Connections Matter: Kudakwashe Manjonjo on Zimbabwe's Political Economy & Its Impact on His Journey

Across Zimbabwe, a silent yet powerful form of protest is playing out. It’s not one marked by placards or slogans but by a simple, everyday action: the exchange of currency. Kudakwashe Andrew Manjonjo, a PhD candidate at Wits University, has ventured into the world of informal money traders, exploring how these seemingly overlooked figures play a pivotal role in shaping Zimbabwe’s monetary system.

Through his research, Manjonjo is on a quest to highlight the complex dynamics that go beyond mere economic transactions, shedding light on what he sees as a political act of defiance. Manjonjo’s work centres on how Zimbabweans, facing the persistent instability of their national currency, the Zimbabwean dollar, navigate an economic system they feel no longer serves them. “When a teacher gets their salary in Zim dollars and immediately exchanges it for US dollars on the street, that’s a powerful statement,” he explains. “It’s a rejection of the government’s monetary policy, a declaration of distrust in the state’s ability to manage the economy.”

To fully grasp the implications of this, Manjonjo points to the global history of currency. “Informal money traders have always existed,” Manjonjo elaborated enthusiastically. “Historically, communities operated with various forms of currency—whether it’s cowrie shells in pre-colonial Southern Africa or the multitude of bank-issued currencies in early 20th century America.” However, the 20th century brought a shift toward formalised, centralised monetary systems. Once integral to their communities, informal money traders were increasingly marginalised and criminalised.

But in Zimbabwe, with hyperinflation and poor monetary control ravaging the economy, informal traders have reclaimed their place as key players in the financial ecosystem. Manjonjo views their actions as much more than economic survival. “It’s a form of empowerment,” he explains. “By choosing to hold multiple currencies—whether it’s US dollars, South African rand, or even Bond notes—people are asserting their autonomy. They’re saying, ‘We don’t trust the state to safeguard our livelihoods.'”
This silent form of resistance, according to Manjonjo, is a significant political act.

For Manjonjo, this form of protest is deeply personal. He recounts his own family’s struggles during Zimbabwe’s economic crisis. His mother, one of the first women in the 1990s to own land in her name, worked in the banking sector and provided a comfortable life for her family. “I attended a great school, and we had a house,” he recalls. “But when the economy collapsed, so did everything we had built. My mom lost her job and our home. It was a harsh lesson in how economic policies can devastate lives.”

This experience fueled Manjonjo’s interest in the intersection of economics and politics, pushing him to question conventional ideas of democracy. “Freedom of expression and the right to vote are important. But what about economic freedom? What good is the right to speak when you’re trapped in poverty?”

Manjonjo’s research challenges the status quo, advocating for rethinking Zimbabwe’s monetary policies. He argues for a multi-currency regime where individuals, not just the state, have the freedom to choose how they transact. “The current system criminalises informal money traders, but why?” he asks. “Why should it be illegal for someone to hold different currencies? In a country with a large migrant population and an unstable currency, people need flexibility. Restricting that is not only impractical, it’s oppressive.