By Velaphi Mamba.

Each year, from January to March, our country slows to a near standstill under the weight of the Buganu ceremony.

It is as if everything goes into slow motion mode across both the public and corporate sectors. What is presented as a celebration of culture and national identity has, in practice, evolved into a prolonged period of reduced productivity, blurred institutional focus, and significant public expenditure with unclear national returns. Once the final festivities conclude and the public holiday passes – marked less by reflection and more by wanton opulence and indulgence – the country is left with a fundamental question in relation to what tangible value has been created. What empirical evidence and data-based outcomes do we see that justify the costs of the ceremony?

Cultural expression is an essential pillar of national identity, social cohesion, and historical continuity.

No serious argument or person can seek to erase or undermine that even as I have argued before that drinking buganu is not necessarily a part of our culture as a nation. The real concern lies in the scale, prioritization, and economic trade-offs embedded in how these ceremonies are currently structured and funded through taxpayers money.

Ours is a small developing country with pressing socio-economic challenges that the government of the day should be prioritizing. Instead, it allocates millions annually to recurring cultural festivities without any demonstrable value for money. 

The argument therefore is that the country must be able to empirically illustrate measurable benefits that justify both the financial and the opportunity costs of these events.

The Buganu season imposes a systemic disruption that extends beyond the ceremonial grounds where the festivities are held. Civil servants, who form the backbone of public service delivery, are often drawn into weeks of preparation and participation. 

Corporate entities mirror this slowdown, as workforce energy and attention shift toward cultural obligations.

The cumulative effect is a decline in productivity across sectors, delayed service delivery, and a general stagnation in economic activity during a critical quarter of the year.

In a country already grappling with unemployment, inequality, and slow growth, such inefficiencies are massive and they compound existing structural weaknesses. By contrast, during this period other countries are hard at work driving national development and prioritizing citizen’s socio-economic needs.

Why must our country be focused on alcohol and sex orgies?

Proponents of the ceremony argue that the Buganu festival serves as a tourism driver and a unifying national experience. These claims, while intuitively appealing, remain largely unsubstantiated by credible data.

There is little publicly available evidence demonstrating that the revenues generated from tourism during this period offset the costs incurred. Nor is there any rigorous analyses showing that the event meaningfully strengthens social cohesion in a way that translates into long-term stability or economic resilience. 

Without such data, the justification for sustained or increased spending becomes speculative at best and worse quite nonsensical.

This lack of accountability raises deeper governance concerns that this nation must deal with openly.

Public funds are finite, and every allocation reflects a set of priorities. The country cannot have millions directed toward ceremonial activities without a transparent and rigorous cost-benefit analysis. Such policy practices signal a misalignment between state spending and national development goals. 

It suggests a governance system that is more invested in symbolic displays than in measurable progress and pro-poor national economic development.

In this context, the Buganu ceremony becomes less about culture and more about the political economy of distraction where spectacle substitutes for substance.

I believe that the country must focus on the latter and discard the former.

The opportunity cost of this spending is immense as the entire public machinery is directed to spend both funds and time on a ceremony that hinges on consumption rather than production. Redirecting even a portion of the funds currently devoted to the ceremony could catalyse transformative initiatives. 

Youth unemployment remains one of the most pressing challenges in our country. 

Strategic investment in entrepreneurship programs, seed funding for small businesses, and the establishment of innovation hubs could unlock productive potential among young people. 

These are ideas that are proven pathways to job creation and economic diversification in comparable economies.

Similarly, targeted industrialization programs could lay the foundation for sustainable growth. 

By investing in sectors with high employment multipliers such as agro-processing, manufacturing, and digital services the country could begin to shift from consumption-driven activity to production-led development. Such a transition requires capital, policy support, and institutional focus – all of which are undermined when resources are consistently diverted to non-productive expenditures.

It also requires a paradigm shift and strong political will based on a vision aligned to the broader interests of our people.  

Social protection is another area where reallocation could yield immediate and meaningful benefits. Expanding support for elderly grants, improving healthcare access, and strengthening education systems would directly enhance the quality of life for citizens. 

These are investments that generate long-term returns by building human capital and reducing vulnerability. In contrast, the benefits of large-scale cultural festivals are transient, often dissipating as quickly as the celebrations themselves. The Buganu ceremony was concluded with a holiday this past Monday – what has the nation have to show for it in tangible terms?.

The answer, tragically, is nothing.

None of this is to suggest that the Buganu ceremony should be abolished even though were I to be given the choice I would certainly cancel it. Rather, it calls for a recalibration. Cultural events must be right-sized to align with the country’s economic realities and development priorities. 

This could involve reducing the duration of the festival, limiting public expenditure, and encouraging greater private sector sponsorship where appropriate. 

More importantly, it requires the introduction of rigorous monitoring and evaluation mechanisms to assess the actual impact of such events. 

If tourism is indeed the main benefit, then data should be collected and quantified for the nation to see what impact the event is having. If social cohesion is a goal, then it should be measured through credible indicators. 

I am therefore arguing for a data-driven approach to national development so that we can prioritize accordingly. As it is often said, there are things that must be done and there are things that are nice to do. The Buganu ceremony falls under the latter category. Ultimately, the question is one of balance and responsibility. A nation cannot afford to celebrate itself into stagnation. 

Culture should enrich the national project and not overshadow it. Public festivals must not erode productivity, strain public finances, and distract from urgent development needs. 

If we allow them to, then they cease to be assets and become liabilities. 

As the Buganu season ends, the country stands at a familiar crossroads. It can continue on the current path, repeating a cycle of expenditure and minimal return, or it can choose a more deliberate approach that honours cultural heritage while prioritizing economic progress and social well-being. 

The choice should not be difficult. The real challenge lies in the political will to act on it. That political will shall come from the new democratic people’s government. It is time.