Online Reporter
Lovemore Kadzura
Post Reporter
AS dusk settles over Mutare, Rusape and Chipinge – a haze of wood smoke and sizzling fat hangs above the pavements, carrying the unmistakable aroma of roasting meat, fried fish, chips and charred maize.
Along the bustling pavements of Mutare’s Central Business District, the crowded bus termini of Rusape and Chipinge, and at street corners where commuters gather – dozens of makeshift stalls spring to life.
Across these urban settlements, an unregulated street food economy has taken root with remarkable speed, transforming pavements, parking bays and every available verge into impromptu kitchens.
In Mutare, the change is most visible around Sakubva, Chikanga and Dangamvura bus ranks, where the air thickens at dusk with the scent of roasting meat and frying chips (French fries). Makeshift braai stands and corrugated-iron shelters have multiplied along Herbert Chitepo Street and around Moto-Moto, while in Rusape and Chipinge the pattern repeats at crowded termini, where vendors set up as commuters descend for their journey home.
The trade follows a quiet rhythm – most stalls appear late in the afternoon – once municipal police have knocked off duty, giving rise to a bustling evening economy that thrives beyond formal oversight.
For many residents, these stalls provide affordable, accessible meals after a long day, yet beneath the sizzle lies growing concern.
Charcoal braziers glow orange in the gathering dark as vendors, working with practiced speed, turn out steaming plates for weary travellers heading different destinations after a long day.
To many, these roadside kitchens offer more than convenience – they are an affordable lifeline, serving quick, filling meals that fit modest budgets. Yet beneath the sizzle and smoke lies a quieter, growing unease.
Urban authorities and health experts warn that the same stalls providing cheap sustenance may also be incubating risk.
With food often prepared in the open, exposed to dust, flies and inconsistent water supplies, such unhygienic conditions are ripe for cholera, dysentery, food poisoning, typhoid and other food-borne illnesses to take hold, turning a nightly ritual into a potential public health hazard.
Health experts caution that much of the food is prepared in conditions far from hygienic. Without running water, refrigeration, toilets or proper waste disposal, ingredients sit exposed to dust, flies and vehicle fumes. Utensils are rinsed in meagre supplies of water, often drawn from burst pipes, while chips and sausages are fried in oil reused until it blackens and smokes.
The risks extend beyond hygiene.
Gas stoves are routinely placed beside charcoal braziers, a volatile proximity that raises the spectre of fires and explosions amid the evening crowds.
What began as a pragmatic response to urban hunger has, in the absence of regulation, become a public health and safety fault line running through the heart of Manicaland’s cities. In Rusape, the cat-and-mouse game between council officers and illegal food vendors plays out nightly against the backdrop of economic strain.
Rusape Town Council public relations officer, Mr Lloyd Makumana said enforcement teams regularly drives away the vendors, but they return within hours, driven by the need to earn a living.
Street food vending remains strictly prohibited under the Public Health Act and local by-laws, yet enforcement is an uneven battle.
“They keep coming back because of economic pressures,” he explained.
The council is drawing up plans to expand formal markets so that vendors can operate inside proper buildings with water, sanitation and waste facilities.
For now, the problem persists most visibly at Vengere Bus Terminus, where meals are prepared a few metres from the public toilets.
The proximity, health officials warn, undermines basic hygiene and exposes commuters to unnecessary risk.
“Street food vending is prohibited under the Public Health Act and our own by-laws on food vending. Monitoring is continuous and ongoing, although the intensity varies from time to time and area to area. Legal vending spaces are always available to those who want them. We do not permit street food vending; it is a health nuisance and is strictly prohibited.
“However, it is important to note that the proliferation of illegal vending across the country cannot be viewed in isolation from the macroeconomic situation, which is characterised by high informality. Measures are being put in place to formalise these activities. We are incorporating market stands into all our layouts, for instance at the Mabvazuwa Turn-off commercial development and CBD extension sites. We are also engaging vendors to take up planned sites and comply with health and safety regulations. The council is additionally engaging private developers to partner with us in providing formal market sites,” said Mr Makumana.
Chipinge Town Council chairman, Councillor Kingston Dhlumo said the council is grappling with an influx of food vendors in open spaces, and now regrets not removing them when their numbers were still manageable.
He added that plans are underway to accommodate vendors in standard buildings and clear them from the streets.
“The issue of street food vending is affecting us significantly. Unfortunately, it was left unattended for some time, and a number of residents now depend on this illegal activity for their livelihoods. The vendors are concentrated outside the CBD, with a few now moving into the city centre. We are trying to create alternative spaces where they can operate legally, in safe and hygienic conditions.
“We are designing small shops and cabins where one can operate a registered restaurant. They will have all the necessary amenities, including running water, ablution facilities, proper waste management and other requirements,” said Councillor Dhlumo.
In Mutare’s public spaces, the line between enterprise and hazard, has all, but vanished, leaving a scene that feels less like a bustling evening market and more like a ticking time bomb. Along pavements and bus termini, charcoal braziers glow beneath makeshift canopies where rice, sadza and meat sizzle in open pans, the smoke mingling with exhaust fumes and dust kicked up by passing traffic.
Plates are served to commuters in seconds, the food often warm, cheap and unquestioned, yet prepared without running water, refrigeration or proper waste disposal.
Mutare City Council admits the problem is out of hand. Council spokesperson, Mr Charles Sadondo said questions were forwarded to the Health Department, but no expert was available to respond.
By the time of going to print, repeated follow-ups had yielded only promises of a reply that never came.
Officially, the local authority continues to denounce illegal street food preparation and vending, and periodically drives vendors off the streets. In practice, they return within hours, drawn back by demand and necessity.
For low-income workers and travellers, a full roadside plate costs a fraction of what formal restaurants charge, making it an everyday staple rather than an occasional indulgence.
But the convenience masks serious risk.
Food is cooked and served yards from open drains and public toilets, exposed to flies, dust and vehicle fumes. Utensils are rinsed in limited water, sometimes from burst pipes, while used cooking oil is reused until it turns black. Gas stoves sit beside charcoal braziers in cramped, crowded spots, a volatile arrangement that could ignite disaster. What sustains the city after dark may also be quietly undermining its health and safety.
