Today, Zimbabwe mourns.
We mourn the lives lost on Lake Kariba after the passenger ferry Mbuya Nehanda capsized near Long Island. At the time of writing, authorities and news reports say at least 15 people have died, 77 have been rescued, and 27 remain unaccounted for as search and rescue operations continue.
Behind those numbers are human beings.
Someone’s mother. Someone’s father. Someone’s child. Someone who left home expecting to return.
To every family waiting anxiously for news, to those who have received the news they feared most, and to the communities around Kariba affected by this tragedy, we extend our deepest condolences.
May the departed rest in peace. May those still missing be found. May the injured recover. And may those who survived find strength after witnessing something few of us can imagine.
A Disaster Zimbabwe Is Not Accustomed To
Zimbabweans are painfully familiar with tragedy on our roads.
Particularly around public holidays, our newspapers and social media feeds too often carry reports of buses overturning, vehicles colliding and families losing loved ones while travelling to visit relatives, attend celebrations or simply return home.
We have almost developed a grim national vocabulary around road accidents.
But this tragedy feels different.
Zimbabwe is a landlocked country. Although we have magnificent lakes, rivers and dams, mass-casualty passenger disasters on water are not something most Zimbabweans regularly contemplate.
Lake Kariba is associated in our national imagination with fishing, tourism, hydroelectric power and breathtaking sunsets.
Today, that water carries grief.
And perhaps that unfamiliarity should force us to ask a difficult question:
What do we do as a nation when disaster strikes?
The Name Mbuya Nehanda
There is another dimension to this tragedy which many Zimbabweans will inevitably discuss.
The vessel was named Mbuya Nehanda.
For Zimbabweans, that is no ordinary name.
Nehanda occupies a powerful place within our history, spirituality, liberation memory and national consciousness. And we Zimbabweans — whether Christian, traditionalist, secular or somewhere between these identities — remain a people deeply conscious of signs, names, ancestors, coincidence and symbolism.
We should therefore not be surprised if conversations emerge about the significance of a vessel bearing the name Mbuya Nehanda meeting such a terrible fate.
Some will call it coincidence.
Some will search for spiritual meaning.
Some will ask whether there is a message in it.
Others will reject such interpretations entirely.
That conversation is part of who we are.
But we must be careful.
Superstition must never become a substitute for investigation.
Before we ask what, the ancestors are saying, we must also ask what the evidence is saying.
Reports indicate that authorities are examining the circumstances surrounding the ferry’s passenger load, with accounts suggesting it may have been carrying more people than its rated capacity.
Those questions must now be answered through a thorough, transparent investigation.
Was the vessel seaworthy?
Was it properly maintained?
How many passengers was it certified to carry?
How many people were actually aboard?
Were there enough life jackets for every passenger, including children?
Were emergency procedures followed?
What regulations govern passenger vessels on Lake Kariba, and were they enforced?
These are not questions of politics. They are questions of life and death.
We Must Learn Before We Forget
Zimbabwe has experienced terrible disasters before.
Our problem is sometimes not that tragedy teaches us nothing. It is that we learn intensely for a few days — and then forget.
There are condolences.
There are speeches.
There are photographs.
There are promises of investigations.
Then another story dominates national conversation.
Until another tragedy occurs.
That cycle must end.
Every national disaster should leave behind more than graves. It should leave behind reforms that make the next disaster less likely.
The Mbuya Nehanda tragedy should trigger a comprehensive review of passenger water transport in Zimbabwe: vessel inspections, licensing, passenger limits, crew training, emergency communications, life jackets, rescue capacity and enforcement.
If weaknesses are discovered, they must be corrected.
If regulations exist but are ignored, they must be enforced.
And if negligence is ultimately established, accountability must follow.
Our Public Holidays and the Shadow of Death
There is also a wider national conversation worth having.
Zimbabweans have long remarked, sometimes almost superstitiously, that periods of national celebration seem repeatedly accompanied by horrific accidents.
Christmas.
Easter.
Independence celebrations.
Heroes’ holidays.
Long weekends.
Whenever large numbers of people travel, tragedy seems to follow.
Perhaps there is nothing supernatural about it. Increased travel naturally creates increased exposure to risk. Overcrowding, fatigue, speeding, alcohol, poorly maintained vehicles and pressure on transport systems can turn celebration into catastrophe.
But whether we interpret the pattern statistically, culturally or spiritually, the response should be the same:
National holidays should not routinely become national mourning days.
Safety campaigns must therefore become more than seasonal slogans.
When Disaster Strikes, We Become One People
There will be time for questions.
There will be time for investigations.
There must eventually be time for accountability.
But today there must also be compassion.
Disaster does not ask which political party we support.
The waters of Kariba do not distinguish between Shona, Ndebele, Tonga, Korekore, Zezuru, Kalanga, Venda or Ndau.
Death does not request our tribe, religion or social status before entering a family.
At moments such as this, perhaps Zimbabwe is reminded of something we too easily forget: before all our divisions, we are human beings sharing one country and one fragile existence.
So today we mourn together.
We pray with those still waiting beside phones for news.
We stand with the rescuers searching the waters.
We embrace, in spirit, families preparing to bury people who left home never imagining that this journey would be their last.
And when the mourning eventually subsides, Zimbabwe must ask the harder question:
What must we change so that mourning produces learning?
Because the greatest tribute we can pay to those who have died is not merely to say rest in peace.
It is to make sure that where human action can prevent the next tragedy, we act.
To the families affected by the Mbuya Nehanda disaster, and to the nation of Zimbabwe: our deepest condolences.
May the waters return those still missing to their families.
May Zimbabwe find strength in this hour of sorrow.
Rest in peace.
