A failed leader can’t stop looting because he needs to buy loyalty

It’s time we confront a question that has long troubled many.

Why is it that some leaders are so shamelessly corrupt, to the extent that they simply cannot stop looting national resources?

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This is a question on the minds of many people who have watched, in stunned disbelief, as a sitting head of state appears to have absolutely no moral restraint when it comes to plundering a country’s wealth.

Yes, corruption exists in nearly every country across the globe—but there is always that one individual who takes it to a whole new level.

A leader whose appetite for wealth seems boundless.

A man whose greed leaves citizens in awe, not for his greatness, but for his extraordinary capacity to loot without even a hint of shame or remorse.

People ask themselves: doesn’t he ever get satisfied?

One would naturally assume that if a leader looted, say, $1 million, he would eventually be satisfied.

That amount alone, if invested wisely, could secure a life of comfort for himself and his family for generations.

But disturbingly, some leaders never seem to reach that point of satisfaction.

They keep looting—into the billions—as if driven by an endless, insatiable greed.

To be clear, this is not to justify corruption or the plundering of resources meant for national development and the upliftment of citizens’ livelihoods.

It is simply to highlight the irrational nature of their greed, which defies even selfish logic.

Here we are, watching as billions upon billions of dollars vanish through one devious scheme after another.

It’s as though he’s trapped in a cycle of endless looting—unable or unwilling to stop.

But why?

What drives such extreme and compulsive theft?

Some might liken it to kleptomania—a recognized psychological condition where individuals have an uncontrollable urge to steal, even when there is no financial necessity or logical reason to do so.

In Shona, we would say such a person “ane shavi rekuba”—someone possessed by the spirit of theft, who can even steal a useless rock from a neighbor’s yard simply because they are unable to resist the urge.

But I don’t believe the leaders we are talking about suffer from a mental health condition.

No.

This is something else entirely.

This is calculated, deliberate, and strategic looting.

What we are witnessing is not merely a case of individual greed—but a survival mechanism for a failed and deeply unpopular leader.

This is someone who is painfully aware that he is unwanted, unloved, and resented by the very people he claims to lead.

He knows, very well, that his hold on power is tenuous at best.

His legitimacy is questioned even by those within his own political camp.

He may have been imposed upon the nation—through manipulated elections, party purges, or military interference—but he was never truly chosen by the people.

And so, every day he wakes up in a state of panic—terrified of losing the one thing that gives him a sense of purpose: power.

To survive in such an environment, a failed leader must buy loyalty—literally.

He must pay to stay in power.

He must secure the allegiance of military generals who could easily stage a coup if they felt abandoned.

To survive internal threats, he must placate fellow senior party and government officials who may be plotting behind his back.

Silencing judges, bribing electoral commissioners, and even compromising opposition leaders—all become necessary tactics.

In other words, he must constantly lubricate the corrupt machinery that props him up.

This is a very expensive exercise.

Think about it.

If each of these actors—army generals, judges, ministers, commissioners, and shadowy allies—demands their own cut of the pie just to continue pledging loyalty, how much does that come to every month?

A million dollars? Maybe more.

And that’s not even counting the millions needed to fund disinformation campaigns, buy votes, and grease the palms of foreign allies willing to whitewash his regime on the global stage.

All of this requires a bottomless slush fund.

And so, the looting continues—nonstop and ever-escalating.

He must keep the money flowing, not only for bribes but also to prepare for his own exit, should that day come.

In the back of his mind, there is always the possibility that the tide will turn against him.

The people may one day rise up.

The military might switch sides.

A party rebellion might finally succeed.

When that happens, he needs to be ready—to flee the country with enough wealth stashed away in foreign bank accounts, hidden mansions, offshore companies, and safe-haven investments that can fund a life of exile.

That’s why you see these shadowy networks of looting spring up like mushrooms.

There are shady partnerships between the state and suspicious foreign “investors,” who are handed access to lucrative resources under opaque terms.

National assets are sold off in sweetheart deals.

State-owned companies are deliberately run down, only to be “rescued” by cronies whose loyalty lies with the leader, not the country.

Shell companies are registered in the names of close family and trusted allies—used as fronts to secure inflated government tenders and loot national resources in broad daylight.

It’s all part of the same strategy: loot, pay, survive.

And so we return to the question: why does he never seem to have enough?

The answer is devastatingly simple.

He can’t afford to stop looting.

His entire presidency depends on it.

His very survival rests on the money he needs to bribe his way through every crisis, to buy silence, to suppress resistance, and to engineer another day in power.

This isn’t just greed—it’s a political strategy.

A failed leader, who has no popular mandate, no moral authority, and no meaningful legacy to leave behind, can only stay in office through fear, manipulation, and money.

What’s more, because this kind of leader knows that time is running out, the plundering becomes more aggressive as the years pass.

The longer he overstays, the more he must steal to secure his future.

He’s not building a nation—he’s building a golden escape tunnel.

In the end, it’s the ordinary citizens who suffer.

Their hospitals collapse.

Their children go to school without books.

Their salaries are worth less with each passing day.

They lack for water and electricity—and hope.

While the leader builds mansions in foreign capitals, they patch up their homes with plastic sheets.

While he dines on caviar and champagne, they go to bed hungry.

And still, he wants more. Still, he continues to loot.

No, this is not kleptomania. This is not a mental illness.

This is the cold, calculated reality of a failed leader whose grip on power depends on corruption.

He cannot stop looting—because in his world, to stop is to fall.

And for him, falling is not an option.