By Tendai Makaripe
The bell rings at 12:30 p.m. and a small river of children spills through the gate of Warren Park 1 Primary School in Harare.
Backpacks bounce, lunch tins clatter, and the curb becomes a thin, uncertain border between childhood and traffic.
A commuter omnibus noses past a broken “School” sign.
A Grade 1 boy steps forward, hesitates, and a horn blasts.
The moment passes. The risk remains.
This is not only a road safety problem.
It is an early childhood development issue with consequences for learning, mental health, and school attendance.
When routes to class are dangerous, five- and six-year-olds arrive anxious or late, or do not arrive at all.
Parents adjust work hours to escort them.
Teachers start phonics and counting with a half-empty class.
The cost in attention, time, and confidence adds up.
A safe school zone is a designated area around a school where speed is cut to child-safe levels, crossings are clearly marked and enforced, and the street is designed for small bodies and short legs.
It is not complicated: a legal 30 km/h limit, raised crossings, rumble strips, clear signage, working lights, and adults—officers or trained marshals—who make motorists obey the rules.
Where this is done well, ECD learners can move like children again: in small, confident groups, eyes on the teacher and not on the traffic.
Zimbabwe does not do this well enough yet.
“The infrastructure around schools often does not support the safety of children,” said Mcleo Mapfumo, projects manager at Safe School Zone Zimbabwe.
“In too many places, there are no visible markings, no proper signage, and traffic lights that simply don’t work.”
In Glen View 8, Mapfumo’s team used the International Road Assessment Programme method to grade the roads children use. “Our initial star rating was zero—extreme danger. After we installed rumble strips, humps, a raised crossing and bollards, we reached three stars,” he said.
The risks are not abstract.
Six-year-old Mbalenhle Sibanda, a Grade 1 pupil at McKeurtan Primary School in Bulawayo, was hit by a speeding driver a few meters from the school gate on her way home.
She died on the spot.
In Dete, a nine-year-old learner from Ndangababi Primary School was run over by a police officer who attempted to flee the scene last year.
Children are uniquely vulnerable in traffic.
“A five- to seven-year-old has a narrower field of view, slower processing speed, and stands below most drivers’ sightlines, especially near parked cars,” said Ruvimbo Machingaidze, traffic safety specialist.
“At 30 km/hr, a driver has room to stop; at 60 km/hr a child’s mistake becomes a fatality.”
The educational cost is quieter but real.
“If a child’s route feels dangerous, you see late arrivals, crying at the gate, and trouble settling for the first lesson,” said Tariro Muchingami, an ECD teacher in Kariba.
“In ECD A and B, those first minutes matter for phonics, letter formation, and number sense. When we start late, the gap shows up by mid-term.”
The data trail demands precision.
According to the 2023 World Health Organisation Global status report on road safety, road traffic injuries are the leading cause of death among people aged 5–29, with low- and middle-income countries carrying the burden.
According to the Traffic Safety Council of Zimbabwe, the country recorded 52,288 crashes, 2,015 deaths and 10,074 injuries in 2024.
The figures do not break out how many of the dead were children but children are affected in many of these crashes.
Responsibility is spread—and sometimes diluted—across agencies.
Road Traffic Act [Chapter 13:11] and relevant statutory instruments set speed limits and signage standards; local authorities paint crossings, install and maintain traffic calming; the Zimbabwe Republic Police Traffic Section enforces; ZINARA finances road works; and the Ministry of Primary and Secondary Education is tasked with ensuring safe access to learning under the Education Act.
The Constitution’s Section 81 places a duty on the state to act in the best interests of the child.
“Mandates exist; what’s missing is a coordinated standard for all schools and a budget line that actually flows,” said engineer Takudzwa Mariseni.
It can be done.
In Borrowdale Primary and Hallingbury Primary, parent-led campaigns helped deliver raised crossings and speed calming near the gates.
“The area close to the school is now safer for our children who can now cross without challenges,” said parent Memory Tirivangani.
Regional neighbours have gone further at scale.
Lusaka, Zambia, working with Amend and the Zambia Road Safety Trust, redesigned approaches to several schools with raised zebra crossings, humps, and pavement upgrades.
Zambia then codified a 30 km/h national urban limit for high-pedestrian zones, especially around schools.
In Tshwane, South Africa, the Walking Safely to School (WATCH) pilot paired infrastructure with community marshals and enforcement.
“Our ECD walking bus model—groups of children escorted by trained volunteers—cut unsupervised road exposure and improved on-time arrival,” WATCH said in a statement.
Parents in Zimbabwe want the same.
“Every day I worry about my child walking to school,” said Patience Ncube, a Warren Park parent.
“We have raised these issues at meetings, but without support from authorities, the school can’t fix the road.”
Child-rights advocates say the duty of care is legal, not optional. “Children have a right to education in a safe environment,” said child rights lawyer Zororo Nkomo, .
“If the state maintains roads and regulates traffic, it must design for the height, speed, and attention span of a six-year-old.”
What would a realistic plan look like?
Experts point to a triangle of paint, policy, and policing—sequenced and funded.
First, set and enforce the standard.
The Ministry of Transport and Infrastructural Development should gazette a 30 km/h school-zone limit with a standard package: raised zebra crossing at each gate, advance rumble strips, clear “School/Children Crossing” signs at proper distances, working traffic lights where warranted, and protective bollards. Second, finance the hardware.
Experts argue that ZINARA and councils can ring-fence a small share of existing revenues for school-zone kits, tendered in batches.
“A city can prioritise the worst 50 gates in one budget cycle using a simple risk score: child volume, crash history, approach speed, and visibility,” said Mariseni.
Additionally, analysts contend that ZRP Traffic and municipal police can rotate officers or trained volunteers at drop-off and pick-up for the first 90 days after installation, paired with mobile speed cameras and on-the-spot fines.
Mapfumo notes that: “Schools, School Development Associations and residents can run walking buses—two trained adults front and back, high-visibility vests, and set routes—and recruit parent marshals.”
Councils should clear vendors and illegal parking from approaches and repaint every term.
The tracking of results is also key.
Each upgraded gate gets a small, public dashboard: approach speed before/after, near-miss count from teacher/parent logs, and attendance punctuality in ECD A/B.
Officials often argue that money is tight.
That is true. It is also true that a few painted triangles, a raised crossing, and a working light cost far less than a funeral—and that a six-year-old’s brain is building the foundations of literacy and numeracy right now.
Late arrivals and frightened goodbyes at the gate are not line items in a budget, but they are measurable losses in attention and time.
At 12:55 p.m., the kombi has gone.
The same Grade 1 boy takes a breath and steps onto a faded zebra crossing.
Drivers slow, some reluctantly.
The child trots across and grabs his sister’s arm.
They laugh and run toward home.
This is what a proper school zone should guarantee, not leave to chance.
For Zimbabwe’s youngest learners, the first lesson of the day should not be survival.
