Online Reporter
Manje So with Mai Juju
AH, the sweet life of a Zimbabwean influencer!
The luxury whips. The designer drip. The carefully curated photos of bottomless brunches that leave the rest of us wondering whether we should have taken that content creation course back in 2020.
For years, we have watched Madam Boss, Mai Titi, Comic Elder and the gang flex their way across our timelines as if it’s a full-contact sport.
US$20 000 in a good month?
That’s not just influencer money — that’s “buy-your-own-private-jet” territory.
Meanwhile, the rest of us are out here calculating whether we can afford extra sadza with our stew. But here is the thing about dancing in the digital sun: Eventually, the taxman casts a very long shadow.
ZIMRA has officially crashed the party.
And honestly? It’s about time.
Patriotism looks good on you, too, folks.
Let’s talk about patriotism for a second. You know what’s more patriotic than a flag filter on your Instagram story? Splitting your YouTube revenue with the very Government that keeps the lights on — or at least tries to.
For years, lowly paid workers have been doing the noble thing. That security guard at the mall? He splits his US$300 with ZIMRA every month. The nurse working double shifts? She pays her PAYE like a champ. The teacher who somehow still smiles after marking 50 exam papers? Tax deducted at source, my friend.
But influencers? Oh no. The narrative has been: “I’m just a creative. The money comes from Facebook. Facebook is in America. So technically, ZIMRA doesn’t exist.”
Cute theory. Wrong answer.
Everywhere else, the taxman cometh
Here is a reality check that might sting more than a demonetised video: In the United States, the IRS audits influencers like it’s a spectator sport.
In the UK, HMRC has entire departments dedicated to YouTubers who “forgot” to declare their brand deals. In Nigeria, the FIRS is already knocking on digital doors.
Zimbabwe is not inventing the wheel here.
We are just finally catching up to it — and parking it firmly on your driveway.
The likes of PewDiePie, the highest-earning YouTuber for years, has openly discussed paying millions in tax. Even the Kardashians — who once built an empire on “reality” — have learned that tax evasion is the one scandal even their PR team can’t spin.
If Kylie Jenner can declare her lip kit millions, Madam Boss can certainly declare her US$20 000 monthly windfall.
The voluntary disclosure window: your get-out-of-jail-free card
Here is where it gets funny — in a “laugh so you don’t cry” kind of way. ZIMRA has actually been nice about this. They have opened a voluntary disclosure window until May 30, 2026.
No penalties. No automatic audits. No criminal proceedings. Just pay the principal and a little interest, and we are square.
After that? Full penalties. Possible prosecution. And the kind of public shame that no amount of Instagram filtering can fix.
So, here is my advice to every influencer: Register with ZIMRA. Declare your earnings. Pay what you owe. Then make a TikTok about it — and watch the views roll in (ge ge ge)
Because nothing says “influence” quite like influencing other artistes to do the right thing.
And nothing says patriotism like building a school, a road or a clinic with your tax dollars.
The honeymoon is over, folks.
The likes are temporary. But ZIMRA? ZIMRA is forever.
