Taygeta Zihwi, [email protected]
FOR generations, churches in Zimbabwe stood as sanctuaries where anyone, regardless of status, could gather in prayer, seek guidance and draw strength from community.
Faith was the one domain where the rich and the poor were meant to stand side-by side, equal before God. Yet today, this picture is changing.
The price of faith is becoming a heavy financial burden, leaving many ordinary Zimbabweans struggling to keep up with demands that appear to tie spiritual worth to material contribution.
Initially, Pentecostal movements bore the brunt of criticism for linking blessings to giving. Congregants were encouraged to tithe, offer “seed money,” and make sacrificial donations, often beyond their means, in the hope of spiritual breakthroughs.
But over time, this culture of financial expectation has spread across the religious spectrum. Even mainline churches, once celebrated for their stability and accessibility, now subtly measure devotion by what members can contribute.

This shift has had profound effects on congregants. From a community psychology perspective, the bulk of church members are silently struggling.
Many cannot afford the costs associated with worship, but out of fear of ridicule or being branded as faithless, they remain quiet. Silence becomes the safest option.
To belong, they conform, sometimes presenting an image of financial stability that does not exist.
This reveals a striking truth: peer pressure is not only a feature of adolescence. In adulthood, the same pressures to fit in, to belong, and to be admired persist. Only this time, they take root in the very institutions meant to offer refuge.
Take for example, a mother of three in Bulawayo. Already battling to pay school fees and put food on the table, she feels compelled to give more than she can afford during church offerings, simply to avoid the embarrassment of giving too little.
Each Sunday, she walks home guilt-ridden, wondering how she will stretch what little is left for her family. Yet she continues because the alternative, being whispered about as lacking faith, feels unbearable.
Or consider a young couple in Harare. Newly married, they find themselves at odds because the husband spends a large portion of their income on church programmes, eager to be recognised as “a man of faith”.
His wife, however, sees how this is straining their household finances and leaving little for rent and savings. Instead of strengthening their marriage, the church has become a source of conflict, sowing division rather than unity.
Even within the Apostolic sects, the pressures are similar.
For one to be prayed for or helped, they are often required to buy certain items to be used in rituals.
A young man in Gokwe, for instance, unemployed but desperate for healing, is told he needs to purchase candles, fabric, and oil before prayers can be offered. With no money, he is left with no option but to endure his misery, excluded not because of a lack of faith but because of want.
These stories reflect a broader social pattern.
Churches that once strengthened households are now, in some cases, straining them. Resources meant for food, education, or rentals are redirected towards church demands, leaving families in conflict and children neglected.
Marriages, too, come under pressure when one partner prioritises church obligations over family needs. What should serve as a unifying force, risks becoming a wedge that fractures bonds.
Disillusionment is growing. Many congregants now lead what might be called “double spiritual lives”. They continue to attend their churches for appearances’ sake, maintaining their standing within the group, but secretly, they seek solace elsewhere through alternative prayer groups, traditional healers, or personal spirituality that carries no financial expectations.
The result is a quiet but significant erosion of trust in institutions that once carried unquestioned moral authority.
As Zimbabwe continues to navigate economic hardship, this issue calls for urgent reflection. Churches are not only religious institutions. They are also key community structures that shape values, relationships and resilience.
If they become spaces where money overshadows spirituality, the very fabric of community life is weakened. True faith cannot and should not be measured by the size of an offering. It must be rooted in inclusivity, compassion and service principles that uplift the struggling rather than side-line them.
From a community psychologist’s lens, the challenge is not merely about individual faith, but about social well-being. Churches need to reassess their role, recognising the hidden burdens they place on congregants and the silent suffering that conformity masks.
If they return to being sanctuaries of acceptance rather than stages of financial competition, they can once again serve as the stabilising pillars Zimbabwean communities so urgently need.
l Taygeta Larsyn Zihwi is a registered community psychologist. For feedback: [email protected]/ 0779781909.



