Inside the Munetsi Exclusion That Rocked Zimbabwean Football

Marshall Munetsi will not wear the Warriors jersey at AFCON 2025.

Not because he’s injured. Not because he’s out of form. But because he spoke up.

How does a midfield general, fit, in form, and flying high in Europe, get axed from Zimbabwe’s AFCON 2025 squad without a word of reason?

ZIFA had no answers. Just a shrug. A vague nod to “fitness concerns.” But the truth, as uncovered by Bhorafrika, is far more sinister.

This wasn’t a footballing decision. It was a purge.

When the final Warriors squad for the 2025 Africa Cup of Nations was announced, the omission of Marshall Munetsi sent shockwaves through Zimbabwean football. Here was a player in his prime, a midfield general thriving in Europe, respected across the continent, left out without explanation.

But behind the scenes, a far more troubling story was unfolding. One that reveals a toxic cocktail of internal betrayal, administrative vendettas, and a governing body more interested in silencing dissent than building a winning team.

This is not just about a player. It’s about power. And what happens when those in charge feel threatened by those who lead from within.

According to Bhorafrika, it began, as many modern revolutions do, with a message.

In the days leading up to a crucial match against South Africa, the Warriors camp was in disarray. Promised allowances hadn’t been paid. Morale was crumbling. Players were frustrated. Angry. Tired of broken promises.

In a private team WhatsApp group, Munetsi, one of the most senior and respected voices, urged his teammates to consider a boycott. Not out of malice, but out of principle.

To many, it was leadership. To ZIFA, it was mutiny.

What happened next would alter the course of Munetsi’s international career.

Someone, a teammate, a Judas, took a screenshot of Munetsi’s message and sent it to ZIFA official Kudzai Chitima. From there, it spread like wildfire through the corridors of power.

The response was swift and brutal.

Munetsi was summoned. Threatened. Told he would never play for the national team again unless he apologized. Some officials even pushed to have him expelled from camp before the Bafana Bafana game, a move only narrowly avoided.

The damage, however, was done. Trust was broken. The relationship between Munetsi and the administration lay in ruins.

When the AFCON squad was finalized, ZIFA claimed Munetsi was injured. But his club, Wolves, quickly debunked that narrative. In official communication to ZIFA, they confirmed he was 95% fit and expected to be ready for the tournament.

All ZIFA had to do was assess him. They didn’t.

Other players with more serious injuries were called up, examined, and monitored. Munetsi? Ignored.

The message was clear: this wasn’t about fitness. It was about punishment.

If the administration had turned its back on Munetsi, so too had the coach.

Head coach Marian “Mario” Marinica reportedly sent Munetsi a scathing message, expressing disappointment over missed camps, lack of communication, and even his failure to congratulate the team after a win in Qatar.

Then came the final blow: a demand for a written letter pledging future commitment to the national team.

It was an unprecedented move. One that reeked of mistrust and humiliation. One that no other player was asked to endure.

Taken together, the leaked messages, the threats, the injury smokescreen, the coach’s coldness, the picture becomes painfully clear.

Munetsi wasn’t dropped. He was targeted.

ZIFA turned a player’s call for accountability into a disciplinary offense. They weaponized a private conversation. They spun a false injury narrative. And they painted a loyal servant of the game as a disruptive force.

It’s a pattern Zimbabwean fans have seen before. And it’s one that continues to haunt the national team.

Munetsi’s exclusion is not an isolated incident. It’s a symptom of a deeper rot within Zimbabwean football.

An environment where speaking up is punished. Where leadership is feared. Where politics trumps performance.

If a player of Munetsi’s caliber can be cast aside for demanding professionalism, what hope is there for the rest?

What message does this send to young players dreaming of donning the national jersey?

And what future does Zimbabwean football have when its best are treated as threats?

ZIFA has yet to offer a credible explanation.

But their silence speaks volumes.

Until accountability replaces ego, and leadership is embraced rather than feared, the Warriors will remain a team at war with itself.

And the nation will continue to pay the price.