Once Upon a Family

Once Upon a Family, Part 2

Chitungwiza – the third largest and fastest growing high density town in Zimbabwe lies 30 kilometers from Harare, and came into existence in 1978, deriving its name from a spiritual medium's shrine.

In 1996, the town gained full municipal status, but till this day, it lacks an independent water purification plant to supply its residents with safe drinking water – hence its reliance on Harare for its daily allocations. The Chitungwiza Aquatic Complex, constructed in 1995 for the All Africa Games is now redundant. The 2012 census accounted for 321 782 residents in Chitungwiza, but the total population is estimated to be more than one million.

Accumulating debts by the municipality and residents induce persistent water cuts, resulting in marathon days without essential supplies. A railway line mooted in the late 90s remains a pipedream. Over the years, this sprawling dormitory municipality has suffered gravely from unplanned urbanisation. Hordes of residents and businesses were displaced by Operation Murambatsvina in 2005, when their structures deemed illegal, were flattened.

From a distance, local lads witnessed in disbelief as their parents were shepherded to countless mandatory political gatherings. Any form of resistance by any soul attracted grave reprimand for the whole clan. The formation of more formidable opposition parties at the turn of the millennium increased the political scrutiny by the ruling party against supposed rivals. At the mandatory rallies, reluctant followers would spend more time than they had budgeted for.

Across the suburb, a bevy of women and children cheered, their bodies slumping with buckets of water but somehow they all wore rare smiles of reprieve. One plump woman suddenly burst out.

"We finally got the water after a long wait. It has been a while. Four days without running water is just enough punishment. I don't know how they expect us to survive without both water and electricity. This is a basic human need after all."

So this was the reason for this infrequent jubilation.

Water problems have haunted the populous town for decades as confirmed by Chitungwiza Residents Association (CHIRA), in 2017, a decade later.

"The water situation has forced many families in Chitungwiza to rely on water from shallow wells or boreholes further exposing citizens to a danger of contracting diarrheal diseases. Those in need of water are now expected to walk for distances in search of this precious liquid."

The group of women hopped over streams of raw sewage spitted by unattended burst pipes in a synchronised style. Was this another contender for the Olympics or Guinness book of records? Their daily chores were tedious, consuming most of their day at dotted, yawning water holes, posing dangers of drowning. Collectively, they somehow balanced the weight of buckets without spilling even a precious drop.

Still they managed to avoid the dirt. The unbroken streams of mess drifted in the opposite direction, percolating the crust to form a part of the water table where they fetched the liquid, contaminating the majority of groundwater sources, authorities established. If they could not afford water treatment to maintain steady supplies, then there was always an option – never mind its obvious detriments.

Across the street, aman pushed a cart loaded with water vessels. In the local cynical lingo, theyare called 'waterprenures' – a term reserved for human water merchants,transporting the prized liquid drawn from public boreholes for resale at aprime rate. Sixty litres retails for $1.