Cresencia Chiremba
THIS week is Customer Service Week, and the official theme is “Mission: Possible.” It’s catchy, yes—but for many Zimbabwean customers, the mission still feels impossible.
Impossible to be heard. Impossible to be respected. Impossible to get service that matches the price tag.
But here’s the twist: the mission is possible. And it starts not with grand gestures, but with small, consistent acts of dignity. This week, I want to talk about the kind of customer service that doesn’t just tick boxes—it transforms lives.
Ndakanzwa Zita Rangu
A few weeks ago, I visited a clinic—not as a consultant, but as a daughter. My mother needed care, and I was bracing myself for the usual: long queues, blank stares, and the dreaded “next!” barked from behind a desk.
Instead, the receptionist looked up, smiled, and said, “Welcome, Ms Chiremba. We’ve been expecting you.”
Handina kumbobvira ndanzwa zita rangu richirehwa zvakadaro. I hadn’t realized how much I needed that moment. It wasn’t just about efficiency—it was about being seen. Being named. Being human.
That’s the power of service. It’s not just about solving problems. It’s about restoring people.
The Real Frontline
We often celebrate customer service as a department. But in truth, it’s a culture. It lives in the way a cleaner greets a patient. In the way a cashier handles a complaint. In the way a WhatsApp reply is worded at 7:00 a.m.
Customer service is not a uniform—it’s a mindset. And the real frontline isn’t the reception desk. It’s every moment where a customer wonders: Do I matter here?
This week, I challenge every business leader to ask: What does our service say about our values? Because customers are listening. And they’re not just listening to what you say—they’re listening to how you say it.
Kugadzirisa Kwete Kutsanangura
One of the most frustrating phrases in Zimbabwean service culture is “hazvina basa.” It’s the verbal shrug that tells a customer: your problem is not my problem.
But what if we replaced it with “ngatizvigadzirisei”? What if our default was solution, not excuse?
I’ve seen it happen. At Seed-Co Mozambique, we trained staff to respond to complaints with curiosity, not defensiveness. The results? Fewer arguments. More repeat customers. And a team that felt proud—not punished—when they solved a problem.
Customer service reform isn’t just about better manners. It’s about better systems. Systems that empower staff to act, not just apologize.
Recognition Is Not a Luxury
This week, many companies will hand out certificates and cupcakes. That’s lovely. But if recognition only happens once a year, it’s not culture—it’s decoration.
True recognition is daily. It’s the WhatsApp shout-out for a job well done. It’s the manager who says “thank you” without being prompted. It’s the bulletin board that celebrates real stories—not just targets met.
At Tisu Vatengi, we’ve seen how recognition transforms morale. When staff feel seen, they serve better. When customers see staff being celebrated, they trust more. It’s a virtuous cycle—and it starts with leadership.
Service Is a Story
Every customer interaction is a story. Sometimes it’s a comedy. Sometimes it’s a tragedy. But the best ones? They’re stories of redemption.
Earlier this year, I wrote about fake products flooding the market—counterfeit products, mislabeled, and packaging designed to deceive. The response was swift. Regulators who had been silent suddenly took action. Raids were conducted. Statements were issued. And for once, the customer’s voice echoed through the corridors of power.
Uyo mutengi akanga asisiri kungochema—akanga ava kutaura, uye vanhu vakateerera.
That’s customer service too. Not just at the counter, but in the boardroom. In the policy brief. In the public apology.
The Mission Is Possible—If We Listen
So, as we enter Customer Service Week, let’s go beyond the balloons and hashtags. Let’s ask deeper questions:
– Are our staff empowered to solve problems?
– Do our customers feel named, not numbered?
– Are we building systems that reward dignity, not just speed?
Because the mission is possible. But only if we listen. Only if we care. Only if we remember that behind every counter is a person—and in front of it, another one.
Uye vanhu ava vanoda kukudzwa. Vanoda kunzwa zita ravo. Vanoda kuona kuti basa ravo rine chiremera.
Let’s give them that. Not just this week—but every week.
*Cresencia Marjorie Chiremba is a Marketing, Sales & Customer Service Consultant. For suggestions and training, contact her at [email protected] or +263 712 979 461 / 0719 978 335 / 0772 978 335