It
was
water
that
stripped
nearly
everything
from
Tambudzai
Chikweya’s
life
on
the
night
of
March
15,
2019.
As
Cyclone
Idai
tore
through
Chimanimani,
her
hometown
in
Zimbabwe’s
eastern
highlands,
it
unleashed
floods
that
swept
away
her
house
and
claimed
the
life
of
her
eldest
daughter.
Chikweya
was
rescued
only
after
spending
the
night
pinned
between
a
wardrobe
and
a
bed,
unable
to
free
herself
from
the
mud.
More
than
five
years
later,
water
again
stands
in
the
way
of
Chikweya’s
attempts
to
build
a
new
life
for
herself
and
her
family.
But
this
time,
the
problem
is
that
there
isn’t
enough
of
it.
The
mother-of-three
has
been
resettled
in
Runyararo,
a
vast
expanse
of
sun-baked
semi-arid
land
where
the
Zimbabwe
government
has
been
building
brick
homes
for
hundreds
of
people
displaced
by
the
cyclone,
on
the
site
of
a
former
colonial
farm
more
than
60
kilometres
away
from
Chimanimani.
High
temperatures
of
up
to
34
degrees
Celsius
and
erratic
rainfall
make
access
to
water
in
Runyararo “inadequate”,
according
to government
documents.
The
situation
has
been
made
worse
this
year
by
a
severe
drought
– dubbed “historic”
by
the
UN –
which
has
affected
much
of
Southern
Africa
and
was
sparked
by
the
El
Niño
weather
pattern.
“Not
having
enough
water
and
drought-induced
hunger
are
challenges
here,”
Chikweya
said,
speaking
through
a
translator
when
Climate
Home
visited
her
home
in
Runyararo
last
September
on
a
trip
organised
by
Danish
humanitarian
NGO
DanChurchAid.
“It
was
a
very
difficult
decision
for
us
[to
move
here],”
she
added,
“It
weighed
on
us
for
a
long
time.”
The
reality
has
also
proved
tough.
Standing
in
front
of
a
small
vegetable
patch
where
she
grows
tomatoes
and
kale,
Chikweya
described
the
struggle
she
faces
in
getting
enough
food
to
feed
herself
and
her
children
at
least
once
a
day.
She
tried
to
grow
potatoes
on
a
large
plot
of
land
donated
by
the
government
–
but
the
crops
failed
in
the
bone-dry
soil
as
a
result
of
the
stifling
heat
and
a
shortage
of
water.
Climate
Home
asked
Zimbabwe’s
government
why
storm-hit
communities
were
resettled
in
a
known
drought-prone
area,
but
had
not
received
a
response
by
the
time
of
the
publication.
Multiple
climate
threats
Chikweya’s
situation
underscores
the
wide
range
of
climate-related
threats
affecting
vulnerable
communities
in
a
country
like
Zimbabwe
where
the
frequency
and
intensity
of
both
storms
and
droughts
are
projected
to
increase
as
the
planet
heats
up.
The
situation
in
Runyararo
also
highlights
the
complexities
of
the
critical
decisions
facing
cash-strapped
governments
that
need
to
ensure
their
efforts
to
help
people
recover
from
one
disaster
also
make
them
better
able
to
withstand
future
hazards.
Mattias
Söderberg,
global
climate
lead
at
DanChurchAid,
said
adapting
to
multiple
climate
stresses
“is
not
just
a
tick-box
exercise”,
but
must
be
grounded
in
a
“thorough
assessment
of
the
expected
climate
effects”.
Development
organisations
and
government
authorities
leading
adaptation
projects
need
enough
expertise
to
take
into
account
expected
climate
impacts
in
the
future
as
well
as
what
is
happening
now.
“Otherwise
adaptation
investment
may
be
lost,
and
people
will
live
in
a
false
sense
of
safety,”
Söderberg
said.
Doing
that
in
practice,
however,
can
add
to
the
upfront
costs
of
adaptation
measures.
To
tackle
the
lack
of
water
in
Runyararo,
for
example,
the
national
government
has
sketched
out
plans
to
build
a
dam
on
a
nearby
river
and
bring
a
stable
water
supply
into
the
area.
But
a
lack
of
funding
has
put
the
dam
project
beyond
reach
for
now.
It
is
a
familiar
dilemma
for
developing
nations
struggling
to
bridge
the
widening
gulf
between
the
impacts
of
climate
change
and
the
shortfall
of
money
available
to
address
them.
International
public
funding
to
protect
communities
in
poorer,
vulnerable
countries
from
worsening
extreme
weather
and
rising
seas
is
only
a
fraction
–
between
7%
and
13%
–
of
what
is
needed,
according
to
the
latest Adaptation
Gap
Report published
on
Thursday
by
the
UN
Environment
Programme
(UNEP).
