Bulawayo’s lost generation: The street children crisis

Sharon Muchara

The setting sun casts long shadows across Lobengula Street as 11-year-old Nkosilathi* arranges his cardboard shelter for the night. He shares the cramped space with three other boys, their only protection against the coming winter chill a single threadbare blanket.

This scene repeats itself nightly across Bulawayo, where Zimbabwe’s economic collapse has created a generation of children who call the streets home.

Nkosilathi’s story echoes hundreds of others in the city. “My father went to Botswana in 2021 to find work,” he explains, his voice barely audible over the honking traffic. “At first he called every week, then the phone stopped working. When they took our house, my brother and I came here.”

Nearby, 14-year-old Andile* wipes down car windshields at a red light, her arms bearing scars that tell a darker story. “My stepfather beat me every day after mother died,” she says matter-of-factly. “The streets are safer than home.”

This crisis stems from multiple interwoven factors that have created a perfect storm of childhood displacement. Zimbabwe’s economic collapse has left a high number of youth unemployed, with average families surviving on less than $30 a month. Many parents have made the desperate decision to migrate to South Africa or Botswana in search of work, with some street children cases involving parents who left and never made contact again.

Official documents from the Ministry of Public Service reveal a sobering reality. Zimbabwe currently has 12 000 registered orphans and vulnerable children, yet only 35% find placement in formal care institutions. In Bulawayo alone, the city council documented 287 cases of children living on the streets during their 2023 count. The three government-run children’s homes in Matabeleland Province, already operating at 180% capacity, cannot meet this growing need.  

Life on the streets follows a brutal routine. The children wake before dawn to avoid police raids, then fan out across the city to beg at morning traffic for breakfast money. By mid-morning, they scavenge through market waste bins for discarded produce.

Afternoons are spent washing cars for $1 per vehicle, a dangerous job that leaves them vulnerable to abuse. As evening falls, they must fight to secure sleeping spots in territories controlled by older street gangs. “Newcomers get the worst locations – near sewers or in completely open areas,” explains social worker Noma Dube, who has worked with street children for fifteen years.

The health consequences are devastating. Clinic surveys show that most street children suffer chronic malnutrition. These physical pains are compounded by psychological trauma that manifests in substance abuse, aggression, and deepening despair.

Amid this tragedy, glimmers of hope emerge from community efforts. Zimkids Orphanage currently houses 45 children and provides schooling through donor support. Their March donation drive equipped 30 children with school supplies and uniforms. The Switch Arts Collective takes a different approach, using drama therapy to address trauma while teaching marketable skills like beadwork. The Youth in Politics Initiative focuses on vocational training and a patriotism curriculum designed to rebuild identity and purpose.

International partners provide supplemental support. UNICEF Zimbabwe maintains 12 operational child protection committees in Bulawayo, which successfully reunited 143 children with their families last year. However, the Bulawayo City Council’s 2023 annual report highlights persistent gaps, including inadequate funding for child protection services and a critical shortage of transitional housing for adolescents. 

Social entrepreneur, David Moyo suggests a more sustainable approach: “We need industrial training centers – teach welding, farming, computing. Handouts won’t break the cycle.”

As night falls again over Bulawayo, hundreds of children prepare for another dangerous night on the streets. Their resilience shines through in quiet moments – many still dream of being teachers, nurses, or mechanics. But without urgent intervention, their potential may be forever lost to the harsh realities of street life. For now, they survive as best they can, their childhoods slipping away one cold night at a time.

*Names changed to protect minors