Hunt for steel dries up Munyati river

At dawn, the Munyati River should shimmer across Zimbabwe's dry Midlands, a lifeline threading through the scorched plains. Instead, there is silence. The riverbed is now a cracked scar of dust and sand, and the sound of running water, once the pulse of the community, is gone.

"This river raised us," said Tafadzwa Moyo, a farmer who has lived along its banks for half a century. "Now it's gone, stolen from us by the Chinese."

Moyo was referring to Dinson Iron and Steel Company, part of the Tsingshan Group, the world's largest stainless-steel producer and one of Zimbabwe's most influential foreign investors. Since Dinson built a dam upstream to feed its US$1.5 billion Manhize steel plant, the Munyati River has stopped flowing downstream.

For thousands of villagers in the Msena Range, life has collapsed. Cattle that once drank freely now fall from thirst. Crops that depended on the river's waters have withered. Children trek for kilometers to find muddy puddles.

"We wake up to dust. Our cattle are dying. The company has taken all the water and left us with nothing," Moyo said, his voice breaking.

Locals remember the moment clearly. In mid-2023, when the final dam walls were completed across the upper Munyati, the river's flow slowed, then trickled, then vanished. "It used to flow even through droughts," said a local herdman who preferred to remain anonymous. "Now you can walk across it in your shoes. Even the frogs have left."

Images seen by the Zimbabwe Independent confirm the villagers' claims. The once-brown ribbon of water is now a pale band of dust. Vegetation that once lined its course has turned brown, and local wells fed by the river have dried up. "Everything depended on that water," said Martha Zunde, a widow who has lost five of her ten cattle to dehydration. "We were promised development, but we have been left with death."

In written responses, Dinson insisted it had not blocked the river, claiming it "occasionally opens a valve" to release water for villagers and livestock downstream. Wilfred Motsi, the plant's projects manager, said the company only draws water for operations and suggested that low rainfall might also be contributing to shortages. "We understand the importance of water for local communities and agriculture, and we are willing to engage in discussions to better understand the situation and explore ways to mitigate any potential impacts," Motsi said.

Villagers scoff at that explanation. "We have never seen any water released," said one farmer, Muchengeti. "Maybe they open it for five minutes for the cameras. The river stays dead." Many also blame the government for prioritizing investors over citizens. "Our government has sold us out," Muchengeti added. "They bow to investors while we die of thirst."

Dinson's Manhize project enjoys strong political backing. President Emmerson Mnangagwa has hailed it as a "milestone of industrial rebirth," the crown jewel of his Open for Business drive. But in Msena, that industrial rebirth feels like a death sentence.

The situation mirrors a broader continental struggle: industrial expansion draining rivers, displacing rural communities, and rewriting ecosystems in the name of progress. A 2024 African Centre for Energy Policy study found 63 major Chinese-funded projects across Africa that have altered river systems or reduced downstream flow, most operating under private, opaque deals with limited oversight.

In Msena, the consequences are visible in every dry furrow. Gardens that once fed local markets are barren. Brickmakers have abandoned riverbank kilns, and women dig holes in the sand to scoop muddy trickles of groundwater. Desperation is mounting, with villagers preparing a petition to the Chirumanzu Rural District Council demanding that Dinson restore the river's flow and provide boreholes. Some young men have vowed to march to the dam if nothing changes. Local chiefs are urging calm, fearing clashes with police or company security.

"They dammed our river," said Kenneth Chakurangei, a young farmer, staring at the barren riverbed. "But what they really dammed was our future." At sunset, villagers gather at what used to be the river's edge. "This place used to sing with frogs," Chakurangei said softly. "Now even the birds have gone."

Since 2018, the Environmental Management Agency has approved over a dozen water-intensive Chinese projects, many fast-tracked without full environmental checks. "What's happening in Msena is part of a broader pattern of state-enabled extraction," said an anonymous A1 farmer. "Foreign capital is prioritised over citizens' rights, and the price is paid in water, forests and lost livelihoods."

China is now Zimbabwe's largest investor, funding coal plants, lithium mines, and steelworks in exchange for mineral access. Yet for communities that host these projects, the promise of prosperity has evaporated like the Munyati itself. A Zimbabwe Environmental Law Association report found that 70% of Chinese-run projects violate environmental regulations, often taking water without licenses or causing pollution.

For the people of Msena, the Munyati River was more than water—it was memory, culture, and hope. Now, it stands as a symbol of what Zimbabwe risks losing in the pursuit of investment: its natural soul. As the last light fades over the dry riverbed, one question lingers in the dusty air: What good is development if it leaves a nation's people, and rivers, dry?