Doctors and substance abuse in Zimbabwe

The story of Taurai Prosper Vanhuvaone, now infamously known as the Mpilo fake doctor, offers a striking glimpse into the fragile boundaries between perception and reality in Zimbabwe's medical profession. Vanhuvaone posed as a doctor for months, mimicking the behaviour of legitimate medical practitioners. With a stethoscope swinging from his neck, he frequented city nightspots, drinking cider and socialising late into the night. To outsiders, his conduct reinforced the image of the overworked, erratic doctor—a perception that, ironically, mirrored some troubling truths within the profession itself.

Last month, Health and Child Care Minister Dr Douglas Mombeshora revealed that substance abuse among health professionals is a growing concern. "One urgent threat is drug and substance abuse, which is devastating young people and straining our health systems. Yet we cannot pretend that it is only out there; some health professionals themselves are also struggling with substance abuse," Dr Mombeshora said. The Ministry has identified over 70 medical professionals grappling with addiction, some reportedly abusing pethidine, an opioid commonly used for moderate to severe pain relief.

Addiction among doctors remains a taboo topic, complicated by high stress, long hours, and societal expectations of perfection. Lester Grinspoon, a former Harvard Medical School instructor, explains that physicians often feel ashamed to confront their addiction because the public views them as infallible. "There is this culture that doctors are supposed to be perfect—they do not get sick, they do not have any problems—and that culture makes it harder for us to ask for help," he noted. Brian Lynch, a physician and author, observed that the demanding nature of the medical profession can mask early signs of substance abuse, with fatigue and irritability often dismissed as work-related stress.

While some attribute addiction to workplace pressures, Ingutsheni Central Hospital clinical director Dr Wellington Ranga argues that personal choice and the pursuit of pleasure often play a larger role. "There is a common misconception that doctors are immune to addiction because they understand the dangers. That is not true. They are human like everyone else and when they encounter these substances, they are seeking pleasure," he said.

Veteran medical practitioner Professor Solwayo Ngwenya also highlights the societal dimension of the problem. He links substance abuse among doctors to the erosion of cultural values and weakening family structures. "The doctors you hear about today did not start abusing drugs in hospitals—they began in secondary school. We need to return to our cultural roots and embrace the ways our ancestors lived," Prof Ngwenya said. He called for a holistic approach that includes reviving traditional values, strengthening family structures, and empowering teachers in early childhood development, complementing government initiatives like the Zimbabwe National Drug Master Plan.

Vanhuvaone's deception, while criminal, unintentionally sheds light on the complex reality facing Zimbabwe's medical community: the healer can become the patient. His story serves as a stark reminder that addiction, societal pressures, and human vulnerability do not spare even those tasked with caring for others. Addressing these issues will require not only institutional reforms and rehabilitation programmes but also a broader societal effort to rebuild cultural and ethical foundations.