Published: 15 hours ago

In the hallowed halls of academia, a doctorate stands as a towering monument to intellectual endurance, sleepless nights, existential crises, and a few thousand cups of coffee brewed stronger than most relationships. In Zimbabwe, however, a new form of doctorate has emerged - not grounded in research or professional rigor, but rather in the noble art of fabrication. A bold, brash doctorate for the terminally underqualified but terminally ambitious. Call it the Doctor of Pretendology (Dr.P) - Zimbabwe's fastest-growing academic epidemic.

Forget PhDs, MDs, JDs, or even the respectable honorary degrees granted by actual universities. Enter the Doctor of Dandemutande - conferred via WhatsApp group consensus, awarded by non-existent universities, and printed on laserjet printers fueled by ego and ignorance.

Leading this parade of intellectual impostors are the usual suspects: Dr. Kuda Tagwirei, Dr. Killer Zivhu, Dr. Walter Mzembi, Dr. Delish Nguwaya - names that send chills down the spines of real scholars, who spent years breaking their backs only to have their titles hijacked by men who couldn't spell "dissertation" without divine intervention.

These men are not doctors in the traditional sense. No thesis was written, no viva endured, and certainly no research committee ever rubber-stamped their doctoral dreams. Instead, their degrees were plucked from the vines of self-delusion and fermented in the barrels of borrowed prestige. One wonders if their doctoral hoods were tailored by Gucci or delivered via DHL from a dubious "University of Excellence" located behind a Chicken Inn in downtown Harare.

Make no mistake: this is not satire. This is Zimbabwe in 2025.

The Great Academic Robbery:

Doctorates, for centuries, were the final frontier of scholarship. A Doctor of Philosophy (PhD) signifies that one has contributed new knowledge to humanity. But in Zimbabwe, the only knowledge being contributed is the art of shameless self-promotion. It is as though the moment you steal enough fuel, rig enough tenders, or post enough TikTok videos, you unlock a new academic level: "Congratulations! You are now a Doctor of Loot."

It would be laughable if it weren't so grotesque. When "Dr." Nguwaya - with no known academic background beyond Facebook Live monologues - receives a "doctorate in philanthropy," one must ask: where is the philanthropy? What exactly was studied? Did he write a thesis titled "The Role of Imported Hospital Beds in Nation Building"?

These degrees aren't honorary - they're horrific.

The Third Kind of Doctorate:

In the academic world, there are two main kinds of doctorates: Research and Professional. But in Zimbabwe, we have pioneered a third: the Transactional Doctorate. This is awarded not for knowledge gained, but for networks exploited. A doctorate that rewards corruption disguised as leadership, where the only dissertation written is on the back of a brown envelope.

This new degree doesn't require research, only receipts - mostly from offshore accounts. It doesn't require supervision, only political protection. And viva? The only "viva" is the new V8 Land Cruiser bought after a dubious gold deal.

They have invented a degree where the library is the bank, the seminar is a press conference, and peer review is replaced with political praise-singing.

Academia for Sale: The Rise of Degree Cartels
This isn't just a national embarrassment - it's a full-blown black-market economy. Dubious institutions with names like "Commonwealth International University of Peace and Unity" and "Global Excellence Leadership Academy" spring up overnight like mushrooms after a rain of mediocrity. Their websites sparkle with stock photos of happy graduates in borrowed gowns, offering degrees in everything from "Transformational Leadership" to "Visionary Empowerment."

They prey on the powerful but insecure - the man with millions but no credentials, the woman with clout but no coursework. These fake degrees are more than vanity projects - they're status weapons. In a nation where titles open doors, "Dr." is the golden key. It says: respect me, fear me, give me the tender.

Meanwhile, Real Doctors Suffer:

While fake doctors collect awards and address conferences on topics they barely understand, real PhDs sit unemployed. Real medical doctors go months without pay. Professors who spent decades in labs and lecture halls are ignored in favor of a flamboyant tenderpreneur with a doctorate in "Strategic Empowerment from the United Pan-African Leadership Initiative of West Indiana."

The irony? These fake doctors, in their tailored suits and tinted Prados, would not last five minutes in a real academic defense. Ask them to define epistemology, and they'll accuse you of witchcraft.

Stealing Titles, Stealing Truth:

Zimbabwe's fake doctorate craze is not just about fraud. It's about a deeper disease: the theft of aspiration. These impostors do not just steal titles - they steal dreams. They teach young Zimbabweans that you don't have to work, research, or learn. You just have to be connected. That knowledge is not earned - it is downloaded via political favoritism and pseudo-ceremonial showmanship.

This is not just academic theft. It is cultural vandalism.

A National Detox Is Overdue:

We need a national database of accredited doctorates. A degree vetting commission. Public shaming, even. Let's start with a simple test: if you can't name your supervisor, defend your thesis, or describe your research methodology - congratulations, you're not a doctor. You're just Dr. Delusion.

We need satire. We need memes. We need mock graduation ceremonies where these fake doctors receive fake diplomas wrapped in newspaper and old bond notes. We need to make ignorance as unfashionable as fake Gucci.

Final Prescription: Academic Humility:

To those who parade fake titles, here's your prognosis: the only cure is honesty. Return your fake diplomas. Remove the title. Leave "Dr." to those who have actually read books thicker than your bank statements.

Knowledge is not a costume. You can't wear it like a Rolex. You earn it - with sweat, discipline, and curiosity. Until then, spare us the charade.

Because in Zimbabwe, we don't need more doctors of nothing. We need more thinkers of something.
- Reason Wafawarova