Online Reporter
Rutendo Nyeve, [email protected]
AT 47 years old, Philani Moyo is a familiar face in Chisuma Village, just on the edge of Victoria Falls.
To the holidaymakers looking for a thrill, he is a world-class rafting guide who knows the water better than anyone.
But to the families standing on the banks in tears, or the rescue teams working against the clock, he is something much more important. He is the man who steps into the crashing waves of the Zambezi when all other hope is fading away.
Over the years, Moyo has gently brought home more than 30 people from the river’s deep pull. He is the one the community calls for drowning victims, whether they are tourists, local fishermen, or people swept away during church services. Born in 1979, his life has always been tied to the water. He first trained as a guide back in 1995, starting a journey that would take him all over the globe before bringing him back home to save lives.
“The Zambezi was my classroom, but the world became my training ground,” he says.
His skills were sharpened on some of the most dangerous rivers on earth. In 1999, he travelled to Italy to train other guides and compete in kayaking races. From there, he worked his way through the mountains of Austria and Switzerland, and then on to the rivers of Spain, France, and Peru. Eventually, he landed in the United States, where he spent 12 years navigating the wild rapids of Colorado. It was there that he truly mastered the rescue skills that would later save so many people back in Zimbabwe.
When he finally returned home, he started his own business, Shockwave Rafting. But he soon realised his job was about more than just tourism.
“We started encountering drowning incidents on the Zambezi. That’s when rescue work became part of our responsibility to the community,” Moyo says.
He has been called to many heartbreaking scenes, including the time he had to find two young football players who drowned while visiting the Falls.
“We were there to retrieve them,” he says simply.
His toughest challenge came in 2019 during the floods of Cyclone Idai. When the water destroyed everything in Chimanimani, the national rescue teams asked for his help.
“When water is moving that fast, you need people who can read the current. We are trained to deal with three, four, even five-metre waves and understand how to manoeuvre in chaos,” he explains.
Even just last week, he was back in the water, searching for two members of an apostolic church who were lost during a baptism.
“It was a very difficult operation, but we managed to recover them,” he says.
In the three-day operation, the whitewater guide led a daring mission to recover two victims swept away during a baptism on the Zambezi River last Saturday.
Moyo and his team navigated over 20 kilometres of the furious Zambezi River from Rapid 6, battling currents swollen by seasonal rains.
“We kayaked into chaos. The water was high and powerful, making every rapid a potential trap,” he said.
Using a single kayak added immense risk, with little stability in the churning water. The first recovery came at Rapid 8, where they located one body.
“It was a gruesome sight, battered by rocks,” Moyo said.
The team carefully secured the remains to the kayak, rafting to a point where other rescuers could assist. Then came the exhausting climb, hauling the body up a near-vertical 200-metre gorge, a gruelling ascent under the rains.
The second body was reported sighted near Rapid 13, another 10 kilometres downstream. As darkness fell on Tuesday, the team made the difficult decision to halt.
“We had to stop. It was too dangerous to proceed at night,” Moyo said.
He said they faced the reality that the strong current could carry the body 30 kilometres further by morning.
However, the following day they commenced their search and rescue operation at Rapid Number 11 and were fortunate to locate the body near Rapid 13.
The Zambezi River is a beautiful but dangerous place. Even when it looks calm, it can turn violent in a second, and its famous rapids have taken many lives over the years. Yet, in the middle of that roar, Moyo is a steady and kind presence. He doesn’t do this work for fame or trophies. For him, the reason is much more personal.
“It’s about bringing closure,” he says.
In a place where the river can be so cruel, Moyo has become its protector — a man who measures success not in medals, but in the peace he gives back to families who have lost everything.
