The announcement that US$10 million has been set aside for content creation in Zimbabwe has sparked both excitement and scepticism.
In a country grappling with currency volatility, underfunded public services, and widespread unemployment, the idea of investing millions into film, television and digital content feels to some, misplaced.
Yet dismissing the initiative outright would be intellectually lazy.
The more urgent question is not whether content creation deserves funding, but whether Zimbabwe’s economic and institutional framework can convert creative talent into real, sustainable value.
If this investment is treated as symbolism, it will fail. If treated as economic policy, it could quietly reshape livelihoods.
Zimbabwe’s economy is structurally constrained. Formal employment continues to shrink, and the majority of young people survive through informal work, short-term gigs and precarious hustles. Against this backdrop, the creative sector is not peripheral it is already a survival economy.
Content creation is labour-intensive, skills-driven and adaptable.
It does not rely heavily on imported machinery or massive infrastructure. More importantly, it operates in a global marketplace where physical borders matter less than intellectual property and distribution.
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Globally, countries that once dismissed the arts as “soft” sectors now recognise creative industries as legitimate contributors to GDP, exports and employment. Nigeria’s film and music industries did not emerge because the country had surplus money; they grew because policymakers understood that culture, when structured correctly, becomes commerce.
In that sense, a US$10 million allocation is not extravagant. It is modest by global standards. The danger lies not in the amount, but in how it is deployed.
Zimbabwe does not suffer from a shortage of creative talent. It suffers from a shortage of monetisation pathways.
Local musicians, filmmakers and digital creators produce content that competes aesthetically and creatively on international platforms. Yet most remain trapped in a cycle where visibility does not translate into income. Views, awards and acclaim rarely pay rent.
This is due to structural barriers such as limited access to global monetisation programmes, payment and payout restrictions, weak copyright enforcement, centralised broadcasting systems, minimal business and legal literacy among creatives.
Injecting US$10 million into production without fixing these constraints risks worsening the problem. More content will be made, but the same economic bottlenecks will ensure that wealth remains concentrated and precarious.
Any large funding initiative in Zimbabwe raises an uncomfortable but necessary question: who actually benefits?
If the money is primarily channelled through major broadcasters or a small circle of established producers, it will reinforce existing inequalities.
Urban, connected creatives will gain while township, rural and digital-first creators remain excluded.
This would mirror a familiar pattern in Zimbabwe’s economy resources announced in the name of the many, but accessed by the few.
For a creative fund to be economically defensible, it must be contestable, decentralised and transparent. Anything less turns public investment into cultural patronage rather than economic development.
Critics rightly point out that US$10 million could fund clinics, water infrastructure or schools. This argument deserves respect.
However, opportunity cost cuts both ways. Ignoring the creative economy also has a cost lost jobs, wasted talent, and continued dependence on shrinking traditional sectors.
The real policy failure would be to invest in content creation without demanding measurable economic outcomes. Creativity must not be funded as charity. It must be funded as an industry with expectations of return, employment and export growth.
For this initiative to be more than a headline, several policy shifts are non-negotiable.
First, monetisation must come before production.
Funding should prioritise access to markets distribution deals, regional syndication, streaming partnerships and digital revenue channels. Content without buyers is cultural noise, not economic output.
Secondly, funding must be competitive and inclusive.
Grants should be awarded through open calls, with clear criteria, regional balance and independent oversight. Creative hubs should not be symbolic buildings, but functional centres linked to markets.
Thirdly, creatives must be treated as entrepreneurs.
Training in contracts, pricing, intellectual property, tax compliance and platform economics is as important as cameras and studios. Without this, creators remain vulnerable to exploitation.
Fourth, public-private partnerships are essential.
Telecommunications companies, fintech firms and regional distributors must be brought into the ecosystem. Government alone cannot build a creative economy.
Zimbabwe stands at a familiar crossroads. It can treat the US$10 million as a political gesture a short-term boost to visibility with little long-term impact. Or it can treat it as a pilot for a new economic model rooted in intellectual property, youth employment and cultural exports.
The creative economy will not save Zimbabwe’s economy. But neither will ignoring it.
If policymakers understand that content creation is not about entertainment, but about ownership, markets and income, then this investment could quietly transform thousands of livelihoods.
If they do not, it will simply add to the long list of well-funded ideas that produced activity, but not prosperity.
The money has been announced.
The real test now is whether Zimbabwe has the courage to govern creativity like an industry not a favour.
- Raymond Millagre Langa is a Zimbabwean writer, cultural analyst and creative practitioner whose work sits at the intersection of public policy, the creative economy, and social critique. He is known for a sharp, grounded writing style that blends journalistic analysis with cultural insight, often interrogating how power, economics and identity shape everyday life in Zimbabwe.
