Online Reporter
Veronica Gwaze and Media Mpofu, Zimpapers Sports Hub
FOR decades, Zimbabwean women in football have survived on grit alone, no glory, no spotlight, no support. But for the first time in years, something has changed. The doors are open. The voices are being heard. And this time, change feels possible.
They have trained in dust. Played through pain. Fought for jerseys, boots, and respect. For years, Zimbabwe’s women footballers have toiled in near-invisibility, proving their passion in the margins, often without pay, support, or acknowledgment.
But this week, something extraordinary is happening: those same women are being called to the table, not as spectators, but as architects of the future.
The Zimbabwe Football Association (Zifa), under its new executive, has partnered with Fifa to launch a sweeping national consultation aimed at reshaping the women’s game. The mission is bold: build a grassroots-driven strategy for women’s football that reflects Zimbabwe’s lived realities, not just policy rhetoric.
And for many, the timing couldn’t be more critical.
The sessions kicked off yesterday in Harare, with stops in Gweru, Bulawayo, and Masvingo lined up through the week. But beyond the logistics, these engagements carry emotional weight. For the women who’ve kept football alive in townships, schools, and neglected clubhouses, this is the first time in years anyone has asked them what they need.
“We’ve been doing this in silence for too long,” said veteran coach Chido Manzira, who runs a girls’ team in Highfield. “Now, for the first time, I feel like our sweat might count for something.”
Leading the process is Zifa Vice President Loveness Mukura, a rare high-level voice advocating fiercely for women’s football. Mukura is under no illusions about the enormity of the task.
“Our structures are broken,” she admitted at the Harare session. “We’re underfunded. Players are often unpaid, ridiculed, or forced to train on cow pastures. But we’re here because that has to change, and the only way to fix this is to listen first, then act.”
Mukura stressed that these consultations are more than talk shops. They are meant to birth an actionable blueprint that ZIFA can implement, with FIFA’s financial and technical support, over the coming years.
And with FIFA in the room, hopes are rising.
Facilitating the meetings is Thubelihle Sibanda, a Fifa Women’s Football Technical Expert and former Zimbabwe international who knows both the struggle and the strategy. She’s supported football development programmes in over a dozen countries, from Namibia to South Africa and even Saudi Arabia. Now, she’s back on home soil, bringing with her a rare mix of global expertise and local understanding.
“This isn’t about copy-pasting solutions from other countries,” Sibanda said. “Zimbabwe’s challenges are unique. Our plan has to come from our people, players, coaches, administrators, and legends who have lived this game through every high and heartbreak.”
Sibanda, who holds multiple coaching diplomas and a Fifa/CIES Master’s degree in Sport Management, has already supported over 25 Fifa development programmes worldwide. Her experience working with youth, university teams, and national sides gives her a panoramic view of what works, and what doesn’t.
But she’s clear: no plan, however well-written, will work unless the community believes in it.
That’s why Mpopoma Sports Academy director James Rugwevera, one of Bulawayo’s leading football voices, says this consultation should have happened long ago.
“If you don’t start at the grassroots, you miss the whole picture,” Rugwevera said. “It’s these young girls, these teams without sponsors or stadia, that show you where we’re failing. That’s where the revival has to start.”
Indeed, what emerged from the Harare session was sobering: neglected pitches, unpaid players, abandoned leagues, and no media coverage. The women’s game isn’t just underfunded, it’s virtually forgotten.
λ Full story on www.chronicle.co.zw
But the mood wasn’t one of despair. It was resolve. The kind forged not in privilege, but in persistence.
In Bulawayo, anticipation is building. Development coaches, school teams, and retired legends are preparing to add their voices, with hopes that this isn’t another listening exercise that leads nowhere.
ZIFA, under the leadership of president Nqobile Magwizi and his executive elected in January, says this marks a turning point. The consultations, they say, are part of a broader commitment to inclusive football growth.
“This is only the beginning,” said a ZIFA official. “The goal is to take what’s shared in these sessions and build a working document that doesn’t sit in a drawer, but drives real investment, real reform, and real opportunity.”
For the women at the heart of Zimbabwean football, that promise carries both hope and hard-earned skepticism. They’ve seen plans before. What they haven’t seen, until now, is a system that listens.
But this week, in school halls and community centers across the country, the message is clear: we see you, we hear you, and this time, we’re building with you.
If these voices lead to action, Zimbabwean women’s football could begin a new chapter, not one of survival, but of rise and recognition.
Because after everything they’ve endured, these women are no longer asking for permission to play.
They’re demanding their place in the game. And finally, finally, it looks like they might get it.
