By Edward Makuzva
In many patriarchal societies around the world such as in developing countries, including Zimbabwe, a woman’s worth is often measured by her ability to bear children.
For those grappling with infertility, this narrow definition of womanhood becomes a silent, aching burden one carried behind closed doors, under whispered judgments, and within cultural expectations that rarely make room for alternative narratives.
This is the unseen struggle of countless women who are forced to navigate a complex maze of stigma, shame, and identity crisis. Amidst the pain, a quiet revolution is unfolding- led by resilient voices, challenging outdated norms and redefining what it truly means to be a woman.
When that expectation goes unmet, the consequences can be devastating. For women like Moira Mpofu, a 30-year-old from Mhondoro Communal Resettlement Area, the pain of infertility is compounded by emotional neglect, scorn from in-laws, and whispered ridicule from the community.
In some cases, the strain becomes too much in a marriage institution as in Moira’s case. Mounting pressure from the husband’s extended family due to its deeply entrenched traditional beliefs that are restrictive for the women, her husband, later succumbed to the egocentric demands to move away from her once darling wife as she was now the ‘scapegoat’ for the barren marriage.
His departure was not just a personal heartbreak, being apparently loud and clear in public corridors in the community.
That came as a public confirmation, in the eyes of the community, that Moira had failed in her fundamental role as a wife; a ghostly self of that traditionally molded woman who had committed to fit well into the model African woman who is submissive to the ‘Lordly” husband.
But now because for years no child had materialized from the marital union- and that was her problem that had no any other remedy except to be rejected, physically and morally.
Left behind was not only a woman mourning the loss of a partner but one forced to navigate a hostile world that saw her infertility as a shameful mark of inadequacy.
Her story lays bare the painful realities that countless women endure in societies where a woman’s worth is often measured by her ability to conceive failure of which results in ridicule and ill labelling.
Moira narrates her journey, after lobola rituals were paid to her family as per traditional expectations, with everyone, particularly her new in-laws expecting a baby within a year in return.
When it didn’t happen, the loud whispers started.
In an indication of a vicious cycle of women being active actors in the derogation of other women due to the unwarranted conviction of being custodians of culture , her mother-in-law was at the forefront of chastising the daughter in law alleging that the bride price to her family was for a ‘proper woman’ able to bearing children.
Despite its relatively high prevalence and the cultural values associated with childbearing, infertility care remains a low priority area for local health care providers and community leaders, not only on at national level but also on an international level.
“At first, my husband was supportive. We visited clinics, tried traditional herbs, and prayed. But as the months dragged into years, the pressure mounted.” Moira lamented.
Family gatherings became a torturing experience as poor Moira was often at the bitter receiving end of excessive jibe from sisters of her husband, the marital aunties traditionally.
These aunties since history have a specific and significant role in the intactness of the families and marriages of their brothers often playing a social counsellor role.
The aunties would ask her, in loud, joking tones, whether she was “hiding the baby at home.”
As a result the ‘till death do us part vow’ became shaky as the husband’s love became so distant and he was now deserting the bedroom for other spare bedrooms at night; while clearly contemplating an alternative wife able to bring forth children from the marriage.
“My husband started talking about taking another wife, and some relatives even hinted at asking for their lobola back.
The thought struck a painful chord. “It wasn’t only about not being able to have children,” Mpofu says.
“It was that my entire value as a wife everything they expected me to be was bound to that one thing. When that was no longer possible, I felt like I was disposable,” she explains.
Having been married for five years without bearing children, Moira’s once-celebrated union has devolved into a daily struggle for acceptance and self-worth.
What began as a hopeful chapter in her life has now become a painful narrative of rejection. She describes how her in-laws, once warm and welcoming, now treat her with disdain, referring to her with derogatory names and accusing her of failing the family.
“In my own marriage, I feel like a stranger,” she confided during an interview. “My in-laws call me names, they say I am useless because I cannot bear children. My husband no longer defends me”, Mpofu added.
Her story is not uncommon. In many Zimbabwean communities, especially where cultural traditions like lobola remain strong, infertility is not just a medical issue—it becomes a social crisis, often borne silently by women.