UNEP
said
governments
have
an
important
opportunity
to
“alter
this
trajectory”
at
the
upcoming
COP29
summit,
starting
next
week
in
Baku,
Azerbaijan.
The
talks
are
expected
to
agree
on
a
new
post-2025
global
climate
finance
goal
to
help
developing
countries
tackle
climate
change
–
but
deep
divisions
remain
on
what
it
should
consist
of,
how
large
it
should
be,
and
who
should
contribute
to
it.
For
Zimbabwe,
the
money
could
make
all
the
difference
when
dealing
with
another
climate
disaster.
‘Surrounded
by
floodwater’
Back
in
2019,
Joseph
Maphosa
was
fast
asleep
when
the
water
brought
by
Cyclone
Idai
burst
through
the
front
door
of
his
home
late
at
night
with
such
force
that
it
lifted
up
his
bed.
Idai
was
then
passing
through
Kopa,
a
settlement
lying
on
a
plain
at
the
confluence
of
three
rivers.
Conditions
making
it
particularly
prone
to
flooding
and
landslides
would
turn
Kopa
into
the
epicentre
of
the
disaster.
After
fleeing
his
house
by
hanging
onto
the
roof
trusses,
Maphosa
eventually
climbed
up
into
a
tree
with
three
of
his
neighbours.
They
spent
the
next
48
hours
there
alone.
“The
rain
was
coming
down
all
around
us,
there
was
nothing
we
could
do,”
he
recounted
more
than
five
years
later.
“No
one
could
help
us
because
we
were
just
surrounded
by
floodwater.”
By
the
time
rescuers
arrived
and
took
the
four
people
to
safety,
the
water
had
started
receding
and
the
devastation
caused
by
the
cyclone
was
laid
bare.
It
was
Zimbabwe’s
most
devastating
natural
disaster
on
record.
More
than
70
households
were
swept
away
in
Kopa
alone.
Across the
country,
344
people
died,
with
over
250
reported
missing
and
60,000
displaced
by
the
disaster.
The
cost
of
damage
to
property
and
infrastructure
ranged
between
$542
million
and
$616
million
according
to
a rapid
impact
assessment by
the
World
Bank
which
funded
a
wide-ranging
recovery
programme.
As
the
government
and
development
agencies
set
about
rebuilding
homes,
roads
and
bridges
and
restoring
local
people’s
livelihoods,
they
promised
that
similar
cyclones
would
never
have
the
same
calamitous
consequences.
‘Building
back
better’
“We
said,
‘we
don’t
need
to
build
back
better
anymore
–
we
want
to
build
back
better
first
time’,”
John
Misi,
acting
director
for
local
government
services
in
Manicaland
Province,
told
reporters
visiting
the
area
in
September.
“We
challenged
our
local
authorities
that
no
one
was
going
to
build
a
structure,
a
home,
a
shelter,
without
getting
technical
support
from
the
council
so
that
we
build
more
resilient
infrastructure,”
he
added.
On
a
three-day
trip
across
the
province,
Climate
Home
saw
a
mixed
picture
of
how
the
recovery
efforts
have
unfolded
five years
on
from
the
dramatic
events
caused
by
Idai.
Key
infrastructure
–
including
many
roads
and
bridges
–
was
repaired,
restoring
access
to
remote
communities.
Still,
a
large
swathe
of
the
floodplain
in
Kopa
remains
littered
with
giant
boulders
that
came
rolling
down
from
the
mountains
as
a
result
of
the
cyclone,
destroying
everything
in
their
way.
Even
so,
a
dozen
metres
away,
the
local
business
centre
is
a
hive
of
activity.
New
buildings
are
being
erected,
helping
locals
to
earn
a
living
but
also
fuelling
concerns
over
what
would
happen
if
a
fresh
climate
disaster
struck.
“There
is
no
order
–
these
businesses
are
just
coming
up,”
said
Maphosa,
who
now
works
in
Chimanimani’s
civil
registry
office.
“It
is
a
great
risk
to
build
there.
[With
Cyclone
Idai]
water
got
into
the
shops
there
but
people
are
still
building
them
there
anyways.”
While
commercial
buildings
are
being
constructed
in
Kopa,
an
official
told
Climate
Home
that
the
local
council
denied
permission
to
rebuild
residential
houses
there.
Most
people
made
homeless
by
the
disaster
found
shelter
with
families
or
host
communities,
but
hundreds
of
households
ended
up
in
temporary
camps
waiting
to
be
given
a
new
permanent
home
elsewhere.
Settling
in
the
‘land
of
peace’
The
centrepiece
of
the
Zimbabwe
government’s
resettlement
plans
lies
in
Runyararo,
which
means
“land
of
peace”
in
the
local
Shona
language.
The
settlement
lies
at
the
end
of
a
long
dirt
road
nearly
two-hours’
drive
away
from
Chimanimani.
