Mbulelo Mpofu, Zimpapers Arts and Entertainment Hub
On 8 September, submission lines will officially close for creatives hoping to have their work considered for the 8th edition of the Bulawayo Arts Awards (BAAs), scheduled for 8 November at Hall 3, Zimbabwe International Exhibition Centre (ZIEC).
After a one-year hiatus, the BAAs return to a city that has long been a cultural hub.
The awards season is a time of dreams fulfilled for some, and heartbreak for others. For a lucky few, it is a crowning moment of glory; for others, it is another near miss that sparks debate about fairness.
The BAAs, like any major arts award, come wrapped in glitz and glamour: the red carpets, emotional acceptance speeches, and the suspense before that all-important envelope is opened. These moments captivate audiences and cement cultural legacies.
But behind the sparkle lies an age-old, contentious question: Who decides what counts as “the best”?

The arts world continues to wrestle with the same fundamental tension — should excellence be determined by expert adjudication panels or by the voice of the people? Both systems are championed for their strengths and scrutinised for their flaws, and as awards grow in prominence locally and globally, understanding this debate is crucial.
For decades, adjudicating panels have been the gold standard for prestigious awards. These panels are typically made up of respected practitioners, scholars, critics, and curators — individuals steeped in the nuances of their craft.
Advocates argue that this system safeguards artistic integrity by prioritising technical mastery, originality, thematic depth, and historical significance over commercial success or social media hype.
Panels also allow for rigorous deliberation. Judges debate, challenge, and re-evaluate works before reaching a consensus. This structured scrutiny aims for informed, considered judgment, far removed from popularity contests.
Because they are insulated from market trends and viral cycles, panels often elevate work that might otherwise re-main in the shadows — avant-garde, experimental, or conceptually rich pieces that may not appeal to mainstream audiences. Awards like the Turner Prize exemplify this approach, shaping artistic discourse by spotlighting bold, boundary-pushing works.
Yet, panels are not immune to criticism. They are sometimes accused of elitism, bias, and opacity. Decisions can feel out of touch with audience sentiment, leaving the public questioning whether judges truly reflect the cultural pulse.
On the flip side, voting systems give power to the masses — whether it is industry peers or the general public. This model thrives on democratic legitimacy. Winners are seen as reflecting collective taste and resonance, rather than the verdict of a closed circle.
Peer-based voting, such as in the Oscars’ acting categories, carries significant weight because it signals recognition from those who understand the craft intimately. Similarly, the Grammys, despite criticism, remain the ultimate seal of peer respect in music. Public voting adds a different kind of energy. It transforms awards into cultural spectacles, engaging fans, boosting visibility, and creating ownership. People’s Choice Awards epitomise this approach, rewarding popularity and fan loyalty.
However, popularity-driven systems have vulnerabilities: lobbying, bloc voting, and the risk of hype overshadowing quality. Public votes can be hijacked by passionate fandoms, prioritising devotion over artistic merit. Peer voting can also lapse into tokenism, rewarding reputation rather than genuine excellence.
Neither system is flawless. Each carries its own strengths and blind spots. The real question for any awards body is: What is your mission? Is it to champion artistic innovation, celebrate mass appeal, honour industry veterans, or discover new talent? Clarity of purpose should dictate the selection model.
Transparency is critical. Awards organisers must publish the criteria, outline the process, and explain how decisions are made. Hybrid models — where panels shortlist nominees and the public or peers select winners — can balance expert scrutiny with democratic legitimacy.
The BAAs, according to organiser Saimon “Mambazo” Phiri, will stick to adjudication for most categories while reserving People’s Choice for public voting. “We’ve monitored works since last year. To maintain fairness and transparency, we’ll keep the adjudication system and withhold judges’ names to avoid lobbying or bias. Only People’s Choice will be public-voted,” he said.
Last year’s National Arts Merit Awards (Nama) drew heavy criticism when “Damage” by Tahle We Dzinza won Best Video Production despite being unavailable for public scrutiny. The backlash sparked questions about credibility and transparency — lessons the BAAs cannot ignore.
The way forward
Bulawayo’s creative ecosystem needs awards that feel authentic, credible, and purposeful. Chasing the impossible dream of being both the Oscars and the Turner Prize will only dilute impact. Instead, organisers must define their unique identity — a model that honours local artistry while building global relevance.
Whether it is panel-driven precision, popular vote energy, or a hybrid model, the future of awards lies in aligning the selection method with a clearly articulated vision.
In the end, the tension between expert discernment and popular acclaim mirrors the very essence of art — a dynamic conversation between creators, critics, and communities. There is no universal formula for “best”. But by embracing transparency, clarity, and cultural context, the BAAs can set a standard that celebrates both excellence and inclusivity.