Even though modern medicine has shown that infertility can equally be due to male factors, the burden and blame still largely fall on the woman.
The harsh reality of infertility in Zimbabwe is a story of cultural norms, societal expectations, and the objectification of women. In many parts of the country, a woman’s worth is often measured by her ability to bear children.
This antiquated notion has led to a situation where women like Moira are subjected to ridicule, ostracism, and emotional abuse. The labels “ngomwa” or “inyumba,” used to describe a woman who cannot conceive, are not only derogatory but also dehumanizing.
Moira’s experience is a testament to the suffering that many women endure in silence. Her in-laws, once warm and welcoming, now treat her with disdain, referring to her as “useless” because she cannot bear children.
Her husband, who once vowed to love and cherish her, no longer defends her against the cruel taunts of his family. The emotional neglect has compounded her suffering, leaving her feeling like a stranger in her own marriage.
Infertility remains heavily misunderstood, especially in rural communities where deep-rooted cultural beliefs frame childbearing as the ultimate fulfillment of womanhood. Despite medical research showing that male infertility contributes to nearly half of all cases globally, women continue to bear the brunt of the blame.
For countless individuals and couples, the inability to conceive becomes more than a medical challenge; it becomes a quiet burden marked by shame, isolation, and unspoken grief.
“Breaking the Infertility Stigma: A Powerful Journey Toward Acceptance, Advocacy, and Empowerment in the Face of Silence,” explores the courageous stories of those who refuse to be silenced, choosing instead to transform their pain into purpose.
This journey highlights not only the emotional and psychological impact of infertility but also the growing movement toward open dialogue, awareness, and support. Through resilience and advocacy, these voices are reshaping perceptions and building a community where acceptance and empowerment replace secrecy and shame.
In many cultures, the expectation to have children is a given, and those who are unable to conceive are often marginalized, left to grapple not only with medical challenges but also with societal judgment. However, in recent years, a growing movement has emerged to break this silence and shatter the stigma that surrounds infertility.
A Silent Struggle: The Emotional Toll of Infertility
Infertility remains misunderstood, especially in rural communities where childbearing is seen as the ultimate proof of womanhood.
For many, the inability to conceive becomes more than a medical challenge—it becomes a burden marked by shame, isolation, and unspoken grief.
Emma Moyo, 39, of Mabvuku, struggled with infertility for over a decade. “The hardest part wasn’t the treatments it was the silence,” she says. “In the community, people assume infertility is always the woman’s issue. And when it’s not, there’s still ridicule and disrespect.”
Moyo avoided social events, fearing awkward questions and unsolicited advice. “Some said I wasn’t praying hard enough. Others recommended herbs or even leaving my husband. It was exhausting”, Moyo explained.
She believes breaking the silence is key. “Infertility is a medical condition, not a moral failing. We need compassion, education, and open conversations. Counseling should be available and accessible. Most importantly, we must break the silence”, She added.
Moyo highlighted that the stigma surrounding infertility is multifaceted. In some cultures, the inability to have children is seen as a failure of womanhood, while others place disproportionate pressure on men to provide heirs. These social expectations can lead to an immense emotional burden, often overshadowing the medical aspects of infertility.
“Counseling services should be made accessible to help couples and individuals cope emotionally. Most importantly, we must break the silence — infertility should not be a hidden shame but a challenge that we face with dignity, support, and hope”, said Moyo.
According to a 2024 study published in the African Journal of Reproductive Health, over 60% of infertile women in Zimbabwe have faced psychological or emotional abuse as a direct consequence of their condition. The abuse can take many forms, including verbal insults, exclusion from decision-making in the family, or even threats of divorce or polygamy.
Changing the Narrative: Moving From Shame to Support
The tide is gradually turning as more people share their infertility journeys, breaking the silence and challenging stigma. Social media, support groups, and advocacy organizations are key drivers of this shift, offering safe spaces for open dialogue and mutual support.
“As a man struggling with infertility, the journey has been deeply painful and isolating. In my family, I faced silent judgment and unspoken disappointment. When a man can’t father children, it feels like his worth is stripped away.
Some family members suggest solutions without understanding the emotional burden I carry, while others distance themselves, making the loneliness heavier”, says James Sithole, who also struggled with infertility.
