HARARE — When legal heavyweights Professor Lovemore Madhuku and Tendai Biti joined forces to sue the police, Zimbabweans expected a landmark constitutional battle that would redefine the limits of state power. Instead, the High Court has struck the case off the “urgent roll,” leaving the applicants in a judicial limbo that many critics argue is a calculated stalling tactic by the state. This decision, handed down by Justice Pisirayi Kwenda on 17 April 2026, has ignited a fierce debate over whether the judiciary is truly independent or merely a cog in a machine designed to suppress dissent.
The lawsuit was not merely a dispute over paperwork; it was a response to what the applicants described as a “barbaric” and “sadistic” campaign of state-sponsored violence. At the heart of the matter is the Constitution of Zimbabwe Amendment (No. 3) Bill, 2026, a controversial piece of legislation gazetted on 16 February 2026. The bill proposes extending presidential and parliamentary terms from five to seven years, a move that would effectively allow President Emmerson Mnangagwa to remain in office until at least 2030, bypassing the current two-term limit.
The Anatomy of an Assault
Professor Lovemore Madhuku, a renowned constitutional lawyer and leader of the National Constitutional Assembly (NCA), provided a harrowing account of the violence that prompted the legal action. In his founding affidavit, Madhuku detailed an incident on 1 March 2026, at Bumbiro House in central Harare, which serves as both his law firm and the NCA headquarters. As members gathered for what was described as a private meeting to discuss the amendment bill, the premises were besieged.
“As we were about to start our meeting, I was alerted to persons breaking the gate to the entrance demanding to gain entry into the premises,” Madhuku stated in his court papers. He encountered five men wearing balaclavas who immediately singled him out. “They started saying that I was giving them problems. They then started to beat me with truncheons all over my body.”
The description of the attack was chillingly vivid. “The beating lasted for about ten minutes. The beating was severe, savage, and sadistic. It was intrinsically barbaric. It appears as if I was being assaulted by zombies,” Madhuku said. Most damningly, he alleged that police officers stationed outside the building did nothing to intervene as the gate was smashed and the assault unfolded. “From the broken gate, I could see that the Police could see and hear that I was being beaten. Either our assailants were Police officers or their accomplices. I find the acts and omissions of the police quite reprehensible.”
A Pattern of Suppression
Tendai Biti, the former Finance Minister and a fierce critic of the ruling ZANU-PF, joined the application, alleging a similar pattern of police interference. Biti pointed to a meeting scheduled for 28 February at the Zimbabwe Women’s Bureau in Harare, which was blocked by the police despite what he claimed was proper notification. “I have no doubt that what the Police are doing is to prevent me and others from discussing the Constitution of Zimbabwe (Amendment) No. 3 Bill, 2026,” Biti alleged in his supporting affidavit.
The police, represented by the Minister of Home Affairs and the Commissioner-General of the Zimbabwe Republic Police (ZRP), have consistently leaned on the Maintenance of Peace and Order Act (MOPA) to justify their actions. However, Madhuku and Biti argue that their meetings were private gatherings on private property, which under Zimbabwean law do not require police notification. “In terms of the Maintenance of Peace and Order Act, we were not obliged to notify the police of the meeting. Bumbiro House is a private place and our meeting was not a public gathering,” Madhuku argued.
The authorities appear to be using “legal technicalities” to avoid a public debate on the right to protest and police brutality. By challenging the “urgency” of the application rather than the substance of the allegations, the state successfully pushed the matter onto the ordinary roll, where cases can languish for years.
What ‘Struck Off the Urgent Roll’ Really Means
To the average citizen, the phrase “struck off the urgent roll” might sound like a final dismissal, but in legal terms, it is more of a strategic delay. It means the judge did not find the matter pressing enough to jump the queue of thousands of other pending cases. For Madhuku and Biti, however, this decision is seen as a “death knell” for immediate opposition activism.
The legal strategy employed by the police is often viewed as a way to create a “political martyr” narrative or simply to exhaust the resources and morale of the opposition. If a case is not heard while the issue is still relevant—in this case, during the 90-day public consultation period for the constitutional amendment—the eventual ruling becomes academic. By the time a judge might rule that the police acted unlawfully, the constitution may have already been changed, and the term extension secured.
Alec Muchadehama, the veteran human rights lawyer representing the duo, expressed frustration at the ruling. “Judgement has been handed down and the matter was removed from the urgent roll,” Muchadehama confirmed. “We want to appeal but we are waiting for a full judgement because now we do not know the reasons for his decision as yet.”
The Intersection of Law and Power
The Madhuku and Biti case is not an isolated incident but part of a broader, more systemic crackdown on dissent in Zimbabwe. Human rights organisations have documented a sharp increase in state-sponsored intimidation since 2024. Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have both issued urgent calls for investigations into the “brutal attack” on Madhuku, with Amnesty’s Lucia Masuka stating, “This violent attack is a blatant violation of the rights to personal security, freedom of expression, and peaceful assembly.”
This environment of fear is reminiscent of the “Avondale 78” incident in June 2024, where over 70 opposition activists were arrested at the home of Jameson Timba. Many of those activists spent months in remand prison without bail, accused of gathering to plan protests. The message from the state is clear: even private gatherings are subject to the whim of the security forces.
The “conspiracy” alleged by many in the legal fraternity is that the judiciary has been “captured” to serve the interests of the executive. When high-profile lawyers like Madhuku and Biti—men who know the law inside out—cannot get an urgent hearing after being beaten in their own offices, the “system” appears to have been perfectly calibrated to ensure the state always wins.
A Chilling Future for Activism
The “hidden details” of this judicial setback suggest a grim future for those who wish to challenge the status quo. If the courts refuse to treat state-sponsored violence as an urgent matter, the constitutional protections for freedom of assembly and personal security become little more than ink on paper.
The use of “shadowy groups” and men in balaclavas—whom Madhuku described as “zombies”—provides the state with a thin layer of deniability. If the police can claim they didn’t know who the attackers were, and the courts refuse to hear the case urgently, the victims are left with no recourse. This creates a vacuum where the rule of law is replaced by the rule of force.
As Zimbabwe moves closer to the 2028 elections and the potential implementation of the Amendment No. 3 Bill, the Madhuku and Biti lawsuit stands as a testament to the narrowing of the democratic space. The “mystery” of why the High Court struck the case off is perhaps no mystery at all to those who have watched the steady erosion of judicial independence over the past decade. It is a compelling, if tragic, look at how law is used not to protect the citizen, but to shield the powerful.
For now, Madhuku and Biti remain hospitalised or in recovery, their legal challenge relegated to the slow-moving gears of the ordinary court roll. The “landmark constitutional battle” has been deferred, and in the silence that follows, the work of amending the constitution continues unabated.