Zim health system crumbles-expecting mothers asked to bring c-section supplies

As Zimbabwe continues to spiral into deeper economic turmoil, its health system—once a beacon of progress in southern Africa—has begun to crack beyond recognition. In the eastern city of Mutare, the crisis manifests most viscerally in the maternity wing of the general hospital, where women arriving to give birth are no longer just patients—they are expected to be their own suppliers.

Each woman scheduled for a cesarean section at Mutare General is now handed a printed list, like the one taped to the maternity ward wall. Titled plainly *“LIST OF REQUIREMENTS OF LSCS”*—referring to lower segment cesarean section—it details everything the hospital no longer provides: from gloves and swabs to spinal needles and painkillers. Every item, from oxytocin to metronidazole, must be sourced privately, often at exorbitant costs from local pharmacies or informal markets.

Memory, a 27-year-old mother-to-be from the rural outskirts of Manicaland, stood in line gripping a tattered plastic bag filled with as many of the listed items as her family could afford. She had sold her only goat to buy the ephedrine and IV fluids. She could not afford the diclofenac suppositories or the postoperative antibiotics, let alone the cost of pain relief.

“The nurse told me I’ll have to be strong,” she said softly, eyes hollow with exhaustion. “They said there’s no medicine for after. Only stitches and prayers.”

In the operating room, sterile conditions hang by a thread. Nurses, overworked and underpaid, move quickly, performing surgeries with supplies scrounged together by patients. After the procedure, the women are wheeled out and left to recover without so much as a paracetamol.

Doctors, many of whom remain out of sheer duty, speak of burnout and desperation. “We used to practice medicine,” one surgeon said. “Now, we improvise and hope.”

And yet, amidst the despair, there is resilience. Women like Memory face the unimaginable with courage. Their voices, though often unheard, echo a truth no list can hide: healthcare in Zimbabwe is no longer a right—it is a burden borne by the already broken.