Zimbabwe has ended talks on a proposed $367 million health funding agreement with the United States. The official reason? Sovereignty concerns and the sharing of “sensitive epidemiological and biological data.”
On the surface, that sounds principled. No country should casually surrender control over national data. Sovereignty matters. National security matters. Dignity matters.
But let’s ask a more uncomfortable question:
What exactly was being asked?
According to reporting, the agreement would have funded HIV/AIDS programmes, tuberculosis treatment, malaria control, maternal and child health services, and outbreak preparedness. In return, Zimbabwe would provide access to epidemiological data and biological resources, with the US requiring transparency on how funds were used.
That is not unusual.
Every major global health funding mechanism — whether from the World Bank, Global Fund, or bilateral partners — requires reporting, data transparency, monitoring and evaluation. Donors do not wire hundreds of millions of dollars into a system and hope for the best. They demand oversight.
So the debate is not whether Zimbabwe should protect its sovereignty.
The real debate is whether transparency is being framed as a threat.
If funds come with conditions that require clear reporting and data sharing, then those funds cannot quietly be absorbed into domestic political messaging. They must be acknowledged as externally financed programmes. They must be accounted for.
And that matters.
Because in a country where “Vision 2030” dominates the political narrative, development success is politically valuable. Infrastructure projects, stabilisation claims, growth projections — these are repeatedly highlighted as domestic achievements.
But donor-funded health programmes with strict reporting conditions are harder to brand as home-grown victories.
So we must ask:
Was this rejection truly about sovereignty?
Or about control — control of narrative, control of data, control of how development is credited?
Zimbabwe’s health sector remains fragile. Hospitals struggle. Clinics lack equipment. Healthcare workers continue to leave. Disease burdens remain high. $367 million over five years is not pocket change. It is life-saving funding.
If we reject it, what replaces it?
Is there an equivalent domestic health investment ready to fill the gap?
Or will sovereignty be defended while clinics quietly absorb the cost?
There is also a deeper irony.
Zimbabwe continues to borrow internationally for infrastructure. It negotiates with foreign creditors. It seeks entry into global economic blocs. It accepts investment tied to conditions. Sovereignty concerns rarely dominate those discussions.
Yet when health transparency is requested, suddenly sovereignty becomes paramount.
If sovereignty is the principle, it must be applied consistently — not selectively.
No one is suggesting Zimbabwe should sign unfair agreements. If the terms were genuinely asymmetrical, government should publish the draft and allow citizens to judge. Transparency should not only be demanded of donors. It should be practiced domestically.
But rejecting $367 million in health support without a clearly articulated alternative plan raises serious questions.
Politics can survive funding gaps.
Hospitals cannot.
Zimbabweans deserve clarity. If this was about protecting national interests, show the evidence. If it was about principle, explain the alternatives.
Because in the end, sovereignty is important.
But so is survival.