We should be cautious about what we choose to celebrate.
Zimbabweans have once again demonstrated a rare global distinction: the 2025 EF English Proficiency Index ranks the country second in Africa and 13th globally, sharing the spot with South Africa and outstripping nations like Poland and Greece.
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On the surface, this is cause for celebration, a recognition of Zimbabweans’ exceptional command of a global language.
Yet beneath this accolade lies a complex story of colonial inheritance, cultural negotiation, economic displacement, and generational shifts that reveal as much about the state of the nation as it does about its people.
English proficiency in Zimbabwe is both a triumph and a testament to historical pressures.
English is not merely a neutral tool of communication; it is a language of power, commerce, and opportunity — a direct legacy of colonial rule.
From the early 20th century, proficiency in English signaled access to education, employment, and social mobility.
Today, Zimbabweans continue to pursue mastery of the language, not solely out of preference but out of necessity, recognition, and survival in a world where English dominates business, diplomacy, and global discourse.
Being fluent is a badge of intelligence, capability, and modernity.
Those who struggle with English often face ridicule or social judgment, reflecting both the lingering colonial mindset that elevates the language and the cultural pressure to conform.
English is treated with respect and aspiration, yet it also exposes the inequalities in education and opportunity that persist in society.
This is why we often see top officials addressing rural communities, particularly the older generation, in English — a language many of them clearly do not fully understand — because it conveys authority, prestige, and a sense of sophistication even when comprehension is limited.
While mastery of English is undeniably important for global communication, commerce, and professional advancement, the singular focus on English proficiency risks marginalizing those who are less fluent but highly gifted.
Zimbabwe is full of creative minds and innovative thinkers whose brilliance may never reach a wider audience because they cannot articulate their ideas in English.
Consider the young man in a rural village with a practical idea to simplify the harvesting process, or a young woman inventing a recyclable sanitary product — their innovations could transform lives and livelihoods, yet if the ability to pitch ideas hinges on English fluency, their potential remains untapped.
Overvaluing English alone may inadvertently exclude the very Zimbabweans whose creativity and insight could drive meaningful change at home, leaving their talent unrecognized and underutilized.
Yet the proficiency ranking also highlights a bitter irony: Zimbabweans are among the most educated and linguistically capable populations in the world, yet the country itself fails to provide sufficient economic, professional, and social opportunities to match this talent.
High English proficiency is a reflection of human potential squandered by systemic mismanagement, underfunded institutions, and political dysfunction.
This skill is honed not just in classrooms, but in desperation, as many Zimbabweans migrate to the diaspora where fluency is essential for survival, livelihood, and social mobility.
The language of empire, once imposed, has become a lifeline for survival in a failed state.
This reality is intertwined with the lingering effects of colonial education and social conditioning.
Those of us who began school at independence in 1980, myself included, navigated “white schools,” where black children were a tiny minority, taught by white teachers, and living in predominantly white neighborhoods.
We were immersed in English academically and socially, yet we never attempted to “sound white.”
We spoke English fluently while continuing to use our mother tongues, Shona or Ndebele, in daily interactions.
Our identity as black Zimbabweans remained intact, even in environments dominated by whites.
Mastering English was never about imitation or self-denial; it was about competence and opportunity, while retaining pride in who we were.
In contrast, later generations, particularly those growing up after most whites left Zimbabwe, exhibit a noticeable preoccupation with sounding “Western,” a phenomenon often called “chisalala.”
This obsession signals a deeper social and psychological shift: fluency in English has been untethered from cultural grounding and identity.
Speaking like a Westerner is sometimes seen as aspirational or superior, even among a predominantly black population, reflecting a subtle internalized hierarchy where European speech patterns are prized over indigenous identity.
It is a quiet form of self-hate, an attempt to distance oneself from being unapologetically African, and a sign that the lessons of our generation — that one can excel in English without forsaking culture — are fading.
The diaspora compounds this problem.
Many Zimbabweans abroad focus exclusively on teaching their children English, often at the expense of their native languages.
These children grow up fluent but disconnected, unable to communicate fully with their heritage, their culture, or even their parents.
This contrasts sharply with the experiences of those of us who grew up in predominantly white neighborhoods: we became exceptionally proficient in English while remaining rooted in our languages, identities, and cultural knowledge.
English was a tool for communication and advancement, not a substitute for selfhood.
Today, we can boast mastery of both English and Shona, a dual capability that is both rare and profoundly Zimbabwean.
Taken together, Zimbabwe’s high English proficiency ranking is a double-edged mirror.
It celebrates the resilience, intelligence, and adaptability of Zimbabweans, yet also reflects the economic decay and structural failures that have forced many into exile.
It signals potential squandered, opportunity denied, and talent exported.
Zimbabweans are capable of competing globally, yet they are trapped in a domestic environment that frequently undervalues, underutilizes, or drives that talent away.
English proficiency is simultaneously a mark of distinction and a symptom of necessity, a skill perfected to survive a system that fails to nurture its own people.
This paradox is stark.
The world sees Zimbabweans as globally literate, articulate, and capable, yet at home, the structures needed to transform these skills into tangible development are weak or absent.
Schools, businesses, and governance systems do not fully leverage the human capital that exists.
Opportunities abroad demand English, while opportunities at home are often limited by economic mismanagement, political patronage, and a lack of investment in domestic growth.
The very proficiency that could fuel national prosperity instead facilitates migration and survival elsewhere.
Ultimately, the EF EPI ranking is not just a number or a measure of linguistic skill; it is a reflection of history, resilience, and paradox.
It celebrates a people who can compete with the world while trapped in a nation that has not created the conditions for their excellence to flourish.
It reminds us that Zimbabweans are capable, adaptable, and intelligent, yet that colonial legacies, economic decay, and generational shifts in identity continue to shape both the opportunities they can access and the choices they make.
Zimbabweans can master the language of empire while remaining African, proud, and grounded — but only if the lessons of the past are heeded, if culture is preserved, and if systemic failures at home are finally addressed.
TENDAI RUBEN MBOFANA - THE UN-OPPRESSED MIND! 