By Memory Pamella Kadau
Zimbabwe’s abortion conversation remains trapped in the wrong questions.
Why are we still debating whether the procedure should be allowed when the law (ToP) already makes provision for it?
And why, under a system that claims to protect women, are they still dying from unsafe procedures, while young girls are forced to carry pregnancies to term?
This silence, particularly during Women’s Month when we celebrate progress in women’s health, is a contradiction that can no longer be ignored, especially following the removal of Clause 11 from the Medical Services Amendment Bill in February 2026. The public debate is focused on the language of morality, religion, and the sanctity of life, which, while loud, says little about the lived realities—and lives—of women and girls.
The harder truth being avoided is the lethal gap between what the law permits and what women can actually access. This leads to the more honest question: what does it mean when a law exists on paper but fails in practice?
Consider the example of a 15-year-old girl in a rural community who falls pregnant after being raped by someone she knows, perhaps even a member of her own household.
While the law permits termination in these circumstances, her situation is anything but simple. She must navigate a series of complex and time-consuming steps: going to the police, securing legal confirmation, and finding multiple doctors who are both willing and authorised to sign off. She must then travel, often long distances, to a facility that can actually provide the service. Each of these steps introduces delays that work against her, all while she is constrained by family and community dynamics of silence, fear, and power that dictate what she can say, where she can go, and whether she is even believed. Her ability to act is limited not just by legal process but by the practical conditions of her life. By the time she manages to navigate these processes, the window for safe, legal care has often closed—the pregnancy has progressed, or she has been forced to carry to term. At this point, we cannot claim the law protected her; we must admit that it failed her. Her story represents the practical inaccessibility of a legal system that only works on paper.
A law that exists, but does not work for every woman
Zimbabwe’s abortion debate continues to circle the wrong question. It is not about whether abortion should be allowed. The Termination of Pregnancy Act of 1977 already allows abortion in cases of rape, incest, fetal impairment, or when a woman’s life or health is at risk.
The real issue is that the law does not work in practice, and too many women are paying the price for that gap. The process is long, and multiple medical approvals are required. Survivors of rape must navigate court procedures. In rural and remote areas, facilities that are authorised to provide the service are few and far between. Time is not on the side of a woman seeking care, yet the system is built around delays. By the time approvals are secured and referrals are completed, the window for safe care may already have passed. And so women do what women have always done when systems fail them. They desperately find other ways in the darkness and unsafe backyards.
Research conducted by the Guttmacher Institute estimates that around 66,000 induced abortions take place in Zimbabwe each year, the majority of them unsafe. Hospitals continue to receive women with complications, infections, and severe bleeding. They are part of the daily reality in wards already stretched thin.
Women do not stop seeking abortions because the process is difficult. They move outside the system, into backyards, into informal networks, into silence. The law, as it stands, does not prevent abortion. It decides whether it happens safely or dangerously.
Safety for the rich, danger for the poor
This system also results in unequal outcomes across regions and socioeconomic groups, with rural women and those lacking resources facing higher risks. Addressing these disparities is essential for equitable access to reproductive health and moral accountability. This is not a uniform application of the law. It is a two-tier system in which safety is determined by income and geography.
For communities grounded in faith and justice, this raises a fundamental question: can a system that disproportionately harms the most vulnerable be considered morally sound?
Global evidence has been consistent on this point. The World Health Organisation (WHO) has shown that restrictive or inaccessible systems do not reduce abortion rates. They increase unsafe practices, especially in contexts where health services are unevenly distributed and economic inequalities are pronounced.
So if the intention behind strict controls is to protect life, then we must ask whether that intention is being realised. This is where the conversation must shift.
Clause 11 and what we lost
To understand what we lost with Clause 11, we need to move away from the politics and look at how the system actually works.
Clause 11 was not about introducing abortion into Zimbabwean law. That provision already exists. What it sought to do was to address the barriers women face in accessing services that are already legal.
In practical terms, this means a system that is easier to navigate. Fewer layers of approval. More trained and authorised providers closer to where people live. Clearer pathways for minors and survivors of sexual violence, who often cannot afford delays or public exposure. These are basic adjustments that make a legal service function in real life. Removing Clause 11 did not resolve these challenges. It left them in place and unresolved.
The debates in Parliament and the positions taken in public reflect how this decision was shaped. Religious groups, traditional leaders, and political actors raised concerns grounded in morality, culture, and social values. These perspectives matter in any society. But when they dominate the conversation, the focus shifts away from how the health system is performing.
The result is a policy space where decisions are driven more by what is contested than by what is working. There are lessons from South Africa, which reformed its abortion law in 1996; it did not eliminate abortion. It made it safer. Deaths from unsafe procedures declined significantly because women could access regulated care within the health system.
