HealthTimes

View Once! About Time Zimbabwe Issues a Social Media Ban for Children Under 16

Michael Gwarisa

The advent of social media has brought with it numerous opportunities, mostly for young and middle-aged people across the globe. Unlike in previous decades when employment meant sitting behind a desk or sweating it out at a construction site or manufacturing firm, today all one needs is a smartphone, a computer, or a camera to become a global brand and, in some cases, an instant millionaire.

The rise of content creation as a legitimate form of employment has already produced millionaires, some of them so young that they struggle to comprehend the scale of their wealth. In the United States, personalities such as IShowSpeed and Kai Cenat have become millionaires in their own right, amassing millions of followers across multiple platforms and redefining how young people view success and work.

However, behind these success stories lies a darker and increasingly dangerous reality. Social media has also incentivised extreme, explicit, and degrading content, particularly among creators who feel compelled to sacrifice dignity, privacy, and long-term wellbeing simply to remain visible and monetised. Instagram modelling has evolved into a new form of digital sex work, while TikTok continues to reward shock value over substance, often with devastating social consequences.

In Zimbabwe, content creation has frequently involved vulgar language and explicit behaviour. Until recently, this was largely confined to crude humour and offensive skits. That changed dramatically when a woman operating a Facebook page under the moniker Queen Nadia shocked the nation by exposing her private parts in a stunt popularly referred to as “view once.” The content spread rapidly, attracting over a million views and followers within days before the account was eventually suspended by Meta.

This incident was not just another online scandal. It was a warning sign. Children across Zimbabwe, many using shared smartphones without supervision, were exposed to explicit material that would previously have been inaccessible. The speed at which the content spread highlighted how powerless parents, schools, and regulators currently are in the face of unchecked social media algorithms.

The Queen Nadia episode illustrates a broader moral and social shift. Norms that once governed public behaviour have been eroded, replaced by an attention economy that rewards the most extreme conduct. In a society already grappling with economic hardship, unemployment, and fragile family structures, social media has become a dangerous amplifier of desperation, exploitation, and moral decay.

Parents are often urged to monitor their children’s digital lifestyles, but this expectation ignores reality. Many parents lack digital literacy, work long hours, or cannot afford separate devices for children. In such circumstances, parental control becomes a slogan rather than a solution. Responsibility must therefore shift toward national policy.

This is where the Zimbabwean government, through Parliament and the Postal and Telecommunications Regulatory Authority of Zimbabwe (POTAZ), must act decisively. Protecting children is not censorship. It is a constitutional obligation. A clear, enforceable ban on social media access for children under the age of 16 would be a bold but necessary step.

Zimbabwe faces unique digital risks that make such a ban particularly urgent. Social media exposure is increasingly linked to anxiety, depression, low self esteem, and body image disorders among teenagers. These challenges are compounded by the country’s limited mental health infrastructure. While wealthier nations can rely on counselling services and school psychologists, Zimbabwean children are often left to navigate digital harm alone.

Cyberbullying has also become widespread, particularly on WhatsApp, Facebook, and TikTok. Cases of children being humiliated, threatened, or blackmailed circulate quietly within communities, rarely reported but deeply damaging. Even more alarming is the issue of online grooming, where minors are targeted by older individuals under the guise of friendship, financial assistance, or mentorship.

Explicit content is another major concern. Shared devices in low-income households mean that age restrictions are meaningless. Broadcasting Authority of Zimbabwe warnings have repeatedly flagged online content that violates decency laws, yet enforcement remains weak because the platforms themselves operate beyond national jurisdiction.

International precedent strengthens Zimbabwe’s case. Australia has taken the lead by implementing a nationwide ban on social media for children under 16, effective December 2025. This move has sparked global debate and policy momentum. Denmark, Spain, Malaysia, Norway, and France have all proposed or introduced varying degrees of restrictions, parental consent frameworks, or legislative controls aimed at protecting minors.

Zimbabwe should not wait for further damage before acting. Instead, it has an opportunity to lead Africa on child online protection by pairing a social media ban with digital literacy education, safe internet access policies, and strong enforcement mechanisms. This approach would ensure that children are not simply cut off, but guided toward healthier and age appropriate digital engagement.

Ultimately, the question is not whether social media has benefits. It does. The real question is whether Zimbabwe is willing to sacrifice an entire generation at the altar of clicks, likes, and viral trends. The answer should be no. A ban on social media for children under 16 is no longer radical. It is responsible, timely, and long overdue.