"My mother is locked in a room, and is being eaten by witches"

Ropa’s Voice: How a Nine-Year-Old Sparked a Chain of Justice in Rural Zimbabwe

November 4, 2025
Two people sit at a wooden table outdoors; one writes in a notebook, sunny day.

Psychosocial counsellor from the Department of Social Development converses with nine-year-old girl Ropafadzo to help her cope with the trauma and misinformation.

UNDP Zimbabwe/Anesu Freddy

Nine-year-old Ropa (not her real name) walks alone to a Mobile One-Stop Centre (MOSC) stationed near her village. Approaching a social worker, she whispered words that would change her family’s life: “My mother was locked in a room and eaten by witches.” At first glance, it seemed like a child’s fear—but it was a coded cry for help, rooted in trauma, poverty, and silence.

Behind Ropa’s statement was a deeper tragedy. Her 15-year-old sister had been forced into child marriage. Her family had no formal identification or civil documentation, leaving them outside the legal system and vulnerable to exploitation. Their village, like many others in Zimbabwe, was distant from police posts, hospitals, or courts—and isolated by geography and social stigma.

Sunlit rural landscape with a white building, scattered trees, and distant hills under a blue sky.
UNDP Zimbabwe/Anesu Freddy

In just one visit to the MOSC, a cascade of interventions unfolded. Ropa, her sister, and their father each received critical documents: a birth certificate, an ID, and legal proof of age necessary to challenge the forced marriage. Her sister was rescued and provided with psychosocial support and access to reproductive health services. Ropa and her family were enrolled for continuous support.

This was made possible through the MOSC’s integrated model: legal aid officers, police officers from the Victim Friendly Unit, health professionals, social workers, and civil registry officials—all operating in a coordinated, survivor-friendly space.

Ropa’s story is one of 1,370 direct service interventions conducted across Zimbabwe’s hard-to-reach areas between January and June 2025. Of these, 69.4% were women and girls, 57 were persons with disabilities, and 54.7% were youth. More than 198 complex cases—including rape, domestic violence, and documentation barriers—were formally processed, with over 90 follow-ups already underway.

People gathered around a table outdoors under trees; man in blue shirt writes at table.
Crowd of people gathered outdoors under trees, some seated, some standing.

Photos

UNDP Zimbabwe/Anesu Freddy

Ropa’s journey illustrates more than just a successful service delivery—it signals a systemic transformation. Her father, previously fearful of engaging authorities, shared:

“I was afraid to go to the MOSC, but now I know they’re here to help. I want to make things right for my daughters.”

By embedding services in communities and reducing survivor retraumatisation through one-stop access, the MOSC has shifted the landscape of justice and care in Zimbabwe’s most vulnerable zones. As Charity, a Provincial Social Development Officer, reflected:

“Ropa just showed up on her own and she started crying during the interview. The holistic response—police, social services, health, and legal aid—protected her entire family.”

The MOSC model is not just about services—it’s about dignity, trust, and transformation. With support from the Judith Neilson Foundation, UNDP Zimbabwe, and government partners, it offers a scalable model that bridges the urban–rural justice divide.

“Ropa just showed up on her own and she started crying during the interview. The holistic response—police, social services, health, and legal aid—protected her entire family.”

The next six months will see the model expand to Mashonaland West (Kariba Rural and Hurungwe) and Mashonaland East (SGBV Survivor Empowerment and Project Launch). Survivor stories like Ropa’s will anchor new communications campaigns, including the upcoming “Voices from the Edge” series, and continued engagement with policymakers will work to institutionalise mobile court mechanisms for rural justice delivery.

“I knew I had rights,” said one survivor. “But I didn’t know where to get help. The MOSC showed me the way.”

From that single voice, a movement grows—one survivor, one village, one transformation at a time.