The question must not only be whether abortion exists. The question is also whether the system is designed to prevent avoidable deaths or whether it continues to tolerate them.
Clarifying the misinformation and misplaced fears
Part of the difficulty in moving this conversation forward is that it is often shaped by fear, and in many cases, by information that is not entirely accurate.
There is a common claim that reform would open the door to abortion on request up to twenty weeks. This is not true. Access on request is limited to early pregnancy. Beyond that, the law remains clear: termination is only permitted under specific medical or legal conditions. This distinction is important, yet it is frequently lost in public debate.
Concerns about minors accessing services without parental involvement also need to be understood in context. Many pregnancies among young girls are the result of abuse, sometimes within the very homes where parental authority is expected to protect them. In such situations, requiring parental notification does not necessarily offer protection. It can expose a child to further harm or silence her altogether. A system that involves trained health professionals and social workers is better placed to assess risk and prioritise the child’s safety.
Mental health is another area where the conversation is often narrowed. It is sometimes dismissed as a loophole, as though it is less valid than physical health. Yet both Zimbabwean law and international medical standards recognise mental health as part of overall wellbeing. Ignoring it does not strengthen safeguards. It limits health professionals’ ability to respond appropriately to real conditions affecting women.
There are also concerns raised about sex-selective abortion. While these fears are often presented as protective, there is no clear evidence to suggest that this is a widespread issue in Zimbabwe. Where risks exist, they can be addressed through specific legal safeguards without restricting access to services already permitted by law.
What becomes clear is that many of these fears, while understandable, do not reflect how the system actually operates. And when policy is shaped by misunderstanding, it becomes harder to address the issues that are directly affecting women’s lives.
Reframing the debate and putting women at the centre
Abortion is already taking place, and Zimbabwe must centre women in its response.
There is a clear, successful example within the country of what happens when policy is aligned with evidence. Over the past two decades, Zimbabwe’s HIV response has delivered measurable results. Treatment coverage has expanded, infection rates have declined, and community-based systems have been strengthened. According to UNAIDS, Zimbabwe now has one of the highest levels of antiretroviral therapy coverage in the region.
This progress came from treating HIV as a public health issue that required coordinated, system-wide intervention. Services were decentralised, and community health workers were included, whilst stigma was addressed directly. The same health system is responsible for reproductive health. The difference is not capacity. It is how the issue is framed and prioritised.
Global evidence points in the same direction. Countries that have expanded access to safe, regulated abortion services have seen declines in deaths linked to unsafe procedures. WHO’s 2022 Abortion Care Guidelines, adopted by Zimbabwe, set out what an effective system looks like: fewer unnecessary administrative barriers, a broader range of trained providers, and integration of services into primary healthcare.
Zimbabwe has begun to engage with some of these principles through its Comprehensive Abortion Care guidelines. But without corresponding legal and administrative reform, progress remains limited. The issue is not whether solutions exist. It is whether they will be applied consistently, and whether women will be placed at the centre of those decisions.
A challenge to faith, policy, and practice
For many churches and faith-based communities, this debate is approached through the lens of morality and the sanctity of life. These are deeply held values, and they matter. But they cannot be applied in abstraction. They must be grounded in the realities women face every day.
Denying access to safe abortion does not mean abortion does not happen. It means it happens in unsafe conditions. Women continue to make these decisions, often under pressure, often quietly, and often without support. When things go wrong, the consequences are not carried by the individual alone. They are felt by families, by children, and by communities.
If faith calls for compassion, care, and the protection of life, then that responsibility must extend to the women who are already here, already living, and already at risk. It is not enough to speak about life in principle while avoidable harm and deaths continue in practice.
The current system does not preserve life. Reform, in this context, is not about abandoning values. It is about ensuring that those values are reflected in outcomes that reduce harm, protect dignity, and respond honestly to the lived realities of women and girls.
Women’s Month must mean something in practice.
Zimbabwe has made real progress in maternal health, HIV treatment, and gender policy. The Ministry of Health and Child Care, together with civil society organisations, has shown what is possible when policy is backed by evidence and delivered properly. The work is not finished while women are still forced to navigate unsafe pathways.
For the government, honesty is required, and decisions must not be shaped by caution and pressure but by what the evidence shows about women’s health and survival.
For faith leaders, does the defence of life include confronting preventable deaths of women and girls happening within the current system? We call for compassion and understanding.
For reproductive justice advocates, like Women Action Group, Safe Abortion Coalition led by the SRHR Africa Trust, among others, access to safe abortion requires urgency: holding the line is no longer enough. The system, as it stands, is reproducing harm. The work must continue until every woman and girl can access safe, timely, and equitable care within the law; the system cannot be said to protect life.
