What Happens To Zimbabwe’s Teenagers When They Can’t Afford Menstrual Care and Clean Water
- Derick Matsengarwodzi
- 1 hour ago
- 7 min read
For 14-year-old T.K., her first period was a nightmare. Her blue school uniform was soaked in blood, and before she could act, the classroom burst into laughter and whispers.
T.K. was in her first year at a public secondary school in Harare, Zimbabwe’s capital and largest city. With an attendance rate of around 70% and a fondness for sports and acting, she performed reasonably well in school. But nothing had prepared her for the shock of menstruation — the sudden changes in her body, the public embarrassment, and the deep-rooted stigma that shadowed the experience. “When I first got my period, I wished I could just run away and wanted all this to stop, because it was so embarrassing,” T.K. recalled.
What truly broke T.K.’s spirit was the realization that her family couldn’t afford the sanitary napkins she needed. In her six-member household, only her parents — both vendors — were earning, bringing in less than $200 a month. It was barely enough to cover food and essentials, let alone spend $3 each month on sanitary pads for the three girls in the family, including T.K.
“When I first got my period, I wished I could just run away and wanted all this to stop, because it was so embarrassing.”
Every month when she got her period, T.K. used old newspapers or pieces of cloth — an unhygienic yet necessary menstrual practice for a young woman who had no other choice. This kept her out of the school premises for at least three days every month. “Without the necessary period material, I have often skipped school and missed a number of lessons. My friends used to always mock me when I didn’t have the pads,” she said.
T.K. was always bubbly and confident. But repeated mockery from classmates and frequent absences from school took a toll — her grades slipped, and at times, she found herself at the bottom of the class.
A Harsh Reality
Millions of Zimbabweans share T.K.’s plight. Period poverty, a situation where women cannot afford menstrual hygiene products, affects the health, education, and dignity of countless women and girls in the country. It often leads to missed school days, use of unhygienic alternatives and deepening gender inequality.
In 2022, independent organizations and legislators urged the government to enact laws that require the country to provide menstrual products for free to underprivileged women and girls. However, this has not materialized, even though a section of private companies and NGOs distributed menstrual hygiene kits to school girls.
Even employed women are forced to prioritise survival needs, which leaves menstrual hygiene low on the list. Loice Muparidzi, a 32-year-old woman from Chitungwiza, 25 km (15 miles) outside Harare, is employed at a local supermarket in Harare, earning a salary of $120 per month. Her monthly period lasts for almost 14 days, which requires her to buy at least six to eight packets of pads costing $15-$20 per month.
“My period days are nothing short of torture. With my insufficient salary, I cannot buy pads and end up using old clothes. It gets embarrassing when blood leaks, and when my colleagues notice,” Loice said.
The price of a packet of menstrual pads increased by 117% in Zimbabwe between January to April 2022, found ActionAid International, a nonprofit that campaigns on women and girls’ rights. As a result, women are forced to construct makeshift pads out of unsanitary materials that often carry bacteria and lack absorbency, increasing infection risk. This can escalate into pelvic inflammatory disease, which in turn may cause chronic pain or infertility, the report mentioned.
“My period days are nothing short of torture. With my insufficient salary, I cannot buy pads and end up using old clothes. It gets embarrassing when blood leaks, and when my colleagues notice.”
According to UNICEF, the high cost of sanitary pads results in several women using old cloth or cotton wool as alternatives to clean menstrual pads.
In rural Mt. Darwin, 156 km (97 miles) north of Harare, 17-year-old C.P. uses cotton harvested from her family’s field; if it is not available, she uses old rags and risks infections. Having never used sanitary pads, she grew used to the blood stains on her skirt — and the taunts from boys.
“Every month, before my monthly period, anxiety strikes me. How do I cope this month? The boys don’t understand this is a natural phenomenon,” C.P., who is also referred to by her initials to protect her privacy, said shyly.
Climate Change, Drought, and Crop Failure
The root causes of period poverty in Zimbabwe run deeper than simple affordability. Prolonged droughts, many worsened by climate change, have devastated crops and pushed millions into deeper poverty, leaving agrarian families unable to buy basic menstrual products.
According to a 2022 study by Care International, “72% of girls do not use sanitary products as they are unable to purchase them, and 62% of girls miss out on school every month due to a lack of sanitary wear” — a crisis that is most acute in rural regions where cyclical droughts and flooding have undermined families’ ability to afford basic menstrual hygiene.
