Theseus Shambare in MUTASA
THE name Tambudzai (surname withheld), which ironically means to torment when loosely translated, seemed to foretell her fate.
For Tambudzai, who was born into a family struggling with poverty, life was a constant battle.
Mutamangira village, nestled deep in Mutasa district, was a tapestry of contrasts.
Lush green hillsides gave way to parched fields and the vibrant laughter of children, often mingled with the hushed whispers of despair.
In this seemingly idyllic setting, a silent epidemic was spreading — child marriages.
Tambudzai, a mere shadow of the vibrant girl she once was, knew the weight of this silent epidemic all too well.
The whispers started subtly as rumours spread in the village.
“She is maturing too quickly,” they would say.
“It is time to find her a husband and secure her future.”
But the “future” they envisioned for her was a cage, a life of servitude and despair.
One moonless night four years ago, when she was 12, Tambudzai fled into the depths of the surrounding forest.
The air, thick with the scent of damp earth and the rustle of unseen creatures, both terrified and comforted her.
Each rustle of leaves, each hoot of an owl, was a heartbeat in the symphony of her fear.
Headman Cosmas Sakupwanya remembers the night vividly.
“The call came late,” he recalls, his voice heavy with the weight of the situation.
A young girl, trembling and afraid, was hiding in the forest.
“She was fleeing her home, terrified of an arranged marriage to an elderly man, a practice enforced by the strict rules of her family’s Apostolic sect.”
A child-focused hotline alerted the authorities to her situation, enabling her to escape.
A growing menace
According to the Ministry of Women Affairs, Community, Small and Medium Enterprises, 1 149 cases of gender-based violence (GBV) were reported in Mutasa district in 2024 alone.
In an interview recently, Mutasa district development officer Ms Sheila Mtetwa said GBV was of grave concern in the area.
“In 2024 alone, we have recorded 237 physical abuse cases, 80 sexual abuse cases, 482 emotional abuse cases, 174 economic abuse cases and 176 child marriages,” she said.
Economic hardships and dropping out of school increased the risk of child marriages as families sought to alleviate financial burdens.
In 2023, 1 174 cases of child marriages were recorded and 4 959 girls became pregnant nationwide.
Prevalence rates for child marriages in Zimbabwe remain unacceptably high.
An estimated 34 percent of girls are married before reaching 18 years and 5 percent before the age of 15.
These statistics paint a grim picture, highlighting the urgent need for interventions to protect children from harm.
However, the Government has committed to ending child marriages through the Marriages Act and has gazetted the Criminal Laws Amendment (Protection of Children and Young Persons) Bill, 2024.
These instruments criminalise the marriage and facilitation of a union of anyone under the age of 18.
To protect women and girls’ economic and social rights, experts say there is a need to fully invest in women to achieve the 2030 Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs).
But without a birth certificate, a crucial document that proves one’s identity and age, Tambudzai was even more vulnerable.
“Without proof of her age,” Headman Sakupwanya said, “we would have struggled to protect her. The law is clear, but without documentation, it is like trying to catch smoke.”
This incident, however, ignited a “fire” within the community.
Fighting the scourge
It highlighted the crucial role of community childcare workers (CCWs) under child protection committees — dedicated individuals who are the unsung heroes of their villages.
“We are more than just record keepers,” Sister Beauty Jiri, a CCW, told The Sunday Mail with a gentle smile.
“We are the eyes and ears of the community; the voice of the voiceless.”
Sister Winnie, her eyes reflecting a quiet strength, understands the deep-seated trauma of early marriage all too well.
Having endured the pain and isolation of an abusive childhood marriage, she is driven by fierce determination to protect children from the same fate.
Her visible facial scars, a stark reminder of an abusive relationship, fuel her efforts.
“I would never want another child to suffer the way I did,” she said, her voice firm with resolve.
“I will use my voice and my experiences to create a safer future for them.”
She is driven by dogged determination to protect children from the same fate.
“We work closely with families, explaining the importance of birth certificates,” said Mr Misheck Nyazika, another CCW.
“It is not just a piece of paper; it is a child’s passport to a better future, a guarantee of their rights and protection.”
CCWs go beyond paperwork as they are advocates, educators and counsellors.
They conduct community awareness campaigns, educating parents and community members about the dangers of child marriage and the importance of girls’ education.
Also, they identify vulnerable children, like Tambudzai, and connect them with necessary support services, such as counselling, legal aid and access to education.
All this was made possible by the training they undertook alongside traditional leaders from the Ministry of Public Service, Labour and Social Welfare, with support from UNICEF’s Child Protection Fund III, which is financed by the Swedish International Development Agency (SIDA).
It has significantly strengthened child protection efforts.
The training equipped them with the knowledge and skills to identify child protection risks, respond to child abuse cases and mobilise community support for child protection initiatives.
Headman Sakupwanya, a beneficiary of this training, now plays a more proactive role in safeguarding the rights of children in his community.
“We are building a safety net for our children,” says Mr Leonard Gohwa, a CCW, with a glint in his eyes.
“We are empowering them to break free from the chains of poverty, GBV and harmful traditional practices, and build a brighter future for themselves and their communities.”
The forest, once a place of fear for Tambudzai, now symbolises hope.
It whispers tales of courage, resilience and the unwavering dedication of those who champion the rights of children.
Thanks to the combined efforts of the community, Tambudzai was rescued.
She was placed in a safe house in Honde Valley, and with the support of well-wishers, she was able to continue her education.
Today, Tambudzai, now 16, is a vibrant young woman, pursuing her dreams of becoming a teacher.
She volunteers at the local school, sharing her story with children and inspiring them to break free from the chains of tradition and embrace a future filled with possibilities.
Her story serves as a powerful reminder that even in the face of adversity, hope can prevail.
It is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the unwavering dedication of those who champion the rights of children, working tirelessly to create a safer and more just future for all.