Lloyd Makonya
Correspondent
IN Zimbabwe today, innovation is no longer confined to laboratories or big corporations.
Ordinary citizens are coming up with practical solutions to national challenges and mobile money systems are a prime example of how local ideas can transform entire economies.
Yet, one recurring concern remains: how does an innovator protect an idea before it is taken over by someone bigger, more powerful or better connected?
Under Zimbabwe’s Copyright and Neighbouring Rights Act (Chapter 26:05), computer software and programmes are treated as literary works.
This means that once you develop a code, design a system or create an application, your work is automatically protected by copyright whether or not you register it.
The law recognises you as the author, giving you exclusive rights to reproduce, distribute, or licence your programme.
However, copyright does not protect the idea itself, only its expression. This is where many innovators are caught off guard — because pitching an idea without reducing it to writing, coding, or any tangible form leaves it vulnerable.
A powerful illustration of this comes from South Africa in the now famous “Please Call Me” case.
In the early 2000s, a young Vodacom employee, Nkosana Makate, proposed a simple, but revolutionary service that allowed mobile phone users without airtime to send a free message asking someone to call them back.
Vodacom rolled out the service nationwide, but Makate was not compensated for years.
After a long legal battle, the Constitutional Court finally ruled in his favour, recognising his contribution and affirming his right to benefit from the idea he originated.
The lesson from this case is clear, even when an idea is designed for a larger institution or company to implement, the originator must document and protect it before sharing.
This principle also applies in Zimbabwe where innovators often develop solutions that can only be rolled out by Government institutions or major service providers.
For instance, a system for managing national identity documents or digital passports cannot be implemented privately since it requires government authority.
In such cases, innovators may feel discouraged, believing they have no leverage. Yet, protection is still vital.
It secures recognition of authorship, gives the creator some control over how the solution is used and may even open doors to partnerships, licensing opportunities or funding.
Practical steps for innovators include keeping proper records of every stage of their work, from sketches and notes to codes and presentations or prototypes. When presenting to potential partners, it is advisable to use non-disclosure agreements, which while not foolproof signal that the idea is not up for free use. Beyond copyright, innovators may also explore patents for technical solutions, trademarks for brand names and logos and industrial designs for visual aspects of their systems.
Institutions such as the Companies and Intellectual Property Office of Zimbabwe (CIPZ) and the African Regional Intellectual Property Organisation (ARIPO), headquartered in Harare, can provide guidance on the most appropriate protection route.
Innovation thrives in environments where ideas are respected and protected. Whether a project is designed to generate profit or simply to solve a public problem, intellectual property is a right every creator is entitled to.
The “Please Call Me” case reminds us that recognition delayed is not recognition denied but it also shows the struggles that come when protection is left until too late.
Zimbabwean innovators would do well to learn from this example and secure their place in the story of the nation’s progress by protecting their creations from the very beginning.



