Just like many others political mavericks before him, they all thought they were invincible, drunk as a lord by the maddening power of high political office.
From a dancing Ndombolo music star, Mutodi dressed to the nines like a peacock in multicolored apparel.
He rose to an influential position as an under minister in the Ministry of Information, Publicity and Broadcasting Services.
Yes! A deputy in corridors once graced by bright minds like Professor Jonathan Moyo and George Charamba. Presumably he had crossed the Rubicon.
I would assume those before him set the bar high. Mutodi had too big shoes to fill.
Showbiz's dingy nightclubs and high political office are forever as different as night is from day. The latter requires a good measure of compassion, sensitivity, cunningness and a polished appeal that resonates with the masses. It is not shooting fish in a barrel.
Mutodi lacked everything and boasted of a PHD qualification that exposed him than it saved him.
Twitter became his playground pitting himself into battles he would have avoided.
For a government communicator, the vitriol, shallowness political bickering he spewed from his fingers proved he was a Johny come-lately in politics.
Those in the trenches would have known better.
A Mutodi anywhere would not have survived a battle with a soldier- cum- coup announcer, Foreign Affairs Minister SB Moyo. It is preposterous to even think that.
Neither would he afford a confrontation with Monica Mutsvangwa, his senior Minister and confirmed government operative her life. She would have, given half a chance, gladly guided little Mutodi's hand, just like the Biblical Peter when Jesus walked on water.
In that unfortunate battle, he drew in Chris Mutsvangwa, the husband claiming the couple had taken over the day -to- day running the Ministry of Information.Mutsvangwa is a tried and tested politician and Mutodi would be a minion ready for pulverization to borrow from Mutsvangwa' s very own enduring love for big expletives.
Mutodi with all his much-vaunted academic prowess failed to see he was just a weakling in these precarious political waters serving at the benevolence of the appointing authority, President Munangagwa.
Meanwhile, the rumourmill has been in overdrive as to where he is, why he was given the boot?
But even for the most celebrated village fool, it was apparent Mutodi was a good for nothing snappy dresser, let alone a diligent government functionary.
He loved the good life too posting pictures of himself in vast expanses of his yard over yonder in the suburbs having cold beers, proof of living large when even the inveterate Harare drunk finds it a tall order to afford the most rudimentary opaque beer in a struggling economy.
The wheels came off when he tweeted alleging the MDC-A abducted three, Netsai Marova, Celia Chimbiri and Johanna Mamombe were faking abduction when they were having jolly good fun with artisanal mining boyfriends at night.
That broke the camels back and his demise was writ in black and white. Aha! In a world that is fast putting women's concerns to the fore, even President Munangagwa could not carry deadweight on his team.
Already, he is at pains to polish Zimbabwe's human rights record albeit with monumental setbacks as abductions, policy inconsistencies keep recurring time and again.
Mutodi had to dance. He did, like a rhumba star he always has been.
Now the hunt is on, we hear his fate in Zanu -PF structures has been thrown out the window in Mashonaland East. He has been the Member of Parliament for Goromonzi, a seat he got on a silver platter not for his political prowess, academic good but simply because the main opposition fielded two candidates creating confusion. In the end Mutodi wrote home, he had finally arrived in the city, Harare.
Suddenly we hear, his house witnessed a burglary with him loosing a coterie of fancy outfits. True or not, it's proof Zanu-PF hounds it's own children when they misbehave. It is like the secret service, once in, always in, there is never peace.
Zimbabwe has seen this narrative before. Those who have fallen out of favour with the governing party have never known peace. There was Joyce Mujuru, persecuted and demonised like a devil incarnate with rumours of traditional medicine men walking about naked in efforts to help her spite her perceived political foes.
There was Bhasikiti in the 'wrong basket'.There was Rugare Gumbo who was portrayed as a wily- fox who has always wanted Robert Mugabe dead since the colonial war in the bushes of Mozambique.
We even saw this narrative on the erstwhile President Munangagwa himself who had to run for dear life via Mozambique clutching a Luis Vuitton carry bag laden with God-Knows-what with the help of his three sons when Zanu PF goons bayed for his bones.
The President's exit from Helensvale one evening is a riveting story. No one is bigger than Zanu-PF!
Playing out now before our eyes is the story of Concorpia Citrus Farm in Mazowe previously owned Saviour kasukuwere. He is fast losing control of the farm despite that before he jumped ship, he was a firebrand cabinet minister and Zanu PF party political commissar- a -to -die for political post in charge of mobilisation and running elections.
On the other hand Mugabe nephew Patrick Zhuwao and former information Minister Professor Jonathan Moyo lost all their farms in a purported land redistribution excercise that tagerted their farms they had heavily invested in previously.
There are innumerable cases of Zanu PF stars running helter-skelter when it is payback time. Top officials step on banana skins suddenly finding themselves skidding with nothing to clutch on.
Mutodi, is simply an episode in a long running soapie series. Contemporary main actors should not think they are above and beyond ridicule and downfall. Mugabe too learnt the hard way. In most instances it is victor's justice where losers start answering to long forgotten crimes committed.
Zanu PF is a game of thrones and meanwhile we await Mutodi's comeback. He surely will. And his silence says exactly what needs to be heard. The clever ones watch from the terraces while his former colleagues take notes.
Josiah Mucharowana is a media graduate and writes in his personal capacity. Feedback; email@example.com
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