Bruce Ndlovu, Sunday Life Reporter
AT number 39 Wallis Road in Mandara, a suburb of Harare, the air carries more than the scent of burning herbs.
It holds something older — ancestral whispers, spiritual authority and the weight of tradition.
From this sacred space, Memory Madamburi better known as Gogo Chihoro, has built a reputation that stretches far beyond Zimbabwe’s borders.
Now, in a move reflecting a broader shift within the country’s traditional healing sector, she is stepping decisively into the digital world.

Her return to social media, under the verified handle “Gogo Chihoro Official” on Facebook, TikTok and YouTube, is more than a personal rebranding exercise.
It symbolises how traditional healers — once rooted firmly in secrecy, ritual and locality —are increasingly embracing modern tools to expand their reach, protect their reputations and grow their practices into structured enterprises.
For Gogo Chihoro, the decision was not taken lightly.
Traditional healing in Zimbabwe has long been regarded as a sacred calling, guided by ancestral spirits and governed by strict cultural codes.
Practitioners were expected to operate within defined physical spaces, with knowledge passed down through spiritual initiation rather than public display. Visibility, especially of the kind associated with social media, would once have been considered inappropriate, if not outright taboo.
Yet the digital age has forced a reconsideration.
“My ancestors have now given me permission to reach out to more people through these platforms,” she told Sunday Life, framing the move not as a commercial pivot but as a spiritually sanctioned evolution.
In her telling, social media is not a departure from tradition but an extension of it — a new pathway through which ancestral guidance can reach those in need.
Her return also responds to a growing threat: impersonation.
In recent months, fraudulent accounts bearing her name and likeness have proliferated online, targeting vulnerable individuals seeking spiritual assistance. These impostors have exploited both her reputation and the anonymity of digital platforms, extracting money while offering no genuine service.
Beyond safeguarding her name, her digital re-entry signals a broader ambition.
Plans are already underway to establish a physical branch in Botswana, underscoring how traditional healing is evolving into a cross-border enterprise.
Where once a healer’s influence might have been confined to a village or region, social media now enables practitioners to cultivate international followings, turning local practices into regional brands. This transformation is not unique to Gogo Chihoro.
Across Zimbabwe, a growing number of traditional healers are turning to platforms like Facebook, WhatsApp and TikTok to advertise their services, share testimonials and engage directly with clients.
Short videos promise solutions to everything from financial misfortune to chronic illness, while comment sections double as public forums for consultation.
But the shift has not come without controversy.
Critics argue that the proliferation of healers online has diluted the sanctity of the practice.
The ease with which anyone can create a profile and claim spiritual authority has led to a surge in self-proclaimed healers, many of whom lack the training, initiation or legitimacy traditionally required. The result is a marketplace where authenticity is often indistinguishable from opportunism.
“We have lost the voice of our cultural custodians,” said traditional healer Gatyeni Mamali.
“Elders from the villages, who understand and respect our culture, look at us with shock and reluctance to engage, because we listen only to the sound of our own voices. We have adopted a policy of ‘moving with the times’ and ‘culture evolves.’ Of course, culture evolves and times change, but we do not have to go wherever the wind blows.
“Some things are sacred and should not change. As much as identity is fluid, we should not lose the fabric and foundation of that identity. Otherwise, the world will swallow us and we will be left bare. We have a young generation that craves authentic cultural and spiritual guidance because they were deprived of cultural information and wisdom by their parents.”
For some observers, this raises uncomfortable questions. Can a practice rooted in secrecy and spiritual discipline maintain its integrity in a space driven by visibility, algorithms and viral posts?
Does packaging traditional healing into bite-sized, shareable content risk reducing it to spectacle?
Even within the community of practitioners, unease persists. Older, more conservative healers worry that the rush to digitise may erode the cultural foundations of their craft.
Rituals, codes of conduct and the deeply personal nature of consultations are difficult to translate into a medium designed for mass consumption.
Yet for others, the shift is both inevitable and necessary.
“I think we cannot bury our heads in the sand and pretend that social media does not exist,” traditional healer Mike Ncube told Sunday Life.
“Throughout the years, traditional practices have evolved with advancements in technology. This happened with the discovery of electricity, the car, or the phone. Should you not utilise social media if it is going to help you reach more people?”
Supporters of the digital turn argue that social media democratises access to traditional healing.
In the past, geographical distance, cost and social barriers could prevent individuals from seeking help. Now, a person in a remote area — or even in the diaspora — can connect with a healer instantly.
For many Zimbabweans living abroad, this offers a vital link to cultural practices that might otherwise be out of reach.
Gogo Chihoro’s expansion plans reflect this reality. Her anticipated move into Botswana is not just about physical presence but about meeting an existing demand amplified through digital engagement.
Messages from prospective clients across the border have made it clear that her influence is no longer confined by geography.
At the same time, her emphasis on values — integrity, respect, Ubuntu and the restoration of cultural traditions — suggests an awareness of the risks involved.




