Collapse of cotton farming fuels HIV vulnerability in Gokwe South

Once celebrated as Zimbabwe's "white gold belt," Gokwe South is witnessing the devastating social impact of cotton farming's collapse, with the decline of the cash crop deepening community vulnerability to HIV.

For decades, cotton provided not just an income but a stabilising force for families in the district. Predictable harvests enabled households to meet basic needs and reduced reliance on risky livelihoods. But falling global prices and erratic rainfall, worsened by climate change, have left cotton fields abandoned.

In its place, locals have turned to artisanal mining, vending, cross-border trading and labour migration - alternative income streams that, while lucrative for some, have also created conditions ripe for HIV transmission.

Artisanal mining camps in the district are particularly notorious. Largely male-dominated and isolated, they are hubs of heavy drinking and transactional sex.
"I left my wife in Shurugwi to come and work here in Gokwe South," said Trynos Ndlovu, an artisanal miner in Masoro, Ward 24. "Yes, I got out and got services from sex workers and I don't even know what my wife does when I am not around."

He described the mining compounds as places where makeshift beer outlets, known locally as zvindanya, attract sex workers from as far as Gokwe town, Kwekwe and Kadoma.

The social disruptions go beyond mining. Women left behind by migrating husbands face both economic strain and emotional isolation.
Mary Zhou, a vegetable vendor in Gokwe town, said her husband left for South Africa two years ago after cotton farming collapsed. "My husband is yet to return home and I am left to look after our three children," she said. "He always promises to return, but I just heard that he was staying with another wife. This side I am forced to entertain some other men."

Similar struggles are felt across the district. Ruth Moyo*, a 36-year-old mother of three from Chief Jiri's area, said family bonds have weakened as men seek work abroad. "When cotton was still giving us good money, families were together, and life was manageable. Now my husband works in South Africa, I stay at home with the kids, and we only see each other once or twice a year. It is very difficult to keep trust in such a situation."

The trend reflects Zimbabwe's broader migration story. Over the past two decades, between three to five million Zimbabweans have moved to South Africa in search of work, with many coming from rural farming communities no longer able to sustain livelihoods.

Health experts warn that unless alternative livelihoods are paired with stronger HIV prevention and support services, the social dislocation left by cotton's decline could erode hard-won progress in the fight against the virus.