In recent months, Zimbabwe has intensified its war against drug and substance abuse, marking a decisive turn in what was once an underplayed crisis. The latest government report covering March to June 2025 paints a picture of aggressive law enforcement, growing youth empowerment schemes, and an increasingly mobilised public sector. While these measures are commendable in scale and intent, the question that lingers is whether the current approach addresses the root causes of drug dependency, or simply manages its symptoms.
According to official figures, 206 drug raids were carried out nationwide within three months, leading to the dismantling of 39 drug bases and the arrest of 1,445 individuals. Forty-one drug kingpins were publicly named, and custodial sentences of up to 15 years were handed down. Surveillance technology was deployed at border posts, and the Liquor Licensing Board inspected 461 outlets, sanctioning those found to be operating illegally. These statistics reflect a determined state response, one that is clearly no longer content with just acknowledging the crisis but is taking action.
Yet, while a crackdown on illicit drug networks is necessary, it is not a standalone solution. The danger with an enforcement-heavy model is that it risks being reactive and not transformative. A focus on raids and arrests, without equal investment in rehabilitation and psychosocial support, risks creating a revolving door of criminalisation, especially for the youth who are often victims of deeper socio-economic despair. The question must be asked: where is the safety net after the arrests are made and the drugs seized?
Government initiatives under the youth empowerment pillar show some attempt at this. A total of 212,426 young people were reached through the Ministry of Youth, with programmes such as aquaculture, goat rearing, and vocational skills training being rolled out. The Presidential Empowerment Fund injected US$2 million, and 1,907 youths graduated under the Youth Service in Zimbabwe programme, 70 of them recovering drug users. Additionally, more than a million schoolchildren were reached through awareness campaigns. These are vital steps in addressing the supply side and in equipping young people with alternatives to a life of addiction.
However, the real test is sustainability. Short-term empowerment projects, while flashy and politically appealing, do not always translate into lasting change. Without proper market integration, access to credit, post-training mentorship, and community-based support systems, many of these young people risk sliding back into desperation, the very condition that fuels drug abuse in the first place. A young person trained to rear goats still needs land, feed, veterinary support, and a functioning local market to turn that skill into income. Without that, the training becomes little more than a statistic.
Moreover, there is a conspicuous silence in the national discourse around mental health, trauma, and the psychological dimensions of substance abuse. Addiction is rarely just about drugs; it is often about what people are trying to escape. In urban areas like Mbare, Chitungwiza, and parts of Bulawayo, drug abuse is closely linked to broken family structures, unemployment, domestic violence, and a general sense of hopelessness. A war on drugs must be a war on despair. Rehabilitation centres must be scaled up, manned by trained professionals, and decentralised to reach rural and peri-urban areas. Education campaigns must confront toxic masculinity, depression, peer pressure, and sexual abuse, factors that underlie many addiction cases.
While the Liquor Licensing Board’s enforcement role is necessary, one wonders why the broader commercial ecosystem that profits off addiction is not equally scrutinised. The explosion of backyard alcohol distilleries, unregulated pharmaceutical sales, and misleading advertising campaigns needs attention. Zimbabwe cannot hope to win the drug war if the supply chain, from producer to street dealer, is not comprehensively dismantled.
To its credit, the government is trying. But more cross-sector coordination is needed. The Ministry of Health must lead on rehabilitation. Social services must work closely with families. Local authorities must reclaim drug hotspots and transform them into safe youth hubs. Faith-based organisations and NGOs must be given space to contribute meaningfully. Above all, a national drug policy must be people-centred, with more emphasis on healing than punishment.
In conclusion, Zimbabwe’s current anti-drug strategy is bold, but incomplete. Arrests, tipper trucks, and livestock are only part of the solution. The country needs a whole-of-society approach that treats drug abuse not just as a crime to be punished, but as a public health and socio-economic crisis to be understood and healed. Only then can the country move from managing addiction to ending it.
