Dignity at the doorsteps: A new era for disability support in Matabeleland South

A new symbol of recognition has risen in Mkhaya Village, Mangwe District; Matabeleland South Province: the arrival of dedicated team led by UNICEF. This team represents a long-overdue promise of care. For 69-year-old Joyce Mpofu, a blind grandmother who has lived without her sight for 30 years, this recognition has brought a new kind of warmth, proving that some things can be felt even when they cannot be seen.

“I haven’t seen the sun in 30 years, but I feel it again—in how people are starting to see me,” Joyce says, seated beside her daughter at her home. For Joyce, the moment was just as profound.

“I may be blind, but I know what care feels like. Today, I feel seen,” she says.

Recently, Joyce slipped and injured her hip, leaving her unable to walk. She now relies on her daughter and 50-year-old daughter-in-law, Cynthia Ndlovu, to lift and move her.

“There are days I go out looking for food and have to leave Gogo at home alone. It is a difficult life,” At times, we go to sleep with just water in our stomachs. Cynthia explains.

Their quiet struggle has often gone unnoticed by broader social safety nets. Although Mangwe Rural District has long benefited from government and NGO programmes, families like Joyce’s have been left behind—hindered by distance, lack of information, and the weight of disability. That is beginning to change.

In June, Ministry of Public Service labour and Social with support from UNICEF launched a pilot programme to harmonise protocols and tools for Disability Identification, Screening, Assessment and Determination. Thanks to the funding from SIDA through the Child Protection Fund (CPF)  and the UNICEF Child Protection Global Thematic Pool.  Field-tested in Mangwe District, the initiative aims to reduce barriers to accessing disability-inclusive services. In the past, people like Joyce would have had to travel to Plumtree, navigating multiple departments for assessments and referrals. Today, the system comes to them.

This bold initiative uses a whole-of-government approach, led by the Ministry of Public Service, Labour and Social Welfare, and coordinated with the Ministry of Health and Child Care, the Ministry of Primary and Secondary Education, the National Social Security Authority (NSSA), Organisations of Persons with Disabilities, and a range of Civil Society Organisations. It is more than a pilot—it is a promise to bring dignity to the doorstep.

Over three days in Mangwe, multidisciplinary teams of rehabilitation technicians, psychologists, public health nurses, educators, and social welfare officers assessed hundreds of adults and children. They looked not only at impairments but at people—what they could do, what they needed, and how systems could help.

“This process means someone else is helping carry our load. They didn’t just hand us forms like what others do. They sat with us. They asked what Gogo needs to move safely. They treated her like a person, not a problem,” Cynthia says with quiet relief.

Joyce’s basic needs—food, clothing, and a walker—were formally documented. Referrals followed, opening doors that had long felt sealed.

Local community leaders have also welcomed the new approach. Mrs Madel Ngwenya (62), a long-serving Community Childcare Worker in Mangwe, described it as a cultural shift in how rural disability is addressed.

“We used to feel helpless when we saw people like Gogo Joyce struggling. Now we finally have a way to respond—not in whispers, but with real support. This programme is restoring our humanity,” she says.

Separate the story

Elsewhere, a 14-year-old girl named Sihle underwent a compassionate assessment after being labelled “too slow” by her school. She has Down syndrome. Her mother, Margaret, stood close by, blinking back tears as a learning support officer explained how her daughter could still thrive. “This is the first time someone told me my child can still learn,” she whispered.