Image Credit: ZiFM Stereo

By Staff Writer

Today, Prophet Walter Magaya, founder of Prophetic Healing and Deliverance Ministries, appeared in court. This adds to Zimbabwe’s ongoing story of judicial inaction.

Arrested on Saturday by a team from the Zimbabwe Republic Police (ZRP) for multiple allegations of rape and fraud, Magaya was expected to face serious consequences. Instead, we witnessed the usual pattern of confusion, delays, and institutional inaction.

The charges against Magaya are not new.

For over a decade, from 2014 to 2025, many complaints have emerged, ranging from sexual abuse to financial misconduct. Despite the seriousness and number of these allegations, the judicial system has consistently failed to provide justice.

Today was no different. While the police confirmed his arrest and promised openness, no meaningful updates were given.

The silence is loud and damning.

What makes this case particularly troubling is the legal notice issued to victims and witnesses. It warns them not to share their identities or statements with the police or the Zimbabwe Gender Commission until there is a valid conviction.

This strange directive not only disrupts the investigation but also sends a chilling message: the system seems more worried about its image than about achieving justice.

How can justice be served when victims are legally warned against working with the very institutions that are supposed to protect them?

The judiciary’s failure here is more than just procedural—it raises moral questions.

Magaya’s influence, both spiritual and political, has created a protective barrier around him.

His followers continue to support him, seeing his arrest as a divine test instead of a legal problem.

This loyalty, while understandable in a religious setting, becomes dangerous when it obstructs the rule of law.

The courts must prioritize fairness and accountability, regardless of a defendant’s popularity or status.

Furthermore, the lack of urgency in prosecuting high-profile figures like Magaya damages public trust.

Zimbabweans are tired of a system that seems to favor the powerful while neglecting the vulnerable.

Each delay, each loophole, and each unexplained silence erodes the credibility of our institutions.

The judiciary should be the final safeguard of fairness—when it fails, society itself starts to break down.

This case also reveals the systemic flaws in protecting victims.

Survivors of sexual violence already face significant psychological and social challenges.

When the legal system adds bureaucratic hurdles and fails to offer clear paths to justice, it effectively silences them.

The safeguarding notice, although perhaps well-intentioned, discourages victims from stepping forward.

It’s a clear sign that our laws must change not just to punish offenders but also to support survivors.

In the end, the Magaya case is not just about one person—it’s about the integrity of our justice system.

Will we allow charisma and power to overshadow accountability?

Or will we finally face the uncomfortable realities of how power functions in our courts?

If Zimbabwe is to progress, we must demand better from our judiciary.

Magaya’s defense team challenged his remand; they stated, “We refer you to the Constitution of Zimbabwe, which says any person not brought to court within 48 hours must be released immediately unless their detention is approved by a competent court.”

On the other hand, the State admitted to holding Magaya longer than necessary.

Transparency, speed, and fairness must become essential standards.

Until that happens, cases like Magaya’s will remain painful reminders of a system in dire need of reform.