In a country where drug and substance abuse has morphed into one of the most insidious threats to public health, social stability, and youth potential, a new kind of resistance is emerging. It’s not led by politicians in suits or experts with charts, but by ordinary people who have lived the nightmare, and are now walking the road to redemption and collective healing.
One of the most striking examples is Columbus Mushore, a journalist whose personal journey from addiction to advocacy has become a beacon of hope for many. Once trapped in the vicious grip of drug abuse, Mushore is now leading a literal and symbolic march against the scourge. His recent walkathon, Heal Us Zimbabwe, which began in Plumtree and ended in Harare after more than three weeks and hundreds of kilometres on foot, is more than just a fundraiser for a rehabilitation centre in his community, it is a message. A message that says recovery is possible, and silence is no longer an option.
Mushore’s story is deeply personal but broadly resonant. He speaks candidly of the time, relationships, and professional opportunities he lost to drugs. But his journey isn’t just about personal healing, it’s also about systemic change. By walking across Zimbabwe, he is highlighting the geographical and emotional distance many addicts feel from support systems. His halfway house project reflects a crucial reality: drug addiction is not just a personal failure, it is a societal gap in care, support, and reintegration.
Mushore is not alone. A parallel campaign, spearheaded by members of the Visionary Cadres Association of Zimbabwe, saw individuals walking from Zvishavane to Harare with a simple but profound objective, to educate, to empathise, and to urge society to act. Among them were mothers, former addicts, and community leaders, each carrying their own testimonies of pain, loss, recovery, and hope. One mother, whose child suffered from drug dependency, said her decision to join the walk stemmed from the urgent need to speak out and break the culture of shame that often isolates affected families.
What is remarkable about this movement is how it is bridging lived experience with public advocacy. Former users, instead of being cast aside, are reclaiming their voice as credible messengers. Their stories cut through the noise in ways that data points or press statements often cannot. When someone who once sought escape in methamphetamine or cough syrup now walks miles to save others from the same path, it becomes impossible to ignore the human cost, and the human will to change.
The government’s response has been increasingly assertive. Last year’s launch of the Multi-Sectoral Drug and Substance Abuse Plan was a significant policy milestone, acknowledging drug abuse as not just a public health issue, but also a socio-economic and national security threat. Now, officials like Ms Margret Nyakujara from the Harare Metropolitan Province are speaking of tangible action. With rehabilitation centres under construction and the first one in Harare nearing operational status, the infrastructure is slowly catching up with the urgency of the crisis.
But the real solution, as ZANU PF Secretary for War Veterans’ Affairs Cde Douglas Mahiya pointed out, lies in community-driven responses. His remarks that “this generation has fallen short of what our generation fought for” may sound harsh, but they highlight a generational disconnect and a societal imperative: we must do more to create an environment where young people can thrive without resorting to drugs as an escape.
The voices from the walkathons and grassroots campaigns reveal that this fight is no longer about awareness alone, it is now about ownership. It is about reclaiming agency, rebuilding dignity, and refusing to let drugs write the future of Zimbabwe’s youth.
As the nation watches these brave advocates walk across provinces, one message grows louder with every step: this is a national emergency that requires not only policy but purpose, not only clinics but compassion. It will take citizens walking side by side with their government, civil society, and recovering addicts to truly “heal us, Zimbabwe.”
