Buhera, Zimbabwe – The much-celebrated lithium mining boom in Zimbabwe is fast turning into a nightmare for villagers in Buhera, where dust pollution, health risks, and broken promises have become the hidden cost of the so-called economic lifeline.
Every day, convoys of heavy trucks rumble along a 40-kilometre dirt road in Buhera, ferrying ore from the mines. The result is devastating: massive clouds of dust engulf entire communities in Murambinda and Mukwasi, settling on homes, gardens, food, and water.
“It’s like you never cleaned at all—even my plates get coated with dust,” said resident Plaxedes Zinatsa, who now struggles to maintain a simple garden.
For locals, once self-sufficient through farming, the dust has destroyed livelihoods and made survival harder than ever.
The problem is not only environmental but life-threatening. Zinatsa recalled a near tragedy when a child was struck by a vehicle:
“One child was hit by a car after a fleet of trucks passed. Neither the driver nor the child could see through the dust,” she said.
This highlights the deadly risk residents face daily as visibility drops to near zero when trucks pass.
Villagers say their pleas for the road to be tarred have been ignored, despite government officials and mining companies promising development.
Buhera North MP Phillip Guyo expressed frustration:
“They once promised on television to tar the road. But when directors changed, those promises disappeared.”
Attempts to push the matter through District Coordinating Committees have gone nowhere, leaving residents feeling betrayed and abandoned.
The dust storm has unleashed a wave of illness in the community. Silas Mhuriro, secretary of Mukwasi Village, painted a grim picture:
“Almost every household has someone suffering from TB or chest pains. Children are constantly coughing, trees are dying, and even nurses are leaving the clinic because of the conditions.”
What was once a thriving rural community is now on the verge of a full-blown public health crisis.
Sabi Star Mine, one of the companies operating in the area, insists it is trying to reduce dust pollution. Spokesperson Emmerson Njanjamangezi said the mine waters roads three times a day, enforces speed limits, and has tested molasses-based dust suppression.
However, he argued that the global lithium price crash—a 90% drop in 2024—makes it financially impossible to surface the road.
For villagers, these explanations ring hollow. Dust continues to dominate their daily lives, coating every surface and worsening health conditions.
Environmental watchdogs say what is happening in Buhera mirrors a wider crisis across Zimbabwe’s lithium mining regions.
Farai Maguwu, director of the Centre for Natural Resource Governance, condemned the situation:
“This is a war on our communities. The companies and government could easily tar these roads, but the ruling elite—hidden as shareholders—choose profit over people.”
What was supposed to be an economic breakthrough for Zimbabwe is instead a cautionary tale of exploitation. The hidden cost of lithium mining in Buhera is measured not in profits, but in dust-choked lungs, barren gardens, and broken promises.
For Buhera’s villagers, the dream of prosperity has been buried under a suffocating cloud of dust.
