Linda Mujuru
Makaha, Mutoko—To Nyarai Mutize, a widow who has lived in Makaha since childhood, land once meant wealth, stability and inheritance.
When she got married, her husband inherited their land from his parents, and through it, they were able to raise their four children, grow food, and sustain their household.
But now, following her husband’s death and the rapid expansion of both artisanal and formal mining in the area, she says the land she once believed belonged to her family has been ravaged without compensation or alternative land to continue farming.
“They mine everywhere, and we can no longer grow crops like we used to. We have also resorted to gold mining as a means of surviving, and as a woman, some of these land disputes I cannot handle; they tend to be violent,” she said.
In the gold-rich communities of Makaha in eastern Zimbabwe, the promise of quick money has reshaped daily life. But beneath the surface of the booming artisanal mining economy lies a quieter, more enduring cost, one borne largely by women and children.
As artisanal gold mining expands across Makaha and various areas in Zimbabwe, it is not only transforming the local economy but also reshaping land ownership, livelihoods, and social dynamics in ways that disproportionately disadvantage women. With limited legal protection over land and exclusion from decision-making spaces, many women like Mutize are losing access to productive land, being pushed into precarious mining work, and navigating rising violence linked to mineral disputes. What is unfolding in this eastern Zimbabwean community reflects a broader national pattern, where the rush for gold is deepening gender inequalities and exposing the hidden social costs of informal mining.
According to a report by the Zimbabwe Environmental Lawyers Organisation (ZELO), Zimbabwe sits on vast mineral wealth, with its economy and the livelihoods of many citizens closely tied to natural resources. Yet the benefits of these resources remain largely out of reach for the wider population, hindered by weak governance, lack of transparency, elite control, and the politicisation of mining opportunities. Corruption and limited public participation in environmental decision-making further restrict communities from sharing in the sector’s economic gains.
For Mutize, mining has not brought prosperity, but disruption. Fields that once produced maize and groundnuts have been dug up, leaving behind open pits and scarred land. Without access to farmland, she now struggles to feed her family.
“Before the miners came, we relied on our land,” she said. “Now there is nothing to plant. I have to buy food, but I don’t have the money.”
A local female headman, Patience Munyoro said as agriculture declines, women are increasingly forced to find alternative ways to support their households, often turning to informal trading or low-paying jobs linked to mining. The burden of providing food, caring for children, and managing households has intensified, even as control over mining income largely remains with men.
Children, too, are being drawn into the mining economy. Munyoro said it is increasingly common to see boys working at mining sites, digging, carrying ore, or panning for gold in rivers. Some have dropped out of school entirely, while others juggle long hours of labour with irregular school attendance.
Farai Maguwu, director of the Centre for Natural Resource Governance (CNRG), adds that women in rural Zimbabwe are the custodians of food, relying on land for production and household survival.
“The new form of mining in Zimbabwe is characterised by brazen land grabbing, leaving women without the means of production. In Buhera, rural families were forced off their land and given US$1,950 as compensation. Some had houses built for them at Murambinda growth point, with no employment, no land, and no source of livelihood. They were condemned to poverty and food insecurity,” he said.
Maguwu added that in such circumstances, men often move around in search of employment, while women remain behind due to caregiving responsibilities, further limiting their mobility and economic options.
Mthandazo Muhau, the chairperson of United Women Miners Association agrees with Magguwu and adds that there are a lot of court cases involving the miner and the farmer.
“Most of the times the mine claims are located within the farms and the according to the law, as long as the farm is more than 100 hectares you are free to peg without even notifying the land owner, and it usually does not go well with the farmer,” she said.
She adds that there is a growing number of women leaving the farming industry and joining the mining industry in search of stability and because of these land disputes they decide to just join in.
The risks associated with artisanal mining are significant, miners in Makaha use makeshift equipment and often operate without adequate protective clothing. The sector is largely unregulated adds Maguwu exposing workers and communities to dangerous conditions, including collapsing pits and the use of toxic chemicals such as mercury.
Despite these challenges, Munyoro notes that there has been little meaningful intervention to regulate artisanal mining or protect vulnerable groups, especially women.
The situation reflects a broader national trend, where gold mining, one of Zimbabwe’s key economic sectors, continues to expand, often in rural areas with limited oversight.
Zimbabwe has generated billions of dollars from gold sales in recent years, cementing the mineral as the country’s leading export. In 2025 alone, gold exports, according to the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe (RBZ), were valued at approximately US$4.8 billion, accounting for nearly half of the country’s total export earnings. In 2024, gold brought in about US$2.5 billion following a surge in global prices and production. Earlier data also shows that earnings reached around US$3.76 billion in the first ten months of 2025.
Maguwu says this wealth is not reflected in mining communities.
“I don’t know of any community that has benefited from mining in Zimbabwe. Places like the Midlands should be wealthier than Polokwane, given the billions extracted from that province annually. In Marange, where at least 7 million carats are produced each year, there are shocking levels of poverty,” he said.
“Mining in Zimbabwe is not linked to local development, which is why there is growing resentment towards mining across the country. People feel it is benefiting only those with power and guns,” he added.
As the sun sets over the pitted landscape of Makaha, Mutize prepares a simple meal for her children. The land that once sustained them is gone, replaced by the uncertain promise of gold.
“We are left with the problems,” she said. “The gold is not for us.”