They Escaped Their Husbands. Then They Took On Poachers.

This story was originally published by Minority Africa.

Since childhood,  40-year-old Namatai Torerai* has always dreamt of becoming a police officer. Growing up in Raffingora, 45 km northeast of Chinhoyi, she was inspired by the confidence of women officers and admired their bravery. However, her aspirations were shattered when she married and divorced twice—the second marriage marked by sexual and physical violence.

“My ex-husband was unemployed, and I was working, so he would collect all my earnings to spend with his girlfriends, and if I asked, we would end up fighting,” Torerai recounted. She endured this abuse for two years, as fellow women encouraged her to be strong, since it was considered part of marriage.

This trend is prevalent in many African societies, where gender norms often normalise gender-based violence (GBV) as a way to control or discipline a woman, particularly by their intimate partners.

Statistics reveal that in Zimbabwe, approximately 39.4% of women have been subjected to physical violence, and an estimated 11.6% have faced sexual violence. 

Fear of societal stigma discourages many women from leaving abusive marriages, as they are labelled ‘return soldiers,’ especially those who have been married more than once. But in 2014, Torerai eventually gathered the courage to walk out of the second marriage through gupuro (a token of divorce) before a traditional leader. Initially, she requested an emergency transfer at work to another town to distance herself from her husband, but he continued to follow and harass her.

“Since he couldn’t let me go, I gave him a token of divorce before Chief Ngezi, and he agreed, but he took away all the property and even my clothes, leaving me with my daughter,” Torerai said. “I didn’t let that affect me because I continued to work and regained some of the property, but he resurfaced wanting to take away my property again. That is when my brothers advised me to seek a peace order.”

Women’s rights advocate Nodeshah Maingehama echoed Torerai’s experience, highlighting the challenges associated with women’s empowerment, especially in rural areas. “The moment a woman tries to show they are empowered or air out their views, that’s the moment men start to abuse them because they don’t want to feel challenged, as society has often associated them with power.” 

Determined to transform her life, Torerei joined Akashinga as a ranger in 2019, after learning from a ward councillor that the organization was recruiting women.

Akashinga, an all-women anti-poaching organisation, has been operating in Zimbabwe’s Lower Zambezi Valley since 2017. The name, which translates to  “brave ones,” has trained over 300 women across Zimbabwe, Mozambique, and Botswana as rangers, community educators, biodiversity monitors, and more. Most of them are from marginalised communities surrounding the reserves where Akashinga works.

In the early days of training, Torerai was tempted to quit due to the intense physical demands, but the determination to change her fate kept her going.

“The program was founded in response to both the urgent need for more inclusive, community-based conservation and the untapped potential of marginalised women, many of whom are survivors of violence and adversity,” said Erin Mullikin, Akashinga’s Director of Brand and Marketing. “By centering women who are so often left out of decision-making spaces, we’ve created a model that restores ecosystems and restores agency.”

For Torerai, being a ranger was a dream come true—working in law enforcement and wearing a uniform, much like the police officers she had admired as a child. “I am glad I became more like them,” she said.

Abigail Matare, 35, another ranger from Chunga village in Binga—located over 400 km from Bulawayo, Zimbabwe’s second-largest city—had her early adulthood disrupted when poverty forced her into marriage at 19. Unfortunately, her husband of six  years abandoned her, forcing the mother of two to return to her parents 

Although she declined to share her experiences of GBV, as talking or thinking about it continued to affect her negatively, she described the marriage as a difficult one. “He abused me both physically and emotionally and eventually left me with my two children,” she said. “When I returned to my family, I had to venture into farming to support everyone at home.” 

As the second eldest child in a family of six, she faced pressure to care for everyone—her children, siblings, and parents.  Joining Akashinga four years ago marked a turning point in her life, as she learnt the value of self-reliance, which she achieved through her work as a ranger.

“I am now able to support my parents and cover my elder sister’s epilepsy medications and send my children and younger siblings to school without struggling financially. For the first time, my parents can drink tea whenever they like.”

Since the organization’s inception, Akashinga rangers have made more than 2,018 arrests for illegal wildlife poaching—including for ivory, bush meat, and hides. Torerai and Matare have not only gained law enforcement skills, but also practical experience in bushcraft, including self-protection when encountering dangerous animals, such as elephants in the forest.

“During patrols, we monitor our animals, checking for poachers in our conservancies,” Matare said. “We also do water operations to safeguard marine life on Lake Kariba, and personally I now know how to keep safe from dangerous animals.” 

However, she noted that some poachers were resistant to being arrested by women, and they had to assert their command and authority as wildlife guardians, de-escalating any conflict without inflicting physical harm.

Executive Director of Zimbabwe Women in Conservation and Agriculture (ZWICA), Rudo Chasi, hailed efforts to empower women in conservation, saying their presence helps reshape the perception that strength, intelligence, and leadership in conservation are gender-neutral qualities.

“Women in Zimbabwe are increasingly challenging entrenched gender norms in conservation by taking on roles that were historically considered unsuitable for them”, she told Minority Africa. “Many women rangers come from marginalized rural backgrounds, and their success stories create a feedback loop of empowerment.”

Most rural school-going girls share similar experiences with Matare, whose education ended at O-Level and who married young, due to extreme poverty and limited access to opportunities. But through Akashinga, they discovered an opportunity to take control of their lives and pursue careers in wildlife conservation. 

It is a choice that has had a ripple effect on their direct communities. Torerai, for example, is now helping other victims of GBV by sharing knowledge drawn from her experiences, one she is quick to reflect on.

“When I look back and think,  if I had stayed in my marriage, I don’t know if my child would have had an opportunity to go to school or if my parents would still be alive,” she said.