Court crushes businesswoman’s bid to save property in $600k divorce debt drama

THE High Court recently delivered a hammer blow to businesswoman Abigail Makono, dismissing her spirited bid to halt the sale of her property.

The ruling, handed down by Justice Regis Dembure, marks the latest chapter in a bruising legal saga that has pitted former lovers against each other in a high-stakes wrangle over a $600,000 divorce debt.

At the heart of the storm was a building nestled along Kaguvi Street in the capital—a once shared symbol of matrimonial success, now a contested asset in the ruins of a failed marriage.

Abigail Makono, a prominent figure in local business circles, had approached the court seeking to set aside a writ of execution obtained by her ex-husband, Charles Nyengerai Makono—a former police officer turned businessman.

Their love may have withered, but their legal ties remained entangled in red tape and court orders.

In a consent order issued by the court on January 1, 2025, Abigail was mandated to pay her ex-husband the staggering sum of $600,000 within four months.

But as the deadline came and went, the payment never materialised. Charles, unmoved by sentiment and armed with the force of the law, moved swiftly to enforce the judgment.

He obtained a writ of execution to attach Abigail’s property—including Number 78 Kaguvi Street property—to recover the debt.

But Abigail was not ready to surrender without a fight.

Her legal representative, Panashe Eric Chivhenge, rose with fervour before the court, arguing that the writ was fundamentally flawed. His first salvo was procedural: he claimed the writ improperly combined movable and immovable property. Yet, in a curious twist, this argument was later abandoned, like a sinking ship in the tempest of legal logic.

Undeterred, Chivhenge pivoted to a second line of defence, asserting that Charles was, in fact, executing against his own property.

The Kaguvi Street property, he argued, remained jointly registered in both their names—making it immune from seizure.

His third and perhaps most impassioned argument struck at the core of the consent order’s execution.

Chivhenge contended that b Charles had himself breached the court’s directions by failing to sign crucial property transfer documents.

Without these signatures, Abigail could not fulfill her end of the bargain. Her obligation to pay, he argued, was conditional upon Charles’s compliance—a compliance that, in her view, never came.

But Charles’s legal counsel, Advocate Givemore Madzoka, rose to dismantle these arguments with clinical precision.

The consent order, he submitted, was crystal clear and unequivocally binding. The Kaguvi Street property, he noted, had been awarded to Abigail months earlier, making it fair game for execution.

He further revealed that Charles had, in fact, signed and delivered all necessary transfer documents in June 2025—well before the matter reached the court.

Abigail, he added, had never made a written demand for the documents as required. In the eyes of the law, silence can be deafening.

Justice Dembure, presiding with solemn authority, found no merit in Abigail’s claims. Citing established legal principles, he ruled that court orders are sacred instruments—not to be whimsically disputed or creatively reinterpreted.

“The court order is binding and must be given effect to,” the judge pronounced.

“The applicant defaulted on her obligation to pay $600,000, and the writ issued to enforce the judgment is unimpeachable.”

In a scornful reprimand, the judge condemned Abigail’s arguments as “frivolous technicalities” and accused her of attempting to obstruct justice through delay tactics.

“Her case was clearly an abuse of court process, meant to delay or frustrate enforcement of the order,” Justice Dembure added.

In a final blow, the court dismissed Abigail’s application with punitive costs on a legal practitioner-client scale—a rare and stinging penalty that underscores the court’s view of her conduct as “vexatious and reckless.”

As the gavel fell, it marked an unceremonious end to Abigail Makono’s campaign to shield her property from the consequences of a broken legal promise.

The building on Kaguvi Street—now a liability—will go under the hammer, a silent witness to a love turned litigious.