Lake Chivero crisis pushes wildlife and people to the edge

The stench of decay hangs heavy over Lake Chivero, long before the water even comes into sight. Once a shimmering lifeline for Harare's three million residents and a sanctuary for wildlife, the lake is now a poisoned wetland where life struggles to survive.

The Zimbabwe Parks and Wildlife Management Authority (Zimparks) confirmed this week that even wild animals have been forced to abandon the lake as a water source.

    "We have lost a zebra, wildebeest and impala," Zimparks spokesperson Tinashe Farawo said. "We are putting measures in place to try to protect our animals by availing alternative clean water sources."

The admission underscores the scale of the crisis — if wildlife cannot drink from Chivero, the health risks to humans are immeasurable.

In December 2024, thousands of fish washed up dead on Chivero's shores. Officials blamed cyanobacteria — toxic blue-green algae — fed by raw sewage from Harare's Marimba area. Since then, pollution levels have continued to rise, making the lake unfit for both animal and human consumption.

Despite a fishing ban, contaminated fish from Chivero continue to flood Harare's markets, luring cash-strapped residents with low prices.

For many, it is the cheapest source of protein — and also one of the most dangerous.

Environmental watchdogs say the Harare City Council has for years been discharging raw or partially treated sewage directly into Chivero. Between 2021 and 2025, the Environmental Management Agency (EMA) issued the city seven tickets and seven environmental protection orders for environmental offences.

But enforcement has failed to stop the flow of waste.

An unrepaired sewage pipeline — the Amalinda line — alone discharges 80 million litres of waste daily into the Firle treatment plant near the Mukuvisi–Manyame confluence. A US$16 million tender to replace the pipeline, awarded three years ago, was delayed by red tape and corruption probes. Only in May this year did the Procurement Regulatory Authority of Zimbabwe approve the project, recommending Water-mark Technologies as contractor.

While bureaucratic delays dragged on, effluent kept pouring into the lake, worsening the pollution crisis.

The consequences stretch far beyond the water's edge. Zimparks confirmed the deaths of rhinos, zebras, wildebeest, and fish eagles. Farmers in the surrounding areas have lost livestock that drank from polluted streams.

Kuimba Shiri Bird Park, a major tourism draw on Chivero's banks, has taken Harare City Council to court over financial losses linked to the pollution.

Last year, The Independent commissioned laboratory tests on Harare's tap water. Results showed dangerous nitrate and manganese levels from sewage contamination, making the water unfit for cooking.

Experts say boiling can kill bacteria but does nothing to remove chemical pollutants.

Still, untreated water continues to flow from taps, forcing families to take their chances with every sip.

From the water's edge, the crisis is plain to see. Brown patches mar the lake's surface. Bloated fish drift silently. The air is thick with a noxious stench.

Yet, in Harare's markets, Chivero's fish is still sold — filleted, fried, and eaten without question.

Environmentalists warn that this is a "quiet catastrophe" — one that will not announce itself with a sudden disaster but will instead erode public health, biodiversity, and economic potential day by day.

Until the sewage stops flowing, Lake Chivero will continue to die — and with it, the health and future of the capital it sustains.