In recent weeks, a tragic series of drownings during “Manjuzu” rituals in Hwedza and Gweru has left families devastated and communities grappling with fear. The latest victims, a traditional healer and his client, were tragically pulled under by strong currents while reportedly seeking the blessings of these enigmatic “water spirits.” While many might dismiss these incidents as mere accidents, a deeper investigation reveals a disturbing trend: the escalating desperation driving Zimbabweans towards high-risk spiritual rituals in pursuit of financial “miracles.” The “Manjuzu” cult, which promises wealth and beauty through a mystical connection to the underworld, has witnessed a significant surge in popularity amidst the country’s persistent economic struggles.
The Zimbabwe Republic Police (ZRP) has issued a stern warning to the public, urging heightened caution when engaging in activities near water bodies, following these tragic events. On 24 February 2026, a traditional healer, Edwin Chingandu, aged 33, also known as Sekuru Samaita, and his client, Philemon Matawire, aged 46, drowned at Clydesdale Farm Dam in Gweru. They were reportedly conducting Manjuzu rituals when the incident occurred. Their bodies were recovered by the ZRP Sub Aqua Unit on 25 February 2026. This incident was highlighted by the ZRP alongside another tragic event that took place on 22 February 2026 at Manyasaland Dam, Coby Farm, Wedza, where Munyaradzi Tambaoga, 20, and Haggai Tambaoga, 23, drowned while fishing. Although the Wedza incident was not directly linked to Manjuzu rituals, the police statement underscored the critical importance of water safety, especially in light of the Gweru drownings.
These recent fatalities are not isolated incidents. In July 2025, the Nyaure River in Bindura became the site of another Manjuzu-related tragedy, where two women, Ellen Mulauzi, 49, and Ethel Nyabundu, 22, lost their lives during a ritual led by a self-styled prophet. Just two months later, in September 2025, Vernon Ndemanzvi, 31, drowned during similar rituals at Nyachowa Falls. These recurring tragedies paint a grim picture of the dangers inherent in these practices, often exacerbated by the unregulated nature of some traditional healing ceremonies.
The “Manjuzu” phenomenon is deeply rooted in Shona mythology, where Njuzu (singular) or Manjuzu (plural) are revered as powerful water or mermaid spirits. Adherents believe that connecting with these spirits can bestow immense wealth, enhance beauty, grant fame, and even facilitate healing. For women, there is a particular belief that these spirits can help in luring affluent partners. The allure of such promises has become particularly potent in a nation grappling with severe economic hardships, including currency instability, inflation, and high unemployment. The formal economy’s struggles have inadvertently fuelled a desperate search for alternative avenues to prosperity, making the “Manjuzu” cult an increasingly attractive, albeit perilous, option for many.
Our investigation reveals that the popularity of the “Manjuzu” cult has been significantly amplified through social media platforms. Young, ambitious Zimbabweans, yearning for a better life, are often targeted through platforms like TikTok, Facebook, and Instagram, where self-proclaimed “socialite” healers market the supposed benefits of these rituals. These online narratives often gloss over the inherent dangers, presenting a glamorous, albeit false, image of instant wealth and success. The psychological grip of the “Manjuzu” belief is strong, preying on the hopes and vulnerabilities of individuals seeking a way out of their economic predicaments.
Survivors and traditional experts shed light on the clandestine mechanics of these rituals, which are far from simple prayers by the river. Many ceremonies involve participants entering deep water, often under the influence of heavy sedation or “trance-inducing” herbs. These psychoactive plants, which can include Boophone disticha (Sore-eye flower/Incwadadi), Datura stramonium, and Cannabis sativa, are known to cause disorientation, impaired judgment, and physical incapacitation. When consumed before entering water, these substances dramatically increase the risk of drowning, turning a spiritual quest into a fatal gamble. The traditional experts we spoke to emphasised that genuine spiritual practices should never endanger lives, highlighting the deviation from authentic traditions by some practitioners.
The “ritual industry” surrounding Manjuzu practices has also given rise to predatory occultism. There are numerous accounts of “fake” healers who exploit the desperation of individuals, charging exorbitant fees—sometimes thousands of dollars—for “underwater journeys” that they know are physically impossible and inherently dangerous. These unscrupulous practitioners capitalise on the profound belief in spiritual intervention, offering false hope for substantial financial gain. The lack of stringent regulation within the traditional healing sector allows these “rogue” practitioners to operate with relative impunity, leading their followers into perilous situations.
Zimbabwe does have legislative frameworks in place, such as the Traditional Medical Practitioners Act, which mandates the registration of traditional healers with bodies like the Traditional Medical Practitioners Council (TMPC) or the Zimbabwe National Traditional Healers Association (ZINATHA). These regulations are intended to ensure ethical practice and protect the public. However, many self-styled prophets and healers conducting Manjuzu rituals often operate outside these established structures, making it difficult to monitor their activities and hold them accountable for negligence or malpractice. This regulatory vacuum contributes significantly to the dangers faced by those who seek their services.
The profound question remains: why are so many willing to risk their lives in the water for a promise of gold? This deep dive into the soul of a nation reveals a complex interplay of economic despair, deeply ingrained spiritual beliefs, and the manipulative tactics of opportunistic individuals. The “Manjuzu” craze is a stark reflection of a society searching for hope in the darkest of places, and the fatal price that some are tragically paying in that search. It is a poignant reminder of the urgent need for both economic stability and greater oversight within the traditional healing sector to protect vulnerable communities from exploitation and preventable loss of life.
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