CHENGETAI NYAMUSHONYONGORA
Wessly Madhevere has always been a player who makes you believe – until he doesn’t. There’s a moment when he walks out to bat that still makes the crowd lean forward. He’s only 24, but for many, he’s been Zimbabwe’s hope for years. The way he times the ball, the way he moves across the crease reveal natural technical ability, a fluidity you can’t teach.
![]() |
Wessly Madhevere |
And yet, here we go again: another squad announcement, another public debate centred on Madhevere.
To some, he’s become a symbol of unfulfilled promise. To others, he’s still the future—just one that needs more time. Strategically, it’s unclear whether Zimbabwe Cricket’s continued faith in him is rooted in merit, favouritism, or a desire to maintain consistency in the squad over time. There are likely layers to all of it. But behind the stats and the noise is a deeply human story—a young man trying to find his way under an unforgiving spotlight.
Madhevere grew up in Highfield, Harare. He grew up playing cricket with tennis balls and taped plastic balls on dusty streets of Highfield before earning a place at Takashinga Cricket Club—the same ground that produced legends like Tatenda Taibu, Hamilton Masakadza, and Sikandar Raza.
By the age of 15, he was already making waves, playing in three Under-19 World Cups and scoring over 300 runs in the 2020 tournament alone. Soon after, Zimbabwe Cricket fast-tracked him into the senior team across all formats.
Fast forward to 2022/2023, he was living up to expectations internationally. In 2023 he headlined the Netherlands tour of Zimbabwe with a sensational ODI hat-trick—one of those rare moments that justified the faith invested in him.
Then came the stumble. In December, Madhevere together with Brandon Mavuta tested positive for marijuana and received a four-month ban and a hefty fine. He owned the mistake in interviews, called it a “darkest moment,” and emphasized his commitment to learn from it. Alongside his wife, Rumbidzai, and son, Tadiwa, he paused and returned in mid 2024 quieter, leaner, and determined.
But the runs haven’t followed consistently since. In 76 T20Is, he’s scored 1,206 runs at an average just over 19. Seven fifties, yes—but also frequent single-digit dismissals. His last 10 scores include 0, 1, 9, 3—and only a 73* and 43 to break the slump. Yet selectors persist with him.
![]() |
Madhevere’s T20I stats |
This is where Zimbabwe Cricket’s strategy gets complicated. How do you manage a talent like Madhevere? Do you keep throwing him into the lineup, hoping he’ll turn things around, or do you give him space to work on his game away from the spotlight and bring him back when the pressure eases? Can Zimbabwe afford to bench him, especially when there aren’t many players who fit his profile—a top-six batsman who can bowl off-spin and field well? The truth is, finding someone with his combination of skills and experience isn’t easy. But when he’s underperforming, what’s the right call?
Maybe the bigger picture—structurally, strategically, and symbolically—makes things a bit easier to understand. It doesn’t quite feel like merit. Is it favouritism? Or is Zimbabwe Cricket quietly building a core squad with the 2026 World Cup in mind? We don’t really know—and that’s what’s most troubling. Madhevere isn’t just any player; he’s a home-grown Black Zimbabwean from the township system. In a sport that has long struggled with access and equality, his presence is more than symbolic—it’s a beacon of hope that cricket in Zimbabwe can truly reflect the country’s diversity.
He’s like Marcus Rashford at Manchester United—a local kid with immense talent who carries more than just the hopes of the team on his shoulders. Like Madhevere he was thrust into the spotlight for a long time, and while he performed brilliantly at his best, his career has also been marked by inconsistencies brought on by the immense pressure of carrying that brand.
Wessly is, in the eyes of many fans, a “national treasure”—but that also means he has to be managed carefully, with patience and a plan that protects his development as much as it relies on his talent.
However, belief without clarity and consistency only breeds doubt. It’s one thing to back Wessly as a long-term prospect—but that trust needs to be applied fairly across the board. Players like Brad Evans, Tashinga Musekiwa, Nick Welch, and Jonathan Campbell all have strong technique, valuable experience, and clear potential, yet they haven’t been given the same patience or chances. When some players are kept in the team despite extended poor form, while others are dropped after just a few games, it creates a sense of favoritism—and that ultimately undermines the credibility of the whole selection process.
The public sees inconsistency in selection. Club stalwarts, passionate fans, and even cricketing legends are sometimes ignored, while promising fringe players vanish without any explanation. Selectors rarely clarify their decisions, which only fuels mistrust. It’s hard to tell whether they’re backing proven talent or simply holding onto hope—and that lack of transparency turns what should be a clear process into guesswork.
Adding weight to this conversation is Alistair Campbell, former Zimbabwe captain and cricket administrator who spoke during Zimbabwe’s recent tour of England. He’s been forthright about the importance of investing in domestic cricket, warning that without professional coaching, strong, competitive first-class leagues and clear development pathways, talents like Madhevere risk either drifting off or fading away.
Campbell’s perspective lends credibility to Zimbabwe Cricket’s claim that they’re focusing on a consistent XI, sustainable growth rather than just gambling on raw talent. Yet, it also highlights a major source of fan frustration: while progress is visible, the selection process remains opaque. If Madhevere is truly being nurtured as a long-term prospect, fans deserve to hear that clearly, along with details about the support he’s receiving—whether coaching, rest periods, or development plans—instead of just seeing his name repeatedly appear on squads without explanation. More importantly, this patient, structured approach should be extended to other promising players as well, so everyone with potential gets a fair chance to grow and prove themselves.
There have been moments that remind everyone why this belief exists. Earlier this year, Madhevere scored a gritty 84 in a Test match in Bulawayo—after driving 500 kilometers the night before just to make it to camp. That kind of determination speaks louder than averages ever could.
Now, as Zimbabwe prepares for a tri-series against New Zealand and South Africa, the pressure is mounting again. Fans are watching closely. Critics are sharpening their pens; the sharks are drawing their swords. Selectors control the narrative—if they’re honest and transparent, people will grant them time; if not, patience will quickly wear thin.
Madhevere’s story isn’t just about a young player trying to find his feet. It’s about a cricket board testing its planning, a public weighing hope against hard evidence, and a nation asking a crucial question: are we truly investing in the future, or just persisting out of habit and favouritism?
0 Comments