Back to Index

Where's the water? Stories from Bulawayo - Page 2
Marko Phiri and Chumile Jamela, Kubatana.net
November 2012

Next page, Previous page

Nkulumane High Density Suburb
. . . teeming shopping centre, single public toilet

At one of Nkulumane's busiest shopping centres, koSekusile, there is one public toilet. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

Meet Sibusisiwe Dube (aged 24), a new mum. She stays with her husband and mother-in-law in Nkulumane 12. She went to the council-owned Nkulumane clinic to deliver, and like everywhere else, there was no running water at the clinic. Sorry, no bowser consideration for expectant mothers! "I had to get my husband to bring me a bucket of water," she says. Despite all the emphasis on the crucial role water, proper sanitation and hygiene play in maternal health, she and her baby did not have a proper bath during the two days she was hospitalised. She had what they call a "dry wash" - just wipe the essentials/the hidden parts with a wet towel and you are clean for the day, if not week. "Not all women who were at the clinic to deliver had enough water and we had to share," Dube says. She says this is the place that taught her humility, because without water, "you had to swallow your pride and reach out to others for help. You will actually be surprised . . . not all women who come to deliver have visitors, husbands, boyfriends and so on. And it's tough for these women who need water among other things such as food," says Dube. She had to share her water with some woman from Emganwini suburb who had no visitors for the duration of her stay.

Tinashe Manatsa (aged 46) is a single father of three. His wife died three years back and now he's left to take care of the kids. He cannot afford house help on his salary. He works as a teacher in one of the many colleges that have sprouted up in Bulawayo. The three kids are all in primary school, and being kids, cannot collect enough water for their daily requirements. The father knocks off late and by then the municipality boreholes have been disconnected for fear of vandalism at night. The toilet is always a mess he says, as he cannot tell his young children to "control their toilet habits." "It is during the days when the taps are running that I try to stock up, but it's never enough," he says. "Kids are kids and are not conservation aware," Manatsa says. When asked if he had any plans to remarry Manatsa responded: "Why? Because of water? Soon the rains will come and this will all be ancient history." Everyone in the city surely hopes so.

At the home of Msizi Sibanda (aged 52), for the past three days mourners have gathered for a funeral, and for the past three days the taps have been dry. The stench from the toilet is unbearable so the father of the deceased young man instructs one of his sons to lock the toilet so mourners cannot use it. For anyone pressed by the call of nature, well, tough luck. The thin shrubbery close to the house becomes the only option for the mourners, at least for men, but Sibanda warns, "there is no squatting behind the bush during day time." Meanwhile some women are asked to take buckets and go to the borehole to collect cooking and drinking water for the mourners. "We are already going through a difficult time trying to come to terms with the tragedy that befell us. Now we have to deal with this water situation as well," Sibanda says.

Faith Mapuranga (aged 32) is a mother of three young children. Mapuranga's youngest child is just over a year old. She has to fill up containers when the water comes but what scares her most is the danger this poses to her children. Tragedy has befallen many a family after a mother or maid left a pail of water filled with laundry sitting somewhere and a toddler has drowned. Mapuranga is concerned. "I do not like filling these containers with water with this young boy around," she says referring to her 1-year-old child. "I have to keep so vigilant and I am always afraid about the danger that we live with because of this water. Children drown in these containers but whom do you blame when that happens? People will say I am reckless but if there was water in our taps, I wouldn't be worrying like this," she says. She is one of many parents for whom the water crisis has presented a deeply emotional dimension; the death of a child is something not meant for contemplation no matter what the circumstances. Some kids have drowned in these high-density townships where there are no swimming pools. Surely this is enough to make Bulawayo's water problems a very storied crisis that requires urgent addressing?

Tadzirai Mombeshora (aged 42) is an artisan in one of the few companies still in operating in Bulawayo. Mombeshora was arrested one weekend for public drinking, an offence that normally carries a $5 fine. He says because he refused to pay a bribe to the arresting officers, they decided to "fix" him by throwing him in the cells without giving him a chance to pay the fine. "The first thing that hits you as you enter the windowless cell is the stench. It was like something had died in there," he says. "There is a toilet inside the cell, but the toilet is flushed from outside by the police, at their discretion," Mombeshora reports. But some men who had been "inside" for a few days told him that at times the police only flush once a day, and that's on days when there is water. On the day that Mombeshora was arrested, there hadn't been water for two days and in a small cell with more than ten men relieving themselves, the stench is unbearable. "I don't care what offense is committed, no one deserves to be in a place like that. Those were the worst hours of my life." Water is a human right, even for incarcerated people.

Next page, Previous page

Download full story

Visit the Kubatana.net fact sheet

Please credit www.kubatana.net if you make use of material from this website. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License unless stated otherwise.

TOP