Zimbabwe ended sixty years of television monopoly by licensing six new channels. Look at who owns them, and at who was turned away, and a different picture of the market emerges.
Last month the Media Institute of Southern Africa (MISA) published its 2026 State of Press Freedom in Southern Africa review, and it rates Zimbabwe’s media environment “Restrictive”. That is a press-freedom judgement, and not the one we are best placed to make. But the report sent us back to a question that is squarely ours: not whether Zimbabwe’s television is free, but whether it works as a market. In the May edition we looked at Kenya, where households have quietly stopped paying for television without stopping watching it. Zimbabwe tells the same story from a different angle. Here the question is not why people stopped paying. It is why, when the state monopoly ended and six new channels arrived, so little actually changed.
For sixty years there was one television broadcaster in Zimbabwe: ZBC. In November 2020 the Broadcasting Authority of Zimbabwe (BAZ) ended that monopoly, awarding six free-to-air commercial licences from a field of fourteen applicants. Those six sit alongside the state broadcaster, so the terrestrial platform now carries around seven channels in all. On paper, a closed market had been opened. It is worth looking at who walked through the door, and who did not.
Pluralism without diversity
The ownership list is a matter of public record, and the regulator’s own chairman, Charles Sibanda, set it out plainly when he announced the awards. ZTN belongs to Zimpapers, the newspaper group whose majority shareholder is the government. NRTV is owned by Rusununguko Media, which is controlled by the Ministry of Defence. Ke Yona TV runs in partnership with that same company. 3K TV sits under Jester Media, tied to the Daily News, which counts a serving minister among its shareholders. Kumba TV and Channel D trace back, respectively, to a former ruling-party parliamentary candidate and a former chief executive of ZBC.
MISA, the regional media body, has described the result as pluralism without diversity. You can argue about the label. The structural fact underneath it is harder to dispute: ownership of the new commercial channels is heavily concentrated, tied closely to the state, the ruling party or the military. The point is sharpened by who was turned away. Among the unsuccessful applicants was Alpha Media Holdings, publisher of NewsDay, the Standard and the Zimbabwe Independent and one of the country’s few genuinely independent media groups. Its television arm, HStv, having been refused a place on the terrestrial tier, now operates as an online streaming service instead. The independent voice that wanted to broadcast ended up on the internet, which is precisely where this story is heading.
The view from inside
We do not write about this market from the outside. In ZTN’s early days, in the run-up to launch, we were closely involved in getting it off the ground. The management and team we worked with were among the most committed broadcasters we have come across anywhere. They did an excellent job, often under real pressure, and it was a genuine pleasure to build something with them.
That experience shapes how we read what has happened since. The shape of Zimbabwe’s television market was not, in the end, set by the broadcasters, or even by the regulator. The people we dealt with at BAZ and inside the channels were decent professionals doing their jobs well. The market was shaped by government policy, and the broadcasters have had to build real businesses inside the constraints that policy set.
So when we point to ownership, we are not pointing fingers. Ownership tells you who signs the cheques. It does not tell you much about what goes out at eight o’clock, and we would not pretend to read one from the other. The point that matters for anyone selling into or investing in this market is commercial, not editorial: when most of the channels answer, ultimately, to a small number of related owners, the market behaves as if it has fewer independent buyers than the channel count suggests. That holds regardless of who is in the newsroom or what they put on air.
Why ownership is a market fact
Six channels look like competition, and competition is what advertisers and content producers rely on: rival buyers bidding for spots and for programming, rates finding their level, schedules opening to whoever can fill them. Buyers who share owners do not compete in quite that way. When the channel count rises from one to seven while the number of genuinely independent decision-makers barely moves, you have more screens and roughly the same number of people to talk to. The apparent choice is wider than the real choice.
There is a technical point that makes this concrete. Under Zimbabwe’s own digital regulations, a multiplex is defined as holding the equivalent of six high-definition channels, and the ZimDigital decoder carries seven HD stations in all. By licensing six commercial channels and carrying them, with the state broadcaster, all in high definition, the available terrestrial capacity is effectively spoken for. The consequence is visible in the record. According to MISA’s review, no television or commercial radio station has been licensed in Zimbabwe since 2020, and while the new Broadcasting Services Act requires the regulator to invite licence applications at least once a year, it does so only subject to the availability of spectrum. The barrier to entry is now physical as well as procedural: the tier is full at around seven channels, and any newcomer waits on capacity that has not been built.
The make-up of that full tier is telling in its own right. Licensing six private channels did not keep all six on air. Two of the 2020 licensees, Kumba TV and Channel D, no longer appear on the current carriage list. The slots have not been filled by new independents. They have been filled by more state channels, Jive TV and a dedicated ZBC News channel, both belonging to ZBC itself. The terrestrial dial in 2026 is, if anything, more concentrated than the original licensing round suggested. And even ZBC’s flagship is reported to be too short of money to broadcast the popular sport it once carried.
Which is why the audience moved
This is where Zimbabwe and Kenya rhyme. Watch where the channels have chosen to put themselves. 3Ktv sits on DStv channel 293; ZTN Prime sits on DStv 294 and runs an active YouTube channel. The licences were for terrestrial free-to-air television, yet the channels reach for their audiences on satellite and online. That is not an accident of branding. It is an admission of where Zimbabweans actually are.
The numbers behind that instinct are stark. Digital terrestrial television reaches around 38 per cent of the country and is creeping up by a few points a year. Mobile penetration is above 97 per cent. The gap between those two figures is the real story of Zimbabwean television. If the terrestrial tier offers channels that look separate but answer to the same few owners, and if it is closed to new entrants by capacity, then the differentiated content, the independent news, the niche entertainment, the sport ZBC can no longer afford, will be found somewhere else. In 2026, somewhere else is a phone.
What we take from this
The headline figure in Zimbabwe is not the six licences or the decoder rollout. It is the distance between a 97 per cent mobile network and a 38 per cent terrestrial one, and the fact that the cheapest way to reach a Zimbabwean household in the evening may no longer be a television channel at all. For advertisers, that reframes where the value sits. For content producers, it raises an awkward question about who is actually buying. For anyone weighing the cost of a terrestrial play against an online one, the ownership map is not gossip. It is part of the business case.
At Jukwa we spend our time helping broadcasters, regulators and investors read markets like this one, where the official structure and the working reality are not the same thing. Zimbabwe is a market we know from the inside, and a clear example of the difference. Understanding it is the first step to deciding where, and whether, to spend.
If you are working through what this means for your channel, platform or distribution strategy in Southern Africa, get in touch.