Here,
on
a
largely
empty
piece
of
barren
land
traditionally
used
for
cattle-grazing,
the
government
built
159
new
homes
for
displaced
people
–
with
close
to
a
hundred
more
in
the
pipeline
–
as
well
as
a
primary
school
and
a
small
hospital.
In
addition
to
a
four-room
house,
new
residents
are
allocated
2.5
hectares
of
land
that
they
can
use
to
grow
crops
or
keep
animals.
Chikweya
moved
to
Runyararo
in
2022
after
spending
three
years
in
a
tent
camp.
She
said
she
was
grateful
to
the
government
for
her
new
house,
but
she
has
been
struggling
to
adjust
to
a
life
full
of
fresh
challenges.
“It
is
more
isolated
here,”
she
said.
“In
Chimanimani,
I
used
to
sell
things
and
there
was
always
someone
who
would
buy
from
you,
which
helped
me
get
by.”
Chikweya
now
keeps
goats
and
chickens
and
tends
her
vegetable
patch
–
but
her
ambition
to
put
the
rest
of
her
land
to
productive
use
to
grow
food
has
failed
because
she
cannot
irrigate
it
regularly.
The
shortage
of
water
afflicts
everyone
in
the
area
–
and
it’s
becoming
more
acute
as
the
government
has
resettled
cyclone
survivors
there.
“It’s
always
been
like
this
here,”
lamented
another
resident
during
a
community
meeting.
“But
because
there
are
a
lot
of
people
now,
the
little
water
that
was
here
is
now
being
used
by
too
many
people.
It’s
getting
to
a
point
where
the
water
just
dries
up.”
Struggle
to
boost
water
access
Boreholes
to
tap
underground
water
were
drilled
in
the
area,
but
a
lack
of
rain
during
the
ongoing
drought
means
the
water
table
has
been
getting
lower
and
some
of
the
boreholes
have
dried
up,
a
local
official
said.
German
charity
Welthungerhilfe
(WHH)
stepped
in
to
help,
with
funding
from
the
US
government’s
development
agency
USAID.
It
drilled
two
more
boreholes
and
installed
solar
panels
to
pump
water
into
a
large
storage
tank
and
from
there
to
a
network
of
taps
situated
closer
to
the
homes.
Yet,
while
the
scheme
has
offered
a
welcome
reprieve
for
the
community,
water
stress
persists
–
and
the
struggle
for
a
sufficient
supply
could
get
worse
as
the
number
of
residents
grows.
Matthias
Späth,
WHH’s
country
director
in
Zimbabwe,
told
Climate
Home
it
was
“saddening
to
see
how
quickly
the
water
level
is
shrinking”
when
he
visited
Runyararo
recently.
“We
did
the
best
we
could
with
the
available
resources,”
he
said.
“We
ensured
that
no
IDP
[internally
displaced
person’s]
household
was
more
than
100
metres
from
a
water
point.”
Späth
added
that,
given
water
shortages
across
the
wider
area,
the
system
designed
for
the
new
residents
“has
likely
been
overloaded”
because
people
living
there
before
the
resettlement
project
have
also
been
using
it.
“A
larger
budget
would
have
enabled
us
to
extend
the
water
system
to
the
host
community,”
he
said.
A
lack
of
funding
is
also
putting
the
brakes
on
a
project
the
government
believes
could
offer
a
long-term
solution.
Under
the
plans,
a
dam
would
be
built
on
a
river
up
in
the
nearby
hills
and
a
30-km
pipeline
would
channel
the
water
from
there
to
the
community
in
Runyararo.
But,
for
now,
there
is
no
money
to
put
the
costly
project
into
practice,
local
officials
told
Climate
Home.
Späth
said
he
was
concerned
that
current
global
geopolitics
and
national
economic
hardship
would
make
it
hard
to
mobilise
the
funds
needed
to
build
a
dam.
He
also
said
water
quality
in
the
river
would
need
to
be
assessed
to
ensure
it
is
suitable
for
filling
the
dam,
partly
because
livestock
may
also
use
it
for
their
needs.
Misi
of
Manicaland
province
said
the
administration
has
been
doing
its
best
in
Runyararo
but
acknowledged
that
“it
is
a
work-in-progress”
and
challenges
remain.
“We
want
to
make
that
settlement
as
good
as
the
area
that
they
[the
displaced
people]
stayed
in
before
the
cyclone,”
he
said.
For
Chikweya,
that
day
cannot
come
soon
enough
as
she
reflects
on
her
life
before
Cyclone
Idai.
“Chimanimani
was
basically
an
oasis.
We’d
never
run
out
of
water
–
we
could
always
access
fresh
food,”
she
said.
“Here
it’s
more
difficult.”
(Reporting
by
Matteo
Civillini;
editing
by
Megan
Rowling)
Danish
NGO
DanChurchAid
organised
and
sponsored
Climate
Home’s
trip
to
Zimbabwe.