By Lloyd Mangoh
The echoes of World Day for Assistive Technology, commemorated globally on 4 June 2025 under the theme “Unlock the Everyday”, have barely faded. Yet for Rachael Bvunzawabaya, a resilient 53-year-old woman living in the peri-urban settlement of Caledonia, just outside Harare, the everyday remains cruelly inaccessible.
Her story, shared in a candid interview with 263Chat, is more than a personal account—it is a sobering reflection of systemic neglect and a reminder that global declarations and national strategies must translate into tangible change for individuals.
For over three decades, Rachael has relied on a folding boot and caliper—a device she fondly refers to as her “old friend.”
It was purchased for her in 1992 by the Red Cross when she was just 19 and completing Form Four.
At the time, the support landscape for persons with disabilities was more functional.
“We used to just get three quotations and send them to the Department of Social Welfare, then we would either be directed to Jairos Jiri, Ruwa Rehabilitation Centre or Parirenyatwa Hospital,” she recalls. “The Social Welfare Department would make the payment.”
But that era of accessible assistance has long faded. Today, Rachael faces a grim reality: the very device that once enabled her independence is now broken beyond repair.
“You can imagine that in 2025 I am still using a caliper that I received in 1992, before I had grown and gained weight,” she says, her voice burdened by years of silent endurance.
The cost of a new caliper has been quoted at an eye-watering $4,200 USD. Even the custom-made orthopaedic shoe alone is priced at $280 USD—a painful contrast to the “$10 shoes that other women can buy”.
“It is very disheartening to hear that a shoe can cost the same as a small second-hand vehicle,” she adds.
With economic instability and the introduction of the Zimbabwe Gold (ZiG) currency compounding issues, the once-reliable public support has collapsed.
“These days the payments are not being processed, especially due to the ZiG and USD exchange rate complications,” she explains.
The consequences of inaction are severe. “My day-to-day activities are impacted adversely by this shoe issue,” Rachael says.
Her ability to participate in the informal economy, look after her household, and contribute to her community hinges entirely on her mobility.
“Without the shoe, I am grounded and unable to participate in various socio-economic spaces.”
But her pain has not gone to waste. Rachael’s journey through adversity has moulded her into a passionate advocate for disability inclusion.
Over the years, she has used her voice to raise awareness about the challenges faced by persons with disabilities, particularly in accessing assistive technology.
“I know I’m not the only one struggling,” she reflects. “Many others are silently enduring the same hardships, and someone has to speak up.”
Rachael’s situation underscores the disconnect between national aspirations and local realities. Zimbabwe is a signatory to the United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (CRPD), ratified in 2013.
Article 20 of the CRPD obliges state parties to ensure personal mobility through access to affordable assistive technologies. Yet, more than a decade later, Rachael’s lived experience tells a different story.
Hope flickers in the form of innovation. A new model of caliper, which integrates the necessary raise into standard footwear, could grant her the freedom to wear ordinary shoes—reclaiming a semblance of dignity and self-expression.
“It would be a game changer,” she says. “But the issue of affordability makes this all a pipe dream unless well-wishers can assist me to acquire it.”
Unfortunately, her current caliper cannot be retrofitted to accommodate the improved technology.
In the absence of institutional support, Rachael has resorted to a precarious workaround. “I engaged local welders to try and make a temporary solution,” she shares.
But the device is unstable and unsafe. “It has severely limited my participation in my poultry business and horticultural garden,” both vital income-generating activities.
Even household chores have become overwhelming. “At times I am forced to crawl like a baby, which is very humiliating for someone of my age,” she admits.
Before the makeshift fix, she was largely confined indoors, unable to move independently.
Amidst these personal struggles, a policy-level beacon emerged just weeks before World Day for Assistive Technology.
The Government of Zimbabwe launched the National Assistive Technology Strategy and Assistive Products Priority List—a major step toward improving the accessibility and affordability of assistive devices.
The strategy acknowledges many of the structural challenges that Rachael faces daily: poor funding, fragmented supply chains, and a lack of trained personnel.
The national strategy aligns with regional and continental frameworks, including the Protocol to the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities in Africa, adopted in 2018.
It also echoes the African Union’s Agenda 2063, which calls for inclusive development that leaves no one behind.
This vision is reinforced by President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s national mantra of “leaving no one and no place behind”—a powerful call that must now be matched by investment and implementation for vulnerable citizens like Rachael.
Globally, her story resonates with the World Health Organization’s Global Report on Assistive Technology (GReAT) released in 2022, which highlights that only one in ten people in low- and middle-income countries who need assistive technology actually receive it.
It also challenges the global community to uphold the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs)—especially Goal 3 on good health and well-being and Goal 10 on reducing inequalities—by ensuring equitable access to assistive products.
As the world reflects on what it means to Unlock the Everyday, Rachael Bvunzawabaya’s journey demands urgent attention.
Her fight for a new caliper is not just about mobility—it is about dignity, independence, and full participation in life. It is a reminder that rights on paper are not enough; they must be backed by resources, political will, and compassion.
Zimbabwe has the frameworks, the strategies, and the ambition. Now it must act—so that Rachael’s story does not remain a symbol of what is broken, but a beacon of what can be restored. Only then can we say, with honesty, that no one and no place is being left behind.
