By Correspondent
Every year, Zimfest seems to reinvent itself.
Not with grand declarations or sweeping rebrands but through quiet evolution. It adapts to a changing audience without losing sight of the community that built it. That ability to remain familiar while never standing still, is why the UK’s largest celebration of Southern African culture has become more than a festival. It has become a tradition.
In the aftermath of last year’s noise, fuelled in part by rumours, speculation and conversations that often travelled faster than the facts, it would have been understandable for the organisers to retreat, to play it safe or simply focus on preserving what already existed.
Rather than feeding into the rumours, Zimfest expanded its horizons. The festival felt designed not only for Zimbabweans longing for a taste of home, but for families, friends and curious newcomers from every background who wanted to understand why this event has become such a fixture in the British summer calendar.
That ambition mattered. At a time when division often feels louder than togetherness, Zimfest once again reminded everyone that culture has an extraordinary way of dissolving invisible borders. Politics may create distance but music, food, dance and shared experience continue to do what speeches rarely can – they bring people together.
For years now, the festival has consistently welcomed crowds of over 15,000 people but perhaps the most remarkable statistic isn’t the number itself. It’s who makes up that number.
Zimbabweans stood shoulder to shoulder with people from across Africa, the Caribbean, Europe and beyond. Some came because they grew up with sungura, dancehall or gospel. Others came because a friend insisted they experience it once. Many will undoubtedly return.
That’s how festivals become movements, one first-time visitor at a time.
The soundtrack of a community
If festivals are measured by their stages, then Zimfest once again proved why its musical programming has become one of its defining features.
There is a confidence in the way it pairs established stars with emerging talent. It never feels like nostalgia competing with the future. Instead, each generation complements the next and few artists embody that better than Tsungai Tsikirai.
She is no stranger to the Zimfest stage, yet somehow every appearance feels like a debut. Equal parts elegance and power, she carries herself with the poise of someone entirely at ease in front of thousands. A queen in spirit and a queen on stage, Tsungai has mastered the rare art of familiarity without predictability.
Each performance offers something new while reminding audiences exactly why they fell in love with her in the first place.
Then there was Sulu Chimbetu. Between almost every song came his familiar, softly spoken “Thank you so much.” It has become something of a signature, but on Saturday, if anyone deserved the gratitude, it was him.
In an era when artists often chase spectacle, Sulu reminded everyone that musicianship still matters. His catalogue needs no elaborate production to command attention. Song after song, he held the audience through warmth, humility and an unmistakable connection to one of Zimbabwe’s richest musical legacies, sungura.
Sometimes the loudest ovation belongs to the artist who asks for the least.
Tamy Moyo reminded everyone why her return to Zimfest is always welcomed with open arms.
There is an infectious energy about her performances that lingers long after the final note fades. She has become one of those artists who understands that entertaining is about more than singing. It’s about creating moments that people carry home with them. Her warmth, charisma and effortless command of the stage once again left audiences smiling long after she had departed.
Every festival also needs discovery
This year, that honour belonged to Delroy and Jnr Spragga.
For those already familiar with their work, Saturday merely confirmed what they already knew. For everyone else, introductions were quickly followed by admiration. They brought freshness, confidence and the kind of hunger that every established festival needs if it is to remain relevant. If many in the crowd arrived not knowing their names, they almost certainly left remembering them.
The return of the soldier
Some headliners perform for a crowd, Jah Prayzah performs with one.
Returning to top the bill after several years away, there was never any sense of reacquaintance.
His catalogue is now deep enough to span generations of listeners and his set reflected exactly that. Classics were greeted like old friends, newer songs received with equal enthusiasm. There were few moments when the audience wasn’t singing every word back to him.
Beside him stood his band, Third Generation, not simply as backing musicians but as performers in their own right. Their harmonies, disciplined choreography and relentless energy transformed every song into theatre. Precision never came at the expense of feeling; every dance move, every vocal and every instrumental break served the music rather than overshadowed it.
Jah Prayzah didn’t simply perform songs. He took thousands of people on a journey.Those are the moments no livestream can truly capture.
The beat of a new generation
One of Zimfest’s smartest decisions in recent years has been recognising that culture never stands still.
The continued growth of the Piano Republik stage reflects that understanding perfectly.
Amapiano is no longer simply a South African genre. It has become a global soundtrack, embraced across continents and generations, and Zimfest deserves credit for recognising that younger audiences wanted more than one musical experience.
In the months leading up to this year’s festival, conversations around South African artists became increasingly heated in some corners, with some even questioning whether the amapiano stage should feature at all.
Saturday provided the clearest answer. Not through arguments but through dancing and a shared appreciation of music.
Headliners, DBN Gogo, Lee McKrazy and Scotts Maphuma transformed the tent into a celebration that transcended nationality. When Biri Marung dropped, nobody seemed interested in passports or politics. They were interested in dancing.
Even those who arrived convinced they were “too old for amapiano” found themselves attempting the choreography by the end of each set. Good music has a habit of making everyone feel 21 again.
That tent wasn’t simply about amapiano. It was about joy.
Growing pains
No event welcoming thousands of people escapes logistical challenges, and Zimfest was no exception.
Residents around Far Cotton understandably experienced disruption, with traffic management proving a source of frustration for many.
Large-scale festivals inevitably leave an imprint on their host communities and organisers will no doubt reflect on lessons that can improve future editions.
Acknowledging those concerns need not diminish what the festival achieved. If anything, it speaks to Zimfest’s continued growth. Success brings bigger crowds and bigger crowds demand ever more thoughtful planning.
The challenge now is ensuring the festival continues to strengthen its relationship with the community that hosts it.
More than a festival
Events like Zimfest do not thrive on ticket sales alone. Behind every stage, every performance and every smiling family are organisations willing to invest in something greater than a single weekend.
Nyaradzo Group, Mukuru, Diaspora Insurance, Remitly, Taptap Send, EcoCash, WorldRemit, Express Links, InnBucks Direct and MyHippoStore are the partnerships that help make this celebration possible and their continued investment in our communities allow Zimfest to keep growing year after year.
A glowing legacy
As we celebrate everything the festival has become, it is also fitting to remember one of the people who helped make it possible.
The late Hilton Mendelsohn was among Zimfest’s founding visionaries. His belief that Zimbabwean culture deserved a platform of this scale has grown into something few could have imagined in those early days. Seeing thousands gather once again was not simply a tribute to today’s organisers, volunteers and performers, it was a continuation of the legacy he helped create. That legacy is alive.
Beyond the headlines
When the stages are dismantled and the final traffic cones disappear, Zimfest leaves behind something no headline can fully capture.
It leaves conversations between strangers. Children discovering traditions that belong to them. Friends reunited after years apart. It leaves sore feet, lost voices and phones full of videos that never quite do the atmosphere justice.
There will always be rumours. There will always be opinions. Large cultural events inevitably attract both but they are fleeting.
What endures is far more powerful. A festival that has never been afraid to evolve. A community that continues to grow. A celebration that welcomes anyone willing to embrace it.
Every year, people say Zimfest has entered a new chapter. The truth is, it has been writing a remarkable story for decades. This year’s edition was simply its latest and perhaps one of its finest chapters.
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