In northern Zimbabwe’s Mudzi district, a grim scene unfolds along the once-flowing Vombozi River, now reduced to a stretch of beige sand. Local residents, armed with shovels and buckets, dig desperately into the dry riverbed, searching for the last drops of water in what has become one of the worst droughts in living memory across southern Africa.
The crisis, affecting nearly 70 million people across the region, has left communities without adequate food and water. In Kurima village, the Vombozi River, typically a year-round water source, has completely dried up, forcing an increasing number of people to converge on this single location.
Gracious Phiri, a 43-year-old mother of five, describes her daily three-hour journey to fetch water. “I have never seen anything like this,” she tells the BBC, lowering her bucket into a half-meter wide hole to draw brown-colored water. Phiri expresses concern about her family’s health, noting that livestock drink from the same pits as humans. “It is not very healthy,” she adds.
The water scarcity is compounded by a severe food shortage affecting 7.7 million people in Zimbabwe alone. In Mudzi, local health authorities report that the number of families with access to sufficient, affordable, and nutritious food has dropped by more than half compared to previous years. Children have been particularly hard hit, with hospital admissions for moderate to severe malnutrition doubling since June.
A village feeding program attempts to address the crisis by providing nutrient-enriched porridge for children under five once a week. However, the initiative faces its own challenges as food stocks dwindle. Kudzai Madamombe, Mudzi district’s medical officer, explains that the El Niño-induced drought has reduced the program from three times a week to just once, with the possibility of complete cessation within a month.
The drought’s impact extends beyond food security. A quarter of the district’s clinics have lost their water supply as boreholes run dry. The major dam in the district has only a month’s supply of water remaining, forcing the suspension of vegetable irrigation schemes that once supported hundreds of local farmers.
Tambudzai Mahachi, a 36-year-old farmer, exemplifies the widespread suffering. Despite planting acres of maize, cow-peas, and peanuts, she harvested nothing. “We have gone from eating what we want and when we want to limiting meals,” Mahachi says, now relying on charitable donations to feed her children.
The crisis extends across southern Africa, where most agriculture depends on rainfall rather than irrigation. About a third of the countries in the region have declared states of disaster, with an estimated 68 million people in need of food aid. The Southern African Development Community (SADC) appealed for $5.5 billion in aid in May, but only a fraction has been received.
Tomson Phiri, southern African spokesperson for the UN World Food Programme (WFP), warns that the situation is set to worsen. “Family granaries are empty, and maize, which is the region’s most consumed carbohydrate, is now priced out of many people’s hands,” he says. The WFP has received only one-fifth of the $400 million needed for emergency assistance.
The region faces its largest maize deficit in 15 years, with the hunger and water crisis expected to peak in October, traditionally the hottest and driest month. Even if rains arrive in November or December, farmers won’t be able to harvest maize until March.
BCC.com
