Arron Nyamayaro
There was drama at a traditional court in Murehwa on Friday after a Kuwadzana man accused his wife of dating her business partner and disrupted proceedings while the chief was delivering judgment.
Tinashe Gwarimbo stood up abruptly as Chief Zihute read his decision, raising his voice beyond the limit of respect. In full view of the court, he pointed accusingly toward Simbarashe Jaramba, claiming the man had “stolen” more than attention from the home by dating Gwarimbo’s wife, Beaulah Kambarami.
Chief Zihute’s secretary, Michael Fungai Zinyama, confirmed the disruption.
“The judgment could not be delivered after Gwarimbo attacked the alleged lover. We took them to police,” Zinyama said.
For many in the court, it seemed the case would unfold the usual way—quietly, with the elders delivering their judgment as expected. But once the hearing began, restraint fractured. The crowd tensed, elders leaned forward, and even those who had come only to watch found their attention locked on the same target.
“Simbarashe,” Gwarimbo shouted, cutting through the court’s rhythm, “you have been dating my wife since January.”
Before anyone could stop him, he surged forward and disrupted the proceedings—moving from words to violence in a single rush.
In an instant, the traditional court—meant to preserve peace while truth is tested—became a scene of chaos. Witnesses cried out as officials scrambled to restore calm.
Chief Zihute ordered his lieutenants to take Gwarimbo, Simbarashe, and their families to police, where they were referred to the Community Relations Liaison Officer for counselling.
Simbarashe was described in court as Kambarami’s business partner.
That mattered because community members did not see the alleged relationship as a secret that suddenly appeared. Their names had been linked in everyday life, long before accusations were spoken in court.

According to the case presented, the relationship was not merely social or casual. Gwarimbo claimed it began in January, an accusation that arrived like a timeline—measuring affection by months rather than feelings.
During the last court hearing, recordings of some cellphone conversations were played, in which Kambarami allegedly disclosed her feelings for Simbarashe.
Gwarimbo told the court he had spent US$9,280—which he said represented money paid for Kambarami’s education, up to her becoming a teacher. He also presented claims of total lobola paid amounting to US$3,500, which he said he wanted his in-laws to refund.
Chief Zihute postponed the judgment to May 22, 2026.
Since 2024, Kambarami and Simbarashe have allegedly worked together in a farming project. Community members said the project pulled them into the same routines—field visits, planning sessions, and teamwork—creating familiarity that can be misread or misunderstood.
In Gwarimbo’s view, January was the turning point. Yet, even after the violence and the disruption, questions lingered in the courtroom like smoke: was this a case of genuine intimacy—or the community’s way of interpreting closeness when emotions would not stay quiet?
The hearing shifted from a simple allegation of cheating into a fight over honor, suspicion, and the danger of letting anger move faster than evidence.
Kambarami reportedly left her matrimonial home after Gwarimbo discovered what he described as her affair with Simbarashe—described as the son of a church leader and also her business partner.
The matter has since spread across Murehwa, drawing a sizeable crowd to the court gallery each time the case is mentioned.