“Talking about it openly gave me a sense of control over the situation”,
“When I started sharing my story, I realized how many others were going through the same thing. It was liberating to realize I wasn’t alone, and that my value wasn’t defined by my ability to father a child”, Sithole explained.
The Role of Healthcare Providers:
Compassionate Care and Counseling
According to Dr Mugove Madziyire, an obstetrician and gynecologist at the University of Zimbabwe and Programme Coordinator in the Faculty of Medicine and Health Sciences, emphasizes that infertility is often treatable but stigma discourages early intervention.
“In women, common causes include blocked fallopian tubes and ovulation failure. In men, low sperm count and poor motility are leading factors,” says Dr. Madziyire. “But few seek help due to cultural shame.
Healthcare professionals, including Dr. Madziyire, are advocating for change and emphasizing that Assisted Reproductive Technologies (ART) such as Intra-uterine Insemination (IUI) and In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) offer viable solutions for infertility—though these options often remain out of reach due to their high costs.
“Assisted Reproduction Technologies (ART), such as Intra-uterine Insemination (IUI) and In Vitro Fertilization (IVF), are available options for individuals and couples struggling with infertility as they improve outcomes for women who have failed to conceive naturally.
“However, he noted that these procedures are often financially out of reach for many Zimbabweans, as they can be extremely costly.
“The high expenses involved ranging from consultation fees to medication, laboratory procedures, and follow-up care—limit access predominantly to those with substantial financial means or medical aid coverage. This financial barrier contributes to prolonged emotional distress and diminished hope for many facing fertility challenges, especially in lower-income and rural communities”, Dr Madziyire explained.
The Cost of In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) : Navigating Private and Public Options in Zimbabwe
In Zimbabwe, the price of in vitro fertilization (IVF) at private clinics can be steep, with a single cycle typically ranging from USD 3,500 to USD 5,000. This covers consultations, medications, laboratory fees, and hospital charges. However, more intricate procedures, such as those involving donor eggs, sperm, or surrogacy, can drive the cost up to USD 7,500 or more.
Meanwhile, public health facilities provide IVF services at a significantly lower cost, but access is often hindered by long waiting times and limited resources. Patients in the public system may also face strict eligibility requirements, adding an extra layer of difficulty for those seeking treatment.
As private options remain out of reach for many, the contrast highlights the struggle for affordable fertility care in a system where cost and accessibility often collide.
Empowering the Next Generation: Raising Awareness and Changing Attitudes
For younger generations, the stigma surrounding infertility is already starting to dissipate. As conversations around mental health and reproductive health become more open, young people are more empowered to seek help without fear of judgment.
Social media influencers, celebrities, and public figures who have shared their own infertility struggles are helping to normalize the conversation, making it easier for others to come forward and seek support.
Across Zimbabwe, grassroots campaigns are working tirelessly to replace stigma with solidarity. Local organizations such as the Infertility Awareness Association of Zimbabwe (IAAZ) are leading community dialogues, support group sessions, and educational workshops to challenge harmful myths and foster empathy.
These efforts are complemented by global initiatives like the Merck Foundation’s More Than a Mother campaign, which collaborates with local health ministries and media to amplify the voices of women affected by infertility.
Through storytelling, advocacy, and free fertility services, these campaigns are not only raising awareness but also providing tangible resources—empowering women and couples to reclaim their dignity and break the silence around infertility.
Zimbabwe’s First Lady, Dr. Auxillia Mnangagwa who is also the country’s health ambassador, has emerged as a vocal advocate for reproductive health, partnering with NGOs and health agencies to tackle infertility stigma.
Through her Angel of Hope Foundation, she has led grassroots campaigns in rural areas, promoting awareness and encouraging open dialogue.
Her outreach includes community visits, educational workshops, and collaboration with traditional leaders—efforts that are slowly shifting perceptions and bringing reproductive health into the national spotlight.
By fostering an environment of empathy, understanding, and open dialogue, society is moving closer to breaking down the harmful stigma surrounding infertility. The more we share, support, and educate, the more we can create a world where infertility is viewed as just one of many challenges people face — one that can be managed with compassion and care.