’s future will not be shaped only in Parliament. It will be shaped by whether its people choose to involve themselves in the rules that govern them. This is a moment for thought. It is a moment for vigilance. And it is a moment for all Zimbabweans — regardless of race or party — to remember that the Constitution ultimately belongs to them, and that its future direction depends on their engagement. Final Thoughts Recent world events have highlighted the undeniable truth in the old adage: “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Regardless of personal political views, it is clear that if the proposed Bill becomes law, it will strengthen the powers not only of the current government but of future Zimbabwean governments as well. Zimbabwe’s citizens must therefore reflect carefully on whether they are comfortable for the country’s constitutional future to be shaped exclusively within Parliament, or whether — when it comes to constitutional matters — they wish to take an active interest in the rules that govern them. This is a moment for reflection. It is a moment for vigilance. Constitutions are not merely legal documents. They are the guardrails that protect a nation from the excesses of power. And when those guardrails are altered, the people cannot afford to look away. For Zimbabweans — regardless of race, generation, or political affiliation — the Constitution ultimately belongs to them. Its strength, its legitimacy, and its future direction will depend not only on the decisions taken by politicians, but on the willingness of citizens to remain engaged in how they are governed. Because when the rules of a nation change, the consequences rarely belong only to those who made them.

One of the realities of being a self-published author is that the work does not end once the manuscript has been written and the book published. In many ways, that is only the beginning. The next challenge is helping readers discover the story. With that in mind, I have recently updated the short promotional video for Zachary’s Cry . The novel, set on the stunning Yorke Peninsula in South Australia, tells a deeply human story of trauma, justice, compassion, and redemption. It follows the life of Zachary, a child whose difficult birth leads to a devastating injury, and the extraordinary journey that follows. At the heart of the story are the people who stand beside him: Dr Clive Cloete, a newly arrived rural GP trained in Zimbabwe who finds himself at the centre of a legal battle that threatens both his career and reputation, and Anne and Ian Prince-Smith, whose compassion and commitment provide Zachary with the love and stability he desperately needs. While a novel allows readers to imagine the story in their own way, a video offers a different perspective. This short video aims to capture some of the emotional journey at the heart of Zachary’s Cry  — the struggle for justice, the strength of family, and the enduring power of hope. I hope you will take a moment to watch the short clip below. If you have already read Zachary’s Cry , I hope the video brings some of those moments back to mind. If you enjoyed the book, please feel free to share this email or the video with friends who might also appreciate the story. If you are new to the story, I hope the video will give you a glimpse into a novel that many readers have described as both powerful and deeply moving. Thank you, as always, for your continuing support. Zachary’s Cry  is available through my website and major online retailers. Michael Chalk Promotional video