Environmental scientist Shamiso Mupara, who works on sustainable waste management and climate change, noted that the climate-related shifts, such as drought and water scarcity, have a direct impact on the menstruating women in rural communities such as Marange. “Girls and women struggle to manage menstruation hygienically due to water scarcity and the unaffordability of sanitary products, worsened by climate-induced crop failures and loss of livelihoods,” she said.
In the urban areas of Zimbabwe, as summers have gotten harsher, vendors have lessened their working hours, which directly impacts their incomes and profit margins.
“In drought-hit areas, families often prioritize basic needs over menstrual health. Climate shocks thus not only affect food and water security but also strip women of dignity and opportunity during menstruation.”
Climate change has amplified El Niño as of December 2023, resulting in poor rainfall and a subsequent water crisis. As of 2024, more than 850,000 Zimbabweans lack access to safe drinking water. “In drought-hit areas, families often prioritize basic needs over menstrual health. Climate shocks thus not only affect food and water security but also strip women of dignity and opportunity during menstruation,” Mupara added.
Zimbabwean nonprofit Development Aid from People to People added that in Zimbabwe, more than 3 million women and girls menstruate, and yet the majority of them do not have proper and sufficient menstrual protection.
And this impacts schoolgirls the most. The organization found that 62% of schoolgirls lacking sanitary pads miss school, while 70% don’t even know of any sanitary pad brands available on the local market.
Acute Water Crisis
In Harare’s water-starved suburb, Budiriro, T.K. often lacked water for basic hygiene, making it difficult for her to manage her period. “We get water from the Harare City Council just once a week. But it’s too dirty to use for anything beyond domestic chores,” she said. For potable water, her family buys around ten buckets of water per day from locals who own the borehole connection — a set of six 20-litre capacity buckets costs $1. “This amount is out of reach for most families, including us,” she said.
Low-income suburbs like Budiriro and Mabvuku in Harare often go days without running water. In such conditions, where even a regular bath is a distant luxury, buying sanitary products or indulging in safe menstrual practices is often out of reach.
“The cheapest pads are from $1. Those who cannot afford it use cotton wool (silky fibers taken from plants in their raw state), which is natively grown and easily available. However, they are not conducive because it may cause infections,” said Edinah Masiyiwa, an advocate and activist for women’s health and rights.
The water crisis affects C.P. differently from T.K. C.P. deliberately drinks less to save money, especially during the dry, scorching months. As a result, she often falls ill, feels weak, and sometimes is confined to bed. “I often experienced genital sores while in school but assumed it was normal and never sought medical attention,” C.P. said.
Harare’s main water source, Lake Chivero, was built in 1952 during the colonial era to serve about 200,000 people. Today, demand has surged, but the city supplies only 750 megalitres a day — far short of the 1,400 megalitres needed by the larger population. But the problems don’t end here: years of raw sewage contamination into the lake have filled it with toxic cyanobacteria, killing animals and harming the health of the people who rely on it.
Searching for Solutions
As a budget-friendly, one-time investment, nonprofit organisations are producing and promoting reusable pads. But the ongoing water crisis makes them hard to use as well: they need to be washed, dried, and kept ready for the next cycle.
Menstrual cups are a promising option in the country because they’re affordable and need less water than reusable pads. But their success depends on awareness, proper guidance, and cultural sensitivity. Zimbabwe is seeing active promotion and distribution efforts around menstrual cups by Médecins Sans Frontières, the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) and its partners, the CUPlings Foundation and menstrual health organisations like Cycle Health Zimbabwe (CHEZI).
Sue Hutchinson, founder of The Beatrice Project, an organisation providing menstrual products for schoolgirls, was quoted as saying, “Cups are now the preferred means of menstrual protection and loved by the schoolgirls. The take-up at the latest of our schools to join was 100%.”
Although there were cultural reservations at first, the uptake of the cups has since improved, with over 900 cups distributed in 15 schools in the Midlands province of Zimbabwe, further reducing school absence from 95% to 5%.
For C.P., getting access to menstrual products could change her life and improve her health. “If we get access to menstrual products, our lives will be greatly transformed and improve our health and lifestyle as young, underprivileged women.”
“At a family and community level, there must be conversations on sanitary health, and even fathers must consider getting pads for their daughters,” Masiyiwa said. “We need to raise awareness about menstrual hygiene within families, and when they must also buy sanitary ware when they are buying a loaf of bread.
