dyton mupawaenda
Thupeyo Muleya
In the heart of Zimbabwe’s Matabeleland South Province, a quiet revolution is unfolding.
The “Not in My Village” (NIMV) programme, spearheaded by the National AIDS Council (NAC) in partnership with UNFPA, is mobilising communities against twin epidemics: HIV/AIDS and child marriages.
What makes this initiative remarkable is not just its ambitious goals, but how it is being achieved — through the very fabric of traditional community structures.
The numbers tell an urgent story. Matabeleland South bears one of Zimbabwe’s heaviest HIV burdens, with a prevalence rate of 17,3 percent that far exceeds the national average.
Last year alone, health workers recorded 5 700 teenage pregnancies across the province, with border districts like Beitbridge seeing nearly one in four girls married before adulthood. These aren’t just statistics — they represent futures cut short, potential unrealised.
But in village after village, a counter-movement is growing.
Chief Sibasa of Insiza district has taken to imposing fines — sometimes demanding a cow as penalty — from families who marry off underage daughters.
“We cannot call ourselves leaders if we allow our children to be traded like cattle,” he declares, his voice carrying the weight of generations of authority.
Nearby in Beitbridge, Chief Tshitaudze has issued stern warnings: “Those who prey on our girls will answer to the whole community.”
The programme’s strength lies in its deep community roots.
Local women like Ayanda Moyo from Stezi report seeing real change since peer educators began their work.
“Before, these marriages happened in silence,” she said. “Now when someone tries it, three neighbours will report it before sunset.”
Young men gather in “Male Engagement” circles, unlearning harmful notions of masculinity, while community health workers like Dorcas Mpofu train villagers in groups of twenty at a time, week after week.
Yet challenges remain persistent.
The very economic desperation that drives some families to marry off daughters — the artisanal mines, the cross-border trading — continues to lure young girls into vulnerable situations.
And while traditional leaders have shown remarkable commitment, their authority needs reinforcement through formal legal channels.
As the afternoon sun casts long shadows across Gwanda’s red soil, Chief Mathema gathers his headmen.
His message is simple but revolutionary: “This is our culture to change.”
In these words lies the programme’s radical promise — not waiting for outside solutions, but harnessing the power of the community itself to write a new future.
With each village that joins the movement, with each girl who stays in school, Matabeleland South is showing what can happen when a people decide: enough is enough.
The road ahead remains long, but the message ringing through the province’s dusty footpaths is clear — some things will no longer be tolerated.
Not in this village. Not in any village.
Online Reporter