CCIJ
IN NOVEMBER every year, Zimbabwe’s second-largest city, Bulawayo, explodes into a magnificent riot of colour as the majestic purple jacaranda and the flame-red flamboyant trees bloom, transforming the wide tree-lined streets into a glorious spectacle.
But beneath this blissful veneer of blossoms is a troubled city struggling to come to terms with a devastating shortage of water and the resultant loss of life.
In June, three months into a Covid-19 lockdown, Bulawayo was blindsided by a totally different disease diarrhoea.
The gastro-intestinal malady, which spreads through the ingestion of contaminated water and food, had killed 13 people by July and infected more than 2 000 others. Some of the survivors suffered mysterious skin disfigurement. And many are yet to settle their hefty medical bills.
First published in CCIJ.
In November every year, Zimbabwe’s second-largest city, Bulawayo, explodes into a magnificent riot of colour as the majestic purple jacaranda and the flame-red flamboyant trees bloom, transforming the wide tree-lined streets into a glorious spectacle.
But beneath this blissful veneer of blossoms is a troubled city struggling to come to terms with a devastating shortage of water and the resultant loss of life.
In June, three months into a Covid-19 lockdown, Bulawayo was blindsided by a totally different disease diarrhoea.
The gastro-intestinal malady, which spreads through the ingestion of contaminated water and food, had killed 13 people by July and infected more than 2 000 others. Some of the survivors suffered mysterious skin disfigurement. And many are yet to settle their hefty medical bills.