My name is not important. My story is. It’s the story of thousands of girls across Zimbabwe. I was 16, I was in school, and I was pregnant. For generations, that meant the end of everything. The school gates would close. The whispers would start. My future, once a bright, open road, would narrow to a single, difficult path. The boy who was responsible would continue his classes, his life uninterrupted. Mine would be over.
This was the reality. This was the injustice. It was a system that punished girls for their biology and rewarded boys for their silence. It fueled a cycle of poverty, trapping young mothers in dependency and stealing their potential.
But in 2020, something changed. Something powerful. Fueled by years of advocacy from fierce women and our allies, the government passed the Education Amendment Act. And with the stroke of a pen, it became illegal for any school to expel a girl because she is pregnant.
Let that sink in. A girl’s education can no longer be sacrificed because she is expecting a child.
This law is more than just a rule; it is a lifeline. It is a declaration that a girl’s worth is not defined by her belly, but by her mind. It is a second chance. For me, and for countless girls like me, it means that while my belly was growing, my future could grow too. I could stay at my desk. I could write my exams. I could still dream of being a nurse, a teacher, an engineer.
This law is a preemptive strike against child marriage. When a girl is expelled, marriage often seems like the only option for survival. By keeping her in school, we keep that option from becoming a necessity. We empower her with knowledge and skills, giving her the tools to build her own life, support her child, and break the cycle of intergenerational poverty.
This is the love that fuels our work at IYWD—the love for every girl’s potential. But our outrage remains, because we know the fight is not over. A legal right to a school desk doesn’t automatically erase the stigma in the classroom. We hear from girls who are afraid to return to school, fearing the judgment of their peers and even their teachers. We know that schools need to do more than just keep the door open. They need to create a truly supportive space—with counselling, with peer support, with practical help like a quiet room to rest or breastfeed.
The fact that over 3,000 girls still dropped out of school due to pregnancy in 2024 tells us that our work is urgent. We must all become champions for these young mothers. We must engage our communities, our teachers, and our leaders to shift mindsets from shame to support.
At IYWD, we are committed to making this law a lived reality for every girl. We are working to ensure schools become safe havens, not places of judgment. We are advocating for comprehensive sexuality education so that girls have the power to prevent unintended pregnancies in the first place.
My story, and the story of every pregnant girl who walks back through those school gates, is a story of resilience. It’s a testament to the power of a law that chose to see a student, not just a statistic. It chose to see a future, not just a failure. It gave us our Right of Way back to our desks and back to our dreams.