A victorious candidate must win 50 percent of the total vote plus one. If there is no outright winner, the top two candidates will be forced into a runoff, which would take place on September 8. Mnangagwa and Chamisa ran neck and neck in preelection polls, and there are many analysts now raising the possibility, even the likelihood, of a runoff.

In the short term, Mnangagwa’s strategy of economic liberalization while maintaining Mugabe’s illiberal political system (despite some new faces at the top) is likely to succeed.

Sub-Saharan Africa is home to many of the world’s longest-ruling heads of state, but civil society and regional blocs may be slowing the trend of extending presidential terms in some areas.

This April marks the twenty-six-year anniversary of the Rwandan genocide and twenty years since Paul Kagame took the reins as president. For much of that time, Kagame imposed limits on the political process, democratic debate, and opposition figures. He justified these limits by saying that the country was too fragile, the wounds too fresh, and the competitive aspects of democracy too divisive for a country emerging out of a genocide. But when does that grace period end?

After thirty-seven years in power, President Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe was toppled via a military coup in November 2017. His successor and former vice president, Emmerson Mnangagwa, promised a break from Mugabe’s authoritarian rule and economic mismanagement, declaring a “new Zimbabwe” that is “open for business.” After two years in power, to what extent has Mnangagwa delivered on his promises? In short, it’s bleak.

The year ahead for Zimbabwe is looking grim. The vast majority of its people will continue to suffer, and its leaders will continue to blame others for their own failures.

Southern Africa recently wrapped up two dramatically different elections. In Mozambique, presidential, parliamentary, and regional elections were characterized by irregularities and even violence, but not by suspense. The ruling FRELIMO party had ensured its victory in the pre-election period, in part through the presence of “ghost voters” on the voters’ roll, and through a campaign of intimidation aimed at challengers to its power.

During his thirty-seven years in power in Zimbabwe, he committed virtually every human rights violation there is. His hands were awash in the blood of Zimbabweans. Fanning and exploiting racial and class differences, he destroyed the country’s economy, once on the cusp of being one of Africa’s most developed, driving out commercial white farmers. By the time he died, Zimbabwe was an international pariah, an economic basket case, and many or most of the country’s most educated and productive citizens had left the country.

In the run-up to last year’s presidential and parliamentary elections in Zimbabwe, hope was palpable in Harare. Civil society activists, journalists, and business leaders marveled at how political space had opened up in the wake of the coup that ousted longtime President Robert Mugabe. It was as if an entire country had opened up the windows to let in fresh air. However, these victories for Zimbabwe are ringing hollow because they occur against an alarming backdrop of state-sponsored violence and intimidation.