Gilbert Machokoto, a former teacher, said that setting up a business in the late 1980s, shortlyafter Zimbabwe’s independence, was ‘like hunting with your bare hands’. It took a lot ofperseverance before he managed, at the age of 35, to set up a transport business with a smalltruck, taking goods from farms to market. This was a novelty at the time, when all thesuccessful businessmen in the country were white, and black entrepreneurs were limited toretail shops in black communities and petrol stations. Obtaining bank loans was virtuallyimpossible for those without collateral.Initially, Machokoto’s new business failed due to a lack of resources, but his efforts paid offafter a few years. He bought a bigger cross-border truck, and then several trucks. This earnedhim the nickname ‘Boss’ in his community. ‘ Back then, when the doors closed in front ofme, I was bitter and angry,’ he recalls. ‘But I took it as a period of learning.Some of Zimbabwe’s wealthiest people, often referred to as ‘mbingas’ because of their tastefor luxury, are said to have benefited greatly from state-sponsored looting, facilitated by theirclose links to the ruling ZANU-PF party, writes Mukudzei Madenyika for AfricanArguments.During the early days of post-independence economic empowerment policies, blackbusinessmen were initially favoured, but the system gradually turned into patronage.Transparency was overshadowed by political patronage, as ruling party loyalists obtainedmost of the funds, sidelining independents.A number of people very close to the government, including Wicknell Chivayo and DelishNguwaya, benefited from public contracts, often without fulfilling their contractualobligations, as the scandals surrounding unpaid infrastructure have shown. Their wealth hasbeen sustained by a deep-rooted system of clientelism and political loyalty, despite numerousallegations and public outcry.