For more than 12 years, Simiso Ndlovu, has fought an unrelenting battle against everything that pushes children out of school: distance, poverty, teenage pregnancy, wildlife, and illegal mining.
His greatest classroom has never been inside the walls of Tshitulipasi Secondary School in ward 1, Beitbridge East, in Matabeleland South province.
Instead, it has been found in the sacrifices he has made to keep children learning in one of Zimbabwe’s most remote communities.
Long before a girls’ hostel stood at the school, Ndlovu faced a painful reality almost every school term.
Learners from distant villages would either struggle to reach school every day or abandon their education altogether because the journey was simply too long.
The school draws pupils from feeder primary schools, including Tshikwarakwara, Tshipise, and Malape, where some children travel vast distances to attend lessons.
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“We have feeder schools which are very far, like Tshikwarakwara, Tshipise, and Malape,” Ndlovu said.
“The children cannot afford to be travelling every day. We then encourage them to stay here.
“If they wish, they can go home during weekends, while some prefer to stay until month-end or during mid-term.”
But distance was only one of many obstacles confronting learners.
Situated close to Zimbabwe’s border with South Africa, Tshitulipasi has witnessed how poverty and social vulnerabilities can derail the futures of young people, particularly girls.
Ndlovu says many girls have had their education interrupted by teenage pregnancies and other hardships before completing secondary school.
“We target mostly the girl child,” he said.
“Here in Tshitulipasi, we are just next to South Africa. Some of them come back pregnant, some come back sick, and face many other challenges. Some even give birth to children who do not even know who their fathers are.”
It was those realities that convinced him years ago that vulnerable girls needed more than classrooms; they needed somewhere safe to live.
With no hostel available and no funding to build one, Ndlovu took an extraordinary step: he surrendered his own house so the girls could stay there while continuing with their education.
It was never intended to be a permanent solution, but what began as a temporary arrangement stretched into years.
As more learners sought accommodation, another challenge emerged.
The boys also wanted to stay at the school instead of making the long journey home each day. With no proper hostel for them either, Ndlovu once again had to improvise and stayed with them in a “shelter” near the school, where he also supervised them.
“Before, I left my house so the girls could stay there,” he recalled.
“Then the boys also wanted to stay. We had no proper accommodation for them, so I had to stay with them in the ‘shelter’—and boys are boys, they needed supervision.”
When construction of the girls’ hostel finally began, the girls temporarily occupied the unfinished structure while work continued.
The boys then moved into the accommodation previously used by the girls.
For Ndlovu, every decision was driven by one objective: ensuring that children remained in school.
Building the hostel, however, proved to be another uphill battle.
Construction has taken two years and, even now, only electricity and a few finishing touches remain before the facility is fully complete. Funding shortages repeatedly threatened to halt the project.
“We had challenges when it came to funds,” Ndlovu said.
“World Vision intervened and gave us building materials. We then had to look for local materials like river sand, pit sand, and water. We paid the builders ourselves. They also gave us paint and tiles, while we looked for someone to do the painting.”
The nearly completed 40-metre hostel can accommodate 64 girls; currently, 51 learners live there. Yet the journey to reach this point began long before construction started.
“This thing has been going on since 2014,” Ndlovu said. “We started with only about 10 girls. At that time, Lutheran Development Service was assisting us. When they left, things became very difficult.”
Without external support, teachers also made sacrifices.
“I spoke to some of the teachers here and they understood that we had to leave one house for the children and squeeze ourselves into the remaining accommodation.”
The hostel has not only provided shelter; it has also helped restore dignity, safety, and time for learning.
Initially, learners prepared their own meals before school, often arriving late for lessons after cooking breakfast. The school later introduced a feeding programme.
“We now tell them what to buy,” Ndlovu explained. “They have tea and rice for breakfast, have the same meal in the afternoon, then chunks or beans and isitshwala in the evening.”
Keeping the programme running is another daily struggle. “Sometimes we run out of food. When that happens, I ask World Vision and Camfed for assistance. They have mercy on us and help,” he said.
Despite the progress made for girls, Ndlovu says another challenge remains unresolved.
“The biggest challenge now is the boys’ hostel. The way they are packed… eish,” he said. Yet turning learners away is not an option. “If you deny that boy accommodation, he may not come to school.”
Poverty remains another relentless enemy. Ndlovu recalls one conversation that continues to trouble him: a learner recently told him that her twin sister had failed to return to school because their parents could only afford fees for one child.
“The twin sister wanted to come to school. But because there was not enough money at home, the parents decided to sacrifice for the child who had passed. There are many children facing such challenges,” he said.
Outside the school fence, other dangers continue to compete for children’s futures.
“I also used to have a challenge where school dropouts would come back and influence learners to leave school,” Ndlovu said. “They would tell them how much they were missing outside and encourage them to go into illegal mining and other activities.”
These challenges are reflected in academic performance. Tshitulipasi’s Ordinary Level pass rate fluctuates around 25%.
“The pass rate is sporadic. It depends on the learners we receive from primary schools. But there is hope,” Ndlovu said.
That hope is shared by learners whose lives have already begun to change.
Form Four learner Khuliso Ndou remembers spending hours walking to and from school every day before moving into the hostel.
“By the time I got home, I would be completely exhausted. Instead of studying, all I wanted to do was rest,” she said.
“The long journey also meant waking before dawn to repeat the same routine.
“I arrived at school already tired, making it difficult to concentrate.”
Today, she says, access to electricity at the school has transformed the way she studies.
“I can now study comfortably in the evenings, complete my homework, and prepare for examinations. I come to class more prepared and able to focus.”
For Irene Nyandoro, the hostel has replaced fear with hope.
Before moving in, she faced long walks through areas where learners sometimes encountered elephants.
Girls also faced the constant risk of harassment and abuse while travelling to and from school.
“I now have a safe place where I can study without distractions, complete my homework, and prepare properly for examinations,” she said. “I am happy because this opportunity has given me a better chance to succeed”.
Their stories reflect the broader reality confronting many rural schools across Matabeleland South. Although the province now leads Zimbabwe in rural electrification, with about 90 per cent of schools and clinics connected to electricity, education leaders say infrastructure gaps continue to undermine learning.
Speaking during the commissioning of the Tshitulipasi Community Mini-Grid Solar Project recently, Matabeleland South Provincial Affairs and Devolution minister, Albert Nguluvhe, warned that many rural schools still lack science laboratories, making it difficult for learners to excel in science subjects and compete for engineering, medical, and other technical careers.
The government has since begun rolling out 40 science laboratories across the province under the Independence Legacy Programme in an effort to narrow that gap.
For Ndlovu, however, education has never been measured only by buildings, electricity, or examination statistics.
It is measured by every learner who chooses to stay in school despite the odds.
The girls now have a hostel, the classrooms have electricity, but the boys still need proper accommodation. Many families still struggle to pay school fees.
Some children still walk impossible distances to learn.
Others remain vulnerable to the pull of illegal mining before they complete their education. For more than a decade, Ndlovu has refused to surrender to those realities.
His greatest achievement may not be the hostel that now stands at Tshitulipasi Secondary School, but the countless children whose education continues because one headmaster refused to let circumstance decide their future.